Edwards v. Vannoy

JUSTICE GORSUCH, with whom JUSTICE THOMAS joins, concurring.¶

Sometimes this Court leaves a door ajar and holds out the possibility that someone, someday might walk through itthough no one ever has or, in truth, ever will. In Teague v. Lane , 489 U. S. 288 (1989), the Court suggested that one day it might apply a new “watershed” rule of criminal procedure retroactively to undo a final state court conviction. But that day never came to pass. Instead, over the following three decades this Court denied “watershed” status to one rule after another. Rules guaranteeing individuals the right to confront their accusers. Rules ensuring that only a jury may decide a defendant’s fate in a death penalty case. Rules preventing racially motivated jury selection. All failed to win retroactive application. Today, the Court candidly admits what has been long apparent: Teague held out a “false hope” and the time has come to close its door. Ante , at 15. We take this step not because this Court’s criminal procedure rulings are somehow unimportant. Any decision seeking to enforce liberties enshrined in the Constitution has a claim to “watershed” importance. Instead, we abandon Teague ’s test because it poses a question this Court has no business asking.¶

I¶

Though we often refer to the writ of habeas corpus, the common law knew several. See Ex parte Bollman , 8 U. S. (4 Cranch) 75, 97–98 (1807). All had one thing in common: Each required a custodian to produce ( habeas ) a prisoner’s person ( corpus ). But they served different ends. Some writs were tools for moving a prisoner from one court to another—whether for a new prosecution ( ad respondendum ) or to execute a prior judgment ( ad satisfaciendum ). Others functioned more like a subpoena to procure a prisoner’s presence to testify in court ( ad testificandum ). Others still served to remove a case from an inferior court to a superior one ( cum causa ). 3 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England 129–131 (1768).¶

Among them all, however, only one came to be known as “The Great Writ.” The writ of habeas corpus ad subjiciendum was a mechanism for asking “ why the liberty of [a] subject[] is restrained.” Id. , at 131 (emphasis added). Leading up to the English Civil War, monarchs sometimes jailed their subjects summarily and indefinitely, with little explanation and even less process. E.g. , Darnel’s Case , 3 How. St. Tr. 1–59 (K. B. 1627). In response, common law courts developed the ad subjiciendum writ to force the Crown to provide reasons for its actions and, if necessary, to ensure adequate process—like a criminal trial—to justify any further detention. See Petition of Right, 3 Car. 1, ch. 1, ¶¶ 5, 8 (1628). In other words, “habeas corpus [w]as the instrument by which due process could be insisted upon.” Hamdi v. Rumsfeld , 542 U. S. 507, 555 (2004) (Scalia, J., dissenting).¶

Great though it was, the writ’s power was never limitless. A prisoner confined under a final judgment of conviction by a court of competent jurisdiction stood on different footing than one confined by the King without trial. A court might issue the writ asking, “What is the reason for confinement?”¶

But if the return came back: “Because he’s serving a custodial sentence after being convicted of a crime,” the inquiry was usually at an end. See Opinion on the Writ of Habeas Corpus , Wilm. 77, 88, 97 Eng. Rep. 29, 36 (K. B. 1758); cf. Anonymus , Cart. 221, 124 Eng. Rep. 928 (C. P. 1671); Habeas Corpus Act of 1679, 31 Car. 2, ch. 2, ¶¶ 2, 20. Custody pursuant to a final judgment was proof that a defendant had received the process due to him. See, e.g. , Bushell’s Case , Vaugh. 135, 142–143, 124 Eng. Rep. 1006, 1009–1010 (C. P. 1670).¶

In 1789, Congress authorized federal courts to issue the habeas writ. 1 Cong. ch. 20, § 14, 1 Stat. 73, 81–82; Ex parte Bollman , 8 U. S. (4 Cranch), at 93–94. When called upon to interpret that statute, this Court defined the scope of habeas review by looking “to the common law.” Id. , at 93–94. Unsurprisingly, it proceeded to restate the longstanding rule associated with criminal judgments: Ad subjiciendum provided no recourse for a prisoner confined pursuant to a final judgment of conviction. Ex parte Watkins , 28 U. S. (3 Pet.) 193, 209 (1830). As Chief Justice Marshall rhetorically asked, “is not that judgment in itself sufficient cause?” Id. , at 202 (emphasis added).¶

If the answer was nearly always yes, one important exception existed both here and in England. A habeas court could grant relief if the court of conviction lacked jurisdiction over the defendant or his offense. Id. , at 202–203. Still, the exception was “confined” to that “limited class of cases.” Ex parte Parks , 93 U. S. (3 Otto) 18, 21 (1876). One judge could not grant relief just because he might have decided the merits of the case differently than another had. As this Court put it, a perceived “error in the judgment or proceedings, under and by virtue of which the party is imprisoned, constitute[d] no ground for” relief. Ex parte Siebold , 100 U. S. (10 Otto) 371, 375 (1880). Any other approach, the Court explained, risked converting the habeas writ into “a mere writ of error,” little more than a chance to redo a trial or its appeal. Ibid.¶

Originally, Congress allowed federal courts to issue habeas writs only to federal custodians. Reconstruction changed that. After the Civil War, Congress granted federal courts the power to issue habeas writs to state authorities as well. See Act of Feb. 5, 1867, 39 Cong. ch. 28, § 1, 14 Stat. 385, 385. 1 Even then, however, this Court continued to interpret the habeas statute consistent with historical practice. If a prisoner was in custody pursuant to a final state court judgment, a federal court was powerless to revisit those proceedings unless the state court had acted without jurisdiction. E.g., In re Graham , 138 U. S. 461, 462 (1891); Tinsley v. Anderson , 171 U. S. 101, 104–106 (1898); Markuson v. Boucher , 175 U. S. 184, 185–186 (1899); Medcraf v. Hodge , 245 U. S. 630, 630 (1917) ( per curiam ).¶

Under the view that prevailed in this country for most of our history, and in England for even longer, Teague ’s question about the “retroactive” application of “watershed” rules of criminal procedure to undo final criminal judgments would have made no sense. Because a final judgment of conviction, pursuant to a full-fledged criminal trial, was the process due to a criminal serving a custodial sentence, the habeas writ had served its purpose. A final judgment evidenced a lawful basis for confinement and was “binding on all the world.” Ex parte Watkins, 28 U. S. (3 Pet.), at 207.¶

------¶

1 That Act conferred on federal courts the “power to grant writs of habeas corpus in all cases where any person may be restrained of his or her liberty in violation of” federal law. Ibid. (emphasis added). Two earlier statutes extended federal habeas jurisdiction to state custodians, but only for a much narrower class of cases. In 1833, Congress authorized federal courts to issue habeas process to state custodians detaining federal officers for acts taken to implement federal law. Act of Mar. 2, 1833, 22 Cong. ch. 57, § 7, 4 Stat. 632, 634–635. This provision lives on in 28 U. S. C. § 2241(c)(2). And in 1842, Congress permitted federal courts to issue habeas process to state custodians detaining foreign officials whose acts implicated the law of nations. Act of Aug. 29, 1842, 27 Cong. ch. 257, 5 Stat. 539, 539. It, too, lives on in 28 U. S. C. § 2241(c)(4).¶

II¶

Only in the middle of the twentieth century did things really begin to change. In 1915, this Court suggested that a state court’s extreme departure from “established modes” of criminal trial practice, such as proceeding under the specter of mob violence, might be akin to the loss of “jurisdiction,” at least if no corrective mechanism like an appeal existed. Frank v. Mangum , 237 U. S. 309, 326, 335–336 (1915). But if that represented an innovation, it was a modest one.¶

The same cannot be said for Brown v. Allen , 344 U. S. 443, 464, 478 (1953). There, this Court effectively recast habeas as another way for federal courts to redress practically any error of federal law they might find in state court proceedings. Never mind that state courts are obligated to follow federal law under the Supremacy Clause. Never mind that those courts may have already passed on a defendant’s argument about his federal rights. See id. , at 487; id. , at 497–501 (Frankfurter, J.). Never mind, too, that the defendant may have lost on appeal within the state court system, and even petitioned this Court for direct review. See id. , at 456–457; id. , at 489–497 (Frankfurter, J.). Everyone accepts that, in our criminal justice system today, a judgment becomes final only after the completion of a trial and the appellate process, including the opportunity to seek certiorari from this Court on questions of federal law. See Clay v. United States , 537 U. S. 522, 527 (2003). 2 Yet, even¶

------¶

2 When a sovereign furnishes an opportunity to appeal (as state and federal governments now do), it necessarily invites an appellate court to revisit an initial merits determination. See J. Baker, An Introduction to English Legal History 148–153 (5th ed. 2019) (describing development of the appeal at common law); G. Jacob, A New Law-Dictionary (1729) (defining “appeal”). Under an appellate system, then, “[n]one of the[] [preceding decisions] are final” in an ultimate sense until any appeals are concluded. 3 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England 411 (1768).¶

after all that, Brown held, a federal district court could still vacate a final state court judgment based on any perceived error of federal law it might detect—and do so though the entire state judicial system and this Court had seen nothing amiss. 344 U. S., at 465–487; id., at 506–507 (Frankfurter, J.).¶

The result? As Justice Jackson warned, habeas became little more than an ordinary appeal with an extraordinary Latin name. The Court “so departed from [the finality] principle that the profession now believes that the issues [federal courts] actually consider [in] habeas corpus are substantially the same as would be considered on appeal.” Id. , at 540 (Jackson, J., concurring in result). “The fatal sentence that in real life writes finis to many causes”Judgment affirmed. or Certiorari denied. —became “in legal theory . . . a complete blank.” Id. , at 543. Justice Jackson feared that this result not only “trivializ[ed] . . . the writ,” but promised practical problems too. Id. , at 536. A large new “haystack” of frivolous habeas petitions was sure to follow, making it that much harder for courts to identify the meritorious “needle.” Id. , at 537. The only solution Justice Jackson could see was to hold fast to the traditional rule: A final judgment, after completion of trial and the exhaustion of any direct appellate review, was res judicata , and the sole exception was a lack of jurisdiction. Id. , at 543–544.¶

Brown not only upended centuries of settled precedent and invited practical problems; it produced anomalies as well. The very same term it decided Brown , this Court rejected Brown ’s fix-any-error approach for final judgments issued by military courts. Burns v. Wilson , 346 U. S. 137, 142 (1953) (plurality opinion); id. , at 147 (Minton, J., concurring in judgment). So only state convicts—not United States service members—were afforded an additional avenue for appellate relief in the garb of habeas corpus proceedings. It turned out, too, that only state courts—not executive tribunals—were forced to suffer the indignity of having their final judgments reopened. So federal courts wound up with more power to reopen the judgments of a different sovereign’s courts than the administrative proceedings of the federal government itself. See Rushing v. Wilkinson , 272 F. 2d 633, 641 (CA5 1959); M. Howe, Foreword: The Supreme Court , 1952 Term, 67 Harv. L. Rev. 91, 160–162 (1953).¶

With time, these implications became clear and, as Justice Jackson predicted, Brown ’s innovation proved unsustainable. The haystack just grew too large. During the 1960s, this Court incorporated the exclusionary rule against the States. Mapp v. Ohio , 367 U. S. 643, 655 (1961). It announced a Sixth Amendment right to a public defender. Gideon v. Wainwright , 372 U. S. 335, 339–340, 342 (1963). It barred the government from speaking to the defendant outside defense counsel’s presence. Massiah v. United States , 377 U. S. 201, 204–206 (1964). And it announced a new script governing police interrogations. Miranda v. Arizona , 384 U. S. 436, 467–477 (1966). This proliferation of new federal procedural rights, combined with a federal post-conviction mechanism that functioned like an ordinary appeal, soon yielded a giant haystack of habeas petitions.¶

For years, this Court struggled to devise rules for sorting the hay from the needles. Its approach varied wildly and inconsistently over time. In a few cases, the Court held a new rule of criminal procedure should not apply retroactively to settled convictions. Tehan v. United States ex. rel. Shott , 382 U. S. 406, 409, n. 3, 419 (1966); Linkletter v. Walker , 381 U. S. 618, 622, 639–640 (1965). On occasion, though, it extended the benefit of a new rule to litigants with final criminal judgments—sometimes only to the named petitioner in this Court, Jackson v. Denno , 378 U. S. 368, 377 (1964), other times to everyone laboring under a final judgment, McNerlin v. Denno , 378 U. S. 575, 575 (1964) ( per curiam ). Justice Harlan called these divergent results “an extraordinary collection of rules.” Desist v. United States , 394 U. S. 244, 256–257 (1969) (Harlan, J., dissenting). He even wondered whether they could “properly be considered the legitimate products of a court of law.” Id. , at 259.¶

III¶

It was only in this world that Teague ’s question about the retroactive application of new “watershed” rules of criminal procedure could even begin to make sense. In an effort to bring some coherence to the area, the Court refocused its attention on the terms of the federal habeas statute. The statute provides that “writs of habeas corpus may be granted”—not that they must be granted. 28 U. S. C. § 2241(a) (emphasis added); see also id. § 2243. The law thus invests federal courts with equitable discretion to decide whether to issue the writ or to provide a remedy. Withrow v. Williams , 507 U. S. 680, 716 (1993) (Scalia, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). 3¶

Exercising this remedial discretion, the Court began to develop doctrines aimed at returning the Great Writ closer to its historic office. It decided that some claims are not cognizable on federal habeas review if state courts provide a mechanism for review. Stone v. Powell , 428 U. S. 465, 494–495 (1976). It established procedural default rules to prevent habeas petitioners from evading independent and adequate state law grounds for sustaining their convictions. Wainwright v. Sykes , 433 U. S. 72, 86–87 (1977). It crafted a heightened harmless error standard, calibrated to reflect the finality interests at stake in the post-conviction context. Brecht v. Abrahamson , 507 U. S. 619, 633–638 (1993). And¶

------¶

3 That is how this Court reads nearly identical text in the Declaratory Judgment Act (DJA). Because the DJA says federal courts “ ‘ may declare the rights and other legal relations of any interested party,’ ” district courts “possess discretion” to award declaratory relief. Wilton v. Seven Falls Co. , 515 U. S. 277, 282, 286 (1995).¶

it applied abuse-of-the-writ rules to prevent an endless cycle of petition and re-petition by prisoners with nothing but time on their hands. McCleskey v. Zant , 499 U. S. 467, 489493 (1991).¶

Chief among these new-but-old developments was Teague . Drawing on the historic role of habeas, the Court held that newly recognized rules of criminal procedure should not normally apply to cases “which have become final.” 489 U. S., at 304–310. 4 Hard experience since Brown had reminded the Court that finality, “the idea that at some point a criminal conviction reaches an end, a conclusion, a termination, ‘is essential to the operation of our criminal justice system.'' Prost v. Anderson , 636 F. 3d 578, 582 (CA10 2011). One might “always continue to ask” whether a particular judgment was “correct.” P. Bator, Finality in Criminal Law and Federal Habeas Corpus for State Prisoners, 76 Harv. L. Rev. 441, 446–448 (1963). But if the rule of law means anything, it means the final result of proceedings in courts of competent jurisdiction establishes what is correct “in the eyes of the law.” Herrera v. Collins , 506 U. S. 390, 399–400 (1993). 5¶

------¶

4 Although the lead opinion in Teague garnered only a plurality, a majority of the Court adopted the plurality’s rule later that same year in Penry v. Lynaugh , 492 U. S. 302, 313 (1989).¶

5 Apparently believing our judge-made doctrines did not go far enough, Congress added further “new restrictions” of its own in the Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996 (AEDPA). Felker v. Turpin , 518 U. S. 651, 664 (1996). But AEDPA creates only additional conditions to relief; it did not do away with the discretion afforded courts in the habeas statute, or the various rules this Court has formulated in the exercise of that discretion. As this Court has (unanimously) explained, “AEDPA did not codify Teague ” and the one “neither abrogates [n]or qualifies the other.” Greene v. Fisher , 565 U. S. 34, 39 (2011). That is why Teague ’s retroactivity bar operates “in addition” to AEDPA’s relitigation bar in 28 U. S. C. § 2254(d). Horn v. Banks , 536 U. S. 266, 272 (2002) ( per curiam ). Because a retroactivity bar and a relitigation bar both pose threshold barriers, JUSTICE THOMAS’s concurrence highlights how AEDPA provides¶

IV¶

While Teague did much to return the writ to its original station, it didn’t quite complete the journey. After insisting that final judgments cannot be reopened as a “general rule,” Teague left some wiggle room. It added that some new rules of criminal procedure might yet apply retroactively if they had “watershed” significance. 489 U. S., at 311. Why? Because ''time and growth in social capacity, as well as judicial perceptions,'' might ''alter our understanding of the bedrock procedural elements ’ ” necessary to satisfy notions of “ ‘fairness.’ ” Ibid. To help the world know what a watershed rule might look like, the Court described it in various ways—“bedrock,” “fundamental,” “central,” an “absolute prerequisite.” Id. , at 311–314. A rule fitting that bill, Teague said, would do two things: (1) “ ‘significantly improve'' existing procedures for determining factual guilt or innocence and (2) “implicate the fundamental fairness of the trial.” Id. , at 312–313. 6¶

But all these words have yielded nothing. In more than three decades since Teague , not a single new rule of criminal procedure has satisfied its “watershed” test. Ante , at 10–15. Nor is it as if we have lacked promising candidates.¶

------¶

an additional reason why the Fifth Circuit correctly denied a certificate of appealability here. Ante, at 5 (concurring opinion); see Miller-El v. Cockrell , 537 U. S. 322, 350 (2003) (Scalia, J., concurring).¶

6 Teague also discussed an exception to the finality rule for certain “substantive rules.” Because the parties agree that Ramos involved only a new rule of criminal procedure, little need be said about Teague ’s “substantive rule” exception. But it is worth noting that substantive rules, which place certain conduct “ ‘beyond the power of the criminal law-making authority to prescribe,’ ” id. , at 307, bear at least some resemblance to this Court’s early cases finding a lack of jurisdiction over a defendant or an offense. See Ex parte Siebold , 100 U. S. (10 Otto), at 376; Ex parte Parks , 93 U. S. (3 Otto), at 20–21. Perhaps this aspect of Teague can be understood as accurately invoking the jurisdictional exception to the finality rule; perhaps not. See Brown , 344 U. S., at 533, n. 4 (Jackson, J., concurring in result). But that question is for another day.¶

This Court has refused “watershed” status to new rules that seek to ensure death penalty decisions are made by jurors rather than judges. See Schriro v. Summerlin , 542 U. S. 348 (2004) (denying watershed status to Ring v. Arizona , 536 U. S. 584 (2002)). New rules designed to ensure race discrimination plays no role in jury selection met the same fate even before Teague . See Allen v. Hardy , 478 U. S. 255 (1986) ( per curiam ) (denying retroactive application to Batson v. Kentucky , 476 U. S. 79 (1986)). Rules that sought to realign our jurisprudence with the original meaning of the Sixth Amendment’s Confrontation Clause have failed to qualify too. See Whorton v. Bockting , 549 U. S. 406 (2007) (denying watershed status to Crawford v. Washington , 541 U. S. 36 (2004)).¶

The Court’s decision today retraces this familiar path. It denies “watershed” status to Ramos v. Louisiana , 590 U. S. ___ (2020), a decision that (like Crawford ) returned us to the original meaning of the Sixth Amendment—and one that (like Ring and Batson ) concerns a vital aspect of the jury trial right. The Court explains why this result necessarily follows from our postTeague precedents: If so many other highly consequential rulings have failed to clear Teague ’s bar, it’s hard to see how Ramos might. One could even say that any other result would defy this Court’s recent precedents. Ante , at 14.¶

At the same time, though, one might also say these precedents illustrate how mystifying the whole Teague project has been from its inception. If Teague only prohibits the retroactive application of new rules of criminal procedure, after all, it’s not exactly obvious why that prohibition applies to cases like Crawford or Ramos . Both decisions sought to realign this Court’s decisions with the original meaning of the Sixth Amendment; in that sense, the rights they recognized were anything but new. And to the extent Teague asks whether a new rule is “fundamental” or “bedrock,” it’s hard to see how rights originally memorialized in the Constitution could fail to qualify. Certainly, this Court is in no position to second-guess the judgment of those who wrote and ratified the Constitution. Surely, too, many of the other rules of criminal procedure this Court has found less than “fundamental” since Teague seem anything but that to those whose lives they affect. Nor is it only Teague ’s results that mystify. The test itself has been fraught with contradictions from the start. It asks litigants to be on the lookout for new procedural protections ''implicit in the concept of ordered liberty.'' Beard v. Banks , 542 U. S. 406, 417 (2004). At the same time, we have been told, the fact that “a new procedural rule is ‘fundamental’ in some abstract sense is not enough.” Summerlin , 542 U. S., at 352.¶

For me, it’s here where the history canvassed above matters. This Court’s (in)activity since Teague only begins to make sense when viewed against the backdrop of the traditional rule that old judgments are impervious to new challenges. Yes, this Court’s decisions should apply to all cases pending in trial courts and on direct appeal. But they should not apply retroactively in habeas. The reason has nothing to do with whether Members of this Court happen to think the rules they announce are “new” in some sense or insufficiently “fundamental” in another. It’s simpler than that: The writ of habeas corpus does not authorize federal courts to reopen a judgment issued by a court of competent of jurisdiction once it has become final. Supra , at 2–4.¶

It’s here, too, where today’s decision makes its real contribution. If Teague pointed us back in the direction of the traditional rule, each of the cases that has followed in its wake has edged us, step-by-step, closer still. Today’s decision advances the progress by making express what has long been barely implicit: The “watershed” exception for new rules of criminal procedure is no exception at all. Ante , at 15. Not only does this development do much to honor the traditional understanding of habeas review and the great weight of this Court’s precedents throughout its history. It also allows us to retire a test that was unknown in law until 1989 and whose contours remain unknowable decades later. It frees this Court from the dreary task of needing to concoct reasons to denigrate the importance of obviously important rules like those discussed in Ramos , Ring , Batson , and Crawford , which affect the lives and liberty of countless individuals. It does away with the strange business of having to repackage old rules as new ones. And it eliminates the need for litigants and lower courts to endure years of protracted litigation—tangling with a contradictory test and seemingly inexplicable precedents—all sure to achieve nothing. The Court’s candor today is admirableand correct. 7¶

With these observations, I am pleased to join the Court’s opinion. My vote in similar cases to come will, I hope, “be guided as nearly as [possible] by the principles set forth herein.” Brown , 344 U. S., at 548 (Jackson, J., concurring in result).¶

------¶

7 The dissent criticizes today’s decision as a departure from modern habeas precedent. Post , at 2; post , at 3, n. 2; post , at 12–13. But the dissent’s history is selective. The dissent champions decisions from the 1950s, ’60s, and ’70s. But it disregards how those decisions departed from a century of this Court’s precedents and the common law before that. Supra , at 5–8. At the same time, the dissent’s account overlooks this Court’s precedents refusing to afford retroactive application in every case since the 1980s. Post , at 10–11; post , at 12, n. 7. The dissent may prefer decisions within a particular 30-year window. But it is too much to say this preference is required to “[r]espect[] stare decisis .” Post , at 1, n. 1.¶