Why I Agree Both with Smith and with RFRA:

The Religious Freedom Restoration Act, enacted in 1993, gave religious objectors a presumptive right to exemption from generally applicable laws that violate their religious beliefs — the sort of right that the Court in Employment Division v. Smith (1990) held that they didn’t have. Tomorrow, the Court is going to hear Gonzales v. O Centro Espirita Beneficiente Uniao do Vegetal, in which the Justices are likely to take their first crack at interpreting the scope of RFRA. As one of the very few people who support both RFRA (as applied to federal law) and Smith, the case that RFRA rejected, I thought I’d say a few words about my unusual perspective.

NOTE: For background on the Smith/RFRA issue, see here; the remainder of this post assumes a knowledge of that subject.

The trouble with the Sherbert-era constitutional exemption model is that it requires courts to decided deeply and inevitably contested normative and empirical issues -- and not just as to narrow areas such as free speech or searches and seizures, but potentially as to every government regulatory action (and many government funding actions). Recall that the Free Exercise Clause applies equally to well-settled, traditional religious beliefs and idiosyncratic (but sincerely held) ones (see Thomas v. Review Bd. (1981)). Thus, one can have religious objections to bans on housing discrimination, assisted suicide, the duty to testify, traffic laws, taxes, and a vast range of other actions. (For some cites, see here.) Therefore, courts will have to decide: Is housing discrimination based on marital status or sexual orientation "really wrong" (in the sense that, say, a trespass is a wrong), so that every instance of such discrimination could be barred? Is applying a hoasca, peyote, or marijuana ban across the board really necessary to prevent leakage from sacramental uses to recreational uses? Are such recreational uses really harmful?

Courts would therefore be routinely resolving -- as a constitutional matter -- basic questions of drug policy, civil rights policy, tax enforcement policy, and a wide range of other subjects, applying their moral and pragmatic judgments to trump the legislative judgment. If the Constitution clearly demanded such a role for judges, then courts would have no choice but to do this. But if the text and original meaning are at least in equipoise (and I think that Justice Scalia's opinion in Boerne makes a strong case that they are at least in equipoise, and likely against the constitutional exemption model, though see O'Connor's responses in her Boerne opinion), that's a strong argument against a constitutional exemption model, and in favor of Smith.

But RFRA, despite its name and its findings, doesn't precisely "restore" the Sherbert regime. It can't, because (1) it's just a statute that creates a statutory right. It therefore doesn't give courts the final call about whether a religious exemption ought to be carved out; if courts create such an exemption and Congress disapproves of it, Congress can always repeal it (for instance, by providing that RFRA doesn't apply to drug laws). And beyond this, (2) courts' creation of religious exemptions under the RFRA regime, unlike the Sherbert regime, won't be a matter of courts' trumping the legislature's moral and pragmatic judgments; rather, courts would be implementing the legislative judgment behind RFRA, following Congress's instructions rather than superseding them.

What's more, this sort of system in which courts make the first decision about certain moral and pragmatic questions, but the legislature can step in and make a contrary decision, is very close to the courts' traditional common-law-making role. Most tort, contract, property, evidence, and even criminal law was originally made by courts, often courts applying their own moral and pragmatic judgments. The legislatures then generally codified much (though not all) of this law, and sometimes changed in the process. But it is the joint creation of courts' and legislatures' judgments.

And even after legislatures codify certain bodies of law, they sometimes return certain questions (especially defenses) to courts' judgment -- again, later correctable by the legislature if the legislature disagrees with the courts. Thus, when Congress codified the Federal Rules of Evidence, it expressly left it to courts to craft evidentiary privileges (which is a sort of defense against a duty to testify). When Congress enacted the Copyright Act of 1976, it left it to courts to further develop fair use doctrine (again, a defense against a copyright claim). Courts have interpreted the Sherman Act, the foundation of our antitrust law, as leaving it to courts to decide which restraints of trade are barred and which are permitted, so that much modern antitrust law is in practice made by courts but subject to legislative override.

RFRA does something very similar, it seems to me: It doesn't restore the constitutional exemption model of Sherbert -- because, just being a statute, it can't restore such a model. Rather, it creates a "common-law exemption model," under which courts take the lead in carving out religious exemptions, but Congress (and, under state RFRAs, state legislatures) can repeal such exemptions if it comes to a different moral and practical conclusion than the courts did.

So, the bottom line:

(1) The "courts shouldn't trump the legislature's moral and practical judgment" (at least as to the broad range of government regulations, rather than the rather narrow set of regulations that restrict speech, allow searches and seizures, and the like) argument doesn't apply to RFRA. Even if, as Smith holds, courts shouldn't be able to impose their own views as a final constitutional matter, the common law tradition provides ample support for their creating defenses subject to legislative override -- having the first word, rather than the last. And this is especially so given that Congress has expressly delegated this power to the courts, so that they are following the legislative will by carving out exemptions, rather than simply trumping it.

(2) Courts also shouldn't be bashful about carving out such exemptions, if in their judgment the government interest isn't really compelling, or if in their judgment carving out the exemption won't much undermine the interest. They can just follow their best understanding of the strict scrutiny test, recognizing that if Congress disagrees with them, Congress can step in and repeal any exemption that (in Congress's view) was wrongly created.

In any event, this is my very sketchy summary of an argument I develop at much greater length here. For a deeper explanation for why I take the Smith antidiscrimination view of the Free Exercise Clause but take a substantive-liberty view of some other constitutional provisions, see here. For more background on RFRA, Smith, and Sherbert, see here.

Related Posts (on one page):

  1. Don't Expect A Showdown:
  2. Why I Agree Both with Smith and with RFRA:
  3. Some Background on Religious Exemption Law,
flaime:
But what happens when someone tries to take the RFRA to it's logical extreme by, say, refusing to rent to someone of a different religious background? Doesn't the RFRA allow this while Smith prohibits it?
10.31.2005 2:58pm
flaime:
Or do I misunderstand the limits of the RFRA?
10.31.2005 3:00pm
Plainsman (mail):
Professor Volokh:

Why would it be significantly harder or more intrusive for courts to adjudicate 1st Am. Free Exercise Clause claims, which seek to exempt conduct from regulation on the ground that the conduct is an expression of religious beliefs, than it is for courts to adjudicate 1st Am. Free Speech Clause "expressive conduct" claims, which seek to exempt conduct from regulation on the ground that the conduct is an expression of other sorts of beliefs?

For as you know, courts do the latter -- they adjudicate expressive conduct claims under the Free Speech Clause -- all the time. Such claims receive intermediate scrutiny, and reasonable regulations are regularly upheld. Why shouldn't the Free Exercise Clause (which is part of the very same amendment) be handled in the same way? Is it really clear that the universe of possible Free Exercise conduct claims is somehow dramatically larger and/or less tractable than the universe of possible Free Speech conduct claims? It does not seem so. Both doctrines appear to authorize a broad range of possible claims. If the one is sanctioned by the courts, the other should be.

I have always considered the foregoing to be a decisive objection to Justice Scalia's majority opinion in Smith. Perhaps you will convince me otherwise.
10.31.2005 3:17pm
Larry Faria (mail):
Two phrases bother me. One is the reference to the "courts' traditional common-law-making role", the other is "courts ... implementing the legislative judgement". The first seems to make the courts a legislative partner, and the second seems to put the courts into executive territory. Where does the separation of powers come in?
10.31.2005 3:53pm
Eugene Volokh (www):
Plainsman: Here's how I answer this in my article:
The only constitutional principle that even approaches such a regime is the expressive conduct doctrine, which in some formulations supposedly does protect otherwise regulable conduct, even conduct that harms others in certain ways unrelated to the conduct's communicative impact, when it's engaged in for expressive reasons.

But even this doctrine is probably considerably narrower than its broadest statements: The Court has at times suggested that it might apply not to all conduct, but only to conduct that is commonly used as expression. And in any event, the protection this doctrine offers is a fairly weak form of intermediate scrutiny, which has proven quite deferential to government interests, and not the strict scrutiny promised by the Sherbert-era religious exemption cases. If expressive conduct is constitutionally allowed to inflict harm on others, these harms can at most be modest indeed; the prevention of even aesthetic harms, such as the "visual blight" created by billboards, has often been found sufficient to justify restrictions. If this very weak scrutiny were transplanted to religious exemption claims, it would deny exemptions in virtually all the hotly disputed cases.
10.31.2005 4:15pm
Plainsman (mail):
Prof. Volokh:

Thanks for the reply. That's a reasonable take, and I'm not surprised to learn you anticipated my point in your article. In practical terms, it doesn't sound like we're too far apart. I agree that under intermediate scrutiny, most (though perhaps not "virtually all") of "the hotly disputed cases" would result in a denial of the exemption.

However, since doctrinal categories do matter, I must stick to my point. It is anomalous that 1st Am. Free Speech claims for conduct exemptions should receive intermediate scrutiny, yet (under current law) 1st Am. Free Exercise claims for conduct exemptions receive only rational basis scrutiny. The parallel is too close; such a divergence makes little sense.

I look forward to reading your article this evening.
10.31.2005 5:23pm
Matt Tievsky (mail):
Professor Volokh:

I am going to see the arguments in UDV tomorrow morning. Before I go, do you have any thoughts on how the case will/should be decided?
10.31.2005 6:22pm
Defending the Indefensible:
To the extent that the UDV practitioners are held to be practicing a sincerely held faith, without impinging upon others, denial of their exercise is condemnation of their faith.

The jurisprudential wisdom of doing so may seem straightforward. Prohibition laws are non-discriminatory with respect to any faith (albeit of rather questionable constitutional provenance absent an amendment as was deemed necessary to ban alcohol).

The consequence of such a judgment, however, should be appreciated. If you condemn a man's faith, he will not have faith in you. If you tell a woman to choose between God and the state, she will not worship the state.

Consider well, if you want respect for your institutions, you must respect the institutions of others, excepting those which do harm, requiring protection.
10.31.2005 9:39pm