Opinions

Opinions

 

Supreme Court

Sandra Day O'Connor served as a justice on the U.S. Supreme Court from 1981 to 2006. This page lists the opinions she wrote during her time on the court.

Post Retirement Opinions

After her retirement from the Supreme Court, Sandra Day O'Connor continued to hear cases in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit as a designated judge.

Arizona Appellate Court Opinions

Sandra Day O'Connor served as a judge on the Arizona Court of Appeals from 1980 to 1981. This page lists the opinions she wrote during her time on the state bench.

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Branch v. Smith

JUSTICE O’CONNOR, with whom JUSTICE THOMAS joins, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

I join Parts I and II of the Court’s opinion because I agree that the Mississippi Chancery Court’s redistricting plan lacks preclearance. I join Part II-C because it is consistent with our decisions holding that federal courts should not rule on a constitutional challenge to a nonprecleared voting change when the change is not yet capable of implementation. See, e. g., Connor v. Waller, 421 U. S. 656 (1975) (per curiam); see also ante, p. 282 (KENNEDY, J., concurring). I cannot join Part III or Part IV; however, because I disagree with the Court that 2 U. S. C. § 2c is a command to the States and I disagree with the plurality regarding the proper statutory construction of § 2a(c)(5).

I

First, I agree with the plurality’s somewhat reluctant conclusion that § 2c does not impliedly repeal § 2a(c)(5). Here, it is quite easy to read §§ 2c and 2a(c) together. A natural statutory reading of § 2a(c) gives force to both §§ 2c and 2a(c): Section 2a(c) applies “[u]ntil a State is redistricted in the manner provided by the law thereof.” Section 2c applies after a State has “redistricted in the manner provided by the law thereof.”

As both the plurality and JUSTICE STEVENS recognize, an implied repeal can exist only if the “provisions in the two acts are in irreconcilable conflict” or if “the later act covers the whole subject of the earlier one and is clearly intended as a substitute.” Posadas

Virginia v. Black

JUSTICE O’CONNOR announced the judgment of the Court and delivered the opinion of the Court with respect to Parts I, II, and III, and an opinion with respect to Parts IV and V, in which THE CHIEF JUSTICE, JUSTICE STEVENS, and JUSTICE BREYER join.

In this case we consider whether the Commonwealth of Virginia’s statute banning cross burning with “an intent to intimidate a person or group of persons” violates the First Amendment. Va. Code Ann. § 18.2-423 (1996). We conclude that while a State, consistent with the First Amendment, may ban cross burning carried out with the intent to intimidate, the provision in the Virginia statute treating any cross burning as prima facie evidence of intent to intimidate renders the statute unconstitutional in its current form.

I

Respondents Barry Black, Richard Elliott, and Jonathan O’Mara were convicted separately of violating Virginia’s cross-burning statute, § 18.2-423. That statute provides:

“It shall be unlawful for any person or persons, with the intent of intimidating any person or group of persons, to burn, or cause to be burned, a cross on the property of another, a highway or other public place. Any person who shall violate any provision of this section shall be guilty of a Class 6 felony.
“Any such burning of a cross shall be prima facie evidence of an intent to intimidate a person or group of persons.”
On August 22, 1998, Barry Black led a Ku Klux Klan rally in Carroll County, Virginia. Twenty-five to thirty people attended this

Franchise Tax Bd. of Cal. v. Hyatt

JUSTICE O’CONNOR delivered the opinion of the Court. We granted certiorari to resolve whether the Nevada Supreme Court’s refusal to extend full faith and credit to California’s statute immunizing its tax collection agency from suit violates Article IV; § 1, of the Constitution. We conclude it does not, and we therefore affirm the judgment of the Nevada Supreme Court.

I

Respondent Gilbert P. Hyatt (hereinafter respondent) filed a “part-year” resident income tax return in California for 1991. App. to Pet. for Cert. 54. In the return, respondent represented that as of October 1, 1991, he had ceased to be a California resident and had become a resident of Nevada. In 1993, petitioner California Franchise Tax Board (CFTB) commenced an audit to determine whether respondent had underpaid state income taxes. Ibid. The audit focused on

*Eriefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for the State of Florida et al. by Richard E. Dornan, Attorney General of Florida, Jonathan A. Glogau, Barbara J. Ritchie, Acting Attorney General of Alaska, and Thomas R. Keller, Acting Attorney General of Hawaii, and by the Attorneys General for their respective jurisdictions as follows: Ken Salazar of Colorado, Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut, M. Jane Brady of Delaware, James E. Ryan of Illinois, Steve Carter of Indiana, G. Steven Rowe of Maine, J. Joseph Curran, Jr., of Maryland, Jennifer M. Granholm of Michigan, Mike Moore of Mississippi, Mike McGrath of Montana, Wayne Stenehjem of North Dakota,

Demore v. Kim

JUSTICE O’CONNOR, with whom JUSTICE SCALIA and JusTICE THOMAS join, concurring in part and concurring in the judgment.

I join all but Part I of the Court’s opinion because, a majority having determined there is jurisdiction, I agree with the Court’s resolution of respondent’s challenge on the merits. I cannot join Part I because I believe that 8 U. S. C. § 1226(e) unequivocally deprives federal courts of jurisdiction to set aside “any action or decision” by the Attorney General in detaining criminal aliens under § 1226(c) while removal proceedings are ongoing. That is precisely the nature of the action before us.

I

I begin with the text of the statute:”The Attorney General’s discretionary judgment regarding the application of this section shall not be subject to review. No court may set aside any action or decision by the Attorney General under this section regarding the detention or release of any alien or the grant, revocation, or denial of bond or parole.” § 1226(e) (emphasis added).

There is no dispute that after respondent’s release from prison in 1999, the Attorney General detained him “under this section,” i. e., under § 1226. And, the action of which respondent complains is one “regarding the detention or release of a[n] alien or the grant, revocation, or denial of bond or parole.” § 1226(e). In my view, the only plausible reading of § 1226(e) is that Congress intended to prohibit federal courts from “set[ting] aside” the Attorney General’s decision to deem a criminal

Pharmaceutical Research and Mfrs. of America v. Walsh

JUSTICE O’CONNOR, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE and JUSTICE KENNEDY join, concurring in part and dissenting in part.

I join Parts I-III and VI of the Court’s opinion, and I agree with the plurality’s conclusion that States may not impose on Medicaid beneficiaries the burdens of prior authorization in the absence of a countervailing Medicaid purpose, ante, at 662. I part with the plurality because I do not agree that the District Court abused its discretion in enjoining respondents from imposing prior authorization under the Maine Rx Program. Before the District Court, respondents “point[ed] to no Medicaid purpose” served by Maine Rx’s prior-authorization requirement. App. to Pet. for Cert. 68 (emphasis in original). This is not surprising. The program is open to all Maine residents, rich and poor. It does not purport to further a Medicaid-related purpose, and it is not tailored to have such an effect. By imposing prior authorization on Maine’s Medicaid population to achieve wholly non-Medicaid related goals, Maine Rx “stands as an obstacle to the accomplishment and execution of the full purposes and objectives” of the federal Medicaid Act. Hines v. Davido witz, 312 U. S. 52, 67 (1941). I would uphold the District Court’s injunction on this basis, and I therefore respectfully dissent from Parts IV, V, and VII of the plurality’s opinion.

I

Our ultimate task in analyzing a pre-emption claim is “to determine whether state regulation is consistent with the structure and purpose”

Desert Palace Inc. v. Costa

JUSTICE O’CONNOR, concurring.

I join the Court’s opinion. In my view, prior to the Civil Rights Act of 1991, the evidentiary rule we developed to shift the burden of persuasion in mixed-motive cases was appropriately applied only where a disparate treatment plaintiff “demonstrated by direct evidence that an illegitimate factor played a substantial role” in an adverse employment decision. Price Waterhouse v. Hopkins, 490 U. S. 228, 275 (1989) (O’CONNOR, J., concurring in judgment). This showing triggered “the deterrent purpose of the statute” and permitted a reasonable factfinder to conclude that “absent further explanation, the employer’s discriminatory motivation ’caused’ the employment decision.” Id., at 265.

As the Court’s opinion explains, in the Civil Rights Act of 1991, Congress codified a new evidentiary rule for mixedmotive cases arising under Title VII. Ante, at 98-10l. I therefore agree with the Court that the District Court did not abuse its discretion in giving a mixed-motive instruction to the jury.

Gratz v. Bollinger

JUSTICE O’CONNOR, concurring.*

I

Unlike the law school admissions policy the Court upholds today in Grutter v. Bollinger, post, p. 306, the procedures employed by the University of Michigan’s (University) Office of Undergraduate Admissions do not provide for a meaningful individualized review of applicants. Cf. Regents of Univ. of Gal. v. Bakke, 438 U.S. 265 (1978) (principal opinion of Powell, J.). The law school considers the various diversity qualifications of each applicant, including race, on a case-bycase basis. See Grutter v. Bollinger, post, at 337-339. By contrast, the Office of Undergraduate Admissions relies on the selection index to assign every underrepresented minority applicant the same, automatic 20-point bonus without consideration of the particular background, experiences, or qualities of each individual applicant. Cf. ante, at 271-272, 273. And this mechanized selection index score, by and large, automatically determines the admissions decision for each applicant. The selection index thus precludes admissions counselors from conducting the type of individualized consideration the Court’s opinion in Grutter, post, at 334, requires: consideration of each applicant’s individualized qualifications, including the contribution each individual’s race or ethnic identity will make to the diversity of the student body, taking into account diversity within and among all racial and ethnic groups. Cf. ante, at 272-273 (citing Bakke, supra, at 324).

On cross-motions for

Grutter v. Bollinger

JUSTICE O’CONNOR delivered the opinion of the Court. This case requires us to decide whether the use of race as a factor in student admissions by the University of Michigan Law School (Law School) is unlawful.

I

A

The Law School ranks among the Nation’s top law schools. It receives more than 3,500 applications each year for a class of around 350 students. Seeking to “admit a group of students who individually and collectively are among the most capable,” the Law School looks for individuals with “substantial promise for success in law school” and “a strong likelihood of succeeding in the practice of law and contributing in diverse ways to the well-being of others.” App. 110. More broadly, the Law School seeks “a mix of students with varying backgrounds and experiences who will respect and learn from each other.” Ibid. In 1992, the dean of the Law School charged a faculty committee with crafting a written admissions policy to implement these goals. In particular, the Law School sought to ensure that its efforts to achieve student body diversity complied with this Court’s most recent ruling on the use of race in university admissions. See Regents of Univ. of Cal. v. Bakke, 438 U. S. 265 (1978). Upon the unanimous adoption of the committee’s report by the Law School faculty, it became the Law School’s official admissions policy.

The hallmark of that policy is its focus on academic ability coupled with a flexible assessment of applicants’ talents, experiences, and potential

Wiggins v. Smith

JUSTICE O’CONNOR delivered the opinion of the Court. Petitioner, Kevin Wiggins, argues that his attorneys’ failure to investigate his background and present mitigating evidence of his unfortunate life history at his capital sentencing proceedings violated his Sixth Amendment right to counsel. In this case, we consider whether the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit erred in upholding the Maryland Court of Appeals’ rejection of this claim.

I A

On September 17, 1988, police discovered 77-year-old Florence Lacs drowned in the bathtub of her ransacked apartment in Woodlawn, Maryland. Wiggins v. State, 352 Md. 580, 585, 724 A. 2d 1, 5 (1999). The State indicted petitioner for the crime on October 20, 1988, and later filed a notice of intention to seek the death penalty. Two Baltimore County public defenders, Carl Schlaich and Michelle Nethercott, assumed responsibility for Wiggins’ case. In July 1989, petitioner elected to be tried before a judge in Baltimore County

stein and Amy Howe; and for Janet F. Reno et al. by Robert S. Litt, Kathleen A. Behan, and John A. Freedman.

Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the State of California et al. by Bill Lockyer, Attorney General of California, Manuel M. Medeiros, State Solicitor General, Robert R. Anderson, Chief Assistant Attorney General, Pamela C. Hamanaka, Senior Assistant Attorney General, and Kristofer Jorstad, A. Scott Hayward, and Donald E. De Nicola, Deputy Attorneys General, and by the

Georgia v. Ashcroft

JUSTICE O’CONNOR delivered the opinion of the Court.

In this case, we decide whether Georgia’s State Senate redistricting plan should have been precleared under § 5 of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, 79 Stat. 439, as renumbered and amended, 42 U. S. C. § 1973c. Section 5 requires that before a covered jurisdiction’s new voting “standard, prac tice, or procedure” goes into effect, it must be precleared by either the Attorney General of the United States or a federal court to ensure that the change “does not have the purpose and will not have the effect of denying or abridging the right to vote on account of race or color.” 42 U. S. C. § 1973c. Whether a voting procedure change should be precleared depends on whether the change “would lead to a retrogression in the position of racial minorities with respect to their effective exercise of the electoral franchise.” Beer v. United States, 425 U. S. 130, 141 (1976). We therefore must decide whether Georgia’s State Senate redistricting plan is retrogressive as compared to its previous, benchmark districting plan.

I A

Over the past decade, the propriety of Georgia’s state and congressional districts has been the subject of repeated litigation. In 1991, the Georgia General Assembly began the process of redistricting after the 1990 census. Because Georgia is a covered jurisdiction under § 5 of the Voting Rights Act, see Miller v. Johnson, 515 U. S. 900, 905 (1995), Georgia submitted its revised State Senate plan to the United States

Lawrence v. Texas

JUSTICE O’CONNOR, concurring in the judgment.

The Court today overrules Bowers v. Hardwick, 478 U.S. 186 (1986). I joined Bowers, and do not join the Court in overruling it. Nevertheless, I agree with the Court that Texas’ statute banning same-sex sodomy is unconstitutional. See Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 21.06 (2003). Rather than relying on the substantive component of the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause, as the Court does, I base my conclusion on the Fourteenth Amendment’s Equal Protection Clause.

The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment “is essentially a direction that all persons similarly situated should be treated alike.” Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, Inc., 473 U.S. 432, 439 (1985); see also Plyler v. Doe, 457 U.S. 202, 216 (1982). Under our rational basis standard of review, “legislation is presumed to be valid and will be sustained if the classification drawn by the statute is rationally related to a legitimate state interest.” Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, supra, at 440; see also Department of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U.S. 528, 534 (1973); Romer v. Evans, 517 U.S. 620, 632-633 (1996); Nordlinger v. Hahn, 505 U.S. 1, 11-12 (1992).

Laws such as economic or tax legislation that are scrutinized under rational basis review normally pass constitutional muster, since “the Constitution presumes that even improvident decisions will eventually be rectified by the

[580]

democratic processes.” Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, supra, at

McConnell v. Federal Election Comm’n

Justice Stevens and Justice O’Connor delivered the opinion of the Court with respect to BCRA Titles I and II.*

The Bipartisan Campaign Reform Act of 2002 (BCRA), 116 Stat. 81, contains a series of amendments to the Federal Election Campaign Act of 1971 (FECA), 86 Stat. 11, as amended, 2 U. S. C. A. §431 et seq. (main ed. and Supp. 2003), the Communications Act of 1934, 48 Stat. 1088, as amended, 47 U. S. C. A. §315, and other portions of the United States Code, 18 U. S. C. A. §607 (Supp. 2003), 36 U. S. C. A. §§510–511, that are challenged in these cases.[ Footnote 1 ] In this opinion we discuss Titles I and II of BCRA. The opinion of the Court delivered by The Chief Justice, post, p. ___, discusses Titles III and IV, and the opinion of the Court delivered by Justice Breyer, post , p. ___, discusses Title V.

I

More than a century ago the “sober-minded Elihu Root” advocated legislation that would prohibit political contributions by corporations in order to prevent “ ‘the great aggregations of wealth, from using their corporate funds, directly or indirectly,’ ” to elect legislators who would “ ‘vote for their protection and the advancement of their interests as against those of the public.’ ” United States v. Automobile Workers, 352 U. S. 567 , 571 (1957) (quoting E. Root, Addresses on Government and Citizenship 143 (R. Bacon & J. Scott eds. 1916)). In Root’s opinion, such legislation would “ ‘strik[e] at a constantly growing evil which has done more to shake the confidence

SEC v. Edwards

Justice O’Connor delivered the opinion of the Court.

“Opportunity doesn’t always knock … sometimes it rings.” App. 113 (ETS Payphones promotional brochure). And sometimes it hangs up. So it did for the 10,000 people who invested a total of $300 million in the payphone sale-and-leaseback arrangements touted by respondent under that slogan.

Fellers v. United States

Justice O’Connor delivered the opinion of the Court.
After a grand jury indicted petitioner John J. Fellers, police officers arrested him at his home. During the course of the arrest, petitioner made several inculpatory statements. He argued that the officers deliberately elicited these statements from him outside the presence of counsel, and that the admission at trial of the fruits of those statements therefore violated his Sixth Amendment right to counsel. Petitioner contends that in rejecting this argument, the Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit improperly held that the Sixth Amendment right to counsel was “not applicable” because “the officers did not interrogate [petitioner] at his home.” 285 F. 3d 721, 724 (2002). We granted the petition for a writ of certiorari, 538 U. S. 905 (2003), and now reverse.
I
On February 24, 2000, after a grand jury indicted petitioner for conspiracy to distribute methamphetamine, Lincoln Police Sergeant Michael Garnett and Lancaster County Deputy Sheriff Jeff Bliemeister went to petitioner’s home in Lincoln, Nebraska, to arrest him. App. 111. The officers knocked on petitioner’s door and, when petitioner answered, identified themselves and asked if they could come in. Ibid. Petitioner invited the officers into his living room. Ibid.
The officers advised petitioner they had come to discuss his involvement in methamphetamine distribution. Id.,at 112. They informed petitioner that they had a federal warrant for his arrest and that a grand jury had indicted him for conspiracy to distribute methamphetamine.Ibid. The officers told petitioner that the indictment referred to his involvement with certain individuals, four of whom they named.Ibid. Petitioner then told the officers that he knew the four people and had used methamphetamine during his association with them.Ibid.
After spending about 15 minutes in petitioner’s home, the officers transported petitioner to the Lancaster County jail. Ibid. There, the officers advised petitioner for the first time of his rights under Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436 (1966), and Patterson v. Illinois, 487 U. S. 285 (1988). App. 112 . Petitioner and the two officers signed a Miranda waiver form, and petitioner then reiterated the inculpatory statements he had made earlier, admitted to having associated with other individuals implicated in the charged conspiracy, App. 29–39, and admitted to having loaned money to one of them even though he suspected that she was involved in drug transactions, id., at 34.
Before trial, petitioner moved to suppress the inculpatory statements he made at his home and at the county jail. A Magistrate Judge conducted a hearing and recommended that the statements petitioner made at his home be suppressed because the officers had not informed petitioner of his Miranda rights. App. 110–111. The Magistrate Judge found that petitioner made the statements in response to the officers’ “implici[t] questions,” noting that the officers had told petitioner that the purpose of their visit was to discuss his use and distribution of methamphetamine. Id., at 110. The Magistrate Judge further recommended that portions of petitioner’s jailhouse statement be suppressed as fruits of the prior failure to provide Miranda warnings. App. 110–111.
The District Court suppressed the “unwarned” statements petitioner made at his house but admitted petitioner’s jailhouse statements pursuant to Oregon v. Elstad, 470 U. S. 298 (1985), concluding petitioner had knowingly and voluntarily waived his Miranda rights before making the statements. App. 112–115.
Following a jury trial at which petitioner’s jailhouse statements were admitted into evidence, petitioner was convicted of conspiring to possess with intent to distribute methamphetamine. Petitioner appealed, arguing that his jailhouse statements should have been suppressed as fruits of the statements obtained at his home in violation of the Sixth Amendment. The Court of Appeals affirmed. 285 F. 3d 721 (CA8 2002). With respect to petitioner’s argument that the officers’ failure to administer Miranda warnings at his home violated his Sixth Amendment right to counsel under Patterson, supra, the Court of Appeals stated: “ Patterson is not applicable here … for the officers did not interrogate [petitioner] at his home.” 285 F. 3d, at 724. The Court of Appeals also concluded that the statements from the jail were properly admitted under the rule of Elstad, supra. 285 F. 3d, at 724 (“ ‘Though Miranda requires that the unwarned admission must be suppressed, the admissibility of any subsequent statement should turn in these circumstances solely on whether it is knowingly and voluntarily made’ ” (quoting Elstad, supra, at 309)).
Judge Riley filed a concurring opinion. He concluded that during their conversation at petitioner’s home, officers “deliberately elicited incriminating information” from petitioner. 285 F. 3d, at 726–727. That “post-indictment conduct outside the presence of counsel,” Judge Riley reasoned, violated petitioner’s Sixth Amendment rights. Id., at 727. Judge Riley nevertheless concurred in the judgment, concluding that the jailhouse statements were admissible under the rationale of Elstad in light of petitioner’s knowing and voluntary waiver of his right to counsel. 285 F. 3d, at 727.
II
The Sixth Amendment right to counsel is triggered “at or after the time that judicial proceedings have been initiated … ‘whether by way of formal charge, preliminary hearing, indictment, information, or arraignment.’ ” Brewer v. Williams, 430 U. S. 387, 398 (1977) (quoting Kirby v. Illinois, 406 U. S. 682, 689 (1972)). We have held that an accused is denied “the basic protections” of the Sixth Amendment “when there [is] used against him at his trial evidence of his own incriminating words, which federal agents … deliberately elicited from him after he had been indicted and in the absence of his counsel.” Massiah v. United States, 377 U. S. 201, 206 (1964); cf. Patterson v. Illinois, supra (holding that the Sixth Amendment does not bar postindictment questioning in the absence of counsel if a defendant waives the right to counsel).
We have consistently applied the deliberate-elicitation standard in subsequent Sixth Amendment cases, see United States v. Henry, 447 U. S. 264, 270 (1980) (“The question here is whether under the facts of this case a Government agent ‘deliberately elicited’ incriminating statements … within the meaning of Massiah ”); Brewer, supra, at 399 (finding a Sixth Amendment violation where a detective “deliberately and designedly set out to elicit information from [the suspect]”), and we have expressly distinguished this standard from the Fifth Amendment custodial-interrogation standard, see Michigan v. Jackson, 475 U. S. 625, 632, n. 5 (1986) (“[T]he Sixth Amendment provides a right to counsel … even when there is no interrogation and no Fifth Amendment applicability”); Rhode Island v. Innis, 446 U. S. 291, 300, n. 4 (1980) (“The definitions of ‘interrogation’ under the Fifth and Sixth Amendments, if indeed the term ‘interrogation’ is even apt in the Sixth Amendment context, are not necessarily interchangeable”); cf. United States v. Wade, 388 U. S. 218 (1967) (holding that the Sixth Amendment provides the right to counsel at a postindictment lineup even though the Fifth Amendment is not implicated).
The Court of Appeals erred in holding that the absence of an “interrogation” foreclosed petitioner’s claim that the jailhouse statements should have been suppressed as fruits of the statements taken from petitioner at his home. First, there is no question that the officers in this case “deliberately elicited” information from petitioner. Indeed, the officers, upon arriving at petitioner’s house, informed him that their purpose in coming was to discuss his involvement in the distribution of methamphetamine and his association with certain charged co-conspirators. 285 F. 3d, at 723; App. 112. Because the ensuing discussion took place after petitioner had been indicted, outside the presence of counsel, and in the absence of any waiver of petitioner’s Sixth Amendment rights, the Court of Appeals erred in holding that the officers’ actions did not violate the Sixth Amendment standards established in Massiah, supra, and its progeny.
Second, because of its erroneous determination that petitioner was not questioned in violation of Sixth Amendment standards, the Court of Appeals improperly conducted its “fruits” analysis under the Fifth Amendment. Specifically, it applied Elstad, supra, to hold that the admissibility of the jailhouse statements turns solely on whether the statements were “ ‘knowingly and voluntarily made.’ ” 285 F. 3d, at 724 (quoting Elstad, supra, at 309). The Court of Appeals did not reach the question whether the Sixth Amendment requires suppression of petitioner’s jailhouse statements on the ground that they were the fruits of previous questioning conducted in violation of the Sixth Amendment deliberate-elicitation standard. We have not had occasion to decide whether the rationale of Elstad applies when a suspect makes incriminating statements after a knowing and voluntary waiver of his right to counsel notwithstanding earlier police questioning in violation of Sixth Amendment standards. We therefore remand to the Court of Appeals to address this issue in the first instance.
Accordingly, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
It is so ordered.

South Fla. Water Management Dist. v. Miccosukee Tribe

Justice O’Connor delivered the opinion of the Court.
Petitioner South Florida Water Management District operates a pumping facility that transfers water from a canal into a reservoir a short distance away. Respondents Miccosukee Tribe of Indians and the Friends of the Everglades brought a citizen suit under the Clean Water Act contending that the pumping facility is required to obtain a discharge permit under the National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System. The District Court agreed and granted summary judgment to respondents. A panel of the United States Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit affirmed. Both the District Court and the Eleventh Circuit rested their holdings on the predicate determination that the canal and reservoir are two distinct water bodies. For the reasons explained below, we vacate and remand for further development of the factual record as to the accuracy of that determination.
I
A
The Central and South Florida Flood Control Project (Project) consists of a vast array of levees, canals, pumps, and water impoundment areas in the land between south Florida’s coastal hills and the Everglades. Historically, that land was itself part of the Everglades, and its surface and groundwater flowed south in a uniform and unchanneled sheet. Starting in the early 1900’s, however, the State began to build canals to drain the wetlands and make them suitable for cultivation. These canals proved to be a source of trouble; they lowered the water table, allowing salt water to intrude upon coastal wells, and they proved incapable of controlling flooding. Congress established the Project in 1948 to address these problems. It gave the United States Army Corps of Engineers the task of constructing a comprehensive network of levees, water storage areas, pumps, and canal improvements that would serve several simultaneous purposes, including flood protection, water conservation, and drainage. These improvements fundamentally altered the hydrology of the Everglades, changing the natural sheet flow of ground and surface water. The local sponsor and day-to-day operator of the Project is the South Florida Water Management District (District).
Five discrete elements of the Project are at issue in this case. One is a canal called “C–11.” C–11 collects groundwater and rainwater from a 104 square–mile area in south central Broward County. App. 110. The area drained by C–11 includes urban, agricultural, and residential development, and is home to 136,000 people. At the western terminus of C–11 is the second Project element at issue here: a large pump station known as “S–9.” When the water level in C–11 rises above a set level, S–9 begins operating and pumps water out of the canal. The water does not travel far. Sixty feet away, the pump station empties the water into a large undeveloped wetland area called “WCA–3,” the third element of the Project we consider here. WCA–3 is the largest of several “water conservation areas” that are remnants of the original South Florida Everglades. The District impounds water in these areas to conserve fresh water that might otherwise flow directly to the ocean, and to preserve wetlands habitat. Id., at 112.
Using pump stations like S–9, the District maintains the water table in WCA–3 at a level significantly higher than that in the developed lands drained by the C–11 canal to the east. Absent human intervention, that water would simply flow back east, where it would rejoin the waters of the canal and flood the populated areas of the C–11 basin. That return flow is prevented, or, more accurately, slowed, by levees that hold back the surface waters of WCA–3. Two of those levees, L–33 and L–37, are the final two elements of the Project at issue here. The combined effect of L–33 and L–37, C–11, and S–9 is artificially to separate the C–11 basin from WCA–3; left to nature, the two areas would be a single wetland covered in an undifferentiated body of surface and ground water flowing slowly southward.
B
As the above description illustrates, the Project has wrought large-scale hydrologic and environmental change in South Florida, some deliberate and some accidental. Its most obvious environmental impact has been the conversion of what were once wetlands into areas suitable for human use. But the Project also has affected those areas that remain wetland ecosystems.
Rain on the western side of the L–33 and L–37 levees falls into the wetland ecosystem of WCA–3. Rain on the eastern side of the levees, on the other hand, falls on agricultural, urban, and residential land. Before it enters the C–11 canal, whether directly as surface runoff or indirectly as groundwater, that rainwater absorbs contaminants produced by human activities. The water in C–11 therefore differs chemically from that in WCA–3. Of particular interest here, C–11 water contains elevated levels of phosphorous, which is found in fertilizers used by farmers in the C–11 basin. When water from C–11 is pumped across the levees, the phosphorous it contains alters the balance of WCA–3’s ecosystem (which is naturally low in phosphorous) and stimulates the growth of algae and plants foreign to the Everglades ecosystem.
The phosphorous-related impacts of the Project are well known and have received a great deal of attention from state and federal authorities for more than 20 years. A number of initiatives are currently under way to reduce these impacts and thereby restore the ecological integrity of the Everglades. Respondents Miccosukee Tribe of Indians and the Friends of the Everglades (hereinafter simply Tribe), impatient with the pace of this progress, brought this Clean Water Act suit in the United States District Court for the Southern District of Florida. They sought, among other things, to enjoin the operation of S–9 and, in turn, the conveyance of water from C–11 into WCA–3.
C
Congress enacted the Clean Water Act (Act) in 1972. Its stated objective was “to restore and maintain the chemical, physical, and biological integrity of the Nation’s waters.” 86 Stat. 816, 33 U. S. C. §1251. To serve those ends, the Act prohibits “the discharge of any pollutant by any person” unless done in compliance with some provision of the Act. §1311(a). The provision relevant to this case, §1342, establishes the National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System, or “NPDES.” Generally speaking, the NPDES requires dischargers to obtain permits that place limits on the type and quantity of pollutants that can be released into the Nation’s waters. The Act defines the phrase “ ‘discharge of a pollutant’ ” to mean “any addition of any pollutant to navigable waters from any point source.” §1362(12). A “ ‘point source,’ ” in turn, is defined as “any discernible, confined and discrete conveyance,” such as a pipe, ditch, channel, or tunnel, “from which pollutants are or may be discharged.” §1362(14).
According to the Tribe, the District cannot operate S–9 without an NPDES permit because the pump station moves phosphorous-laden water from C–11 into WCA–3. The District does not dispute that phosphorous is a pollutant, or that C–11 and WCA–3 are “navigable waters” within the meaning of the Act. The question, it contends, is whether the operation of the S–9 pump constitutes the “discharge of [a] pollutant” within the meaning of the Act.
The parties filed cross-motions for summary judgment on the issue of whether S–9 requires an NPDES permit. The District Court granted the Tribe’s motion, reasoning as follows:
“In this case an addition of pollutants exists because undisputedly water containing pollutants is being discharged through S–9 from C–11 waters into the Everglades, both of which are separate bodies of United States water with… different quality levels. They are two separate bodies of water because the transfer of water or its contents from C–11 into the Everglades would not occur naturally.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 28a–29a.
The Court of Appeals affirmed. It reasoned first that “in determining whether pollutants are added to navigable waters for purposes of the [Act], the receiving body of water is the relevant body of navigable water.” 280 F. 3d 1364, 1368 (CA11 2002). After concluding that pollutants were indeed being added to WCA–3, the court then asked whether that addition of pollutants was from a “point source,” so as to trigger the NPDES permitting requirement. To answer that question, it explained:
“[F]or an addition of pollutants to be from a point source, the relevant inquiry is whether—but for the point source—the pollutants would have been added to the receiving body of water. We, therefore, conclude that an addition from a point source occurs if a point source is the cause in fact of the release of pollutants into navigable waters.
“When a point source changes the natural flow of a body of water which contains pollutants and causes that water to flow into another distinct body of navigable water into which it would not have otherwise flowed, that point source is the cause-in-fact of the discharge of pollutants.” Ibid. (footnote omitted).
Because it believed that the water in the C–11 canal would not flow into WCA–3 without the operation of the S–9 pump station, the Court of Appeals concluded that S–9 was the cause-in-fact of the addition of pollutants to WCA–3. It accordingly affirmed the District Court’s grant of summary judgment, and held that the S–9 pump station requires an NPDES permit. We granted certiorari. 539 U. S. 957 (2003).
II
The District and the Federal Government, as amicus, advance three separate arguments, any of which would, if accepted, lead to the conclusion that the S–9 pump station does not require a point source discharge permit under the NPDES program. Two of these arguments involve the application of disputed contentions of law to agreed-upon facts, while the third involves the application of agreed-upon law to disputed facts. For reasons explained below, we decline at this time to resolve all of the parties’ legal disagreements, and instead remand for further proceedings regarding their factual dispute.
A
In its opening brief on the merits, the District argued that the NPDES program applies to a point source “only when a pollutant originates from the point source,” and not when pollutants originating elsewhere merely pass through the point source. Brief for Petitioner 20. This argument mirrors the question presented in the District’s petition for certiorari: “Whether the pumping of water by a state water management agency that adds nothing to the water being pumped constitutes an ‘addition’ of a pollutant ‘from’ a point source triggering the need for a National Pollutant Discharge Elimination System permit under the Clean Water Act.” Pet. for Cert. i. Although the Government rejects the District’s legal position, Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 21, it and the Tribe agree with the factual proposition that S–9 does not itself add any pollutants to the water it conveys into WCA–3.
This initial argument is untenable, and even the District appears to have abandoned it in its reply brief. Reply Brief for Petitioner 2. A point source is, by definition, a “discernible, confined, and discrete conveyance.” §1362(14) (emphasis added). That definition makes plain that a point source need not be the original source of the pollutant; it need only convey the pollutant to “navigable waters,” which are, in turn, defined as “the waters of the United States.” §1362(7). Tellingly, the examples of “point sources” listed by the Act include pipes, ditches, tunnels, and conduits, objects that do not themselves generate pollutants but merely transport them. §1362(14). In addition, one of the Act’s primary goals was to impose NPDES permitting requirements on municipal wastewater treatment plants. See, e.g., §1311(b)(1)(B) (establishing a compliance schedule for publicly owned treatment works). But under the District’s interpretation of the Act, the NPDES program would not cover such plants, because they treat and discharge pollutants added to water by others. We therefore reject the District’s proposed reading of the definition of “ ‘discharge of a pollutant’ ” contained in §1362(12). That definition includes within its reach point sources that do not themselves generate pollutants.
B
Having answered the precise question on which we granted certiorari, we turn to a second argument, advanced primarily by the Government as amicus curiae in merits briefing and at oral argument. For purposes of determining whether there has been “any addition of any pollutant to navigable waters from any point source,” ibid., the Government contends that all the water bodies that fall within the Act’s definition of “ ‘navigable waters’ ” (that is, all “the waters of the United States, including the territorial seas,” §1362(7)) should be viewed unitarily for purposes of NPDES permitting requirements. Because the Act requires NPDES permits only when there is an addition of a pollutant “to navigable waters,” the Government’s approach would lead to the conclusion that such permits are not required when water from one navigable water body is discharged, unaltered, into another navigable water body. That would be true even if one water body were polluted and the other pristine, and the two would not otherwise mix. See Catskill Mountains Chapter of Trout Unlimited, Inc. v. New York, 273 F. 3d 481, 492 (CA2 2001); Dubois v. United States Dept. of Agriculture, 102 F. 3d 1273 (CA1 1996). Under this “unitary waters” approach, the S–9 pump station would not need an NPDES permit.
1
The “unitary waters” argument focuses on the Act’s definition of a pollutant discharge as “any addition of any pollutant to navigable waters from any point source.” §1362(12). The Government contends that the absence of the word “any” prior to the phrase “navigable waters” in §1362(12) signals Congress’ understanding that NPDES permits would not be required for pollution caused by the engineered transfer of one “navigable water” into another. It argues that Congress intended that such pollution instead would be addressed through local nonpoint source pollution programs. Section 1314(f)(2(F), which concerns nonpoint sources, directs the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) to give States information on the evaluation and control of “pollution resulting from… changes in the movement, flow, or circulation of any navigable waters or ground waters, including changes caused by the construction of dams, levees, channels, causeways, or flow diversion facilities.”
We note, however, that §1314(f)(2)(F) does not explicitly exempt nonpoint pollution sources from the NPDES program if they also fall within the “point source” definition. And several NPDES provisions might be read to suggest a view contrary to the unitary waters approach. For example, under the Act, a State may set individualized ambient water quality standards by taking into consideration “the designated uses of the navigable waters involved.” 33 U. S. C. §1313(c)(2)(A). Those water quality standards, in turn, directly affect local NPDES permits; if standard permit conditions fail to achieve the water quality goals for a given water body, the State must determine the total pollutant load that the water body can sustain and then allocate that load among the permit-holders who discharge to the water body. §1313(d). This approach suggests that the Act protects individual water bodies as well as the “waters of the United States” as a whole.
The Government also suggests that we adopt the “unitary waters” approach out of deference to a longstanding EPA view that the process of “transporting, impounding, and releasing navigable waters” cannot constitute an “ ‘addition’ ” of pollutants to “ ‘the waters of the United States.’ ” Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 16. But the Government does not identify any administrative documents in which EPA has espoused that position. Indeed, an amicus brief filed by several former EPA officials argues that the agency once reached the opposite conclusion. See Brief for Former Administrator Carol M. Browner et al. as Amici Curiae 17 (citing In re Riverside Irrigation Dist., 1975 WL 23864 (Off. Gen. Couns., June 27, 1975) (irrigation ditches that discharge to navigable waters require NPDES permits even if they themselves qualify as navigable waters)). The “unitary waters” approach could also conflict with current NPDES regulations. For example, 40 CFR §122.45(g)(4) (2003) allows an industrial water user to obtain “intake credit” for pollutants present in water that it withdraws from navigable waters. When the permit holder discharges the water after use, it does not have to remove pollutants that were in the water before it was withdrawn. There is a caveat, however: EPA extends such credit “only if the discharger demonstrates that the intake water is drawn from the same body of water into which the discharge is made.” The NPDES program thus appears to address the movement of pollutants among water bodies, at least at times.
Finally, the Government and numerous amici warn that affirming the Court of Appeals in this case would have significant practical consequences. If we read the Clean Water Act to require an NPDES permit for every engineered diversion of one navigable water into another, thousands of new permits might have to be issued, particularly by western States, whose water supply networks often rely on engineered transfers among various natural water bodies. See Brief for Colorado et al. as Amici Curiae 2–4. Many of those diversions might also require expensive treatment to meet water quality criteria. It may be that construing the NPDES program to cover such transfers would therefore raise the costs of water distribution prohibitively, and violate Congress’ specific instruction that “the authority of each State to allocate quantities of water within its jurisdiction shall not be superseded, abrogated or otherwise impaired” by the Act. §1251(g). On the other hand, it may be that such permitting authority is necessary to protect water quality, and that the States or EPA could control regulatory costs by issuing general permits to point sources associated with water distribution programs. See 40 CFR §§122.28, 123.25 (2003).* Indeed, that is the position of the one State that has interpreted the Act to cover interbasin water transfers. See Brief for Pennsylvania Department of Environmental Protection as Amicus Curiae 11–18.
2
Because WCA–3 and C–11 are both “navigable waters,” adopting the “unitary waters” approach would lead to the conclusion that the District may operate S–9 without an NPDES permit. But despite its relevance here, neither the District nor the Government raised the unitary waters approach before the Court of Appeals or in their briefs respecting the petition for certiorari. (The District adopted the position as its own in its reply brief on the merits.) Indeed, we are not aware of any reported case that examines the unitary waters argument in precisely the form that the Government now presents it. As a result, we decline to resolve it here. Because we find it necessary to vacate the judgment of the Court of Appeals with respect to a third argument presented by the District, the unitary waters argument will be open to the parties on remand.
C
In the courts below, as here, the District contended that the C–11 canal and WCA–3 impoundment area are not distinct water bodies at all, but instead are two hydrologically indistinguishable parts of a single water body. The Government agrees with the District on this point, claiming that because the C–11 canal and WCA–3 “share a unique, intimately related, hydrological association,” they “can appropriately be viewed, for purposes of Section 402 of the Clean Water Act, as parts of a single body of water.” Brief for United States in Opposition 13. The Tribe does not dispute that if C–11 and WCA–3 are simply two parts of the same water body, pumping water from one into the other cannot constitute an “addition” of pollutants. As the Second Circuit put it in Trout Unlimited, “[i]f one takes a ladle of soup from a pot, lifts it above the pot, and pours it back into the pot, one has not ‘added’ soup or anything else to the pot.” 273 F. 3d, at 492. What the Tribe disputes is the accuracy of the District’s factual premise; according to the Tribe, C–11 and WCA–3 are two pots of soup, not one.
The record does contain information supporting the District’s view of the facts. Although C–11 and WCA–3 are divided from one another by the L–33 and L–37 levees, that line appears to be an uncertain one. Because Everglades soil is extremely porous, water flows easily between ground and surface waters, so much so that “[g]round and surface waters are essentially the same thing.” App. 111, 117. C–11 and WCA–3, of course, share a common underlying aquifer. Tr. of Oral Arg. 42. Moreover, the L–33 and L–37 levees continually leak, allowing water to escape from WCA–3. This means not only that any boundary between C–11 and WCA–3 is indistinct, but also that there is some significant mingling of the two waters; the record reveals that even without use of the S–9 pump station, water travels as both seepage and groundwater flow between the water conservation area and the C–11 basin. App. 172, see also id., at 37 (describing flow between C–11 and WCA–3 as “cyclical”).
The parties also disagree about how the relationship between S–9 and WCA–3 should be assessed. At oral argument, counsel for the Tribe focused on the differing “biological or ecosystem characteristics” of the respective waters, Tr. of Oral Arg. 43; see also Brief for Respondent Miccosukee Tribe of Indians of Florida 6–7; Brief for Respondent Friends of the Everglades 18–22, while counsel for the District emphasizes the close hydrological connections between the two. See, e.g., Brief for Petitioner 47. Despite these disputes, the District Court granted summary judgment to the Tribe. It applied a test that neither party defends; it determined that C–11 and WCA–3 are distinct “because the transfer of water or its contents from C–11 into the Everglades would not occur naturally.” App. to Pet. for Cert. 28a. The Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit endorsed this test. 280 F. 3d, at 1368.
We do not decide here whether the District Court’s test is adequate for determining whether C–11 and WCA–3 are distinct. Instead, we hold only that the District Court applied its test prematurely. Summary judgment is appropriate only where there is no genuine issue of material fact. See Celotex Corp. v. Catrett, 477 U. S. 317 (1986). The record before us leads us to believe that some factual issues remain unresolved. The District Court certainly was correct to characterize the flow through the S–9 pump station as a non-natural one, propelled as it is by diesel-fired motors against the pull of gravity. And it also appears true that if S–9 were shut down, the water in the C–11 canal might for a brief time flow east, rather than west, as it now does. But the effects of shutting down the pump might extend beyond that. The limited record before us suggests that if S–9 were shut down, the area drained by C–11 would flood quite quickly. See 280 F. 3d, at 1366 (“Without the operation of the S–9 pump station, the populated western portion of Broward County would flood within days”). That flooding might mean that C–11 would no longer be a “distinct body of navigable water,” id., at 1368, but part of a larger water body extending over WCA–3 and the C–11 basin. It also might call into question the Eleventh Circuit’s conclusion that S–9 is the cause in fact of phosphorous addition to WCA–3. Nothing in the record suggests that the District Court considered these issues when it granted summary judgment. Indeed, in ordering later emergency relief from its own injunction against the operation of the S–9 pump station, the court admitted that it had not previously understood that shutting down S–9 would “literally ope[n] the flood gates.” Id., at 1371.
We find that further development of the record is necessary to resolve the dispute over the validity of the distinction between C–11 and WCA–3. After reviewing the full record, it is possible that the District Court will conclude that C–11 and WCA–3 are not meaningfully distinct water bodies. If it does so, then the S–9 pump station will not need an NPDES permit. In addition, the Government’s broader “unitary waters” argument is open to the District on remand. Accordingly, the judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit is vacated, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
It is so ordered.

Notes
*An applicant for an individual NPDES permit must provide information about, among other things, the point source itself, the nature of the pollutants to be discharged, and any water treatment system that will be used. General permits greatly reduce that administrative burden by authorizing discharges from a category of point sources within a specified geographic area. Once EPA or a state agency issues such a permit, covered entities, in some cases, need take no further action to achieve compliance with the NPDES besides adhering to the permit conditions. See 40 CFR §122.28(b)(2)(v) (2003).

Dretke v. Haley

Justice O’Connor delivered the opinion of the Court.
Out of respect for finality, comity, and the orderly administration of justice, a federal court will not entertain a procedurally defaulted constitutional claim in a petition for habeas corpus absent a showing of cause and prejudice to excuse the default. We have recognized a narrow exception to the general rule when the habeas applicant can demonstrate that the alleged constitutional error has resulted in the conviction of one who is actually innocent of the underlying offense or, in the capital sentencing context, of the aggravating circumstances rendering the inmate eligible for the death penalty. Murray v. Carrier, 477 U. S. 478 (1986); Sawyer v. Whitley, 505 U. S. 333 (1992). The question before us is whether this exception applies where an applicant asserts “actual innocence” of a noncapital sentence. Because the District Court failed first to consider alternative grounds for relief urged by respondent, grounds that might obviate any need to reach the actual innocence question, we vacate the judgment and remand.
I
In 1997, respondent Michael Wayne Haley was arrested after stealing a calculator from a local Wal-Mart and attempting to exchange it for other merchandise. Respondent was charged with, and found guilty at trial of, theft of property valued at less than $1,500, which, because respondent already had two prior theft convictions, was a “state jail felony” punishable by a maximum of two years in prison. App. 8; Tex. Penal Code Ann. §31.03(e)(4)(D) (Supp. 2004). The State also charged respondent as a habitual felony offender. The indictment alleged that respondent had two prior felony convictions and that the first—a 1991 conviction for delivery of amphetamine— “became final prior to the commission” of the second—a 1992 robbery. App. 9. The timing of the first conviction and the second offense is significant: Under Texas’ habitual offender statute, only a defendant convicted of a felony who “has previously been finally convicted of two felonies, and the second previous felony conviction is for an offense that occurred subsequent to the first previous conviction having become final, … shall be punished for a second-degree felony.” §12.42(a)(2) (emphasis added). A second degree felony carries a minimum sentence of 2 and a maximum sentence of 20 years in prison. §12.33(a).
Texas provides for bifurcated trials in habitual offender cases. Tex. Code Crim. Proc. Ann., Art. 37.07, §3 (Vernon Supp. 2004). If a defendant is found guilty of the substantive offense, the State, at a separate penalty hearing, must prove the habitual offender allegations beyond a reasonable doubt. Ibid. During the penalty phase of respondent’s trial, the State introduced records showing that respondent had been convicted of delivery of amphetamine on October 18, 1991, and attempted robbery on September 9, 1992. The record of the second conviction, however, showed that respondent had committed the robbery on October 15, 1991—three days before his first conviction became final. Neither the prosecutor, nor the defense attorney, nor the witness tendered by the State to authenticate the records, nor the trial judge, nor the jury, noticed the 3-day discrepancy. Indeed, the defense attorney chose not to cross-examine the State’s witness or to put on any evidence.
The jury returned a verdict of guilty on the habitual offender charge and recommended a sentence of 16½ years; the court followed the recommendation. Respondent appealed. Appellate counsel did not mention the 3-day discrepancy nor challenge the sufficiency of the penalty-phase evidence to support the habitual offender enhancement. The State Court of Appeals affirmed respondent’s conviction and sentence; the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals refused respondent’s petition for discretionary review.
Respondent thereafter sought state postconviction relief, arguing for the first time that he was ineligible for the habitual offender enhancement based on the timing of his second conviction. App. 83, 87–88. The state habeas court refused to consider the merits of that claim because respondent had not raised it, as required by state procedural law, either at trial or on direct appeal. Id., at 107, 108. The state habeas court rejected respondent’s related ineffective assistance of counsel claim, saying only that “counsel was not ineffective” for failing to object to or to appeal the enhancement. Id., at 108. The Texas Court of Criminal Appeals summarily denied respondent’s state habeas application. Id., at 109.
In August 2000, respondent filed a timely pro se application for a federal writ of habeas corpus pursuant to 28 U. S. C. §2254, renewing his sufficiency of the evidence and ineffective assistance of counsel claims. App. 110, 118–119; id., at 122, 124, 126–127. The State conceded that respondent was “correct in his assertion that the enhancement paragraphs as alleged in the indictment do not satisfy section 12.42(a)(2) of the Texas Penal Code.” Id., at 132, 140. Rather than agree to resentencing, however, the State argued that respondent had procedurally defaulted the sufficiency of the evidence claim by failing to raise it before the state trial court or on direct appeal. Id., at 142–144. The Magistrate Judge, to whom the habeas application had been referred, recommended excusing the procedural default and granting the sufficiency of the evidence claim because respondent was “ ‘actually innocent’ of a sentence for a second-degree felony.” Haley v. Director, Texas Dept. of Criminal Justice, Institutions Div., Civ. No. 6:00cv518 (ED Tex., Sept. 13, 2001) p. 10, App. to Pet. for Cert. 49a (quoting Sones v. Hargett, 61 F. 3d 410, 419 (CA5 1995)). Because she recommended relief on the erroneous enhancement claim, the Magistrate Judge did not address respondent’s related ineffective assistance of counsel challenges. App. to Pet. for Cert. 50a–52a. The District Court adopted the Magistrate Judge’s report, granted the application, and ordered the State to resentence respondent “without the improper enhancement.” Id., at 36a–37a (Oct. 27, 2001).
The Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit affirmed, holding narrowly that the actual innocence exception “applies to noncapital sentencing procedures involving a career offender or habitual felony offender.” Haley v. Cockrell, 306 F. 3d 257, 264 (2002). The Fifth Circuit thus joined the Fourth Circuit in holding that the exception should not extend beyond allegedly erroneous recidivist enhancements to other claims of noncapital factual sentencing error: “[T]o broaden the exception further would ‘swallow’ the ‘cause portion of the cause and prejudice requirement’ and it ‘would conflict squarely with Supreme Court authority indicating that generally more than prejudice must exist to excuse procedural default.’ ” Id., at 266 (quoting United States v. Mikalajunas, 186 F. 3d 490, 494–495 (CA4 1999)). Finding the exception satisfied, the panel then granted relief on the merits of respondent’s otherwise defaulted sufficiency of the evidence claim. In so doing, the panel assumed that challenges to the sufficiency of noncapital sentencing evidence are cognizable on federal habeas under Jackson v. Virginia, 443 U. S. 307 (1979). 306 F. 3d, at 266–267 (citing French v. Estelle, 692 F. 2d 1021, 1024–1025 (CA5 1982)).
The Fifth Circuit’s decision exacerbated a growing divergence of opinion in the Courts of Appeals regarding the availability and scope of the actual innocence exception in the noncapital sentencing context. Compare Embrey v. Hershberger, 131 F. 3d 739 (CA8 1997) (en banc) (no actual innocence exception for noncapital sentencing error); Reid v. Oklahoma, 101 F. 3d 628 (CA10 1996) (same), with Spence v. Superintendent, Great Meadow Correctional Facility, 219 F. 3d 162 (CA2 2000) (actual innocence exception applies in noncapital sentencing context when error is related to finding of predicate act forming the basis for enhancement), and Mikalajunas, supra (actual innocence exception applies in noncapital sentencing context where error relates to a recidivist enhancement). We granted the State’s request for a writ of certiorari, 540 U. S. ___ (2003), and now vacate and remand.
II
The procedural default doctrine, like the abuse of writ doctrine, “refers to a complex and evolving body of equitable principles informed and controlled by historical usage, statutory developments, and judicial decisions.” McCleskey v. Zant, 499 U. S. 467, 489 (1991). A corollary to the habeas statute’s exhaustion requirement, the doctrine has its roots in the general principle that federal courts will not disturb state court judgments based on adequate and independent state law procedural grounds. Wainwright v. Sykes, 433 U. S. 72, 81 (1977); Brown v. Allen, 344 U. S. 443, 486–487 (1953). But, while an adequate and independent state procedural disposition strips this Court of certiorari jurisdiction to review a state court’s judgment, it provides only a strong prudential reason, grounded in “considerations of comity and concerns for the orderly administration of justice,” not to pass upon a defaulted constitutional claim presented for federal habeas review. Francis v. Henderson, 425 U. S. 536, 538– 539 (1976); see also Fay v. Noia, 372 U. S. 391, 399 (1963) (“[T]he doctrine under which state procedural defaults are held to constitute an adequate and independent state law ground barring direct Supreme Court review is not to be extended to limit the power granted the federal courts under the federal habeas statute”). That being the case, we have recognized an equitable exception to the bar when a habeas applicant can demonstrate cause and prejudice for the procedural default. Wainwright, supra, at 87. The cause and prejudice requirement shows due regard for States’ finality and comity interests while ensuring that “fundamental fairness [remains] the central concern of the writ of habeas corpus.” Strickland v. Washington, 466 U. S. 668, 697 (1984).
The cause and prejudice standard is not a perfect safeguard against fundamental miscarriages of justice. Murray v. Carrier, 477 U. S. 478 (1986), thus recognized a narrow exception to the cause requirement where a constitutional violation has “probably resulted” in the conviction of one who is “actually innocent” of the substantive offense. Id., at 496; accord, Schlup v. Delo, 513 U. S. 298 (1995). We subsequently extended this exception to claims of capital sentencing error in Sawyer v. Whitley, 505 U. S. 333 (1992). Acknowledging that the concept of “actual innocence” did not translate neatly into the capital sentencing context, we limited the exception to cases in which the applicant could show “by clear and convincing evidence that, but for constitutional error, no reasonable juror would have found the petitioner eligible for the death penalty under the applicable state law.” Id., at 336.
We are asked in the present case to extend the actual innocence exception to procedural default of constitutional claims challenging noncapital sentencing error. We decline to answer the question in the posture of this case and instead hold that a federal court faced with allegations of actual innocence, whether of the sentence or of the crime charged, must first address all nondefaulted claims for comparable relief and other grounds for cause to excuse the procedural default.
This avoidance principle was implicit in Carrier itself, where we expressed confidence that, “for the most part, ‘victims of fundamental miscarriage of justice will meet the cause-and-prejudice standard.’ ” 477 U. S. , at 495–496 (quoting Engle v. Isaac, 456 U. S. 107, 135 (1982)). Our confidence was bolstered by the availability of ineffective assistance of counsel claims—either as a ground for cause or as a free-standing claim for relief—to safeguard against miscarriages of justice. The existence of such safeguards, we observed, “may properly inform this Court’s judgment in determining ‘[w]hat standards should govern the exercise of the habeas court’s equitable discretion’ with respect to procedurally defaulted claims.” Carrier, supra, at 496 (quoting Reed v. Ross, 468 U. S. 1, 9 (1984)).
Petitioner here conceded at oral argument that respondent has a viable and “significant” ineffective assistance of counsel claim. Tr. of Oral Arg. 18 (“[W]e agree at this point there is a very significant argument of ineffective assistance of counsel”); see also id., at 7 (agreeing “not [to] raise any procedural impediment” to consideration of the merits of respondent’s ineffective assistance claim on remand). Success on the merits would give respondent all of the relief that he seeks— i.e., resentencing. It would also provide cause to excuse the procedural default of his sufficiency of the evidence claim. Carrier, supra, at 488.
Contrary to the dissent’s view, see post, at 2 (opinion of Stevens, J.), it is precisely because the various exceptions to the procedural default doctrine are judge-made rules that courts as their stewards must exercise restraint, adding to or expanding them only when necessary. To hold otherwise would be to license district courts to riddle the cause and prejudice standard with ad hoc exceptions whenever they perceive an error to be “clear” or departure from the rules expedient. Such an approach, not the rule of restraint adopted here, would have the unhappy effect of prolonging the pendency of federal habeas applications as each new exception is tested in the courts of appeals. And because petitioner has assured us that it will not seek to reincarcerate respondent during the pendency of his ineffective assistance claim, Tr. of Oral Arg., at 52 (“[T]he state is willing to allow the ineffective assistance claim to be litigated before proceeding to reincarcerate [respondent]”), the negative consequences for respondent of our judgment to vacate and remand in this case are minimal.
While availability of other remedies alone would be sufficient justification for a general rule of avoidance, the many threshold legal questions often accompanying claims of actual innocence provide additional reason for restraint. For instance, citing Jackson v. Virginia, 443 U. S. 307 (1979), respondent here seeks to bring through the actual innocence gateway his constitutional claim that the State’s penalty-phase evidence was insufficient to support the recidivist enhancement. But the constitutional hook in Jackson was In re Winship, 397 U. S. 358 (1970), in which we held that due process requires proof of each element of a criminal offense beyond a reasonable doubt. We have not extended Winship ’s protections to proof of prior convictions used to support recidivist enhancements. Almendarez-Torres v. United States, 523 U. S. 224 (1998); see also Apprendi v. New Jersey, 530 U. S. 466, 488–490 (2000) (reserving judgment as to the validity of Almendarez-Torres ); Monge v. California, 524 U. S. 721, 734 (1998) (Double Jeopardy Clause does not preclude retrial on a prior conviction used to support recidivist enhancement). Respondent contends that Almendarez-Torres should be overruled or, in the alternative, that it does not apply because the recidivist statute at issue required the jury to find not only the existence of his prior convictions but also the additional fact that they were sequential. Brief for Respondent 30–31. These difficult constitutional questions, simply assumed away by the dissent, see post, at 2 (citing Jackson, supra, and Thompson v. Louisville, 362 U. S. 199 (1960)), are to be avoided if possible.
To be sure, not all claims of actual innocence will involve threshold constitutional issues. Even so, as this case and the briefing illustrate, such claims are likely to present equally difficult questions regarding the scope of the actual innocence exception itself. Whether and to what extent the exception extends to noncapital sentencing error is just one example. The judgment of the Court of Appeals is vacated, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
It is so ordered.

Thornton v. United States

Justice O’Connor, concurring in part.
I join all but footnote 4 of the Court’s opinion. Although the opinion is a logical extension of the holding of New York v. Belton, 453 U. S. 454 (1981), I write separately to express my dissatisfaction with the state of the law in this area. As Justice Scalia forcefully argues, post, p. 2-5 (opinion concurring in judgment), lower court decisions seem now to treat the ability to search a vehicle incident to the arrest of a recent occupant as a police entitlement rather than as an exception justified by the twin rationales of Chimel v. California, 395 U. S. 752 (1969). That erosion is a direct consequence of Belton ’s shaky foundation. While the approach Justice Scalia proposes appears to be built on firmer ground, I am reluctant to adopt it in the context of a case in which neither the Government nor the petitioner has had a chance to speak to its merit.

Nelson v. Campbell

Justice O’Connor delivered the opinion of the Court.
Three days before his scheduled execution by lethal injection, petitioner David Nelson filed a civil rights action in District Court, pursuant to 42 U. S. C. §1983, alleging that the use of a “cut-down” procedure to access his veins would violate the Eighth Amendment. Petitioner, who had already filed one unsuccessful federal habeas application, sought a stay of execution so that the District Court could consider the merits of his constitutional claim. The question before us is whether §1983 is an appropriate vehicle for petitioner’s Eighth Amendment claim seeking a temporary stay and permanent injunctive relief. We answer that question in the affirmative, reverse the contrary judgment of the Eleventh Circuit, and remand the case for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
I
Because the District Court dismissed the suit at the pleading stage, we assume the allegations in petitioner’s complaint to be true. Petitioner was found guilty by a jury in 1979 of capital murder and sentenced to death. Following two resentencings, the Eleventh Circuit, on June 3, 2002, affirmed the District Court’s denial of petitioner’s first federal habeas petition challenging the most recent death sentence. Nelson v. Alabama, 292 F. 3d 1291. Up until and at the time of that disposition, Alabama employed electrocution as its sole method of execution. On July 1, 2002, Alabama changed to lethal injection, though it still allowed inmates to opt for electrocution upon written notification within 30 days of the Alabama Supreme Court’s entry of judgment or July 1, 2002, whichever is later. Ala. Code §15–18–82.1 (Lexis Supp. 2003). Because he failed to make a timely request, petitioner waived his option to be executed by electrocution.
This Court denied petitioner’s request for certiorari review of the Eleventh Circuit’s decision on March 24, 2003. Nelson v. Alabama, 538 U. S. 926. Two weeks later, the Alabama Attorney General’s office moved the Alabama Supreme Court to set an execution date. App. 81. Petitioner responded by letter that he “ha[d] no plans to contest [the] motion,” agreeing “that an execution date should be set promptly by the court in the immediate future.” Id., at 89. Hearing no objection, the Alabama Supreme Court, on September 3, 2003, set petitioner’s execution for October 9, 2003.
Due to years of drug abuse, petitioner has severely compromised peripheral veins, which are inaccessible by standard techniques for gaining intravenous access, such as a needle. Id., at 7. In August 2003, counsel for petitioner contacted Grantt Culliver, warden of Holman Correctional Facility where the execution was to take place, to discuss how petitioner’s medical condition might impact the lethal injection procedure. Counsel specifically requested a copy of the State’s written protocol for gaining venous access prior to execution, and asked that a privately retained or prison physician consult with petitioner about the procedure. Id., at 8–9, 25–26. The warden advised counsel that the State had such a protocol, but stated that he could not provide it to her. He nevertheless assured counsel that “medical personnel” would be present during the execution and that a prison physician would evaluate and speak with petitioner upon his arrival at Holman Correctional Facility. Id., at 8, 26.
Petitioner was transferred to Holman shortly after the Alabama Supreme Court set the execution date. Warden Culliver and a prison nurse met with and examined petitioner on September 10, 2003. Id., at 9–10. Upon confirming that petitioner had compromised veins, Warden Culliver informed petitioner that prison personnel would cut a 0.5-inch incision in petitioner’s arm and catheterize a vein 24 hours before the scheduled execution. Id., at 11. At a second meeting on Friday, October 3, 2003, the warden dramatically altered the prognosis: prison personnel would now make a 2-inch incision in petitioner’s arm or leg; the procedure would take place one hour before the scheduled execution; and only local anesthesia would be used. Id., at 12. There was no assurance that a physician would perform or even be present for the procedure. Counsel immediately contacted the Alabama Department of Corrections Legal Department requesting a copy of the State’s execution protocol. Id., at 13, 27. The legal department denied counsel’s request. Id., at 28.
The following Monday, three days before his scheduled execution, petitioner filed the present §1983 action alleging that the so-called “cut-down” procedure constituted cruel and unusual punishment and deliberate indifference to his serious medical needs in violation of the Eighth Amendment. Id., at 21 (complaint), 102 (amended complaint). Petitioner sought: a permanent injunction against use of the cut-down; a temporary stay of execution to allow the District Court to consider the merits of his claim; an order requiring respondents to furnish a copy of the protocol setting forth the medical procedures to be used to gain venous access; and an order directing respondents, in consultation with medical experts, to promulgate a venous access protocol that comports with contemporary standards of medical care. Id., at 22. Appended to the complaint was an affidavit from Dr. Mark Heath, a board certified anesthesiologist and assistant professor at Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons, attesting that the cut-down is a dangerous and antiquated medical procedure to be performed only by a trained physician in a clinical environment with the patient under deep sedation. In light of safer and less-invasive contemporary means of venous access, Dr. Heath concluded that “there is no comprehensible reason for the State of Alabama to be planning to employ the cut-down procedure to obtain intravenous access, unless there exists an intent to render the procedure more painful and risky than it otherwise needs to be.” Id., at 37.
Respondents moved to dismiss the complaint for want of jurisdiction on the grounds that petitioner’s §1983 claim and accompanying stay request were the “ ‘functional equivalent’ ” of a second or successive habeas application subject to the gatekeeping provisions of 28 U. S. C. §2244(b). App. 82. The District Court agreed and, because petitioner had not obtained authorization to file a second or successive application as required by §2244(b)(3), dismissed the complaint. A divided panel of the Eleventh Circuit affirmed. Relying on Fugate v. Department of Corrections, 301 F. 3d 1287 (CA11 2002), in which the Eleventh Circuit had held that §1983 claims challenging the method of execution necessarily sound in habeas, the majority held that petitioner should have sought authorization to file a second or successive habeas application. 347 F. 3d 910, 912 (2003). The majority also concluded that, even were it to construe petitioner’s appeal as a request for such authorization, it would nevertheless deny the request because petitioner could not show that, but for the purported Eighth Amendment violation, “ ‘no reasonable factfinder would have found [him] guilty of the underlying offense.’ ” Ibid. (quoting 28 U. S. C. §2244(b)(2)(B)(ii)). Thus, the Eleventh Circuit held that petitioner was without recourse to challenge the constitutionality of the cut-down procedure in Federal District Court. We granted certiorari, 540 U. S. 1046 (2003), and now reverse.
II
A
Section 1983 authorizes a “suit in equity, or other proper proceeding for redress” against any person who, under color of state law, “subjects, or causes to be subjected, any citizen of the United States… to the deprivation of any rights, privileges, or immunities secured by the Constitution.” Petitioner’s complaint states such a claim. Despite its literal applicability, however, §1983 must yield to the more specific federal habeas statute, with its attendant procedural and exhaustion requirements, where an inmate seeks injunctive relief challenging the fact of his conviction or the duration of his sentence. See Preiser v. Rodriguez, 411 U. S. 475, 489 (1973). Such claims fall within the “core” of habeas corpus and are thus not cognizable when brought pursuant to §1983. Ibid. By contrast, constitutional claims that merely challenge the conditions of a prisoner’s confinement, whether the inmate seeks monetary or injunctive relief, fall outside of that core and may be brought pursuant to §1983 in the first instance. See Muhammad v. Close, 540 U. S. _____, _____ (2004) (per curiam) (slip op., at 1–2); Preiser, supra, at 498–499.
We have not yet had occasion to consider whether civil rights suits seeking to enjoin the use of a particular method of execution— e.g., lethal injection or electrocution—fall within the core of federal habeas corpus or, rather, whether they are properly viewed as challenges to the conditions of a condemned inmate’s death sentence. Neither the “conditions” nor the “fact or duration” label is particularly apt. A suit seeking to enjoin a particular means of effectuating a sentence of death does not directly call into question the “fact” or “validity” of the sentence itself—by simply altering its method of execution, the State can go forward with the sentence. Cf. Weaver v. Graham, 450 U. S. 24, 32–33, n. 17 (1981) (no ex post facto violation to change method of execution to more humane method). On the other hand, imposition of the death penalty presupposes a means of carrying it out. In a State such as Alabama, where the legislature has established lethal injection as the preferred method of execution, see Ala. Code §15–18–82 (Lexis Supp. 2003) (lethal injection as default method), a constitutional challenge seeking to permanently enjoin the use of lethal injection may amount to a challenge to the fact of the sentence itself. A finding of unconstitutionality would require statutory amendment or variance, imposing significant costs on the State and the administration of its penal system. And while it makes little sense to talk of the “duration” of a death sentence, a State retains a significant interest in meting out a sentence of death in a timely fashion. See Calderon v. Thompson, 523 U. S. 538, 556–557 (1998); In re Blodgett, 502 U. S. 236, 238 (1992) (per curiam); McCleskey v. Zant, 499 U. S. 467, 491 (1991) (“[T]he power of a State to pass laws means little if the State cannot enforce them”).
We need not reach here the difficult question of how to categorize method-of-execution claims generally. Respondents at oral argument conceded that §1983 would be an appropriate vehicle for an inmate who is not facing execution to bring a “deliberate indifference” challenge to the constitutionality of the cut-down procedure if used to gain venous access for purposes of providing medical treatment. Tr. of Oral Arg. 40 (“I don’t disagree… that a cut-down occurring for purposes of venous access, wholly divorced from an execution, is indeed a valid conditions of confinement claim”); see also Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S. 97, 104 (1976) (“We therefore conclude that deliberate indifference to serious medical needs of prisoners constitutes the ‘unnecessary and wanton infliction of pain’ proscribed by the Eighth Amendment” (citation omitted)). We see no reason on the face of the complaint to treat petitioner’s claim differently solely because he has been condemned to die.
Respondents counter that, because the cut-down is part of the execution procedure, petitioner’s challenge is, in fact, a challenge to the fact of his execution. They offer the following argument: A challenge to the use of lethal injection as a method of execution sounds in habeas; venous access is a necessary prerequisite to, and thus an indispensable part of, any lethal injection procedure; therefore, a challenge to the State’s means of achieving venous access must be brought in a federal habeas application. Even were we to accept as given respondents’ premise that a challenge to lethal injection sounds in habeas, the conclusion does not follow. That venous access is a necessary prerequisite does not imply that a particular means of gaining such access is likewise necessary. Indeed, the gravamen of petitioner’s entire claim is that use of the cut-down would be gratuitous. Merely labeling something as part of an execution procedure is insufficient to insulate it from a §1983 attack.
If as a legal matter the cut-down were a statutorily mandated part of the lethal injection protocol, or if as a factual matter petitioner were unable or unwilling to concede acceptable alternatives for gaining venous access, respondents might have a stronger argument that success on the merits, coupled with injunctive relief, would call into question the death sentence itself. But petitioner has been careful throughout these proceedings, in his complaint and at oral argument, to assert that the cut-down, as well as the warden’s refusal to provide reliable information regarding the cut-down protocol, are wholly unnecessary to gaining venous access. Petitioner has alleged alternatives that, if they had been used, would have allowed the State to proceed with the execution as scheduled. App. 17 (complaint) (proffering as “less invasive, less painful, faster, cheaper, and safer” the alternative procedure of “percutaneous central line placement”); id., at 37–38 (affidavit of Dr. Mark Heath) (describing relative merits of the cut-down and percutaneous central line placement). No Alabama statute requires use of the cut-down, see Ala. Code §15–18–82 (Lexis Supp. 2003) (saying only that method of execution is lethal injection), and respondents have offered no duly-promulgated regulations to the contrary.
If on remand and after an evidentiary hearing the District Court concludes that use of the cut-down procedure as described in the complaint is necessary for administering the lethal injection, the District Court will need to address the broader question, left open here, of how to treat method-of-execution claims generally. An evidentiary hearing will in all likelihood be unnecessary, however, as the State now seems willing to implement petitioner’s proposed alternatives. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 45–46 (“I think there is no disagreement here that percutaneous central line placement is the preferred method and will, in fact, be used, a cut-down to be used only if actually necessary”).
We note that our holding here is consistent with our approach to civil rights damages actions, which, like method-of-execution challenges, fall at the margins of habeas. Although damages are not an available habeas remedy, we have previously concluded that a §1983 suit for damages that would “necessarily imply” the invalidity of the fact of an inmate’s conviction, or “necessarily imply” the invalidity of the length of an inmate’s sentence, is not cognizable under §1983 unless and until the inmate obtains favorable termination of a state, or federal habeas, challenge to his conviction or sentence. Heck v. Humphrey, 512 U. S. 477, 487 (1994); Edwards v. Balisok, 520 U. S. 641, 648 (1997). This “favorable termination” requirement is necessary to prevent inmates from doing indirectly through damages actions what they could not do directly by seeking injunctive relief—challenge the fact or duration of their confinement without complying with the procedural limitations of the federal habeas statute. Muhammad, 540 U. S., at _____ (slip op., at 2). Even so, we were careful in Heck to stress the importance of the term “necessarily.” For instance, we acknowledged that an inmate could bring a challenge to the lawfulness of a search pursuant to §1983 in the first instance, even if the search revealed evidence used to convict the inmate at trial, because success on the merits would not “ necessarily imply that the plaintiff’s conviction was unlawful.” 512 U. S., at 487, n. 7 (noting doctrines such as inevitable discovery, independent source, and harmless error). To hold otherwise would have cut off potentially valid damages actions as to which a plaintiff might never obtain favorable termination—suits that could otherwise have gone forward had the plaintiff not been convicted. In the present context, focusing attention on whether petitioner’s challenge to the cut-down procedure would necessarily prevent Alabama from carrying out its execution both protects against the use of §1983 to circumvent any limits imposed by the habeas statute and minimizes the extent to which the fact of a prisoner’s imminent execution will require differential treatment of his otherwise cognizable §1983 claims.
B
There remains the question whether petitioner’s request for a temporary stay of execution, subsequently recharacterized by petitioner as a request for a preliminary injunction, App. 49, transformed his conditions of confinement claim into a challenge to the validity of his death sentence. Normally, it would not. If a request for a permanent injunction does not sound in habeas, it follows that the lesser-included request for a temporary stay (or preliminary injunction) does not either.
There is a complication in the present case, however. In his prayer for relief, petitioner asked the District Court, among other things, to “[e]nter an order granting injunctive relief and staying [petitioner’s] execution, which is currently scheduled for October 9, 2003.” Id., at 22. Though he did not specify what permanent injunctive relief he was seeking, a fair reading of the complaint leaves no doubt that petitioner was asking only to enjoin the State’s use of the cut-down, not his execution by lethal injection. The same cannot be said of petitioner’s stay request. There, he explicitly requested that the District Court stay his execution, seemingly without regard to whether the State did or did not resort to the cut-down. This observation is potentially significant given the fact that the State has maintained, from the outset of this litigation, that it would attempt other methods of venous access prior to engaging in the cut-down. See id., at 51–52; id., at 93–94 (affidavit of Warden Culliver). By asking for broader relief than necessary, petitioner undermines his assertions that: (1) his §1983 suit is not a tactic for delay, and (2) he is not challenging the fact of his execution, but merely a dispensable preliminary procedure.
Whatever problem this failing might have caused before this Court entered a stay, the execution warrant has now expired. If the State reschedules the execution while this case is pending on remand and petitioner seeks another similarly broad stay, the District Court will need to address the question whether a request to enjoin the execution, rather than merely to enjoin an allegedly unnecessary precursor medical procedure, properly sounds in habeas. See also 18 U. S. C. §3626(a)(2) (“Preliminary injunctive relief [in prison conditions cases] must be narrowly drawn, extend no further than necessary to correct the harm the court finds requires preliminary relief, and be the least intrusive means necessary to correct that harm”).
C
Respondents argue that a decision to reverse the judgment of the Eleventh Circuit would open the floodgates to all manner of method-of-execution challenges, as well as last minute stay requests. But, because we do not here resolve the question of how to treat method-of-execution claims generally, our holding is extremely limited.
Moreover, as our previous decision in Gomez v. United States Dist. Court for Northern Dist. of Cal., 503 U. S. 653 (1992) (per curiam), makes clear, the mere fact that an inmate states a cognizable §1983 claim does not warrant the entry of a stay as a matter of right. Gomez came to us on a motion by the State to vacate a stay entered by an en banc panel of the Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit that would have allowed the District Court time to consider the merits of a condemned inmate’s last-minute §1983 action challenging the constitutionality of California’s use of the gas chamber. We left open the question whether the inmate’s claim was cognizable under §1983, but vacated the stay nonetheless. The inmate, Robert Alton Harris, who had already filed four unsuccessful federal habeas applications, waited until the 11th hour to file his challenge despite the fact that California’s method of execution had been in place for years: “This claim could have been brought more than a decade ago. There is no good reason for this abusive delay, which has been compounded by last-minute attempts to manipulate the judicial process. A court may consider the last-minute nature of an application to stay execution in deciding whether to grant equitable relief.” Id., at 654.
A stay is an equitable remedy, and “[e]quity must take into consideration the State’s strong interest in proceeding with its judgment and… attempt[s] at manipulation.” Ibid. Thus, before granting a stay, a district court must consider not only the likelihood of success on the merits and the relative harms to the parties, but also the extent to which the inmate has delayed unnecessarily in bringing the claim. Given the State’s significant interest in enforcing its criminal judgments, see Blodgett, 502 U. S., at 239; McCleskey, 499 U. S., at 491, there is a strong equitable presumption against the grant of a stay where a claim could have been brought at such a time as to allow consideration of the merits without requiring entry of a stay.
Finally, the ability to bring a §1983 claim, rather than a habeas application, does not entirely free inmates from substantive or procedural limitations. The Prison Litigation Reform Act of 1995 (Act) imposes limits on the scope and duration of preliminary and permanent injunctive relief, including a requirement that, before issuing such relief, “[a] court shall give substantial weight to any adverse impact on … the operation of a criminal justice system caused by the relief.” 18 U. S. C. §3626(a)(1); accord, §3626(a)(2). It requires that inmates exhaust available state administrative remedies before bringing a §1983 action challenging the conditions of their confinement. 110 Stat. 1321–71, 42 U. S. C. §1997e(a) (“No action shall be brought with respect to prison conditions under section 1983 of this title, or any other Federal law, by a prisoner confined in any jail, prison, or other correctional facility until such administrative remedies as are available are exhausted”). The Act mandates that a district court “shall,” on its own motion, dismiss “any action brought with respect to prison conditions under section 1983 of this title … if the court is satisfied that the action is frivolous, malicious, fails to state a claim upon which relief can be granted, or seeks monetary relief from a defendant who is immune from relief.” §1997e(c)(1). Indeed, if the claim is frivolous on its face, a district court may dismiss the suit before the plaintiff has exhausted his state remedies. §1997e(c)(2).
For the reasons stated herein, the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
It is so ordered.

Yarborough v. Alvarado

Justice O’Connor, concurring.
I join the opinion of the Court, but write separately to express an additional reason for reversal. There may be cases in which a suspect’s age will be relevant to the Miranda “custody” inquiry. In this case, however, Alvarado was almost 18 years old at the time of his interview. It is difficult to expect police to recognize that a suspect is a juvenile when he is so close to the age of majority. Even when police do know a suspect’s age, it may be difficult for them to ascertain what bearing it has on the likelihood that the suspect would feel free to leave. That is especially true here; 17½-year-olds vary widely in their reactions to police questioning, and many can be expected to behave as adults. Given these difficulties, I agree that the state court’s decision in this case cannot be called an unreasonable application of federal law simply because it failed explicitly to mention Alvarado’s age.

Elk Grove Unified School Dist. v. Newdow

Justice O’Connor, concurring in the judgment.
I join the concurrence of The Chief Justice in full. Like him, I would follow our policy of deferring to the Federal Courts of Appeals in matters that involve the interpretation of state law, see Bowen v. Massachusetts, 487 U. S. 879 (1988), and thereby conclude that the respondent does have standing to bring his constitutional claim before a federal court. Like The Chief Justice, I believe that we must examine those questions, and, like him, I believe that petitioner school district’s policy of having its teachers lead students in voluntary recitations of the Pledge of Allegiance does not offend the Establishment Clause. But while the history presented by The Chief Justice illuminates the constitutional problems this case presents, I write separately to explain the principles that guide my own analysis of the constitutionality of that policy.
As I have said before, the Establishment Clause “cannot easily be reduced to a single test. There are different categories of Establishment Clause cases, which may call for different approaches.” Board of Ed. of Kiryas Joel Village School Dist. v. Grumet, 512 U. S. 687, 720 (1994) (O’Connor, J., concurring). When a court confronts a challenge to government-sponsored speech or displays, I continue to believe that the endorsement test “captures the essential command of the Establishment Clause, namely, that government must not make a person’s religious beliefs relevant to his or her standing in the political community by conveying a message ‘that religion or a particular religious belief is favored or preferred.’ ” County of Allegheny v. American Civil Liberties Union, Greater Pittsburgh Chapter, 492 U. S. 573, 627 (1989) (opinion of O’Connor, J.) (quoting Wallace v. Jaffree, 472 U. S. 38, 70 (1985) (O’Connor, J., concurring in judgment)). In that context, I repeatedly have applied the endorsement test, Capitol Square Review and Advisory Bd. v. Pinette, 515 U. S. 753, 772–773 (1995) (opinion of O’Connor, J.) (display of a cross in a plaza next to state capitol); Allegheny, supra, at 625 (display of crèche in county courthouse and menorah outside city and county buildings); Wallace, supra, at 69 (statute authorizing a meditative moment of silence in classrooms); Lynch v. Donnelly, 465 U. S. 668, 688 (1984) (O’Connor, J., concurring) (inclusion of Nativity scene in city government’s Christmas display), and I would do so again here.
Endorsement, I have explained, “sends a message to nonadherents that they are outsiders, not full members of the political community, and an accompanying message to adherents that they are insiders, favored members of the political community.” Ibid. In order to decide whether endorsement has occurred, a reviewing court must keep in mind two crucial and related principles.
First, because the endorsement test seeks “to identify those situations in which government makes adherence to a religion relevant … to a person’s standing in the political community,” it assumes the viewpoint of a reasonable observer. Pinette, supra, at 772 (internal quotation marks omitted). Given the dizzying religious heterogeneity of our Nation, adopting a subjective approach would reduce the test to an absurdity. Nearly any government action could be overturned as a violation of the Establishment Clause if a “heckler’s veto” sufficed to show that its message was one of endorsement. See Pinette, 515 U. S. at 780 (“There is always someone who, with a particular quantum of knowledge, reasonably might perceive a particular action as an endorsement of religion”). Second, because the “reasonable observer” must embody a community ideal of social judgment, as well as rational judgment, the test does not evaluate a practice in isolation from its origins and context. Instead, the reasonable observer must be deemed aware of the history of the conduct in question, and must understand its place in our Nation’s cultural landscape. See id., at 781.
The Court has permitted government, in some instances, to refer to or commemorate religion in public life. See , e.g., Pinette, supra ; Allegheny, supra ; Lynch, supra ; Marsh v. Chambers, 463 U. S. 783 (1983) . While the Court’s explicit rationales have varied, my own has been consistent; I believe that although these references speak in the language of religious belief, they are more properly understood as employing the idiom for essentially secular purposes. One such purpose is to commemorate the role of religion in our history. In my view, some references to religion in public life and government are the inevitable consequence of our Nation’s origins. Just as the Court has refused to ignore changes in the religious composition of our Nation in explaining the modern scope of the Religion Clauses, see , e.g., Wallace, supra, at 52–54 (even if the Religion Clauses were originally meant only to forestall intolerance between Christian sects, they now encompass all forms of religious conscience), it should not deny that our history has left its mark on our national traditions. It is unsurprising that a Nation founded by religious refugees and dedicated to religious freedom should find references to divinity in its symbols, songs, mottoes, and oaths.* Eradicating such references would sever ties to a history that sustains this Nation even today. See Allegheny, supra, at 623 (declining to draw lines that would “sweep away all government recognition and acknowledgment of the role of religion in the lives of our citizens”).
Facially religious references can serve other valuable purposes in public life as well. Twenty years ago, I wrote that such references “serve, in the only ways reasonably possible in our culture, the legitimate secular purposes of solemnizing public occasions, expressing confidence in the future, and encouraging the recognition of what is worthy of appreciation in society.” Lynch, supra, at 692–693 (O’Connor, J., concurring). For centuries, we have marked important occasions or pronouncements with references to God and invocations of divine assistance. Such references can serve to solemnize an occasion instead of to invoke divine provenance. The reasonable observer discussed above, fully aware of our national history and the origins of such practices, would not perceive these acknowledgments as signifying a government endorsement of any specific religion, or even of religion over non-religion.
There are no de minimis violations of the Constitution— no constitutional harms so slight that the courts are obliged to ignore them. Given the values that the Establishment Clause was meant to serve, however, I believe that government can, in a discrete category of cases, acknowledge or refer to the divine without offending the Constitution. This category of “ceremonial deism” most clearly encompasses such things as the national motto (“In God We Trust”), religious references in traditional patriotic songs such as the Star-Spangled Banner, and the words with which the Marshal of this Court opens each of its sessions (“God save the United States and this honorable Court”). See Allegheny, 492 U. S., at 630 (opinion of O’Connor, J.). These references are not minor trespasses upon the Establishment Clause to which I turn a blind eye. Instead, their history, character, and context prevent them from being constitutional violations at all.
This case requires us to determine whether the appearance of the phrase “under God” in the Pledge of Allegiance constitutes an instance of such ceremonial deism. Although it is a close question, I conclude that it does, based on my evaluation of the following four factors.
History and UbiquityThe constitutional value of ceremonial deism turns on a shared understanding of its legitimate nonreligious purposes. That sort of understanding can exist only when a given practice has been in place for a significant portion of the Nation’s history, and when it is observed by enough persons that it can fairly be called ubiquitous. SeeLynch, 465 U. S., at 693. By contrast, novel or uncommon references to religion can more easily be perceived as government endorsements because the reasonable observer cannot be presumed to be fully familiar with their origins. As a result, in examining whether a given practice constitutes an instance of ceremonial deism, its “history and ubiquity” will be of great importance. As I explained inAllegheny,supra, at 630–631:
“Under the endorsement test, the ‘history and ubiquity’ of a practice is relevant not because it creates an ‘artificial exception’ from that test. On the contrary, the ‘history and ubiquity’ of a practice is relevant because it provides part of the context in which a reasonable observer evaluates whether a challenged governmental practice conveys a message of endorsement of religion.”
Fifty years have passed since the words “under God” were added, a span of time that is not inconsiderable given the relative youth of our Nation. In that time, the Pledge has become, alongside the singing of the Star-Spangled Banner, our most routine ceremonial act of patriotism; countless schoolchildren recite it daily, and their religious heterogeneity reflects that of the Nation as a whole. As a result, the Pledge and the context in which it is employed are familiar and nearly inseparable in the public mind. No reasonable observer could have been surprised to learn the words of the Pledge, or that petitioner school district has a policy of leading its students in daily recitation of the Pledge.
It cannot be doubted that “no one acquires a vested or protected right in violation of the Constitution by long use, even when that span of time covers our entire national existence and indeed predates it. Yet an unbroken practice… is not something to be lightly cast aside.” Walz v. Tax Comm’n of City of New York, 397 U. S. 664, 678 (1970). And the history of a given practice is all the more relevant when the practice has been employed pervasively without engendering significant controversy. In Lynch, where we evaluated the constitutionality of a town Christmas display that included a crèche, we found relevant to the endorsement question the fact that the display had “apparently caused no political divisiveness prior to the filing of this lawsuit” despite its use for over 40 years. See 465 U. S., at 692–693. Similarly, in the 50 years that the Pledge has been recited as it is now, by millions of children, this was, at the time of its filing, only the third reported case of which I am aware to challenge it as an impermissible establishment of religion. See Sherman v. Community Consol. School Dist. 21, 980 F. 2d 437 (CA7 1992); Smith v. Denny, 280 F. Supp. 651 (ED Cal. 1968). The citizens of this Nation have been neither timid nor unimaginative in challenging government practices as forbidden “establishments” of religion. See, e.g., Altman v. Bedford Central School Dist., 245 F. 3d 49 (CA2 2001) (challenging, among other things, reading of a story of the Hindu deity Ganesha in a fourth-grade classroom); Alvarado v. San Jose, 94 F. 3d 1223 (CA9 1996) (challenge to use of a sculpture of the Aztec deity Quetzalcoatl to commemorate Mexican contributions to city culture); Peloza v. Capistrano Unified School Dist., 37 F. 3d 517 (CA9 1994) (high school biology teacher’s challenge to requirement that he teach the concept of evolution); Fleischfresser v. Directors of School Dist. 200, 15 F. 3d 680 (CA7 1994) (challenge to school supplemental reading program that included works of fantasy involving witches, goblins, and Halloween); United States v. Allen, 760 F. 2d 447, 449 (CA2 1985) (challenge to conviction for vandalism of B–52 bomber, based on theory that property-protection statute established a “ ‘national religion of nuclearism … in which the bomb is the new source of salvation’ ”); Grove v. Mead School Dist. No. 354, 753 F. 2d 1528 (CA9 1985) (challenge to use of The Learning Tree, by Gordon Parks, in high school English literature class); Crowley v. Smithsonian Inst., 636 F. 2d 738 (CADC 1980) (challenge to museum display that explained the concept of evolution). Given the vigor and creativity of such challenges, I find it telling that so little ire has been directed at the Pledge.
Absence of worship or prayer“[O]ne of the greatest dangers to the freedom of the individual to worship in his own way [lies] in the Government’s placing its official stamp of approval upon one particular kind of prayer or one particular form of religious services.”Engelv.Vitale,370 U. S. 421, 429 (1962). Because of this principle, only in the most extraordinary circumstances could actual worship or prayer be defended as ceremonial deism. We have upheld only one such prayer against Establishment Clause challenge, and it was supported by an extremely long and unambiguous history. SeeMarshv.Chambers,463 U. S. 783(1983) (upholding Nebraska Legislature’s 200-year-old practice of opening its sessions with a prayer offered by a chaplain). Any statement that has as its purpose placing the speaker or listener in a penitent state of mind, or that is intended to create a spiritual communion or invoke divine aid, strays from the legitimate secular purposes of solemnizing an event and recognizing a shared religious history.Santa Fe Independent School Dist.v.Doe,530 U. S. 290, 309 (2000) (“[T]he use of an invocation to foster … solemnity is impermissible when, in actuality, it constitutes [state-sponsored] prayer”).
Of course, any statement can be imbued by a speaker or listener with the qualities of prayer. But, as I have explained, the relevant viewpoint is that of a reasonable observer, fully cognizant of the history, ubiquity, and context of the practice in question. Such an observer could not conclude that reciting the Pledge, including the phrase “under God,” constitutes an instance of worship. I know of no religion that incorporates the Pledge into its canon, nor one that would count the Pledge as a meaningful expression of religious faith. Even if taken literally, the phrase is merely descriptive; it purports only to identify the United States as a Nation subject to divine authority. That cannot be seen as a serious invocation of God or as an expression of individual submission to divine authority. Cf. Engel, supra, at 424 (describing prayer as “a solemn avowal of faith and supplication for the blessing of the Almighty”). A reasonable observer would note that petitioner school district’s policy of Pledge recitation appears under the heading of “Patriotic Observances,” and the California law which it implements refers to “appropriate patriotic exercises.” Cal. Educ. Code §52720. Petitioner school district also employs teachers, not chaplains or religious instructors, to lead its students’ exercise; this serves as a further indication that it does not treat the Pledge as a prayer. Cf. Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577, 594 (1992) (reasoning that a graduation benediction could not be construed as a de minimis religious exercise without offending the rabbi who offered it).
It is true that some of the legislators who voted to add the phrase “under God” to the Pledge may have done so in an attempt to attach to it an overtly religious message. See H. R. Rep. No. 1693, 83d Cong., 2d Sess., pp. 2-3. But their intentions cannot, on their own, decide our inquiry. First of all, those legislators also had permissible secular objectives in mind—they meant, for example, to acknowledge the religious origins of our Nation’s belief in the “individuality and the dignity of the human being.” Id., at 1. Second—and more critically—the subsequent social and cultural history of the Pledge shows that its original secular character was not transformed by its amendment. In School Dist. of Abington Township v. Schempp, 374 U. S. 203 (1963), we explained that a government may initiate a practice “for the impermissible purpose of supporting religion” but nevertheless “retai[n] the la[w] for the permissible purpose of furthering overwhelmingly secular ends.” Id., at 263–264 (citing McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420 (1961)). Whatever the sectarian ends its authors may have had in mind, our continued repetition of the reference to “one Nation under God” in an exclusively patriotic context has shaped the cultural significance of that phrase to conform to that context. Any religious freight the words may have been meant to carry originally has long since been lost. See Lynch, 465 U. S., at 716 (Brennan, J., dissenting) (suggesting that the reference to God in the Pledge might be permissible because it has “lost through rote repetition any significant religious content”).
Absence of reference to particular religion“The clearest command of the Establishment Clause is that one religious denomination cannot be officially preferred over another.”Larsonv.Valente,456 U. S. 228, 244 (1982). While general acknowledgments of religion need not be viewed by reasonable observers as denigrating the nonreligious, the same cannot be said of instances “where the endorsement is sectarian, in the sense of specifying details upon which men and women who believe in a benevolent, omnipotent Creator and Ruler of the world are known to differ.”Weisman,supra,at 641 (Scalia, J., dissenting). As a result, no religious acknowledgment could claim to be an instance of ceremonial deism if it explicitly favored one particular religious belief system over another.
The Pledge complies with this requirement. It does not refer to a nation “under Jesus” or “under Vishnu,” but instead acknowledges religion in a general way: a simple reference to a generic “God.” Of course, some religions— Buddhism, for instance—are not based upon a belief in a separate Supreme Being. See Brief for Buddhist Temples, Centers, and Organizations as Amicus Curiae at 15–16. But one would be hard pressed to imagine a brief solemnizing reference to religion that would adequately encompass every religious belief expressed by any citizen of this Nation. The phrase “under God,” conceived and added at a time when our national religious diversity was neither as robust nor as well recognized as it is now, represents a tolerable attempt to acknowledge religion and to invoke its solemnizing power without favoring any individual religious sect or belief system.
Minimal religious contentA final factor that makes the Pledge an instance of ceremonial deism, in my view, is its highly circumscribed reference to God. In most of the cases in which we have struck down government speech or displays under the Establishment Clause, the offending religious content has been much more pervasive. See,e.g.,Weisman,supra, at 581–582 (prayers involving repeated thanks to God and requests for blessings). Of course, a ceremony cannot avoid Establishment Clause scrutiny simply by avoiding an explicit mention of God. SeeWallacev.Jaffree,472 U. S. 38(1985) (invalidating Alabama statute providing moment of silence for meditation or voluntary prayer). But the brevity of a reference to religion or to God in a ceremonial exercise can be important for several reasons. First, it tends to confirm that the reference is being used to acknowledge religion or to solemnize an event rather than to endorse religion in any way. Second, it makes it easier for those participants who wish to “opt out” of language they find offensive to do so without having to reject the ceremony entirely. And third, it tends to limit the ability of government to express a preference for one religious sect over another.
The reference to “God” in the Pledge of Allegiance qualifies as a minimal reference to religion; respondent’s challenge focuses on only two of the Pledge’s 31 words. Moreover, the presence of those words is not absolutely essential to the Pledge, as demonstrated by the fact that it existed without them for over 50 years. As a result, students who wish to avoid saying the words “under God” still can consider themselves meaningful participants in the exercise if they join in reciting the remainder of the Pledge.
I have framed my inquiry as a specific application of the endorsement test by examining whether the ceremony or representation would convey a message to a reasonable observer, familiar with its history, origins, and context, that those who do not adhere to its literal message are political outsiders. But consideration of these factors would lead me to the same result even if I were to apply the “coercion” test that has featured in several opinions of this Court. Santa Fe Independent School Dist. v. Doe, 530 U. S. 290 (2000); Lee v. Weisman, 505 U. S. 577 (1992).
The coercion test provides that, “at a minimum … government may not coerce anyone to support or participate in religion or its exercise, or otherwise act in a way which ‘establishes a [state] religion or religious faith, or tends to do so.’ ” Id., at 586 (quoting Lynch, supra, at 678). Any coercion that persuades an onlooker to participate in an act of ceremonial deism is inconsequential, as an Establishment Clause matter, because such acts are simply not religious in character. As a result, symbolic references to religion that qualify as instances of ceremonial deism will pass the coercion test as well as the endorsement test. This is not to say, however, that government could overtly coerce a person to participate in an act of ceremonial deism. Our cardinal freedom is one of belief; leaders in this Nation cannot force us to proclaim our allegiance to any creed, whether it be religious, philosophic, or political. That principle found eloquent expression in a case involving the Pledge itself, even before it contained the words to which respondent now objects. See West Virginia Bd. of Ed. v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 642 (1943) (Jackson, J.). The compulsion of which Justice Jackson was concerned, however, was of the direct sort—the Constitution does not guarantee citizens a right entirely to avoid ideas with which they disagree. It would betray its own principles if it did; no robust democracy insulates its citizens from views that they might find novel or even inflammatory.
* * *
Michael Newdow’s challenge to petitioner school district’s policy is a well-intentioned one, but his distaste for the reference to “one Nation under God,” however sincere, cannot be the yardstick of our Establishment Clause inquiry. Certain ceremonial references to God and religion in our Nation are the inevitable consequence of the religious history that gave birth to our founding principles of liberty. It would be ironic indeed if this Court were to wield our constitutional commitment to religious freedom so as to sever our ties to the traditions developed to honor it.

Notes
* Note, for example, the following state mottoes: Arizona (“God Enriches”); Colorado (“Nothing without Providence”); Connecticut (“He Who Transplanted Still Sustains”); Florida (“In God We Trust”); Ohio (“With God, All Things Are Possible”); and South Dakota (“Under God the People Rule”). Arizona, Colorado, and Florida have placed their mottoes on their state seals, and the mottoes of Connecticut and South Dakota appear on the flags of those States as well. Georgia’s newly-redesigned flag includes the motto “In God We Trust.” The oaths of judicial office, citizenship, and military and civil service all end with the (optional) phrase “[S]o help me God.” See 28 U. S. C. §453; 5 U. S. C. §3331; 10 U. S. C. §502; 8 CF R §337.1. Many of our patriotic songs contain overt or implicit references to the divine, among them: “America” (“Protect us by thy might, great God our King”); “America the Beautiful” (“God shed his grace on thee”); and “God bless America.”

Pliler v. Ford

Justice O’Connor, concurring.
I join the Court’s opinion because it is limited to the narrow question whether the notifications crafted by the Ninth Circuit must be given.
The propriety of the stay-and-abeyance procedure generally is not addressed. The District Court did not employ that procedure, nor did the Ninth Circuit hold that it must be applied in every case. There is, therefore, no need for us to pass on it in this case, and the Court properly avoids doing so. I note, however, that the procedure is not an idiosyncratic one; as Justice Breyer describes, post, at 3 (dissenting opinion), seven of the eight Circuits to consider it have approved stay-and-abeyance as an appropriate exercise of a district court’s equitable powers.
For the reasons given by the majority, ante, at 6–7, it is not incumbent upon a district court to establish whether the statute of limitations has already run before explaining the options available to a habeas petitioner who has filed a mixed petition. Nevertheless, if the petitioner is affirmatively misled, either by the court or by the State, equitable tolling might well be appropriate. This is a question for the Ninth Circuit to consider on remand. See ante, at 8.

Tennard v. Dretke

Justice O’CONNOR delivered the opinion of the Court.

In Penry v. Lynaugh, 492 U.S. 302 (1989) (Penry I), we held that the Texas capital sentencing scheme provided a constitutionally inadequate vehicle for jurors to consider and give effect to the mitigating evidence of mental retardation and childhood abuse the petitioner had presented. The petitioner in this case argues that the same scheme was inadequate for jurors to give effect to his evidence of low intelligence. The Texas courts rejected his claim, and a Federal District Court denied his petition for a writ of habeas corpus. We conclude that ‘reasonable jurists would find the district court’s assessment of the constitutional claims debatable or wrong,’ Slack v. McDaniel, 529 U.S. 473, 484 (2000), and therefore hold that a certificate of appealability should have issued.

I

Petitioner Robert Tennard was convicted by a jury of capital murder in October 1986. The evidence presented at trial indicated that Tennard and two accomplices killed two of his neighbors and robbed their house. Tennard himself stabbed one of the victims to death, and one of the accomplices killed the other victim with a hatchet.

During the penalty phase of the trial, defense counsel called only one witness’Tennard’s parole officer’who testified that Tennard’s Department of Corrections record from a prior incarceration indicated that he had an IQ of 67. App. 28’29. He testified that the IQ test would have been administered as a matter of course. Ibid.

Blakely v. Washington

Justice O’Connor, with whom Justice Breyer joins, and with whom The Chief Justice and Justice Kennedy join as to all but Part IV–B, dissenting.
The legacy of today’s opinion, whether intended or not, will be the consolidation of sentencing power in the State and Federal Judiciaries. The Court says to Congress and state legislatures: If you want to constrain the sentencing discretion of judges and bring some uniformity to sentencing, it will cost you—dearly. Congress and States, faced with the burdens imposed by the extension of Apprendi to the present context, will either trim or eliminate altogether their sentencing guidelines schemes and, with them, 20 years of sentencing reform. It is thus of little moment that the majority does not expressly declare guidelines schemes unconstitutional, ante, at 12; for, as residents of “ Apprendi -land” are fond of saying, “the relevant inquiry is one not of form, but of effect.” Apprendi v. New Jersey, 530 U. S. 466, 494 (2000); Ring v. Arizona, 536 U. S. 584, 613 (2002) (Scalia, J., concurring). The “effect” of today’s decision will be greater judicial discretion and less uniformity in sentencing. Because I find it implausible that the Framers would have considered such a result to be required by the Due Process Clause or the Sixth Amendment, and because the practical consequences of today’s decision may be disastrous, I respectfully dissent.

I
One need look no further than the history leading up to and following the enactment of Washington’s guidelines scheme to appreciate the damage that today’s decision will cause. Prior to 1981, Washington, like most other States and the Federal Government, employed an indeterminate sentencing scheme. Washington’s criminal code separated all felonies into three broad categories: “class A,” carrying a sentence of 20 years to life; “class B,” carrying a sentence of 0 to 10 years; and “class C,” carrying a sentence of 0 to 5 years. Wash. Rev. Code Ann. §9A.20.020 (2000); see also Sentencing Reform Act of 1981, 1981 Wash. Laws, ch. 137, p. 534. Sentencing judges, in conjunction with parole boards, had virtually unfettered discretion to sentence defendants to prison terms falling anywhere within the statutory range, including probation— i.e., no jail sentence at all. Wash. Rev. Code Ann. §§9.95.010–.011; Boerner & Lieb, Sentencing Reform in the Other Washington, 28 Crime and Justice 71, 73 (M. Tonry ed. 2001) (hereinafter Boerner & Lieb) (“Judges were authorized to choose between prison and probation with few exceptions, subject only to review for abuse of discretion”). See also D. Boerner, Sentencing in Washington §2.4, pp. 2–27 to 2–28 (1985).

This system of unguided discretion inevitably resulted in severe disparities in sentences received and served by defendants committing the same offense and having similar criminal histories. Boerner & Lieb 126–127; cf. S. Rep. No. 98–225, p. 38 (1983) (Senate Report on precursor to federal Sentencing Reform Act of 1984) (“[E]very day Federal judges mete out an unjustifiably wide range of sentences to offenders with similar histories, convicted of similar crimes, committed under similar circumstances. … These disparities, whether they occur at the time of the initial sentencing or at the parole stage, can be traced directly to the unfettered discretion the law confers on those judges and parole authorities responsible for imposing and implementing the sentence”). Indeed, rather than reflect legally relevant criteria, these disparities too often were correlated with constitutionally suspect variables such as race. Boerner & Lieb 126–128. See also Breyer, The Federal Sentencing Guidelines and Key Compromises Upon Which They Rest, 17 Hofstra L. Rev. 1, 5 (1988) (elimination of racial disparity one reason behind Congress’ creation of the Federal Sentencing Commission).

To counteract these trends, the state legislature passed the Sentencing Reform Act of 1981. The Act had the laudable purposes of “mak[ing] the criminal justice system accountable to the public,” and “[e]nsur[ing] that the punishment for a criminal offense is proportionate to the seriousness of the offense … [and] commensurate with the punishment imposed on others committing similar offenses.” Wash. Rev. Code Ann. §9.94A.010 (2000). The Act neither increased any of the statutory sentencing ranges for the three types of felonies (though it did eliminate the statutory mandatory minimum for class A felonies), nor reclassified any substantive offenses. 1981 Wash. Laws ch. 137, p. 534. It merely placed meaningful constraints on discretion to sentence offenders within the statutory ranges, and eliminated parole. There is thus no evidence that the legislature was attempting to manipulate the statutory elements of criminal offenses or to circumvent the procedural protections of the Bill of Rights. Rather, lawmakers were trying to bring some much-needed uniformity, transparency, and accountability to an otherwise “ ‘labyrinthine’ sentencing and corrections system that ‘lack[ed] any principle except unguided discretion.’ ” Boerner & Lieb 73 (quoting F. Zimring, Making the Punishment Fit the Crime: A Consumers’ Guide to Sentencing Reform, Occasional Paper No. 12, p. 6 (1977)).

II
Far from disregarding principles of due process and the jury trial right, as the majority today suggests, Washington’s reform has served them. Before passage of the Act, a defendant charged with second degree kidnaping, like petitioner, had no idea whether he would receive a 10-year sentence or probation. The ultimate sentencing determination could turn as much on the idiosyncracies of a particular judge as on the specifics of the defendant’s crime or background. A defendant did not know what facts, if any, about his offense or his history would be considered relevant by the sentencing judge or by the parole board. After passage of the Act, a defendant charged with second degree kidnaping knows what his presumptive sentence will be; he has a good idea of the types of factors that a sentencing judge can and will consider when deciding whether to sentence him outside that range; he is guaranteed meaningful appellate review to protect against an arbitrary sentence. Boerner & Lieb 93 (“By consulting one sheet, practitioners could identify the applicable scoring rules for criminal history, the sentencing range, and the available sentencing options for each case”). Criminal defendants still face the same statutory maximum sentences, but they now at least know, much more than before, the real consequences of their actions.

Washington’s move to a system of guided discretion has served equal protection principles as well. Over the past 20 years, there has been a substantial reduction in racial disparity in sentencing across the State. Id., at 126 (Racial disparities that do exist “are accounted for by differences in legally relevant variables—the offense of conviction and prior criminal record”); id., at 127 (“[J]udicial authority to impose exceptional sentences under the court’s departure authority shows little evidence of disparity correlated with race”). The reduction is directly traceable to the constraining effects of the guidelines—namely, its “presumptive range[s]” and limits on the imposition of “exceptional sentences” outside of those ranges. Id., at 128. For instance, sentencing judges still retain unreviewable discretion in first-time offender cases and in certain sex offender cases to impose alternative sentences that are far more lenient than those contemplated by the guidelines. To the extent that unjustifiable racial disparities have persisted in Washington, it has been in the imposition of such alternative sentences: “The lesson is powerful: racial disparity is correlated with unstructured and unreviewed discretion.” Ibid.; see also Washington State Minority and Justice Commission, R. Crutchfield, J. Weis, R. Engen, & R. Gainey, Racial/Ethnic Disparities and Exceptional Sentences in Washington State, Final Report 51–53 (1993) (“[E]xceptional sentences are not a major source of racial disparities in sentencing”).

The majority does not, because it cannot, disagree that determinate sentencing schemes, like Washington’s, serve important constitutional values. Ante, at 12. Thus, the majority says: “[t]his case is not about whether determinate sentencing is constitutional, only about how it can be implemented in a way that respects the Sixth Amendment.” Ibid. But extension of Apprendi to the present context will impose significant costs on a legislature’s determination that a particular fact, not historically an element, warrants a higher sentence. While not a constitutional prohibition on guidelines schemes, the majority’s decision today exacts a substantial constitutional tax.

The costs are substantial and real. Under the majority’s approach, any fact that increases the upper bound on a judge’s sentencing discretion is an element of the offense. Thus, facts that historically have been taken into account by sentencing judges to assess a sentence within a broad range—such as drug quantity, role in the offense, risk of bodily harm—all must now be charged in an indictment and submitted to a jury, In re Winship, 397 U. S. 358 (1970), simply because it is the legislature, rather than the judge, that constrains the extent to which such facts may be used to impose a sentence within a pre-existing statutory range.

While that alone is enough to threaten the continued use of sentencing guidelines schemes, there are additional costs. For example, a legislature might rightly think that some factors bearing on sentencing, such as prior bad acts or criminal history, should not be considered in a jury’s determination of a defendant’s guilt—such “character evidence” has traditionally been off limits during the guilt phase of criminal proceedings because of its tendency to inflame the passions of the jury. See, e.g., Fed. Rule Evid. 404; 1 E. Imwinkelried, P. Giannelli, F. Gilligan, & F. Leaderer, Courtroom Criminal Evidence 285 (3d ed. 1998). If a legislature desires uniform consideration of such factors at sentencing, but does not want them to impact a jury’s initial determination of guilt, the State may have to bear the additional expense of a separate, full-blown jury trial during the penalty phase proceeding.

Some facts that bear on sentencing either will not be discovered, or are not discoverable, prior to trial. For instance, a legislature might desire that defendants who act in an obstructive manner during trial or post-trial proceedings receive a greater sentence than defendants who do not. See, e.g., United States Sentencing Commission, Guidelines Manual, §3C1.1 (Nov. 2003) (hereinafter USSG) (2-point increase in offense level for obstruction of justice). In such cases, the violation arises too late for the State to provide notice to the defendant or to argue the facts to the jury. A State wanting to make such facts relevant at sentencing must now either vest sufficient discretion in the judge to account for them or bring a separate criminal prosecution for obstruction of justice or perjury. And, the latter option is available only to the extent that a defendant’s obstructive behavior is so severe as to constitute an already-existing separate offense, unless the legislature is willing to undertake the unlikely expense of criminalizing relatively minor obstructive behavior.

Likewise, not all facts that historically have been relevant to sentencing always will be known prior to trial. For instance, trial or sentencing proceedings of a drug distribution defendant might reveal that he sold primarily to children. Under the majority’s approach, a State wishing such a revelation to result in a higher sentence within a pre-existing statutory range either must vest judges with sufficient discretion to account for it (and trust that they exercise that discretion) or bring a separate criminal prosecution. Indeed, the latter choice might not be available—a separate prosecution, if it is for an aggravated offense, likely would be barred altogether by the Double Jeopardy Clause. Blockburger v. United States, 284 U. S. 299 (1932) (cannot prosecute for separate offense unless the two offenses both have at least one element that the other does not).

The majority may be correct that States and the Federal Government will be willing to bear some of these costs. Ante, at 13–14. But simple economics dictate that they will not, and cannot, bear them all. To the extent that they do not, there will be an inevitable increase in judicial discretion with all of its attendant failings.[ Footnote 1 ]

III
Washington’s Sentencing Reform Act did not alter the statutory maximum sentence to which petitioner was exposed. See Wash. Rev. Code Ann. §9A.40.030 (2003) (second degree kidnaping class B felony since 1975); see also State v. Pawling, 23 Wash. App. 226, 228–229, 597 P. 2d 1367, 1369 (1979) (citing second degree kidnapping provision as existed in 1977). Petitioner was informed in the charging document, his plea agreement, and during his plea hearing that he faced a potential statutory maximum of 10 years in prison. App. 63, 66, 76. As discussed above, the guidelines served due process by providing notice to petitioner of the consequences of his acts; they vindicated his jury trial right by informing him of the stakes of risking trial; they served equal protection by ensuring petitioner that invidious characteristics such as race would not impact his sentence.

Given these observations, it is difficult for me to discern what principle besides doctrinaire formalism actually motivates today’s decision. The majority chides the Apprendi dissenters for preferring a nuanced interpretation of the Due Process Clause and Sixth Amendment jury trial guarantee that would generally defer to legislative labels while acknowledging the existence of constitutional constraints—what the majority calls the “the law must not go too far” approach. Ante, at 11 (emphasis deleted). If indeed the choice is between adopting a balanced case-by-case approach that takes into consideration the values underlying the Bill of Rights, as well as the history of a particular sentencing reform law, and adopting a rigid rule that destroys everything in its path, I will choose the former. See Apprendi, 530 U. S., at 552–554 (O’Connor, J., dissenting) (“Because I do not believe that the Court’s ‘increase in the maximum penalty’ rule is required by the Constitution, I would evaluate New Jersey’s sentence-enhancement statute by analyzing the factors we have examined in past cases” (citation omitted)).

But even were one to accept formalism as a principle worth vindicating for its own sake, it would not explain Apprendi ’s, or today’s, result. A rule of deferring to legislative labels has no less formal pedigree. It would be more consistent with our decisions leading up to Apprendi, see Almendarez-Torres v. United States, 523 U. S. 224 (1998) (fact of prior conviction not an element of aggravated recidivist offense); United States v. Watts, 519 U. S. 148 (1997) (per curiam) (acquittal of offense no bar to consideration of underlying conduct for purposes of guidelines enhancement); Witte v. United States, 515 U. S. 389 (1995) (no double jeopardy bar against consideration of uncharged conduct in imposition of guidelines enhancement); Walton v. Arizona, 497 U. S. 639 (1990) (aggravating factors need not be found by a jury in capital case); Mistretta v . United States, 488 U. S. 361 (1989) (Federal Sentencing Guidelines do not violate separation of powers); McMillan v. Pennsylvania, 477 U. S. 79 (1986) (facts increasing mandatory minimum sentence are not necessarily elements); and it would vest primary authority for defining crimes in the political branches, where it belongs. Apprendi, supra, at 523–554 (O’Connor, J., dissenting). It also would be easier to administer than the majority’s rule, inasmuch as courts would not be forced to look behind statutes and regulations to determine whether a particular fact does or does not increase the penalty to which a defendant was exposed.

The majority is correct that rigid adherence to such an approach could conceivably produce absurd results, ante, at 10; but, as today’s decision demonstrates, rigid adherence to the majority’s approach does and will continue to produce results that disserve the very principles the majority purports to vindicate. The pre Apprendi rule of deference to the legislature retains a built-in political check to prevent lawmakers from shifting the prosecution for crimes to the penalty phase proceedings of lesser included and easier-to-prove offenses— e.g., the majority’s hypothesized prosecution of murder in the guise of a traffic offense sentencing proceeding. Ante, at 10. There is no similar check, however, on application of the majority’s “ ‘any fact that increases the upper bound of judicial discretion’ ” by courts.

The majority claims the mantle of history and original intent. But as I have explained elsewhere, a handful of state decisions in the mid-19th century and a criminal procedure treatise have little if any persuasive value as evidence of what the Framers of the Federal Constitution intended in the late 18th century. See Apprendi, 530 U. S., at 525–528 (O’Connor, J., dissenting). Because broad judicial sentencing discretion was foreign to the Framers, id., at 478–479 (citing J. Archbold, Pleading and Evidence in Criminal Cases 44 (15th ed. 1862)), they were never faced with the constitutional choice between submitting every fact that increases a sentence to the jury or vesting the sentencing judge with broad discretionary authority to account for differences in offenses and offenders.

IV
A
The consequences of today’s decision will be as far reaching as they are disturbing. Washington’s sentencing system is by no means unique. Numerous other States have enacted guidelines systems, as has the Federal Government. See, e.g., Alaska Stat. §12.55.155 (2003); Ark. Code Ann. §16–90–804 (Supp. 2003); Fla. Stat. §921.0016 (2003); Kan. Stat. Ann. §21–4701 et seq. (2003); Mich. Comp. Laws Ann. §769.34 (West Supp. 2004); Minn. Stat. §244.10 (2002); N. C. Gen. Stat. §15A–1340.16 (Lexis 2003); Ore. Admin. Rule §213–008–0001 (2003); 204 Pa. Code §303 et seq. (2004), reproduced following 42 Pa. Cons. Stat. Ann. §9721 (Purden Supp. 2004); 18 U. S. C. §3553; 28 U. S. C. §991 et seq. Today’s decision casts constitutional doubt over them all and, in so doing, threatens an untold number of criminal judgments. Every sentence imposed under such guidelines in cases currently pending on direct appeal is in jeopardy. And, despite the fact that we hold in Schriro v. Summerlin, post, p. ___, that Ring (and a fortiori Apprendi ) does not apply retroactively on habeas review, all criminal sentences imposed under the federal and state guidelines since Apprendi was decided in 2000 arguably remain open to collateral attack. See Teague v. Lane, 489 U. S. 288, 301 (1989) (plurality opinion) (“[A] case announces a new rule if the result was not dictated by precedent existing at the time the defendant’s conviction became final”).[ Footnote 2 ]

The practical consequences for trial courts, starting today, will be equally unsettling: How are courts to mete out guidelines sentences? Do courts apply the guidelines as to mitigating factors, but not as to aggravating factors? Do they jettison the guidelines altogether? The Court ignores the havoc it is about to wreak on trial courts across the country.

B
It is no answer to say that today’s opinion impacts only Washington’s scheme and not others, such as, for example, the Federal Sentencing Guidelines. See ante, at 9, n. 9 (“The Federal Guidelines are not before us, and we express no opinion on them”); cf. Apprendi, supra, at 496–497 (claiming not to overrule Walton, supra, soon thereafter overruled in Ring ); Apprendi, supra, at 497, n. 21 (reserving question of Federal Sentencing Guidelines). The fact that the Federal Sentencing Guidelines are promulgated by an administrative agency nominally located in the Judicial Branch is irrelevant to the majority’s reasoning. The Guidelines have the force of law, see Stinson v. United States, 508 U. S. 36 (1993); and Congress has unfettered control to reject or accept any particular guideline, Mistretta, 488 U. S., at 393–394.

The structure of the Federal Guidelines likewise does not, as the Government half-heartedly suggests, provide any grounds for distinction. Brief for United States as Amicus Curiae 27–29. Washington’s scheme is almost identical to the upward departure regime established by 18 U. S. C. §3553(b) and implemented in USSG §5K2.0. If anything, the structural differences that do exist make the Federal Guidelines more vulnerable to attack. The provision struck down here provides for an increase in the upper bound of the presumptive sentencing range if the sentencing court finds, “considering the purpose of [the Act], that there are substantial and compelling reasons justifying an exceptional sentence.” Wash. Rev. Code Ann. §9.94A.120 (2000). The Act elsewhere provides a nonexhaustive list of aggravating factors that satisfy the definition. §9.94A.390. The Court flatly rejects respondent’s argument that such soft constraints, which still allow Washington judges to exercise a substantial amount of discretion, survive Apprendi. Ante, at 8–9. This suggests that the hard constraints found throughout chapters 2 and 3 of the Federal Sentencing Guidelines, which require an increase in the sentencing range upon specified factual findings, will meet the same fate. See, e.g., USSG §2K2.1 (increases in offense level for firearms offenses based on number of firearms involved, whether possession was in connection with another offense, whether the firearm was stolen); §2B1.1 (increase in offense level for financial crimes based on amount of money involved, number of victims, possession of weapon); §3C1.1 (general increase in offense level for obstruction of justice).

Indeed, the “extraordinary sentence” provision struck down today is as inoffensive to the holding of Apprendi as a regime of guided discretion could possibly be. The list of facts that justify an increase in the range is nonexhaustive. The State’s “real facts” doctrine precludes reliance by sentencing courts upon facts that would constitute the elements of a different or aggravated offense. See Wash. Rev. Code Ann. §9.94A.370(2) (2000) (codifying “real facts” doctrine). If the Washington scheme does not comport with the Constitution, it is hard to imagine a guidelines scheme that would.

* * *

What I have feared most has now come to pass: Over 20 years of sentencing reform are all but lost, and tens of thousands of criminal judgments are in jeopardy. Apprendi, 530 U. S., at 549–559 (O’Connor, J., dissenting); Ring, 536 U. S., at 619–621 (O’Connor, J., dissenting). I respectfully dissent.

Notes
Footnote 1

The paucity of empirical evidence regarding the impact of extending Apprendi v. New Jersey, 530 U. S. 466 (2000), to guidelines schemes should come as no surprise to the majority. Ante, at 13. Prior to today, only one court had ever applied Apprendi to invalidate application of a guidelines scheme. Compare State v. Gould, 271 Kan. 394, 23 P. 3d 801 (2001), with, e.g., United States v. Goodine, 326 F. 3d 26 (CA1 2003); United States v. Luciano, 311 F. 3d 146 (CA2 2002); United States v. DeSumma, 272 F. 3d 176 (CA3 2001); United States v. Kinter, 235 F. 3d 192 (CA4 2000); United States v. Randle, 304 F. 3d 373 (CA5 2002); United States v. Helton, 349 F. 3d 295 (CA6 2003); United States v. Johnson, 335 F. 3d 589 (CA7 2003) (per curiam); United States v. Piggie, 316 F. 3d 789 (CA8 2003); United States v. Toliver, 351 F. 3d 423 (CA9 2003); United States v. Mendez-Zamora, 296 F. 3d 1013 (CA10 2002); United States v. Sanchez, 269 F. 3d 1250 (CA11 2001); United States v. Fields, 251 F. 3d 1041 (CADC 2001); State v. Dilts, 336 Ore. 158, 82 P. 3d 593 (2003); State v. Gore, 143 Wash. 2d 288, 21 P. 3d 262 (2001); State v. Lucas, 353 N. C. 568, 548 S. E. 2d 712 (2001); State v. Dean, No. C4–02–1225, 2003 WL 21321425 (Minn. Ct. App., June 10, 2003) (unpublished opinion). Thus, there is no map of the uncharted territory blazed by today’s unprecedented holding.

Footnote 2

The numbers available from the federal system alone are staggering. On March 31, 2004, there were 8,320 federal criminal appeals pending in which the defendant’s sentence was at issue. Memorandum from Carl Schlesinger, Administrative Office of the United States Courts, to Supreme Court Library (June 1, 2004) (available in Clerk of the Court’s case file). Between June 27, 2000, when Apprendi was decided, and March 31, 2004, there have been 272,191 defendants sentenced in federal court. Memorandum, supra. Given that nearly all federal sentences are governed by the Federal Sentencing Guidelines, the vast majority of these cases are Guidelines cases.

Missouri v. Seibert

Justice O’Connor, with whom The Chief Justice, Justice Scalia, and Justice Thomas join, dissenting.

The plurality devours Oregon v. Elstad, 470 U. S. 298 (1985), even as it accuses petitioner’s argument of “disfigur[ing]” that decision. Ante, at 12. I believe that we are bound by Elstad to reach a different result, and I would vacate the judgment of the Supreme Court of Missouri.

I
On two preliminary questions I am in full agreement with the plurality. First, the plurality appropriately follows Elstad in concluding that Seibert’s statement cannot be held inadmissible under a “fruit of the poisonous tree” theory. Ante, at 10, n. 4. Second, the plurality correctly declines to focus its analysis on the subjective intent of the interrogating officer.

A
This Court has made clear that there simply is no place for a robust deterrence doctrine with regard to violations of Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436 (1966). See Dickerson v. United States, 530 U. S. 428, 441 (2000) (“Our decision in [Elstad] —refusing to apply the traditional ‘fruits’ doctrine developed in Fourth Amendment cases—… simply recognizes the fact that unreasonable searches under the Fourth Amendment are different from unwarned interrogation under the Fifth Amendment”); Elstad, supra, at 306 (unlike the Fourth Amendment exclusionary rule, the “ Miranda exclusionary rule … serves the Fifth Amendment and sweeps more broadly than the Fifth Amendment itself”); see also United States v. Patane, post, at ___ (slip op., at 1) (Kennedy, J., concurring in judgment) (refusal to suppress evidence obtained following an unwarned confession in Elstad, New York v. Quarles, 467 U. S. 649 (1984), and Harris v. New York, 401 U. S. 222 (1971), was based on “our recognition that the concerns underlying the Miranda … rule and other objectives of the criminal justice system must be accommodated”). Consistent with that view, the Court today refuses to apply the traditional “fruits” analysis to the physical fruit of a claimed Miranda violation. Patane, post, p. ___. The plurality correctly refuses to apply a similar analysis to testimonial fruits.

Although the analysis the plurality ultimately espouses examines the same facts and circumstances that a “fruits” analysis would consider (such as the lapse of time between the two interrogations and change of questioner or location), it does so for entirely different reasons. The fruits analysis would examine those factors because they are relevant to the balance of deterrence value versus the “drastic and socially costly course” of excluding reliable evidence. Nix v. Williams, 467 U. S. 431, 442–443 (1984). The plurality, by contrast, looks to those factors to inform the psychological judgment regarding whether the suspect has been informed effectively of her right to remain silent. The analytical underpinnings of the two approaches are thus entirely distinct, and they should not be conflated just because they function similarly in practice. Cf. ante, at 1–2 (concurring opinion).

B
The plurality’s rejection of an intent-based test is also, in my view, correct. Freedom from compulsion lies at the heart of the Fifth Amendment, and requires us to assess whether a suspect’s decision to speak truly was voluntary. Because voluntariness is a matter of the suspect’s state of mind, we focus our analysis on the way in which suspects experience interrogation. See generally Miranda, 384 U. S., at 455 (summarizing psychological tactics used by police that “undermin[e]” the suspect’s “will to resist,” and noting that “the very fact of custodial interrogation … trades on the weakness of individuals”); id., at 467 (“[I]n-custody interrogation of persons suspected or accused of crime contains inherently compelling pressures which work to undermine the individual’s will to resist and to compel him to speak where he would not otherwise do so freely”).

Thoughts kept inside a police officer’s head cannot affect that experience. See Moran v. Burbine, 475 U. S. 412, 422 (1986) (“Events occurring outside of the presence of the suspect and entirely unknown to him surely can have no bearing on the capacity to comprehend and knowingly relinquish a constitutional right”). In Moran, an attorney hired by the suspect’s sister had been trying to contact the suspect and was told by the police, falsely, that they would not begin an interrogation that night. Id., at 416–418. The suspect was not aware that an attorney had been hired for him. Id., at 417. We rejected an analysis under which a different result would obtain for “the same defendant, armed with the same information and confronted with precisely the same police conduct” if something not known to the defendant—such as the fact that an attorney was attempting to contact him—had been different. Id., at 422. The same principle applies here. A suspect who experienced the exact same interrogation as Seibert, save for a difference in the undivulged, subjective intent of the interrogating officer when he failed to give Miranda warnings, would not experience the interrogation any differently. “[W]hether intentional or inadvertent, the state of mind of the police is irrelevant to the question of the intelligence and voluntariness of respondent’s election to abandon his rights. Although highly inappropriate, even deliberate deception of an attorney could not possibly affect a suspect’s decision to waive his Miranda rights unless he were at least aware of the incident.” 475 U. S., at 423. Cf. Stansbury v. California, 511 U. S. 318, 324–325 (1994) (per curiam) (police officer’s subjective intent is irrelevant to whether suspect is in custody for Miranda purposes; “one cannot expect the person under interrogation to probe the officer’s innermost thoughts”).

Because the isolated fact of Officer Hanrahan’s intent could not have had any bearing on Seibert’s “capacity to comprehend and knowingly relinquish” her right to remain silent, Moran, supra, at 422, it could not by itself affect the voluntariness of her confession. Moreover, recognizing an exception to Elstad for intentional violations would require focusing constitutional analysis on a police officer’s subjective intent, an unattractive proposition that we all but uniformly avoid. In general, “we believe that ‘sending state and federal courts on an expedition into the minds of police officers would produce a grave and fruitless misallocation of judicial resources.’ ” United States v. Leon, 468 U. S. 897, 922, n. 23 (1984) (quoting Massachusetts v. Painten, 389 U. S. 560, 565 (1968) (per curiam) (White, J., dissenting)). This case presents the uncommonly straightforward circumstance of an officer openly admitting that the violation was intentional. But the inquiry will be complicated in other situations probably more likely to occur. For example, different officers involved in an interrogation might claim different states of mind regarding the failure to give Miranda warnings. Even in the simple case of a single officer who claims that a failure to give Miranda warnings was inadvertent, the likelihood of error will be high. See W. LaFave, Search and Seizure §1.4(e), p. 124 (3d ed. 1996) (“[T]here is no reason to believe that courts can with any degree of success determine in which instances the police had an ulterior motive”).

These evidentiary difficulties have led us to reject an intent-based test in several criminal procedure contexts. For example, in New York v. Quarles, 467 U. S. 649 (1984), one of the factors that led us to reject an inquiry into the subjective intent of the police officer in crafting a test for the “public safety” exception to Miranda was that officers’ motives will be “largely unverifiable.” 467 U. S., at 656. Similarly, our opinion in Whren v. United States, 517 U. S. 806, 813–814 (1996), made clear that “the evidentiary difficulty of establishing subjective intent” was one of the reasons (albeit not the principal one) for refusing to consider intent in Fourth Amendment challenges generally.

For these reasons, I believe that the approach espoused by Justice Kennedy is ill advised. Justice Kennedy would extend Miranda ’s exclusionary rule to any case in which the use of the “two-step interrogation technique” was “deliberate” or “calculated.” Ante, at 4–5 (opinion concurring in judgment). This approach untethers the analysis from facts knowable to, and therefore having any potential directly to affect, the suspect. Far from promoting “clarity,” ibid., the approach will add a third step to the suppression inquiry. In virtually every two-stage interrogation case, in addition to addressing the standard Miranda and voluntariness questions, courts will be forced to conduct the kind of difficult, state-of-mind inquiry that we normally take pains to avoid.

II
The plurality’s adherence to Elstad, and mine to the plurality, end there. Our decision in Elstad rejected two lines of argument advanced in favor of suppression. The first was based on the “fruit of the poisonous tree” doctrine, discussed above. The second was the argument that the “lingering compulsion” inherent in a defendant’s having let the “cat out of the bag” required suppression. 470 U. S., at 311. The Court of Appeals of Oregon, in accepting the latter argument, had endorsed a theory indistinguishable from the one today’s plurality adopts: “[T]he coercive impact of the unconstitutionally obtained statement remains, because in a defendant’s mind it has sealed his fate. It is this impact that must be dissipated in order to make a subsequent confession admissible.” 61 Ore. App. 673, 677, 658 P. 2d 552, 554 (1983).

We rejected this theory outright. We did so not because we refused to recognize the “psychological impact of the suspect’s conviction that he has let the cat out of the bag,” but because we refused to “endo[w]” those “psychological effects” with “constitutional implications.” 470 U. S., at 311. To do so, we said, would “effectively immuniz[e] a suspect who responds to pre Miranda warning questions from the consequences of his subsequent informed waiver,” an immunity that “comes at a high cost to legitimate law enforcement activity, while adding little desirable protection to the individual’s interest in not being compelled to testify against himself.” Id., at 312. The plurality might very well think that we struck the balance between Fifth Amendment rights and law enforcement interests incorrectly in Elstad; but that is not normally a sufficient reason for ignoring the dictates of stare decisis.

I would analyze the two-step interrogation procedure under the voluntariness standards central to the Fifth Amendment and reiterated in Elstad. Elstad commands that if Seibert’s first statement is shown to have been involuntary, the court must examine whether the taint dissipated through the passing of time or a change in circumstances: “When a prior statement is actually coerced, the time that passes between confessions, the change in place of interrogations, and the change in identity of the interrogators all bear on whether that coercion has carried over into the second confession.” 470 U. S., at 310 (citing Westover v. United States, decided with Miranda, 384 U. S., at 494). In addition, Seibert’s second statement should be suppressed if she showed that it was involuntary despite the Miranda warnings. Elstad, supra, at 318 (“The relevant inquiry is whether, in fact, the second statement was also voluntarily made. As in any such inquiry, the finder of fact must examine the surrounding circumstances and the entire course of police conduct with respect to the suspect in evaluating the voluntariness of his statements”). Although I would leave this analysis for the Missouri courts to conduct on remand, I note that, unlike the officers in Elstad, Officer Hanrahan referred to Seibert’s unwarned statement during the second part of the interrogation when she made a statement at odds with her unwarned confession. App. 70 (“ ’Trice, didn’t you tell me that he was supposed to die in his sleep?”); cf . Elstad, supra, at 316 (officers did not “exploit the unwarned admission to pressure respondent into waiving his right to remain silent”). Such a tactic may bear on the voluntariness inquiry. Cf. Frazier v. Cupp, 394 U. S. 731, 739 (1969) (fact that police had falsely told a suspect that his accomplice had already confessed was “relevant” to the voluntariness inquiry); Moran, 475 U. S., at 423–424 (in discussing police deception, stating that simply withholding information is “relevant to the constitutional validity of a waiver if it deprives a defendant of knowledge essential to his ability to understand the nature of his rights and the consequences of abandoning them”); Miranda, supra, at 476.

* * *

Because I believe that the plurality gives insufficient deference to Elstad and that Justice Kennedy places improper weight on subjective intent, I respectfully dissent.

Hamdi v. Rumsfeld

Justice O’Connor announced the judgment of the Court and delivered an opinion, in which The Chief Justice, Justice Kennedy, and Justice Breyer join.
At this difficult time in our Nation’s history, we are called upon to consider the legality of the Government’s detention of a United States citizen on United States soil as an “enemy combatant” and to address the process that is constitutionally owed to one who seeks to challenge his classification as such. The United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit held that petitioner’s detention was legally authorized and that he was entitled to no further opportunity to challenge his enemy-combatant label. We now vacate and remand. We hold that although Congress authorized the detention of combatants in the narrow circumstances alleged here, due process demands that a citizen held in the United States as an enemy combatant be given a meaningful opportunity to contest the factual basis for that detention before a neutral decisionmaker.

I
On September 11, 2001, the al Qaeda terrorist network used hijacked commercial airliners to attack prominent targets in the United States. Approximately 3,000 people were killed in those attacks. One week later, in response to these “acts of treacherous violence,” Congress passed a resolution authorizing the President to “use all necessary and appropriate force against those nations, organizations, or persons he determines planned, authorized, committed, or aided the terrorist attacks” or “harbored such organizations or persons, in order to prevent any future acts of international terrorism against the United States by such nations, organizations or persons.” Authorization for Use of Military Force (“the AUMF”), 115 Stat. 224. Soon thereafter, the President ordered United States Armed Forces to Afghanistan, with a mission to subdue al Qaeda and quell the Taliban regime that was known to support it.

This case arises out of the detention of a man whom the Government alleges took up arms with the Taliban during this conflict. His name is Yaser Esam Hamdi. Born an American citizen in Louisiana in 1980, Hamdi moved with his family to Saudi Arabia as a child. By 2001, the parties agree, he resided in Afghanistan. At some point that year, he was seized by members of the Northern Alliance, a coalition of military groups opposed to the Taliban government, and eventually was turned over to the United States military. The Government asserts that it initially detained and interrogated Hamdi in Afghanistan before transferring him to the United States Naval Base in Guantanamo Bay in January 2002. In April 2002, upon learning that Hamdi is an American citizen, authorities transferred him to a naval brig in Norfolk, Virginia, where he remained until a recent transfer to a brig in Charleston, South Carolina. The Government contends that Hamdi is an “enemy combatant,” and that this status justifies holding him in the United States indefinitely—without formal charges or proceedings—unless and until it makes the determination that access to counsel or further process is warranted.

In June 2002, Hamdi’s father, Esam Fouad Hamdi, filed the present petition for a writ of habeas corpus under 28 U. S. C. §2241 in the Eastern District of Virginia, naming as petitioners his son and himself as next friend. The elder Hamdi alleges in the petition that he has had no contact with his son since the Government took custody of him in 2001, and that the Government has held his son “without access to legal counsel or notice of any charges pending against him.” App. 103, 104. The petition contends that Hamdi’s detention was not legally authorized. Id., at 105. It argues that, “[a]s an American citizen, … Hamdi enjoys the full protections of the Constitution,” and that Hamdi’s detention in the United States without charges, access to an impartial tribunal, or assistance of counsel “violated and continue[s] to violate the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments to the United States Constitution.” Id., at 107. The habeas petition asks that the court, among other things, (1) appoint counsel for Hamdi; (2) order respondents to cease interrogating him; (3) declare that he is being held in violation of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments; (4) “[t]o the extent Respondents contest any material factual allegations in this Petition, schedule an evidentiary hearing, at which Petitioners may adduce proof in support of their allegations”; and (5) order that Hamdi be released from his “unlawful custody.” Id., at 108–109. Although his habeas petition provides no details with regard to the factual circumstances surrounding his son’s capture and detention, Hamdi’s father has asserted in documents found elsewhere in the record that his son went to Afghanistan to do “relief work,” and that he had been in that country less than two months before September 11, 2001, and could not have received military training. Id., at 188–189. The 20-year-old was traveling on his own for the first time, his father says, and “[b]ecause of his lack of experience, he was trapped in Afghanistan once that military campaign began.” Id., at 188–189.

The District Court found that Hamdi’s father was a proper next friend, appointed the federal public defender as counsel for the petitioners, and ordered that counsel be given access to Hamdi. Id., at 113–116. The United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit reversed that order, holding that the District Court had failed to extend appropriate deference to the Government’s security and intelligence interests. 296 F. 3d 278, 279, 283 (2002). It directed the District Court to consider “the most cautious procedures first,” id., at 284, and to conduct a deferential inquiry into Hamdi’s status, id., at 283. It opined that “if Hamdi is indeed an ‘enemy combatant’ who was captured during hostilities in Afghanistan, the government’s present detention of him is a lawful one.” Ibid.

On remand, the Government filed a response and a motion to dismiss the petition. It attached to its response a declaration from one Michael Mobbs (hereinafter “Mobbs Declaration”), who identified himself as Special Advisor to the Under Secretary of Defense for Policy. Mobbs indicated that in this position, he has been “substantially involved with matters related to the detention of enemy combatants in the current war against the al Qaeda terrorists and those who support and harbor them (including the Taliban).” App. 148. He expressed his “familiar[ity]” with Department of Defense and United States military policies and procedures applicable to the detention, control, and transfer of al Qaeda and Taliban personnel, and declared that “[b]ased upon my review of relevant records and reports, I am also familiar with the facts and circumstances related to the capture of … Hamdi and his detention by U. S. military forces.” Ibid.

Mobbs then set forth what remains the sole evidentiary support that the Government has provided to the courts for Hamdi’s detention. The declaration states that Hamdi “traveled to Afghanistan” in July or August 2001, and that he thereafter “affiliated with a Taliban military unit and received weapons training.” Ibid. It asserts that Hamdi “remained with his Taliban unit following the attacks of September 11” and that, during the time when Northern Alliance forces were “engaged in battle with the Taliban,” “Hamdi’s Taliban unit surrendered” to those forces, after which he “surrender[ed] his Kalishnikov assault rifle” to them. Id., at 148–149. The Mobbs Declaration also states that, because al Qaeda and the Taliban “were and are hostile forces engaged in armed conflict with the armed forces of the United States,” “individuals associated with” those groups “were and continue to be enemy combatants.” Id., at 149. Mobbs states that Hamdi was labeled an enemy combatant “[b]ased upon his interviews and in light of his association with the Taliban.” Ibid. According to the declaration, a series of “U. S. military screening team[s]” determined that Hamdi met “the criteria for enemy combatants,” and “a subsequent interview of Hamdi has confirmed that he surrendered and gave his firearm to Northern Alliance forces, which supports his classification as an enemy combatant.” Id., at 149–150.

After the Government submitted this declaration, the Fourth Circuit directed the District Court to proceed in accordance with its earlier ruling and, specifically, to “ ‘consider the sufficiency of the Mobbs Declaration as an independent matter before proceeding further.’ ” 316 F. 3d at 450, 462 (2003). The District Court found that the Mobbs Declaration fell “far short” of supporting Hamdi’s detention. App. 292. It criticized the generic and hearsay nature of the affidavit, calling it “little more than the government’s ‘say-so.’ ” Id., at 298. It ordered the Government to turn over numerous materials for in camera review, including copies of all of Hamdi’s statements and the notes taken from interviews with him that related to his reasons for going to Afghanistan and his activities therein; a list of all interrogators who had questioned Hamdi and their names and addresses; statements by members of the Northern Alliance regarding Hamdi’s surrender and capture; a list of the dates and locations of his capture and subsequent detentions; and the names and titles of the United States Government officials who made the determinations that Hamdi was an enemy combatant and that he should be moved to a naval brig. Id., at 185–186. The court indicated that all of these materials were necessary for “meaningful judicial review” of whether Hamdi’s detention was legally authorized and whether Hamdi had received sufficient process to satisfy the Due Process Clause of the Constitution and relevant treaties or military regulations. Id., at 291–292.

The Government sought to appeal the production order, and the District Court certified the question of whether the Mobbs Declaration, “ ‘standing alone, is sufficient as a matter of law to allow meaningful judicial review of [Hamdi’s] classification as an enemy combatant.’ ” 316 F. 3d, at 462. The Fourth Circuit reversed, but did not squarely answer the certified question. It instead stressed that, because it was “undisputed that Hamdi was captured in a zone of active combat in a foreign theater of conflict,” no factual inquiry or evidentiary hearing allowing Hamdi to be heard or to rebut the Government’s assertions was necessary or proper. Id., at 459. Concluding that the factual averments in the Mobbs Declaration, “if accurate,” provided a sufficient basis upon which to conclude that the President had constitutionally detained Hamdi pursuant to the President’s war powers, it ordered the habeas petition dismissed. Id., at 473. The Fourth Circuit emphasized that the “vital purposes” of the detention of uncharged enemy combatants—preventing those combatants from rejoining the enemy while relieving the military of the burden of litigating the circumstances of wartime captures halfway around the globe—were interests “directly derived from the war powers of Articles I and II.” Id., at 465–466. In that court’s view, because “Article III contains nothing analogous to the specific powers of war so carefully enumerated in Articles I and II,” id., at 463, separation of powers principles prohibited a federal court from “delv[ing] further into Hamdi’s status and capture,” id., at 473. Accordingly, the District Court’s more vigorous inquiry “went far beyond the acceptable scope of review.” Ibid.

On the more global question of whether legal authorization exists for the detention of citizen enemy combatants at all, the Fourth Circuit rejected Hamdi’s arguments that 18 U. S. C. §4001(a) and Article 5 of the Geneva Convention rendered any such detentions unlawful. The court expressed doubt as to Hamdi’s argument that §4001(a), which provides that “[n]o citizen shall be imprisoned or otherwise detained by the United States except pursuant to an Act of Congress,” required express congressional authorization of detentions of this sort. But it held that, in any event, such authorization was found in the post-September 11 Authorization for Use of Military Force. 316 F. 3d, at 467. Because “capturing and detaining enemy combatants is an inherent part of warfare,” the court held, “the ‘necessary and appropriate force’ referenced in the congressional resolution necessarily includes the capture and detention of any and all hostile forces arrayed against our troops.” Ibid. ; see also id., at 467–468 (noting that Congress, in 10 U. S. C. §956(5), had specifically authorized the expenditure of funds for keeping prisoners of war and persons whose status was determined “to be similar to prisoners of war,” and concluding that this appropriation measure also demonstrated that Congress had “authorized [these individuals’] detention in the first instance”). The court likewise rejected Hamdi’s Geneva Convention claim, concluding that the convention is not self-executing and that, even if it were, it would not preclude the Executive from detaining Hamdi until the cessation of hostilities. 316 F. 3d, at 468–469.

Finally, the Fourth Circuit rejected Hamdi’s contention that its legal analyses with regard to the authorization for the detention scheme and the process to which he was constitutionally entitled should be altered by the fact that he is an American citizen detained on American soil. Relying on Ex parte Quirin, 317 U. S. 1 (1942), the court emphasized that “[o]ne who takes up arms against the United States in a foreign theater of war, regardless of his citizenship, may properly be designated an enemy combatant and treated as such.” 316 F.3d, at 475. “The privilege of citizenship,” the court held, “entitles Hamdi to a limited judicial inquiry into his detention, but only to determine its legality under the war powers of the political branches. At least where it is undisputed that he was present in a zone of active combat operations, we are satisfied that the Constitution does not entitle him to a searching review of the factual determinations underlying his seizure there.” Ibid.

The Fourth Circuit denied rehearing en banc, 337 F. 3d 335 (2003), and we granted certiorari. 540 U. S. __ (2004). We now vacate the judgment below and remand.

II
The threshold question before us is whether the Executive has the authority to detain citizens who qualify as “enemy combatants.” There is some debate as to the proper scope of this term, and the Government has never provided any court with the full criteria that it uses in classifying individuals as such. It has made clear, however, that, for purposes of this case, the “enemy combatant” that it is seeking to detain is an individual who, it alleges, was “ ‘part of or supporting forces hostile to the United States or coalition partners’ ” in Afghanistan and who “ ‘engaged in an armed conflict against the United States’ ” there. Brief for Respondents 3. We therefore answer only the narrow question before us: whether the detention of citizens falling within that definition is authorized.

The Government maintains that no explicit congressional authorization is required, because the Executive possesses plenary authority to detain pursuant to Article II of the Constitution. We do not reach the question whether Article II provides such authority, however, because we agree with the Government’s alternative position, that Congress has in fact authorized Hamdi’s detention, through the AUMF.

Our analysis on that point, set forth below, substantially overlaps with our analysis of Hamdi’s principal argument for the illegality of his detention. He posits that his detention is forbidden by 18 U. S. C. §4001(a). Section 4001(a) states that “[n]o citizen shall be imprisoned or otherwise detained by the United States except pursuant to an Act of Congress.” Congress passed §4001(a) in 1971 as part of a bill to repeal the Emergency Detention Act of 1950, 50 U. S. C. §811 et seq., which provided procedures for executive detention, during times of emergency, of individuals deemed likely to engage in espionage or sabotage. Congress was particularly concerned about the possibility that the Act could be used to reprise the Japanese internment camps of World War II. H. R. Rep. No. 92–116 (1971); id., at 4 (“The concentration camp implications of the legislation render it abhorrent”). The Government again presses two alternative positions. First, it argues that §4001(a), in light of its legislative history and its location in Title 18, applies only to “the control of civilian prisons and related detentions,” not to military detentions. Brief for Respondents 21. Second, it maintains that §4001(a) is satisfied, because Hamdi is being detained “pursuant to an Act of Congress”—the AUMF. Id., at 21–22. Again, because we conclude that the Government’s second assertion is correct, we do not address the first. In other words, for the reasons that follow, we conclude that the AUMF is explicit congressional authorization for the detention of individuals in the narrow category we describe (assuming, without deciding, that such authorization is required), and that the AUMF satisfied §4001(a)’s requirement that a detention be “pursuant to an Act of Congress” (assuming, without deciding, that §4001(a) applies to military detentions).

The AUMF authorizes the President to use “all necessary and appropriate force” against “nations, organizations, or persons” associated with the September 11, 2001, terrorist attacks. 115 Stat. 224. There can be no doubt that individuals who fought against the United States in Afghanistan as part of the Taliban, an organization known to have supported the al Qaeda terrorist network responsible for those attacks, are individuals Congress sought to target in passing the AUMF. We conclude that detention of individuals falling into the limited category we are considering, for the duration of the particular conflict in which they were captured, is so fundamental and accepted an incident to war as to be an exercise of the “necessary and appropriate force” Congress has authorized the President to use.

The capture and detention of lawful combatants and the capture, detention, and trial of unlawful combatants, by “universal agreement and practice,” are “important incident[s] of war.” Ex parte Quirin, 317 U. S., at 28. The purpose of detention is to prevent captured individuals from returning to the field of battle and taking up arms once again. Naqvi, Doubtful Prisoner-of-War Status, 84 Int’l Rev. Red Cross 571, 572 (2002) (“[C]aptivity in war is ‘neither revenge, nor punishment, but solely protective custody, the only purpose of which is to prevent the prisoners of war from further participation in the war’ ” (quoting decision of Nuremberg Military Tribunal, reprinted in 41 Am. J. Int’l L. 172, 229 (1947)); W. Winthrop, Military Law and Precedents 788 (rev. 2d ed. 1920) (“The time has long passed when ‘no quarter’ was the rule on the battlefield …. It is now recognized that ‘Captivity is neither a punishment nor an act of vengeance,’ but ‘merely a temporary detention which is devoid of all penal character.’ … ‘A prisoner of war is no convict; his imprisonment is a simple war measure.’ ” (citations omitted); cf. In re Territo, 156 F. 2d 142, 145 (CA9 1946) (“The object of capture is to prevent the captured individual from serving the enemy. He is disarmed and from then on must be removed as completely as practicable from the front, treated humanely, and in time exchanged, repatriated, or otherwise released” (footnotes omitted)).

There is no bar to this Nation’s holding one of its own citizens as an enemy combatant. In Quirin, one of the detainees, Haupt, alleged that he was a naturalized United States citizen. 317 U. S., at 20. We held that “[c]itizens who associate themselves with the military arm of the enemy government, and with its aid, guidance and direction enter this country bent on hostile acts, are enemy belligerents within the meaning of … the law of war.” Id. , at 37–38. While Haupt was tried for violations of the law of war, nothing in Quirin suggests that his citizenship would have precluded his mere detention for the duration of the relevant hostilities. See id. , at 30–31. See also Lieber Code, ¶ ;153, Instructions for the Government of Armies of the United States in the Field, Gen. Order No. 100 (1863), reprinted in 2 Lieber, Miscellaneous Writings, p. 273 (contemplating, in code binding the Union Army during the Civil War, that “captured rebels” would be treated “as prisoners of war”). Nor can we see any reason for drawing such a line here. A citizen, no less than an alien, can be “part of or supporting forces hostile to the United States or coalition partners” and “engaged in an armed conflict against the United States,” Brief for Respondents 3; such a citizen, if released, would pose the same threat of returning to the front during the ongoing conflict.

In light of these principles, it is of no moment that the AUMF does not use specific language of detention. Because detention to prevent a combatant’s return to the battlefield is a fundamental incident of waging war, in permitting the use of “necessary and appropriate force,” Congress has clearly and unmistakably authorized detention in the narrow circumstances considered here.

Hamdi objects, nevertheless, that Congress has not authorized the indefinite detention to which he is now subject. The Government responds that “the detention of enemy combatants during World War II was just as ‘indefinite’ while that war was being fought.” Id., at 16. We take Hamdi’s objection to be not to the lack of certainty regarding the date on which the conflict will end, but to the substantial prospect of perpetual detention. We recognize that the national security underpinnings of the “war on terror,” although crucially important, are broad and malleable. As the Government concedes, “given its unconventional nature, the current conflict is unlikely to end with a formal cease-fire agreement.” Ibid. The prospect Hamdi raises is therefore not far-fetched. If the Government does not consider this unconventional war won for two generations, and if it maintains during that time that Hamdi might, if released, rejoin forces fighting against the United States, then the position it has taken throughout the litigation of this case suggests that Hamdi’s detention could last for the rest of his life.

It is a clearly established principle of the law of war that detention may last no longer than active hostilities. See Article 118 of the Geneva Convention (III) Relative to the Treatment of Prisoners of War, Aug. 12, 1949, [1955] 6 U. S. T. 3316, 3406, T. I. A. S. No. 3364 (“Prisoners of war shall be released and repatriated without delay after the cessation of active hostilities”). See also Article 20 of the Hague Convention (II) on Laws and Customs of War on Land, July 29, 1899, 32 Stat. 1817 (as soon as possible after “conclusion of peace”); Hague Convention (IV), supra, Oct. 18, 1907, 36 Stat. 2301(“conclusion of peace” (Art. 20)); Geneva Convention, supra, July 27, 1929, 47 Stat. 2055 (repatriation should be accomplished with the least possible delay after conclusion of peace (Art. 75)); Praust, Judicial Power to Determine the Status and Rights of Persons Detained without Trial, 44 Harv. Int’l L. J. 503, 510–511 (2003) (prisoners of war “can be detained during an armed conflict, but the detaining country must release and repatriate them ‘without delay after the cessation of active hostilities,’ unless they are being lawfully prosecuted or have been lawfully convicted of crimes and are serving sentences” (citing Arts. 118, 85, 99, 119, 129, Geneva Convention (III), 6 T. I.A. S., at 3384, 3392, 3406, 3418)).

Hamdi contends that the AUMF does not authorize indefinite or perpetual detention. Certainly, we agree that indefinite detention for the purpose of interrogation is not authorized. Further, we understand Congress’ grant of authority for the use of “necessary and appropriate force” to include the authority to detain for the duration of the relevant conflict, and our understanding is based on longstanding law-of-war principles. If the practical circumstances of a given conflict are entirely unlike those of the conflicts that informed the development of the law of war, that understanding may unravel. But that is not the situation we face as of this date. Active combat operations against Taliban fighters apparently are ongoing in Afghanistan. See, e.g., Constable, U. S. Launches New Operation in Afghanistan, Washington Post, Mar. 14, 2004, p. A22 (reporting that 13,500 United States troops remain in Afghanistan, including several thousand new arrivals); J. Abizaid, Dept. of Defense, Gen. Abizaid Central Command Operations Update Briefing, Apr. 30, 2004, http://www.defenselink.mil/transcripts/2004/tr20040430-1402.html (as visited June 8, 2004, and available in the Clerk of Court’s case file) (media briefing describing ongoing operations in Afghanistan involving 20,000 United States troops). The United States may detain, for the duration of these hostilities, individuals legitimately determined to be Taliban combatants who “engaged in an armed conflict against the United States.” If the record establishes that United States troops are still involved in active combat in Afghanistan, those detentions are part of the exercise of “necessary and appropriate force,” and therefore are authorized by the AUMF.

Ex parte Milligan, 4 Wall. 2, 125 (1866), does not undermine our holding about the Government’s authority to seize enemy combatants, as we define that term today. In that case, the Court made repeated reference to the fact that its inquiry into whether the military tribunal had jurisdiction to try and punish Milligan turned in large part on the fact that Milligan was not a prisoner of war, but a resident of Indiana arrested while at home there. Id., at 118, 131. That fact was central to its conclusion. Had Milligan been captured while he was assisting Confederate soldiers by carrying a rifle against Union troops on a Confederate battlefield, the holding of the Court might well have been different. The Court’s repeated explanations that Milligan was not a prisoner of war suggest that had these different circumstances been present he could have been detained under military authority for the duration of the conflict, whether or not he was a citizen.[ Footnote 1 ]

Moreover, as Justice Scalia acknowledges, the Court in Ex parte Quirin, 317 U. S. 1 (1942), dismissed the language of Milligan that the petitioners had suggested prevented them from being subject to military process. Post, at 17–18 (dissenting opinion). Clear in this rejection was a disavowal of the New York State cases cited in Milligan, 4 Wall., at 128–129, on which Justice Scalia relies. See id., at 128–129. Both Smith v. Shaw, 12 Johns. *257 (N. Y. 1815), and M’Connell v. Hampton, 12 Johns. *234 (N. Y. 1815), were civil suits for false imprisonment. Even accepting that these cases once could have been viewed as standing for the sweeping proposition for which Justice Scalia cites them—that the military does not have authority to try an American citizen accused of spying against his country during wartime— Quirin makes undeniably clear that this is not the law today. Haupt, like the citizens in Smith and M’Connell, was accused of being a spy. The Court in Quirin found him “subject to trial and punishment by [a] military tribunal[ ]” for those acts, and held that his citizenship did not change this result. 317 U. S., at 31, 37–38.

Quirin was a unanimous opinion. It both postdates and clarifies Milligan, providing us with the most apposite precedent that we have on the question of whether citizens may be detained in such circumstances. Brushing aside such precedent—particularly when doing so gives rise to a host of new questions never dealt with by this Court—is unjustified and unwise.

To the extent that Justice Scalia accepts the precedential value of Quirin, he argues that it cannot guide our inquiry here because “[i]n Quirin it was uncontested that the petitioners were members of enemy forces,” while Hamdi challenges his classification as an enemy combatant. Post, at 19. But it is unclear why, in the paradigm outlined by Justice Scalia, such a concession should have any relevance. Justice Scalia envisions a system in which the only options are congressional suspension of the writ of habeas corpus or prosecution for treason or some other crime. Post, at 1. He does not explain how his historical analysis supports the addition of a third option—detention under some other process after concession of enemy-combatant status—or why a concession should carry any different effect than proof of enemy-combatant status in a proceeding that comports with due process. To be clear, our opinion only finds legislative authority to detain under the AUMF once it is sufficiently clear that the individual is, in fact, an enemy combatant; whether that is established by concession or by some other process that verifies this fact with sufficient certainty seems beside the point.

Further, Justice Scalia largely ignores the context of this case: a United States citizen captured in a foreign combat zone. Justice Scalia refers to only one case involving this factual scenario—a case in which a United States citizen-POW (a member of the Italian army) from World War II was seized on the battlefield in Sicily and then held in the United States. The court in that case held that the military detention of that United States citizen was lawful. See In re Territo, 156 F. 2d, at 148.

Justice Scalia’s treatment of that case—in a footnote—suffers from the same defect as does his treatment of Quirin: Because Justice Scalia finds the fact of battlefield capture irrelevant, his distinction based on the fact that the petitioner “conceded” enemy combatant status is beside the point. See supra, at 15–16. Justice Scalia can point to no case or other authority for the proposition that those captured on a foreign battlefield (whether detained there or in U. S. territory) cannot be detained outside the criminal process.

Moreover, Justice Scalia presumably would come to a different result if Hamdi had been kept in Afghanistan or even Guantanamo Bay. See post, at 25 (Scalia, J., dissenting). This creates a perverse incentive. Military authorities faced with the stark choice of submitting to the full-blown criminal process or releasing a suspected enemy combatant captured on the battlefield will simply keep citizen-detainees abroad. Indeed, the Government transferred Hamdi from Guantanamo Bay to the United States naval brig only after it learned that he might be an American citizen. It is not at all clear why that should make a determinative constitutional difference.

III
Even in cases in which the detention of enemy combatants is legally authorized, there remains the question of what process is constitutionally due to a citizen who disputes his enemy-combatant status. Hamdi argues that he is owed a meaningful and timely hearing and that “extra-judicial detention [that] begins and ends with the submission of an affidavit based on third-hand hearsay” does not comport with the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments. Brief for Petitioners 16. The Government counters that any more process than was provided below would be both unworkable and “constitutionally intolerable.” Brief for Respondents 46. Our resolution of this dispute requires a careful examination both of the writ of habeas corpus, which Hamdi now seeks to employ as a mechanism of judicial review, and of the Due Process Clause, which informs the procedural contours of that mechanism in this instance.

A
Though they reach radically different conclusions on the process that ought to attend the present proceeding, the parties begin on common ground. All agree that, absent suspension, the writ of habeas corpus remains available to every individual detained within the United States. U. S. Const., Art. I, §9, cl. 2 (“The Privilege of the Writ of Habeas Corpus shall not be suspended, unless when in Cases of Rebellion or Invasion the public Safety may require it”). Only in the rarest of circumstances has Congress seen fit to suspend the writ. See, e.g., Act of Mar. 3, 1863, ch. 81, §1, 12 Stat. 755; Act of April 20, 1871, ch. 22, §4, 17 Stat. 14. At all other times, it has remained a critical check on the Executive, ensuring that it does not detain individuals except in accordance with law. See INS v. St. Cyr, 533 U. S. 289, 301 (2001). All agree suspension of the writ has not occurred here. Thus, it is undisputed that Hamdi was properly before an Article III court to challenge his detention under 28 U. S. C. §2241. Brief for Respondents 12. Further, all agree that §2241 and its companion provisions provide at least a skeletal outline of the procedures to be afforded a petitioner in federal habeas review. Most notably, §2243 provides that “the person detained may, under oath, deny any of the facts set forth in the return or allege any other material facts,” and §2246 allows the taking of evidence in habeas proceedings by deposition, affidavit, or interrogatories.

The simple outline of §2241 makes clear both that Congress envisioned that habeas petitioners would have some opportunity to present and rebut facts and that courts in cases like this retain some ability to vary the ways in which they do so as mandated by due process. The Government recognizes the basic procedural protections required by the habeas statute, Id., at 37–38, but asks us to hold that, given both the flexibility of the habeas mechanism and the circumstances presented in this case, the presentation of the Mobbs Declaration to the habeas court completed the required factual development. It suggests two separate reasons for its position that no further process is due.

B
First, the Government urges the adoption of the Fourth Circuit’s holding below—that because it is “undisputed” that Hamdi’s seizure took place in a combat zone, the habeas determination can be made purely as a matter of law, with no further hearing or factfinding necessary. This argument is easily rejected. As the dissenters from the denial of rehearing en banc noted, the circumstances surrounding Hamdi’s seizure cannot in any way be characterized as “undisputed,” as “those circumstances are neither conceded in fact, nor susceptible to concession in law, because Hamdi has not been permitted to speak for himself or even through counsel as to those circumstances.” 337 F. 3d 335, 357 (CA4 2003) (Luttig, J., dissenting from denial of rehearing en banc); see also id., at 371–372 (Motz, J., dissenting from denial of rehearing en banc). Further, the “facts” that constitute the alleged concession are insufficient to support Hamdi’s detention. Under the definition of enemy combatant that we accept today as falling within the scope of Congress’ authorization, Hamdi would need to be “part of or supporting forces hostile to the United States or coalition partners” and “engaged in an armed conflict against the United States” to justify his detention in the United States for the duration of the relevant conflict. Brief for Respondents 3. The habeas petition states only that “[w]hen seized by the United States Government, Mr. Hamdi resided in Afghanistan.” App. 104. An assertion that one resided in a country in which combat operations are taking place is not a concession that one was “ captured in a zone of active combat operations in a foreign theater of war,” 316 F. 3d, at 459 (emphasis added), and certainly is not a concession that one was “part of or supporting forces hostile to the United States or coalition partners” and “engaged in an armed conflict against the United States.” Accordingly, we reject any argument that Hamdi has made concessions that eliminate any right to further process.

C
The Government’s second argument requires closer consideration. This is the argument that further factual exploration is unwarranted and inappropriate in light of the extraordinary constitutional interests at stake. Under the Government’s most extreme rendition of this argument, “[r]espect for separation of powers and the limited institutional capabilities of courts in matters of military decision-making in connection with an ongoing conflict” ought to eliminate entirely any individual process, restricting the courts to investigating only whether legal authorization exists for the broader detention scheme. Brief for Respondents 26. At most, the Government argues, courts should review its determination that a citizen is an enemy combatant under a very deferential “some evidence” standard. Id., at 34 (“Under the some evidence standard, the focus is exclusively on the factual basis supplied by the Executive to support its own determination” (citing Superintendent, Mass. Correctional Institution at Walpole v. Hill, 472 U. S. 445, 455–457 (1985) (explaining that the some evidence standard “does not require” a “weighing of the evidence,” but rather calls for assessing “whether there is any evidence in the record that could support the conclusion”)). Under this review, a court would assume the accuracy of the Government’s articulated basis for Hamdi’s detention, as set forth in the Mobbs Declaration, and assess only whether that articulated basis was a legitimate one. Brief for Respondents 36; see also 316 F. 3d, at 473–474 (declining to address whether the “some evidence” standard should govern the adjudication of such claims, but noting that “[t]he factual averments in the [Mobbs] affidavit, if accurate, are sufficient to confirm” the legality of Hamdi’s detention).

In response, Hamdi emphasizes that this Court consistently has recognized that an individual challenging his detention may not be held at the will of the Executive without recourse to some proceeding before a neutral tribunal to determine whether the Executive’s asserted justifications for that detention have basis in fact and warrant in law. See, e.g., Zadvydas v. Davis, 533 U. S. 678, 690 (2001); Addington v. Texas, 441 U. S. 418, 425–427 (1979). He argues that the Fourth Circuit inappropriately “ceded power to the Executive during wartime to define the conduct for which a citizen may be detained, judge whether that citizen has engaged in the proscribed conduct, and imprison that citizen indefinitely,” Brief for Petitioners 21, and that due process demands that he receive a hearing in which he may challenge the Mobbs Declaration and adduce his own counter evidence. The District Court, agreeing with Hamdi, apparently believed that the appropriate process would approach the process that accompanies a criminal trial. It therefore disapproved of the hearsay nature of the Mobbs Declaration and anticipated quite extensive discovery of various military affairs. Anything less, it concluded, would not be “meaningful judicial review.” App. 291.

Both of these positions highlight legitimate concerns. And both emphasize the tension that often exists between the autonomy that the Government asserts is necessary in order to pursue effectively a particular goal and the process that a citizen contends he is due before he is deprived of a constitutional right. The ordinary mechanism that we use for balancing such serious competing interests, and for determining the procedures that are necessary to ensure that a citizen is not “deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law,” U. S. Const., Amdt. 5, is the test that we articulated in Mathews v. Eldridge, 424 U. S. 319 (1976). See, e.g., Heller v. Doe, 509 U. S. 312, 330–331 (1993); Zinermon v. Burch, 494 U. S. 113, 127–128 (1990); United States v. Salerno, 481 U. S. 739, 746 (1987); Schall v. Martin, 467 U. S. 253, 274–275 (1984); Addington v. Texas, supra, at 425. Mathews dictates that the process due in any given instance is determined by weighing “the private interest that will be affected by the official action” against the Government’s asserted interest, “including the function involved” and the burdens the Government would face in providing greater process. 424 U. S., at 335. The Mathews calculus then contemplates a judicious balancing of these concerns, through an analysis of “the risk of an erroneous deprivation” of the private interest if the process were reduced and the “probable value, if any, of additional or substitute safeguards.” Ibid. We take each of these steps in turn.

1
It is beyond question that substantial interests lie on both sides of the scale in this case. Hamdi’s “private interest … affected by the official action,” ibid., is the most elemental of liberty interests—the interest in being free from physical detention by one’s own government. Foucha v. Louisiana, 504 U. S. 71, 80 (1992) (“Freedom from bodily restraint has always been at the core of the liberty protected by the Due Process Clause from arbitrary governmental action”); see also Parham v. J. R., 442 U. S. 584, 600 (1979) (noting the “substantial liberty interest in not being confined unnecessarily”). “In our society liberty is the norm,” and detention without trial “is the carefully limited exception.” Salerno, supra, at 755. “We have always been careful not to ‘minimize the importance and fundamental nature’ of the individual’s right to liberty,” Foucha, supra, at 80 (quoting Salerno, supra, at 750), and we will not do so today.

Nor is the weight on this side of the Mathews scale offset by the circumstances of war or the accusation of treasonous behavior, for “[i]t is clear that commitment for any purpose constitutes a significant deprivation of liberty that requires due process protection,” Jones v. United States, 463 U. S. 354, 361 (1983) (emphasis added; internal quotation marks omitted), and at this stage in the Mathews calculus, we consider the interest of the erroneously detained individual. Carey v. Piphus, 435 U. S. 247, 259 (1978) (“Procedural due process rules are meant to protect persons not from the deprivation, but from the mistaken or unjustified deprivation of life, liberty, or property”); see also id., at 266 (noting “the importance to organized society that procedural due process be observed,” and emphasizing that “the right to procedural due process is ‘absolute’ in the sense that it does not depend upon the merits of a claimant’s substantive assertions”). Indeed, as amicus briefs from media and relief organizations emphasize, the risk of erroneous deprivation of a citizen’s liberty in the absence of sufficient process here is very real. See Brief for AmeriCares et al. as Amici Curiae 13–22 (noting ways in which “[t]he nature of humanitarian relief work and journalism present a significant risk of mistaken military detentions”). Moreover, as critical as the Government’s interest may be in detaining those who actually pose an immediate threat to the national security of the United States during ongoing international conflict, history and common sense teach us that an unchecked system of detention carries the potential to become a means for oppression and abuse of others who do not present that sort of threat. See Ex parte Milligan, 4 Wall., at 125 (“[The Founders] knew—the history of the world told them—the nation they were founding, be its existence short or long, would be involved in war; how often or how long continued, human foresight could not tell; and that unlimited power, wherever lodged at such a time, was especially hazardous to freemen”). Because we live in a society in which “[m]ere public intolerance or animosity cannot constitutionally justify the deprivation of a person’s physical liberty,” O’Connor v. Donaldson, 422 U. S. 563, 575 (1975), our starting point for the Mathews v. Eldridge analysis is unaltered by the allegations surrounding the particular detainee or the organizations with which he is alleged to have associated. We reaffirm today the fundamental nature of a citizen’s right to be free from involuntary confinement by his own government without due process of law, and we weigh the opposing governmental interests against the curtailment of liberty that such confinement entails.

2
On the other side of the scale are the weighty and sensitive governmental interests in ensuring that those who have in fact fought with the enemy during a war do not return to battle against the United States. As discussed above, supra, at 10, the law of war and the realities of combat may render such detentions both necessary and appropriate, and our due process analysis need not blink at those realities. Without doubt, our Constitution recognizes that core strategic matters of warmaking belong in the hands of those who are best positioned and most politically accountable for making them. Department of Navy v. Egan, 484 U. S. 518, 530 (1988) (noting the reluctance of the courts “to intrude upon the authority of the Executive in military and national security affairs”); Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U. S. 579, 587 (1952) (acknowledging “broad powers in military commanders engaged in day-to-day fighting in a theater of war”).

The Government also argues at some length that its interests in reducing the process available to alleged enemy combatants are heightened by the practical difficulties that would accompany a system of trial-like process. In its view, military officers who are engaged in the serious work of waging battle would be unnecessarily and dangerously distracted by litigation half a world away, and discovery into military operations would both intrude on the sensitive secrets of national defense and result in a futile search for evidence buried under the rubble of war. Brief for Respondents 46–49. To the extent that these burdens are triggered by heightened procedures, they are properly taken into account in our due process analysis.

3
Striking the proper constitutional balance here is of great importance to the Nation during this period of ongoing combat. But it is equally vital that our calculus not give short shrift to the values that this country holds dear or to the privilege that is American citizenship. It is during our most challenging and uncertain moments that our Nation’s commitment to due process is most severely tested; and it is in those times that we must preserve our commitment at home to the principles for which we fight abroad. See Kennedy v. Mendoza&nbhyph;Martinez, 372 U. S. 144, 164–165 (1963) (“The imperative necessity for safeguarding these rights to procedural due process under the gravest of emergencies has existed throughout our constitutional history, for it is then, under the pressing exigencies of crisis, that there is the greatest temptation to dispense with guarantees which, it is feared, will inhibit government action”); see also United States v. Robel, 389 U. S. 258, 264 (1967) (“It would indeed be ironic if, in the name of national defense, we would sanction the subversion of one of those liberties … which makes the defense of the Nation worthwhile”).

With due recognition of these competing concerns, we believe that neither the process proposed by the Government nor the process apparently envisioned by the District Court below strikes the proper constitutional balance when a United States citizen is detained in the United States as an enemy combatant. That is, “the risk of erroneous deprivation” of a detainee’s liberty interest is unacceptably high under the Government’s proposed rule, while some of the “additional or substitute procedural safeguards” suggested by the District Court are unwarranted in light of their limited “probable value” and the burdens they may impose on the military in such cases. Mathews, 424 U. S., at 335.

We therefore hold that a citizen-detainee seeking to challenge his classification as an enemy combatant must receive notice of the factual basis for his classification, and a fair opportunity to rebut the Government’s factual assertions before a neutral decisionmaker. See Cleveland Bd. of Ed. v. Loudermill, 470 U. S. 532, 542 (1985) (“An essential principle of due process is that a deprivation of life, liberty, or property ‘be preceded by notice and opportunity for hearing appropriate to the nature of the case’ ” (quoting Mullane v. Central Hanover Bank & Trust Co., 339 U. S. 306, 313 (1950)); Concrete Pipe & Products of Cal., Inc. v. Construction Laborers Pension Trust for Southern Cal., 508 U. S. 602, 617 (1993) (“due process requires a ‘neutral and detached judge in the first instance’ ” (quoting Ward v. Monroeville, 409 U. S. 57, 61–62 (1972)). “For more than a century the central meaning of procedural due process has been clear: ‘Parties whose rights are to be affected are entitled to be heard; and in order that they may enjoy that right they must first be notified.’ It is equally fundamental that the right to notice and an opportunity to be heard ‘must be granted at a meaningful time and in a meaningful manner.’ ” Fuentes v. Shevin, 407 U. S. 67, 80 (1972) (quoting Baldwin v. Hale, 1 Wall. 223, 233 (1864); Armstrong v. Manzo, 380 U. S. 545, 552 (1965) (other citations omitted)). These essential constitutional promises may not be eroded.

At the same time, the exigencies of the circumstances may demand that, aside from these core elements, enemy combatant proceedings may be tailored to alleviate their uncommon potential to burden the Executive at a time of ongoing military conflict. Hearsay, for example, may need to be accepted as the most reliable available evidence from the Government in such a proceeding. Likewise, the Constitution would not be offended by a presumption in favor of the Government’s evidence, so long as that presumption remained a rebuttable one and fair opportunity for rebuttal were provided. Thus, once the Government puts forth credible evidence that the habeas petitioner meets the enemy-combatant criteria, the onus could shift to the petitioner to rebut that evidence with more persuasive evidence that he falls outside the criteria. A burden-shifting scheme of this sort would meet the goal of ensuring that the errant tourist, embedded journalist, or local aid worker has a chance to prove military error while giving due regard to the Executive once it has put forth meaningful support for its conclusion that the detainee is in fact an enemy combatant. In the words of Mathews, process of this sort would sufficiently address the “risk of erroneous deprivation” of a detainee’s liberty interest while eliminating certain procedures that have questionable additional value in light of the burden on the Government. 424 U. S., at 335.[ Footnote 2 ]

We think it unlikely that this basic process will have the dire impact on the central functions of warmaking that the Government forecasts. The parties agree that initial captures on the battlefield need not receive the process we have discussed here; that process is due only when the determination is made to continue to hold those who have been seized. The Government has made clear in its briefing that documentation regarding battlefield detainees already is kept in the ordinary course of military affairs. Brief for Respondents 3–4. Any factfinding imposition created by requiring a knowledgeable affiant to summarize these records to an independent tribunal is a minimal one. Likewise, arguments that military officers ought not have to wage war under the threat of litigation lose much of their steam when factual disputes at enemy-combatant hearings are limited to the alleged combatant’s acts. This focus meddles little, if at all, in the strategy or conduct of war, inquiring only into the appropriateness of continuing to detain an individual claimed to have taken up arms against the United States. While we accord the greatest respect and consideration to the judgments of military authorities in matters relating to the actual prosecution of a war, and recognize that the scope of that discretion necessarily is wide, it does not infringe on the core role of the military for the courts to exercise their own time-honored and constitutionally mandated roles of reviewing and resolving claims like those presented here. Cf. Korematsu v. United States, 323 U. S. 214, 233–234 (1944) (Murphy, J., dissenting) (“[L]ike other claims conflicting with the asserted constitutional rights of the individual, the military claim must subject itself to the judicial process of having its reasonableness determined and its conflicts with other interests reconciled”); Sterling v. Constantin, 287 U. S. 378, 401 (1932) (“What are the allowable limits of military discretion, and whether or not they have been overstepped in a particular case, are judicial questions”).

In sum, while the full protections that accompany challenges to detentions in other settings may prove unworkable and inappropriate in the enemy-combatant setting, the threats to military operations posed by a basic system of independent review are not so weighty as to trump a citizen’s core rights to challenge meaningfully the Government’s case and to be heard by an impartial adjudicator.

D
In so holding, we necessarily reject the Government’s assertion that separation of powers principles mandate a heavily circumscribed role for the courts in such circumstances. Indeed, the position that the courts must forgo any examination of the individual case and focus exclusively on the legality of the broader detention scheme cannot be mandated by any reasonable view of separation of powers, as this approach serves only to condense power into a single branch of government. We have long since made clear that a state of war is not a blank check for the President when it comes to the rights of the Nation’s citizens. Youngstown Sheet & Tube, 343 U. S., at 587. Whatever power the United States Constitution envisions for the Executive in its exchanges with other nations or with enemy organizations in times of conflict, it most assuredly envisions a role for all three branches when individual liberties are at stake. Mistretta v. United States, 488 U. S. 361, 380 (1989) (it was “the central judgment of the Framers of the Constitution that, within our political scheme, the separation of governmental powers into three coordinate Branches is essential to the preservation of liberty”); Home Building & Loan Assn. v. Blaisdell, 290 U. S. 398, 426 (1934) (The war power “is a power to wage war successfully, and thus it permits the harnessing of the entire energies of the people in a supreme cooperative effort to preserve the nation. But even the war power does not remove constitutional limitations safeguarding essential liberties”). Likewise, we have made clear that, unless Congress acts to suspend it, the Great Writ of habeas corpus allows the Judicial Branch to play a necessary role in maintaining this delicate balance of governance, serving as an important judicial check on the Executive’s discretion in the realm of detentions. See St. Cyr, 533 U. S., at 301 (“At its historical core, the writ of habeas corpus has served as a means of reviewing the legality of Executive detention, and it is in that context that its protections have been strongest”). Thus, while we do not question that our due process assessment must pay keen attention to the particular burdens faced by the Executive in the context of military action, it would turn our system of checks and balances on its head to suggest that a citizen could not make his way to court with a challenge to the factual basis for his detention by his government, simply because the Executive opposes making available such a challenge. Absent suspension of the writ by Congress, a citizen detained as an enemy combatant is entitled to this process.

Because we conclude that due process demands some system for a citizen detainee to refute his classification, the proposed “some evidence” standard is inadequate. Any process in which the Executive’s factual assertions go wholly unchallenged or are simply presumed correct without any opportunity for the alleged combatant to demonstrate otherwise falls constitutionally short. As the Government itself has recognized, we have utilized the “some evidence” standard in the past as a standard of review, not as a standard of proof. Brief for Respondents 35. That is, it primarily has been employed by courts in examining an administrative record developed after an adversarial proceeding—one with process at least of the sort that we today hold is constitutionally mandated in the citizen enemy-combatant setting. See, e.g., St. Cyr, supra; Hill, 472 U. S., at 455–457. This standard therefore is ill suited to the situation in which a habeas petitioner has received no prior proceedings before any tribunal and had no prior opportunity to rebut the Executive’s factual assertions before a neutral decisionmaker.

Today we are faced only with such a case. Aside from unspecified “screening” processes, Brief for Respondents 3–4, and military interrogations in which the Government suggests Hamdi could have contested his classification, Tr. of Oral Arg. 40, 42, Hamdi has received no process. An interrogation by one’s captor, however effective an intelligence-gathering tool, hardly constitutes a constitutionally adequate factfinding before a neutral decisionmaker. Compare Brief for Respondents 42–43 (discussing the “secure interrogation environment,” and noting that military interrogations require a controlled “interrogation dynamic” and “a relationship of trust and dependency” and are “a critical source” of “timely and effective intelligence”) with Concrete Pipe, 508 U. S., at 617–618 (“one is entitled as a matter of due process of law to an adjudicator who is not in a situation which would offer a possible temptation to the average man as a judge… which might lead him not to hold the balance nice, clear and true” (internal quotation marks omitted). That even purportedly fair adjudicators “are disqualified by their interest in the controversy to be decided is, of course, the general rule.” Tumey v. Ohio, 273 U. S. 510, 522 (1927). Plainly, the “process” Hamdi has received is not that to which he is entitled under the Due Process Clause.

There remains the possibility that the standards we have articulated could be met by an appropriately authorized and properly constituted military tribunal. Indeed, it is notable that military regulations already provide for such process in related instances, dictating that tribunals be made available to determine the status of enemy detainees who assert prisoner-of-war status under the Geneva Convention. See Enemy Prisoners of War, Retained Personnel, Civilian Internees and Other Detainees, Army Regulation 190–8, §1–6 (1997). In the absence of such process, however, a court that receives a petition for a writ of habeas corpus from an alleged enemy combatant must itself ensure that the minimum requirements of due process are achieved. Both courts below recognized as much, focusing their energies on the question of whether Hamdi was due an opportunity to rebut the Government’s case against him. The Government, too, proceeded on this assumption, presenting its affidavit and then seeking that it be evaluated under a deferential standard of review based on burdens that it alleged would accompany any greater process. As we have discussed, a habeas court in a case such as this may accept affidavit evidence like that contained in the Mobbs Declaration, so long as it also permits the alleged combatant to present his own factual case to rebut the Government’s return. We anticipate that a District Court would proceed with the caution that we have indicated is necessary in this setting, engaging in a factfinding process that is both prudent and incremental. We have no reason to doubt that courts faced with these sensitive matters will pay proper heed both to the matters of national security that might arise in an individual case and to the constitutional limitations safeguarding essential liberties that remain vibrant even in times of security concerns.

IV
Hamdi asks us to hold that the Fourth Circuit also erred by denying him immediate access to counsel upon his detention and by disposing of the case without permitting him to meet with an attorney. Brief for Petitioners 19. Since our grant of certiorari in this case, Hamdi has been appointed counsel, with whom he has met for consultation purposes on several occasions, and with whom he is now being granted unmonitored meetings. He unquestionably has the right to access to counsel in connection with the proceedings on remand. No further consideration of this issue is necessary at this stage of the case.

* * *

The judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit is vacated, and the case is remanded for further proceedings.

It is so ordered.

Notes
Footnote 1

Here the basis asserted for detention by the military is that Hamdi was carrying a weapon against American troops on a foreign battlefield; that is, that he was an enemy combatant. The legal category of enemy combatant has not been elaborated upon in great detail. The permissible bounds of the category will be defined by the lower courts as subsequent cases are presented to them.

Footnote 2

Because we hold that Hamdi is constitutionally entitled to the process described above, we need not address at this time whether any treaty guarantees him similar access to a tribunal for a determination of his status.