Trump v. United States

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

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No. 23–939

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DONALD J. TRUMP, PETITIONER v. UNITED STATES

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the district of columbia circuit

 Justice Sotomayor, with whom Justice Kagan and Justice Jackson join, dissenting.

 Today’s decision to grant former Presidents criminal immunity reshapes the institution of the Presidency. It makes a mockery of the principle, foundational to our Constitution and system of Government, that no man is above the law. Relying on little more than its own misguided wisdom about the need for “bold and unhesitating action” by the President, ante, at 3, 13, the Court gives former President Trump all the immunity he asked for and more. Because our Constitution does not shield a former President from answering for criminal and treasonous acts, I dissent.

I

 The indictment paints a stark portrait of a President desperate to stay in power.

 In the weeks leading up to January 6, 2021, then- President Trump allegedly “spread lies that there had been outcome-determinative fraud in the election and that he had actually won,” App. 181, Indictment ¶2, despite being “notified repeatedly” by his closest advisers “that his claims were untrue,” id., at 188, ¶11.

 When dozens of courts swiftly rejected these claims, Trump allegedly “pushed officials in certain states to ignore the popular vote; disenfranchise millions of voters; dismiss  legitimate electors; and ultimately, cause the ascertainment of and voting by illegitimate electors” in his favor. Id., at 185–186, ¶10(a). It is alleged that he went so far as to threaten one state election official with criminal prosecution if the official did not “ ‘find’ 11,780 votes” Trump needed to change the election result in that state. Id., at 202, ¶31(f ). When state officials repeatedly declined to act outside their legal authority and alter their state election processes, Trump and his co-conspirators purportedly developed a plan to disrupt and displace the legitimate election certification process by organizing fraudulent slates of electors. See id., at 208–209, ¶¶53–54.

 As the date of the certification proceeding neared, Trump allegedly also sought to “use the power and authority of the Justice Department” to bolster his knowingly false claims of election fraud by initiating “sham election crime investigations” and sending official letters “falsely claim[ing] that the Justice Department had identified significant concerns that may have impacted the election outcome” while “falsely present[ing] the fraudulent electors as a valid alternative to the legitimate electors.” Id., at 186–187, ¶10(c). When the Department refused to do as he asked, Trump turned to the Vice President. Initially, he sought to persuade the Vice President “to use his ceremonial role at the January 6 certification proceeding to fraudulently alter the election results.” Id., at 187, ¶10(d). When persuasion failed, he purportedly “attempted to use a crowd of supporters that he had gathered in Washington, D. C., to pressure the Vice President to fraudulently alter the election results.” Id., at 221, ¶86.

 Speaking to that crowd on January 6, Trump “falsely claimed that, based on fraud, the Vice President could alter the outcome of the election results.” Id., at 229, ¶104(a). When this crowd then “violently attacked the Capitol and halted the proceeding,” id., at 188, ¶10(e), Trump allegedly  delayed in taking any step to rein in the chaos he had unleashed. Instead, in a last desperate ploy to hold onto power, he allegedly “attempted to exploit the violence and chaos at the Capitol” by pressuring lawmakers to delay the certification of the election and ultimately declare him the winner. Id., at 233, ¶119. That is the backdrop against which this case comes to the Court.

II

 The Court now confronts a question it has never had to answer in the Nation’s history: Whether a former President enjoys immunity from federal criminal prosecution. The majority thinks he should, and so it invents an atextual, ahistorical, and unjustifiable immunity that puts the President above the law.

 The majority makes three moves that, in effect, completely insulate Presidents from criminal liability. First, the majority creates absolute immunity for the President’s exercise of “core constitutional powers.” Ante, at 6. This holding is unnecessary on the facts of the indictment, and the majority’s attempt to apply it to the facts expands the concept of core powers beyond any recognizable bounds. In any event, it is quickly eclipsed by the second move, which is to create expansive immunity for all “official act[s].” Ante, at 14. Whether described as presumptive or absolute, under the majority’s rule, a President’s use of any official power for any purpose, even the most corrupt, is immune from prosecution. That is just as bad as it sounds, and it is baseless. Finally, the majority declares that evidence concerning acts for which the President is immune can play no role in any criminal prosecution against him. See ante, at 30–32. That holding, which will prevent the Government from using a President’s official acts to prove knowledge or intent in prosecuting private offenses, is nonsensical.

 Argument by argument, the majority invents immunity  through brute force. Under scrutiny, its arguments crumble. To start, the majority’s broad “official acts” immunity is inconsistent with text, history, and established understandings of the President’s role. See Part III, infra. Moreover, it is deeply wrong, even on its own functionalist terms. See Part IV, infra. Next, the majority’s “core” immunity is both unnecessary and misguided. See Part V, infra. Furthermore, the majority’s illogical evidentiary holding is unprecedented. See Part VI, infra. Finally, this majority’s project will have disastrous consequences for the Presidency and for our democracy. See Part VII, infra.

III

 The main takeaway of today’s decision is that all of a President’s official acts, defined without regard to motive or intent, are entitled to immunity that is “at least . . . presumptive,” and quite possibly “absolute.” Ante, at 14. Whenever the President wields the enormous power of his office, the majority says, the criminal law (at least presumptively) cannot touch him. This official-acts immunity has “no firm grounding in constitutional text, history, or precedent.” Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, 597 U. S. 215, 280 (2022). Indeed, those “standard grounds for constitutional decisionmaking,” id., at 279, all point in the opposite direction. No matter how you look at it, the majority’s official-acts immunity is utterly indefensible.

A

 The majority calls for a “careful assessment of the scope of Presidential power under the Constitution.” Ante, at 5. For the majority, that “careful assessment” does not involve the Constitution’s text. I would start there.

 The Constitution’s text contains no provision for immunity from criminal prosecution for former Presidents. Of course, “the silence of the Constitution on this score is not  dispositive.” United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S. 683, 706, n. 16 (1974). Insofar as the majority rails against the notion that a “ ‘specific textual basis’ ” is required, ante, at 37 (quoting Nixon v. Fitzgerald, 457 U. S. 731, 750, n. 31 (1982)), it is attacking an argument that has not been made here. The omission in the text of the Constitution is worth noting, however, for at least three reasons.

 First, the Framers clearly knew how to provide for immunity from prosecution. They did provide a narrow immunity for legislators in the Speech or Debate Clause. See Art. I, §6, cl. 1 (“Senators and Representatives . . . shall in all Cases, except Treason, Felony and Breach of the Peace, be privileged from Arrest during their Attendance at the Session of their respective Houses, and in going to and returning from the same; and for any Speech or Debate in either House, they shall not be questioned in any other Place”). They did not extend the same or similar immunity to Presidents.

 Second, “some state constitutions at the time of the Framing specifically provided ‘express criminal immunities’ to sitting governors.” Brief for Scholars of Constitutional Law as Amici Curiae 4 (quoting S. Prakash, Prosecuting and Punishing Our Presidents, 100 Tex. L. Rev. 55, 69 (2021)). The Framers chose not to include similar language in the Constitution to immunize the President. If the Framers “had wanted to create some constitutional privilege to shield the President . . . from criminal indictment,” they could have done so. Memorandum from R. Rotunda to K. Starr re: Indictability of the President 18 (May 13, 1998). They did not.

 Third, insofar as the Constitution does speak to this question, it actually contemplates some form of criminal liability for former Presidents. The majority correctly rejects Trump’s argument that a former President cannot be prosecuted unless he has been impeached by the House and convicted by the Senate for the same conduct. See ante, at 32– 34; Part IV–C, infra. The majority ignores, however, that the Impeachment Judgment Clause cuts against its own position. That Clause presumes the availability of criminal process as a backstop by establishing that an official impeached and convicted by the Senate “shall nevertheless be liable and subject to Indictment, Trial, Judgment and Punishment, according to Law.” Art. I, §3, cl. 7 (emphasis added). That Clause clearly contemplates that a former President may be subject to criminal prosecution for the same conduct that resulted (or could have resulted) in an impeachment judgment—including conduct such as “Bribery,” Art. II, §4, which implicates official acts almost by definition.¹

B

 Aware of its lack of textual support, the majority points out that this Court has “recognized Presidential immunities and privileges ‘rooted in the constitutional tradition of the separation of powers and supported by our history.’ ” Ante, at 10 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 749). That is true, as far as it goes. Nothing in our history, however, supports the majority’s entirely novel immunity from criminal prosecution for official acts.

 The historical evidence that exists on Presidential immunity from criminal prosecution cuts decisively against it. For instance, Alexander Hamilton wrote that former Presidents would be “liable to prosecution and punishment in the ordinary course of law.” The Federalist No. 69, p. 452 (J. Harv. Lib. ed. 2009). For Hamilton, that was an important distinction between “the king of Great Britain,” who was “sacred and inviolable,” and the “President of the United States,” who “would be amenable to personal punishment  and disgrace.” Id., at 458. In contrast to the king, the President should be subject to “personal responsibility” for his actions, “stand[ing] upon no better ground than a governor of New York, and upon worse ground than the governors of Maryland and Delaware,” whose State Constitutions gave them some immunity. Id., at 452.

 At the Constitutional Convention, James Madison, who was aware that some state constitutions provided governors immunity, proposed that the Convention “conside[r ] what privileges ought to be allowed to the Executive.” 2 Records of the Federal Convention of 1787, p. 503 (M. Farrand ed. 1911). There is no record of any such discussion. Ibid. Delegate Charles Pinckney later explained that “[t]he Convention which formed the Constitution well knew” that “no subject had been more abused than privilege,” and so it “determined to . . . limi[t] privilege to what was necessary, and no more.” 3 id., at 385. “No privilege . . . was intended for [the] Executive.” Ibid.²

 Other commentators around the time of the Founding observed that federal officials had no immunity from prosecution, drawing no exception for the President. James Wilson recognized that federal officers who use their official powers to commit crimes “may be tried by their country; and if their criminality is established, the law will punish. A grand jury may present, a petty jury may convict, and the judges will pronounce the punishment.” 2 Debates on the Constitution 177 (J. Elliot ed. 1836). A few decades later, Justice Story evinced the same understanding. He explained that, when  a federal official commits a crime in office, “it is indispensable, that provision should be made, that the common tribunals of justice should be at liberty to entertain jurisdiction of the offence, for the purpose of inflicting, the common punishment applicable to unofficial offenders.” 2 Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States §780,  pp. 250–251 (1833). Without a criminal trial, he explained, “the grossest official offenders might escape without any substantial punishment, even for crimes, which would subject their fellow citizens to capital punishment.” Id., at 251.

 This historical evidence reinforces that, from the very beginning, the presumption in this Nation has always been that no man is free to flout the criminal law. The majority fails to recognize or grapple with the lack of historical evidence for its new immunity. With nothing on its side of the ledger, the most the majority can do is claim that the historical evidence is a wash. See ante, at 38–39. It claims that the Court previously has described the “relevant historical evidence on the question of Presidential immunity” as “ ‘fragmentary’ ” and not worthy of consideration. Ante, at 38 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 752, n. 31). Yet the Court has described only the evidence regarding “the President’s immunity from damages liability” as “fragmentary.” Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 751–752, n. 31 (emphasis added). Moreover, far from dismissing that evidence as irrelevant, the Fitzgerald Court was careful to note that “[t]he best historical evidence clearly support[ed]” the immunity from damages liability that it recognized, and it relied in part on that historical evidence to overcome the lack of any textual basis for its immunity. Id., at 152, n. 31. The majority ignores this reliance. It seems history matters to this Court only when it is convenient. See, e.g., New York State Rifle & Pistol Assn., Inc. v. Bruen, 597 U. S. 1 (2022); Dobbs, 597 U. S. 215.

 C

 Our country’s history also points to an established understanding, shared by both Presidents and the Justice Department, that former Presidents are answerable to the criminal law for their official acts. Cf. Chiafalo v. Washington, 591 U. S. 578, 592–593 (2020) (“ ‘Long settled and established practice’ may have ‘great weight in a proper interpretation of constitutional provisions’ ” (quoting The Pocket Veto Case, 279 U. S. 655, 689 (1929))). Consider Watergate, for example. After the Watergate tapes revealed President Nixon’s misuse of official power to obstruct the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s investigation of the Watergate burglary, President Ford pardoned Nixon. Both Ford’s pardon and Nixon’s acceptance of the pardon necessarily “rested on the understanding that the former President faced potential criminal liability.” Brief for United States 15; see also Public Papers of the Presidents, Gerald R. Ford, Vol. 1, Sept. 8, 1974, p. 103 (1975) (granting former President Nixon a “full, free, and absolute pardon . . . for all offenses against the United States which he . . . has committed or may have committed or taken part in during” his Presidency); R. Nixon, Statement by Former President Richard Nixon to P. Buchen, Counsel to President Ford,  p. 1 (Sept. 8, 1974) (accepting “full and absolute pardon for any charges which might be brought against me for actions taken during the time I was President of the United States”).

 Subsequent special counsel and independent counsel investigations have also operated on the assumption that the Government can criminally prosecute former Presidents for their official acts, where they violate the criminal law. See, e.g., 1 L. Walsh, Final Report of the Independent Counsel for Iran/Contra Matters: Investigations and Prosecutions 445 (1993) (“[B]ecause a President, and certainly a past President, is subject to prosecution . . . the conduct of Pres ident Reagan in the Iran/contra matter was reviewed by Independent Counsel against the applicable statutes. It was concluded that [his] conduct fell well short of criminality which could be successfully prosecuted”).

 Indeed, Trump’s own lawyers during his second impeachment trial assured Senators that declining to impeach Trump for his conduct related to January 6 would not leave him “in any way above the law.” 2 Proceedings of the U. S. Senate in the Impeachment Trial of Donald John Trump, S. Doc. 117–2, p. 144 (2021). They insisted that a former President “is like any other citizen and can be tried in a court of law.” Ibid.; see also 1 id., S. Doc. 117–3, at 339 (Trump’s impeachment counsel stating that “no former officeholder is immune” from the judicial process “for investigation, prosecution, and punishment”); id., at 322–323 (Trump’s impeachment counsel stating: “If my colleagues on this side of the Chamber actually think that President Trump committed a criminal offense . . . [a]fter he is out of office, you go and arrest him”). Now that Trump is facing criminal charges for those acts, though, the tune has changed. Being treated “like any other citizen” no longer seems so appealing.

 In sum, the majority today endorses an expansive vision of Presidential immunity that was never recognized by the Founders, any sitting President, the Executive Branch, or even President Trump’s lawyers, until now. Settled understandings of the Constitution are of little use to the majority in this case, and so it ignores them.

IV

A

 Setting aside this evidence, the majority announces that former Presidents are “absolute[ly],” or “at least . . . presumptive[ly],” immune from criminal prosecution for all of their official acts. Ante, at 14 (emphasis omitted). The majority purports to keep us in suspense as to whether this  immunity is absolute or presumptive, but it quickly gives up the game. It explains that, “[a]t a minimum, the President must . . . be immune from prosecution for an official act unless the Government can show that applying a criminal prohibition to that act would pose no ‘dangers of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch.’ ” Ibid. (emphasis added). No dangers, none at all. It is hard to imagine a criminal prosecution for a President’s official acts that would pose no dangers of intrusion on Presidential authority in the majority’s eyes. Nor should that be the standard. Surely some intrusions on the Executive may be “justified by an overriding need to promote objectives within the constitutional authority of Congress.” Nixon v. Administrator of General Services, 433 U. S. 425, 443 (1977). Other intrusions may be justified by the “primary constitutional duty of the Judicial Branch to do justice in criminal prosecutions.” United States v. Nixon, 418 U. S. 683, 707 (1974). According to the majority, however, any incursion on Executive power is too much. When presumptive immunity is this conclusive, the majority’s indecision as to “whether [official-acts] immunity must be absolute” or whether, instead, “presumptive immunity is sufficient,” ante, at 6, hardly matters.

 Maybe some future opinion of this Court will decide that presumptive immunity is “sufficient,” ibid., and replace the majority’s ironclad presumption with one that makes the difference between presumptive and absolute immunity meaningful. Today’s Court, however, has replaced a presumption of equality before the law with a presumption that the President is above the law for all of his official acts.

 Quick on the heels of announcing this astonishingly broad official-acts immunity, the majority assures us that a former President can still be prosecuted for “unofficial acts.” Ante, at 15. Of course he can. No one has questioned the ability to prosecute a former President for unofficial (other wise known as private) acts. Even Trump did not claim immunity for such acts and, as the majority acknowledges, such an immunity would be impossible to square with Clinton v. Jones, 520 U. S. 681 (1997). See ante, at 15. This unremarkable proposition is no real limit on today’s decision. It does not hide the majority’s embrace of the most far-reaching view of Presidential immunity on offer.

 In fact, the majority’s dividing line between “official” and “unofficial” conduct narrows the conduct considered “unofficial” almost to a nullity. It says that whenever the President acts in a way that is “ ‘not manifestly or palpably beyond [his] authority,’ ” he is taking official action. Ante, at 17 (quoting Blassingame v. Trump, 87 F. 4th 1, 13 (CADC 2023)). It then goes a step further: “In dividing official from unofficial conduct, courts may not inquire into the President’s motives.” Ante, at 18. It is one thing to say that motive is irrelevant to questions regarding the scope of civil liability, but it is quite another to make it irrelevant to questions regarding criminal liability. Under that rule, any use of official power for any purpose, even the most corrupt purpose indicated by objective evidence of the most corrupt motives and intent, remains official and immune. Under the majority’s test, if it can be called a test, the category of Presidential action that can be deemed “unofficial” is destined to be vanishingly small.

 Ultimately, the majority pays lip service to the idea that “[t]he President, charged with enforcing federal criminal laws, is not above them,” ante, at 13–14, but it then proceeds to place former Presidents beyond the reach of the federal criminal laws for any abuse of official power.

B

 So how does the majority get to its rule? With text, history, and established understanding all weighing against it, the majority claims just one arrow in its quiver: the balancing test in Nixon v. Fitzgerald, 457 U. S. 731 (1983). Yet  even that test cuts against it. The majority concludes that official-acts immunity “is required to safeguard the independence and effective functioning of the Executive Branch,” ante, at 14, by rejecting that Branch’s own protestations that such immunity is not at all required and would in fact be harmful, see Brief for United States 18–24, 29–30. In doing so, it decontextualizes Fitzgerald’s language, ignores important qualifications, and reaches a result that the Fitzgerald Court never would have countenanced.

 In Fitzgerald, plaintiff A. Ernest Fitzgerald sued then-former President Nixon for money damages. He claimed that, while in office, Nixon had been involved in unlawfully firing him from his government job. See 457 U. S., at 733–741. The question for the Court was whether a former President had immunity from such a civil suit. The Court explained that it was “settled law that the separation-of- powers doctrine does not bar every exercise of jurisdiction over the President of the United States.” Id., at 753–754. To determine whether a particular type of suit against a President (or former President) could be heard, a court “must balance the constitutional weight of the interest to be served against the dangers of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch.” Id., at 754. The Court explained that, “[w]hen judicial action is needed to serve broad public interests—as when the Court acts, not in derogation of the separation of powers, but to maintain their proper balance, or to vindicate the public interest in an ongoing criminal prosecution—the exercise of jurisdiction has been held warranted.” Ibid. (citations omitted).

 On the facts before it, the Court concluded that a “merely private suit for damages based on a President’s official acts” did not serve those interests. Ibid. The Court reasoned that the “visibility of [the President’s] office and the effect of his actions on countless people” made him an easy target for civil suits that “frequently could distract [him] from his  public duties.” Id., at 753. The public interest in such private civil suits, the Court concluded, was comparatively weak. See id., at 754, n. 37 (“[T]here is a lesser public interest in actions for civil damages than, for example, in criminal prosecutions”). Therefore, the Court held that a former President was immune from such suits. Ibid.

 In the context of a federal criminal prosecution of a former President, however, the danger to the functioning of the Executive Branch is much reduced. Further, as every member of the Fitzgerald Court acknowledged, see Part IV–B–2, infra, the public interest in a criminal prosecution is far weightier. Applying the Fitzgerald balancing here should yield the opposite result. Instead, the majority elides any difference between civil and criminal immunity, granting Trump the same immunity from criminal prosecution that Nixon enjoyed from an unlawful termination suit. That is plainly wrong.

1

 The majority relies almost entirely on its view of the danger of intrusion on the Executive Branch, to the exclusion of the other side of the balancing test. Its analysis rests on a questionable conception of the President as incapable of navigating the difficult decisions his job requires while staying within the bounds of the law. It also ignores the fact that he receives robust legal advice on the lawfulness of his actions.

 The majority says that the danger “of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch” posed by criminally prosecuting a former President for official conduct “is akin to, indeed greater than, what led us to recognize absolute Presidential immunity from civil damages liability—that the President would be chilled from taking the ‘bold and unhesitating action’ required of an independent Executive.” Ante, at 13 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 745). It is of course important that the President be able to  “ ‘ “deal fearlessly and impartially with” the duties of his office.’ ” Ante, at 10 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 752). If every action the President takes exposes him personally to vexatious private litigation, the possibility of hamstringing Presidential decisionmaking is very real. Yet there are many facets of criminal liability, which the majority discounts, that make it less likely to chill Presidential action than the threat of civil litigation.

 First, in terms of probability, the threat of criminal liability is much smaller. In Fitzgerald, the threat of vexatious civil litigation loomed large. The Court observed that, given the “visibility of his office and the effect of his actions on countless people, the President would be an easily identifiable target for suits for civil damages.” Id., at 753. Although “ ‘the effect of [the President’s] actions on countless people’ could result in untold numbers of private plaintiffs suing for damages based on any number of Presidential acts” in the civil context, the risk in the criminal context is “only that a former President may face one federal prosecution, in one jurisdiction, for each criminal offense allegedly committed while in office.” 2023 WL 8359833, *9 (DC, Dec. 1, 2023) (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 753). The majority’s bare assertion that the burden of exposure to federal criminal prosecution is more limiting to a President than the burden of exposure to civil suits does not make it true, and it is not persuasive.

 Second, federal criminal prosecutions require “robust procedural safeguards” not found in civil suits. 2023 WL 8359833, *10. The criminal justice system has layers of protections that “filter out insubstantial legal claims,” whereas civil litigation lacks “analogous checks.” Cheney v. United States Dist. Court for D. C., 542 U. S. 367, 386 (2004). To start, Justice Department policy requires scrupulous and impartial prosecution, founded on both the facts and the law. See generally Dept. of Justice, Justice Manual §9–27.000 (Principles of Federal Prosecution) (June 2023). The  grand jury provides an additional check on felony prosecutions, acting as a “buffer or referee between the Government and the people,” to ensure that the charges are well-founded. United States v. Williams, 504 U. S. 36, 47 (1992); see also Harlow v. Fitzgerald, 457 U. S. 800, 826, n. 6 (1982) (Burger, C. J., dissenting) (“[A] criminal prosecution cannot be commenced absent careful consideration by a grand jury at the request of a prosecutor; the same check is not present with respect to the commencement of civil suits in which advocates are subject to no realistic accountability”).

 If the prosecution makes it past the grand jury, then the former President still has all the protections our system provides to criminal defendants. If the former President has an argument that a particular statute is unconstitutional as applied to him, then he can move to dismiss the charges on that ground. Indeed, a former President is likely to have legal arguments that would be unavailable to the average criminal defendant. For example, he may be able to rely on a public-authority exception from particular criminal laws,³ or an advice-of-the-Attorney-General defense, see Tr. of Oral Arg. 107–108.⁴

  If the case nonetheless makes it to trial, the Government will bear the burden of proving every element of the alleged crime beyond a reasonable doubt to a unanimous jury of the former President’s fellow citizens. See United States v. Gaudin, 515 U. S. 506, 510 (1995). If the Government manages to overcome even that significant hurdle, then the former President can appeal his conviction, and the appellate review of his claims will be “ ‘particularly meticulous.’ ” Trump v. Vance, 591 U. S. 786, 809 (2020) (quoting Nixon, 418 U. S., at 702). He can ultimately seek this Court’s review, and if past practice (including in this case) is any indication, he will receive it.

 In light of these considerable protections, the majority’s fear that “ ‘bare allegations of malice,’ ” ante, at 18 (alteration omitted), would expose former Presidents to trial and conviction is unfounded. Bare allegations of malice would not make it out of the starting gate. Although a private civil action may be brought based on little more than “ ‘intense feelings,’ ” ante, at 11 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 752), a federal criminal prosecution is made of firmer stuff. Certainly there has been, on occasion, great feelings of animosity between incoming and outgoing Presidents over the course of our country’s history. Yet it took allegations as grave as those at the center of this case to have the first federal criminal prosecution of a former President. That restraint is telling.

 Third, because of longstanding interpretations by the Executive Branch, every sitting President has so far believed himself under the threat of criminal liability after his term in office and nevertheless boldly fulfilled the duties of his office. The majority insists that the threat of criminal sanctions is “more likely to distort Presidential decisionmaking than the potential payment of civil damages.” Ante, at 13. If that is right, then that distortion has been shaping Presidential decisionmaking since the earliest days of the Republic. Although it makes sense to avoid “diversion of the  President’s attention during the decisionmaking process” with “needless worry,” Clinton, 520 U. S., at 694, n. 19, one wonders why requiring some small amount of his attention (or his legal advisers’ attention) to go towards complying with federal criminal law is such a great burden. If the President follows the law that he must “take Care” to execute, Art. II, §3, he has not been rendered “ ‘unduly cautious,’ ” ante, at 10 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 752,  n. 32). Some amount of caution is necessary, after all. It is a far greater danger if the President feels empowered to violate federal criminal law, buoyed by the knowledge of future immunity. I am deeply troubled by the idea, inherent in the majority’s opinion, that our Nation loses something valuable when the President is forced to operate within the confines of federal criminal law.

 So what exactly is the majority worried about deterring when it expresses great concern for the “deterrent” effect that “the threat of trial, judgment, and imprisonment” would pose? Ante, at 13. It cannot possibly be the deterrence of acts that are truly criminal. Nor does it make sense for the majority to wring its hands over the possibility that Presidents might stop and think carefully before taking action that borders on criminal. Instead, the majority’s main concern could be that Presidents will be deterred from taking necessary and lawful action by the fear that their successors might pin them with a baseless criminal prosecution—a prosecution that would almost certainly be doomed to fail, if it even made it out of the starting gate. See ante, at 40. The Court should not have so little faith in this Nation’s Presidents. As this Court has said before in the context of criminal proceedings, “ ‘[t]he chance that now and then there may be found some timid soul who will take counsel of his fears and give way to their repressive power is too remote and shadowy to shape the course of justice.’ ” Nixon, 418 U. S., at 712, n. 20 (quoting Clark v. United States, 289 U. S. 1, 16 (1933)). The concern that countless  (and baseless) civil suits would hamper the Executive may have been justified in Fitzgerald, but a well-founded federal criminal prosecution poses no comparable danger to the functioning of the Executive Branch.

2

 At the same time, the public interest in a federal criminal prosecution of a former President is vastly greater than the public interest in a private individual’s civil suit. All nine Justices in Fitzgerald explicitly recognized that distinction. The five-Justice majority noted that there was a greater public interest “in criminal prosecutions” than in “actions for civil damages.” 457 U. S., at 754, n. 37. Chief Justice Burger’s concurrence accordingly emphasized that the majority’s immunity was “limited to civil damages claims,” rather than “criminal prosecution.” Id., at 759–760. The four dissenting Justices agreed that a “contention that the President is immune from criminal prosecution in the courts,” if ever made, would not “be credible.” Id., at 780 (White, J., dissenting). At the very least, the Fitzgerald Court did not expect that its balancing test would lead to the same outcome in the criminal context.

 The public’s interest in prosecution is transparent: a federal prosecutor herself acts on behalf of the United States. Even the majority acknowledges that the “[f]ederal criminal laws seek to redress ‘a wrong to the public’ as a whole, not just ‘a wrong to the individual,’ ” ante, at 13 (quoting Huntington v. Attrill, 146 U. S. 657, 668 (1892)), such that there is “a compelling ‘public interest in fair and effective law enforcement,’ ” ante, at 13 (quoting Vance, 591 U. S., at 808). Indeed, “our historic commitment to the rule of law” is “nowhere more profoundly manifest than in our view that . . . ‘guilt shall not escape or innocence suffer.’ ” Nixon, 418 U. S., at 708–709 (quoting Berger v. United States, 295 U. S. 78, 88 (1935)).

 The public interest in criminal prosecution is particularly  strong with regard to officials who are granted some degree of civil immunity because of their duties. It is in those cases where the public can see that officials exercising power under public trust remain on equal footing with their fellow citizens under the criminal law. See, e.g., O’Shea v. Littleton, 414 U. S. 488, 503 (1974) (“[W]e have never held that the performance of the duties of judicial, legislative, or executive officers, requires or contemplates the immunization of otherwise criminal deprivations of constitutional rights”); Dennis v. Sparks, 449 U. S. 24, 31 (1980) (“[J]udicial immunity was not designed to insulate the judiciary from all aspects of public accountability. Judges are immune from §1983 damages actions, but they are subject to criminal prosecutions as are other citizens”); Imbler v. Pachtman, 424 U. S. 409, 428–429 (1976) (“We emphasize that the [civil] immunity of prosecutors . . . does not leave the public powerless to deter misconduct or to punish that which occurs. This Court has never suggested that the policy considerations which compel civil immunity for certain governmental officials also place them beyond the reach of the criminal law. Even judges, cloaked with absolute civil immunity for centuries, could be punished criminally”).

 The public interest in the federal criminal prosecution of a former President alleged to have used the powers of his office to commit crimes may be greater still. “[T]he President . . . represent[s] all the voters in the Nation,” and his powers are given by the people under our Constitution. Anderson v. Celebrezze, 460 U. S. 780, 795 (1983). When Presidents use the powers of their office for personal gain or as part of a criminal scheme, every person in the country has an interest in that criminal prosecution. The majority overlooks that paramount interest entirely.

 Finally, the question of federal criminal immunity for a former President “involves a countervailing Article II consideration absent in Fitzgerald”: recognizing such an im munity “would frustrate the Executive Branch’s enforcement of the criminal law.” Brief for United States 19. The President is, of course, entrusted with “ ‘supervisory and policy responsibilities of utmost discretion and sensitivity.’ ” Ante at 10 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 750). One of the most important is “enforcement of federal law,” as “it is the President who is charged constitutionally to ‘take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed.’ ” Id., at 750 (quoting Art. II, §3). The majority seems to think that allowing former Presidents to escape accountability for breaking the law while disabling the current Executive from prosecuting such violations somehow respects the independence of the Executive. It does not. Rather, it diminishes that independence, exalting occupants of the office over the office itself. There is a twisted irony in saying, as the majority does, that the person charged with “tak[ing] Care that the Laws be faithfully executed” can break them with impunity.

 In the case before us, the public interest and countervailing Article II interest are particularly stark. The public interest in this criminal prosecution implicates both “[t]he Executive Branch’s interest in upholding Presidential elections and vesting power in a new President under the Constitution” as well as “the voters’ interest in democratically selecting their President.” 91 F. 4th 1173, 1195 (CADC 2024) (per curiam). It also, of course, implicates Congress’s own interest in regulating conduct through the criminal law. Cf. Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 749, n. 27 (noting that the case did not involve “affirmative action by Congress”). Yet the majority believes that a President’s anxiety over prosecution overrides the public’s interest in accountability and negates the interests of the other branches in carrying out their constitutionally assigned functions. It is, in fact, the majority’s position that “boil[s] down to ignoring the Constitution’s separation of powers.” Ante, at 40.

 C

 Finally, in an attempt to put some distance between its official-acts immunity and Trump’s requested immunity, the majority insists that “Trump asserts a far broader immunity than the limited one [the majority has] recognized.” Ante, at 32. If anything, the opposite is true. The only part of Trump’s immunity argument that the majority rejects is the idea that “the Impeachment Judgment Clause requires that impeachment and Senate conviction precede a President’s criminal prosecution.” Ibid. That argument is obviously wrong. See ante, at 32–34. Rejecting it, however, does not make the majority’s immunity narrower than Trump’s. Inherent in Trump’s Impeachment Judgment Clause argument is the idea that a former President who was impeached in the House and convicted in the Senate for crimes involving his official acts could then be prosecuted in court for those acts. See Brief for Petitioner 22 (“The Founders thus adopted a carefully balanced approach that permits the criminal prosecution of a former President for his official acts, but only if that President is first impeached by the House and convicted by the Senate”). By extinguishing that path to overcoming immunity, however nonsensical it might be, the majority arrives at an official-acts immunity even more expansive than the one Trump argued for. On the majority’s view (but not Trump’s), a former President whose abuse of power was so egregious and so offensive even to members of his own party that he was impeached in the House and convicted in the Senate still would be entitled to “at least presumptive” criminal immunity for those acts.

V

 Separate from its official-acts immunity, the majority recognizes absolute immunity for “conduct within [the President’s] exclusive sphere of constitutional authority.” Ante, at 9. Feel free to skip over those pages of the majority’s  opinion. With broad official-acts immunity covering the field, this ostensibly narrower immunity serves little purpose. In any event, this case simply does not turn on conduct within the President’s “exclusive sphere of constitutional authority,” and the majority’s attempt to apply a core immunity of its own making expands the concept of “core constitutional powers,” ante, at 6, beyond any recognizable bounds.

 The idea of a narrow core immunity might have some intuitive appeal, in a case that actually presented the issue. If the President’s power is “conclusive and preclusive” on a given subject, then Congress should not be able to “ac[t ] upon the subject.” Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U. S. 579, 638 (1952) (Jackson, J., concurring). In his Youngstown concurrence, Justice Robert Jackson posited that the President’s “power of removal in executive agencies” seemed to fall within this narrow category. Ibid., n. 4. Other decisions of this Court indicate that the pardon power also falls in this category, see United States v. Klein, 13 Wall. 128, 147 (1872) (“To the executive alone is intrusted the power of pardon; and it is granted without limit”), as does the power to recognize foreign countries, see Zivotofsky v. Kerry, 576 U. S. 1, 32 (2015) (holding that the President has “exclusive power . . . to control recognition determinations”).

 In this case, however, the question whether a former President enjoys a narrow immunity for the “exercise of his core constitutional powers,” ante, at 6, has never been at issue, and for good reason: Trump was not criminally indicted for taking actions that the Constitution places in the unassailable core of Executive power. He was not charged, for example, with illegally wielding the Presidency’s pardon power or veto power or appointment power or even removal power. Instead, Trump was charged with a conspiracy to commit fraud to subvert the Presidential election. It is true that the detailed indictment in this case alleges that Trump  threatened to remove an Acting Attorney General who would not carry out his scheme. See, e.g., App. 216–217, Indictment ¶¶74, 77. Yet it is equally clear that the Government does not seek to “impose criminal liability on the [P]resident for exercising or talking about exercising the appointment and removal power.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 127. If that were the majority’s concern, it could simply have said that the Government cannot charge a President’s threatened use of the removal power as an overt act in the conspiracy. It says much more.

 The core immunity that the majority creates will insulate a considerably larger sphere of conduct than the narrow core of “conclusive and preclusive” powers that the Court previously has recognized. The first indication comes when the majority includes the President’s broad duty to “ ‘take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed’ ” among the core functions for which a former President supposedly enjoys absolute immunity. Ante, at 20 (quoting Art. II, §3). That expansive view of core power will effectively insulate all sorts of noncore conduct from criminal prosecution. Were there any question, consider how the majority applies its newly minted core immunity to the allegations in this case. It concludes that “Trump is . . . absolutely immune from prosecution for” any “conduct involving his discussions with Justice Department officials.” Ante, at 21. That conception of core immunity expands the “conclusive and preclusive” category beyond recognition, foreclosing the possibility of prosecution for broad swaths of conduct. Under that view of core powers, even fabricating evidence and insisting the Department use it in a criminal case could be covered. The majority’s conception of “core” immunity sweeps far more broadly than its logic, borrowed from Youngstown, should allow.

 The majority tries to assuage any concerns about its made-up core immunity by suggesting that the Government  agrees with it. See ante, at 34. That suggestion will surprise the Government. To say, as the Government did, that a “small core of exclusive official acts” such as “the pardon power, the power to recognize foreign nations, the power to veto legislation, [and] the power to make appointments” cannot be regulated by Congress, see Tr. of Oral Arg. 85–87, does not suggest that the Government agrees with immunizing any and all conduct conceivably related to the majority’s broad array of supposedly “core” powers. The Government in fact advised this Court to “leav[e] potentially more difficult questions” about the scope of any immunity “that might arise on different facts for decision if they are ever presented.” Brief for United States 45. That would have made sense. The indictment here does not pose any threat of impermissibly criminalizing acts within the President’s “conclusive and preclusive” authority. Perhaps for this reason, even Trump discouraged consideration of “a narrower scope of immunity,” claiming that such an immunity “would be nearly impossible to fashion, and would certainly involve impractical line-drawing problems in every application.” Brief for Petitioner 43–44.

 When forced to wade into thorny separation-of-powers disputes, this Court’s usual practice is to “confine the opinion only to the very questions necessary to decision of the case.” Dames & Moore v. Regan, 453 U. S. 654, 661 (1981). There is plenty of peril and little value in crafting a core immunity doctrine that Trump did not seek and that rightly has no application to this case.

VI

 Not content simply to invent an expansive criminal immunity for former Presidents, the majority goes a dramatic and unprecedented step further. It says that acts for which the President is immune must be redacted from the narrative of even wholly private crimes committed while in office. They must play no role in proceedings regarding private  criminal acts. See ante, at 30–32.

 Even though the majority’s immunity analysis purports to leave unofficial acts open to prosecution, its draconian approach to official-acts evidence deprives these prosecutions of any teeth. If the former President cannot be held criminally liable for his official acts, those acts should still be admissible to prove knowledge or intent in criminal prosecutions of unofficial acts. For instance, the majority struggles with classifying whether a President’s speech is in his capacity as President (official act) or as a candidate (unofficial act). Imagine a President states in an official speech that he intends to stop a political rival from passing legislation that he opposes, no matter what it takes to do so (official act). He then hires a private hitman to murder that political rival (unofficial act). Under the majority’s rule, the murder indictment could include no allegation of the President’s public admission of premeditated intent to support the mens rea of murder. That is a strange result, to say the least.⁵

 The majority’s extraordinary rule has no basis in law. Consider the First Amendment context. Although the First Amendment prohibits criminalizing most speech, it “does not prohibit the evidentiary use of speech,” including its use “to prove motive or intent.” Wisconsin v. Mitchell, 508 U. S. 476, 489 (1993). Evidentiary rulings and limiting instructions can ensure that evidence concerning official acts is “considered only for the proper purpose for which it was admitted.” Huddleston v. United States, 485 U. S. 681, 691–692 (1988). The majority has no coherent explanation as to  why these protections that are sufficient in every other context would be insufficient here. It simply asserts that it would be “untenable” and would deprive immunity of its “ ‘intended effect.’ ” Ante, at 31 (quoting Fitzgerald, 457 U. S., at 756). The majority hazards an explanation that the use of official-acts evidence will “raise a unique risk that the jurors’ deliberations will be prejudiced by their views of the President’s policies and performance while in office.” Ante, at 31. That “unique risk,” however, is not a product of introducing official-acts evidence. It is simply the risk involved in any suit against a former President, including the private-acts prosecutions the majority says it would allow.

VII

 Today’s decision to grant former Presidents immunity for their official acts is deeply wrong. As troubling as this criminal immunity doctrine is in theory, the majority’s application of the doctrine to the indictment in this case is perhaps even more troubling. In the hands of the majority, this new official-acts immunity operates as a one-way ratchet.

 First, the majority declares all of the conduct involving the Justice Department and the Vice President to be official conduct, see ante, at 19–24, yet it refuses to designate any course of conduct alleged in the indictment as private, despite concessions from Trump’s counsel.⁶ Trump’s counsel conceded, for example, that the allegation that Trump  “turned to a private attorney who was willing to spread knowingly false claims of election fraud to spearhead his challenges to the election results” “sounds private.” Tr. of Oral Arg. 29. He likewise conceded that the allegation that Trump “conspired with another private attorney who caused the filing in court of a verification signed by [Trump] that contained false allegations to support a challenge” “sounds private.” Ibid.; see also id., at 36–37 (Trump’s counsel explaining that it is not “disputed” that such conduct is “unofficial”). Again, when asked about allegations that “[t]hree private actors . . . helped implement a plan to submit fraudulent slates of presidential electors to obstruct the certification proceeding, and [Trump] and a co-conspirator attorney directed that effort,” Trump’s counsel conceded the alleged conduct was “private.” Id., at 29–30. Only the majority thinks that organizing fraudulent slates of electors might qualify as an official act of the President, see ante, at 24–28, or at least an act so “interrelated” with other allegedly official acts that it might warrant protection, ante, at 28. If the majority’s sweeping conception of “official acts” has any real limits, the majority is unwilling to reveal them in today’s decision.

 Second, the majority designates certain conduct immune while refusing to recognize anything as prosecutable. It shields large swaths of conduct involving the Justice Department with immunity, see ante, at 19–21; see also Part V, supra, but it does not give an inch in the other direction. The majority admits that the Vice President’s responsibility “ ‘presiding over the Senate’ ” is “ ‘not an “executive branch” function,’ ” and it further admits that the President “plays no direct constitutional or statutory role” in the counting of electoral votes. Ante, at 23–24. Yet the majority refuses to conclude that Trump lacks immunity for his alleged attempts to “enlist the Vice President to use his ceremonial role at the January 6 certification proceeding to fraudulently alter the election results.” App. 187, Indictment  ¶10(d). Instead, it worries that a prosecution for this conduct might make it harder for the President to use the Vice President “to advance [his] agenda in Congress.” Ante, at 24. Such a prosecution, according to the majority, “may well hinder the President’s ability to perform his constitutional functions.” Ibid. Whether a prosecution for this conduct warrants immunity should have been an easy question, but the majority turns it into a debatable one. Remarkably, the majority goes further and declines to deny immunity even for the allegations that Trump organized fraudulent elector slates, pressured States to subvert the legitimate election results, and exploited violence at the Capitol to influence the certification proceedings. It is not conceivable that a prosecution for these alleged efforts to overturn a Presidential election, whether labeled official or unofficial under the majority’s test, would pose any “ ‘dangers of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch,’ ” ante, at 14, and the majority could have said as much. Instead, it perseverates on a threshold question that should be immaterial.

 Looking beyond the fate of this particular prosecution, the long-term consequences of today’s decision are stark. The Court effectively creates a law-free zone around the President, upsetting the status quo that has existed since the Founding. This new official-acts immunity now “lies about like a loaded weapon” for any President that wishes to place his own interests, his own political survival, or his own financial gain, above the interests of the Nation. Korematsu v. United States, 323 U. S. 214, 246 (1944) (Jackson, J., dissenting). The President of the United States is the most powerful person in the country, and possibly the world. When he uses his official powers in any way, under the majority’s reasoning, he now will be insulated from criminal prosecution. Orders the Navy’s Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military  coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune.

 Let the President violate the law, let him exploit the trappings of his office for personal gain, let him use his official power for evil ends. Because if he knew that he may one day face liability for breaking the law, he might not be as bold and fearless as we would like him to be. That is the majority’s message today.

 Even if these nightmare scenarios never play out, and I pray they never do, the damage has been done. The relationship between the President and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably. In every use of official power, the President is now a king above the law.

*  *  *

 The majority’s single-minded fixation on the President’s need for boldness and dispatch ignores the countervailing need for accountability and restraint. The Framers were not so single-minded. In the Federalist Papers, after “endeavor[ing] to show” that the Executive designed by the Constitution “combines . . . all the requisites to energy,” Alexander Hamilton asked a separate, equally important question: “Does it also combine the requisites to safety, in a republican sense, a due dependence on the people, a due responsibility?” The Federalist No. 77, p. 507 (J. Harvard Library ed. 2009). The answer then was yes, based in part upon the President’s vulnerability to “prosecution in the common course of law.” Ibid. The answer after today is no.

 Never in the history of our Republic has a President had reason to believe that he would be immune from criminal prosecution if he used the trappings of his office to violate the criminal law. Moving forward, however, all former Presidents will be cloaked in such immunity. If the occupant of that office misuses official power for personal gain, the criminal law that the rest of us must abide will not provide a backstop.

 With fear for our democracy, I dissent.

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES

_________________

No. 23–939

_________________

DONALD J. TRUMP, PETITIONER v. UNITED STATES

on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the district of columbia circuit

 Justice Jackson, dissenting.

 Justice Sotomayor has thoroughly addressed the Court’s flawed reasoning and conclusion as a matter of history, tradition, law, and logic. I agree with every word of her powerful dissent. I write separately to explain, as succinctly as I can, the theoretical nuts and bolts of what, exactly, the majority has done today to alter the paradigm of accountability for Presidents of the United States. I also address what that paradigm shift means for our Nation moving forward.

I

 To fully appreciate the profound change the majority has wrought, one must first acknowledge what it means to have immunity from criminal prosecution. Put simply, immunity is “exemption” from the duties and liabilities imposed by law. Black’s Law Dictionary 898 (11th ed. 2019); see Hopkins v. Clemson, 221 U. S. 636, 643 (1911) (explaining that immunity is “exemption from legal process”). In its purest form, the concept of immunity boils down to a maxim—“ ‘[t]he King can do no wrong’ ”—a notion that was firmly “rejected at the birth of [our] Republic.” Clinton v. Jones, 520 U. S. 681, 697, n. 24 (1997) (quoting 1 W. Blackstone, Commentaries *246 (Blackstone)); see United States v. Burr, 25 F. Cas. 30, 34 (No. 14,692d) (CC Va. 1807). To say  that someone is immune from criminal prosecution is to say that, like a King, he “is not under the coercive power of the law,” which “will not suppose him capable of committing a folly, much less a crime.” 4 Blackstone *33. Thus, being immune is not like having a defense under the law. Rather, it means that the law does not apply to the immunized person in the first place. Conferring immunity therefore “create[s] a privileged class free from liability for wrongs inflicted or injuries threatened.” Hopkins, 221 U. S., at 643.

 It is indisputable that immunity from liability for wrongdoing is the exception rather than the rule in the American criminal justice system. That is entirely unsurprising, for the very idea of immunity stands in tension with foundational principles of our system of Government. It is a core tenet of our democracy that the People are the sovereign, and the Rule of Law is our first and final security. “[F]rom their own experience and their deep reading in history, the Founders knew that Law alone saves a society from being rent by internecine strife or ruled by mere brute power however disguised.” United States v. Mine Workers, 330 U. S. 258, 308 (1947) (Frankfurter, J., concurring in judgment).

 A corollary to that principle sets the terms for this case: “No man in this country is so high that he is above the law. No officer of the law may set that law at defiance with impunity. All the officers of the government, from the highest to the lowest, are creatures of the law, and are bound to obey it.” United States v. Lee, 106 U. S. 196, 220 (1882). We have long lived with the collective understanding that “[d]ecency, security and liberty alike demand that government officials shall be subjected to the same rules of conduct that are commands to the citizen,” for “[i]n a government of laws, existence of the government will be imperilled if it fails to observe the law scrupulously.” Olmstead v. United States, 277 U. S. 438, 485 (1928) (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

 II

A

 These foundational presuppositions are reflected in a procedural paradigm of rules and accountability that operates in the realm of criminal law—what I would call an individual accountability model.

 The basic contours of that model are familiar, because they manifest in every criminal case. Criminal law starts with an act of the legislature, which holds the power “to define a crime, and ordain its punishment.” United States v. Wiltberger, 5 Wheat. 76, 95 (1820); accord, Ohio v. Johnson, 467 U. S. 493, 499 (1984). Criminal statutes are laws of general applicability that express “the assent of the people’s representatives” that certain conduct is off limits in our society. Wooden v. United States, 595 U. S. 360, 391 (2022) (Gorsuch, J., concurring in judgment).

 When the Federal Government believes that someone has run afoul of a criminal statute and decides to exercise its prosecutorial discretion to pursue punishment for that violation, it persuades a grand jury that there is probable cause to indict. U. S. Const., Amdt. 5. Then, the Government marshals evidence to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant engaged in the prohibited conduct and possessed the requisite state of mind. See United States v. Bailey, 444 U. S. 394, 402 (1980) (observing that, to hold a person criminally liable, “the concurrence of . . . ‘an evil-meaning mind [and] an evil-doing hand’ ” must be proved (quoting Morissette v. United States, 342 U. S. 246, 251 (1952))).

 For his part, the defendant “stands accused but is presumed innocent until conviction upon trial or guilty plea.” Betterman v. Montana, 578 U. S. 437, 441 (2016). Notably, criminal defendants have various constitutionally protected rights during the criminal-liability process, including the rights to a speedy and public trial, the right to have a jury decide guilt or innocence, the right to the assistance  of counsel, and the right to confront the witnesses against him. Amdt. 6. The defendant also has at his disposal many means to defend himself against the criminal charge. He can, of course, seek to hold the Government to its burden of proof at trial. And even before trial, in a motion to dismiss the indictment, he might make any number of legal arguments; he can assert, for example, that the Government’s charging document does not give adequate notice of the charge against him or that the law he has been accused of violating is unconstitutionally vague. See Hamling v. United States, 418 U. S. 87, 117 (1974); United States v. Davis, 588 U. S. 445, 451 (2019). He might further claim that the law is unconstitutional as applied to his particular conduct. See United States v. O’Brien, 391 U. S. 367, 376 (1968). And he might maintain that his conduct, even if proved, does not violate the law at issue. See, e.g., Fischer v. United States, 603 U. S. ___, ___ (2024) (slip op., at 2).

 The defendant may also raise, and attempt to prove, affirmative defenses that “excuse conduct that would otherwise be punishable.” Dixon v. United States, 548 U. S. 1, 6 (2006). Generally speaking, affirmative defenses are determinations (often adopted by legislation) that certain conduct otherwise punishable by law is justified. This might be the case, for example, when the Legislature determines that, under specified circumstances, the societal harm particular conduct causes “is outweighed by the need to avoid an even greater harm.” 1 P. Robinson, Criminal Law Defenses §24(a) (1984) (Robinson).

 Importantly, a defense is not an immunity, even though a defense can likewise result in a person charged with a crime avoiding liability for his criminal conduct. Consistent with our foundational norms, the individual accountability model adheres to the presumption that the law applies to all and that everyone must follow it; yet, the model makes allowances for recognized defenses. One such defense is the  special privilege that Government officials sometimes invoke when carrying out their official duties.¹

 All of this is to say that our Government has long functioned under an accountability paradigm in which no one is above the law; an accused person is innocent until proven guilty; and criminal defendants may raise defenses, both legal and factual, tailored to their particular circumstances, whether they be Government officials or ordinary citizens. For over two centuries, our Nation has survived with these principles intact.

B

 With that understanding of how our system of accountability for criminal acts ordinarily functions, it becomes much easier to see that the majority’s ruling in this case breaks new and dangerous ground. Departing from the traditional model of individual accountability, the majority has concocted something entirely different: a Presidential accountability model that creates immunity—an exemption from criminal law—applicable only to the most powerful official in our Government.

1

 So, how does this new Presidential accountability model work? An initial problem is the lack of clarity regarding what this new model entails. The majority announces only its most basic contours. See ante, at 6 (asserting that “the  nature of Presidential power requires that a former President have some immunity from criminal prosecution for official acts during his tenure in office”). Instead of no immunity (the individual accountability model) or an unqualified grant of absolute immunity for “all official acts,” Brief for Petitioner 44 (emphasis added), the majority purports to adopt something of a hybrid.² It holds that a former President may or may not be immune from criminal prosecution for conduct undertaken while in office, to be determined on a case-by-case basis. According to the majority, whether a former President is immune depends on how his criminal conduct is classified, as among three possible categories.

 First, with respect to any criminal conduct relating to a President’s “core constitutional powers”—those subjects “within his ‘conclusive and preclusive’ constitutional authority”—the President is entitled to absolute immunity from criminal prosecution. See ante, at 6, 8. Second, expanding outward from this “core,” regarding all other “acts within the outer perimeter of [the President’s] official responsibility,” the President is entitled to “at least a presumptive immunity from criminal prosecution.” Ante, at 14.  Third, if the criminal conduct at issue comprises “unofficial acts, there is no immunity.” Ante, at 15.³

 Applying the majority’s new Presidential accountability model thus seems to involve bearing down on the indictment’s allegations and making a series of determinations about the nature of the conduct at issue. From the structure of the paradigm, it appears that the first decision point is whether the alleged criminal conduct involves one of the President’s “core” powers. If so (and apparently regardless of the degree to which the conduct implicates that core power), the President is absolutely immune from criminal liability for engaging in that criminal conduct. If not, then one must proceed to consider whether the conduct qualifies as an “official” act or “unofficial” act of that President. If the crime is an official act, the President is presumptively immune from criminal prosecution and punishment. But even then, immunity still hinges on whether there is any legal or factual basis for concluding that the presumption of immunity has been rebutted. Alternatively, if the charged conduct is an unofficial act (a determination that, inci dentally, courts must make without considering the President’s motivations, ante, at 18), the President is not immune.⁴

2

 The majority’s multilayered, multifaceted threshold parsing of the character of a President’s criminal conduct differs from the individual accountability model in several crucial respects. For one thing, it makes it next to impossible to know ex ante when and under what circumstances a President will be subject to accountability for his criminal acts. For every allegation, courts must run this gauntlet first—no matter how well documented or heinous the criminal act might be.

 Thus, even a hypothetical President who admits to having ordered the assassinations of his political rivals or critics, see, e.g., Tr. of Oral Arg. 9, or one who indisputably instigates an unsuccessful coup, id., at 41–43, has a fair shot at getting immunity under the majority’s new Presidential accountability model. That is because whether a President’s conduct will subject him to criminal liability turns on the court’s evaluation of a variety of factors related to the character of that particular act—specifically, those characteristics that imbue an act with the status of “official” or “unofficial” conduct (minus motive). In the end, then, under the majority’s new paradigm, whether the President will be exempt from legal liability for murder, assault, theft, fraud,  or any other reprehensible and outlawed criminal act will turn on whether he committed that act in his official capacity, such that the answer to the immunity question will always and inevitably be: It depends.

 Under the individual accountability paradigm, the accountability analysis is markedly less convoluted, and leads to a more certain outcome. None of the same complications or consequences arise, because, as I have explained, there are no exemptions from the criminal law for any person, but every defendant can assert whatever legal arguments and defenses might be applicable under governing law. Since no one is above the law, everyone can focus on what the law demands and permits, and on what the defendant did or did not do; no one has to worry about characterizing any criminal conduct as official or unofficial in order to assess the applicability of an immunity at the outset.

 The majority’s new Presidential accountability model is also distinct insofar as it accepts as a basic starting premise that generally applicable criminal laws do not apply to everyone in our society. In the majority’s view, while all other citizens of the United States must do their jobs and live their lives within the confines of criminal prohibitions, the President cannot be made to do so; he must sometimes be exempt from the law’s dictates depending on the character of his conduct. Indeed, the majority holds that the President, unlike anyone else in our country, is comparatively free to engage in criminal acts in furtherance of his official duties.

 That point bears emphasizing. Immunity can issue for Presidents under the majority’s model even for unquestionably and intentionally egregious criminal behavior. Regardless of the nature or the impact of the President’s criminal conduct, so long as he is committing crimes “pursuant to the powers invested exclusively in him by the Constitution,” ante, at 7, or as needed “to carry out his constitutional duties without undue caution,” ante, at 14, he is likely to be  deemed immune from prosecution.⁵

 Ultimately, the majority’s model simply sets the criminal law to one side when it comes to crimes allegedly committed by the President. Before accountability can be sought or rendered, the Judiciary serves as a newfound special gatekeeper, charged not merely with interpreting the law but with policing whether it applies to the President at all. Also, under the new Presidential accountability model, the starting presumption is that the criminal law does not apply to Presidents, no matter how obviously illegal, harmful, or unacceptable a President’s official behavior might be. Regardless of all that, courts must now ensure that a former President is not held accountable for any criminal conduct he engages in while he is on duty, unless his conduct consists primarily (and perhaps solely) of unofficial acts.

3

 The structure and function of the two accountability paradigms are not the only differences—the models also assign different roles to participants in the criminal justice system, and they ultimately generate different relationships between the Presidency and the Rule of Law.

 Under the individual accountability model, duty-bound prosecutorial officers initially exercise their discretion to decide whether to seek punishment for alleged violations of  criminal law (a determination that is made based on numerous factors). And even if prosecutors decide to bring a charge, a jury of the criminal defendant’s peers ultimately determines whether that defendant (including a former President) will actually be held to account for having engaged in unlawful conduct, after the court has resolved any legal challenges and has instructed the jury as to the requirements of the law.

 By contrast, under the majority’s new Presidential accountability paradigm, what a prosecutor or jury does may not even matter, since the courts take center stage once charges are brought against a former President, marshaling their resources to conduct a complex and amorphous threshold immunity evaluation. Whether a former President will be entirely exempted from the dictates of the law (such that the roles of other participants in the criminal justice process become irrelevant) requires a judicial assessment, in the first instance, of his criminal conduct and the circumstances under which he acted.

 Finally, and most importantly, recall that under the individual accountability model, an indicted former President can raise an affirmative defense just like any other criminal defendant. This means that the President remains answerable to the law, insofar as he must show that he was justified in committing a criminal act while in office under the given circumstances. In other words, while the President might indeed be privileged to commit a crime in the course of his official duties, any such privilege exists only when the People (acting either through their elected representatives or as members of a jury) determine that the former President’s conduct was in fact justified, notwithstanding the general criminal prohibition.

 Under the majority’s immunity regime, by contrast, the President can commit crimes in the course of his job even under circumstances in which no one thinks he has any excuse; the law simply does not apply to him. Unlike a defendant who invokes an affirmative defense and relies on a legal determination that there was a good reason for his otherwise unlawful conduct, a former President invoking immunity relies on the premise that he can do whatever he wants, however he wants, so long as he uses his “ ‘official power’ ” in doing so. Ante, at 19. In the former paradigm, the President remains subject to law; in the latter, he is above it.

III

 Justice Sotomayor has already warned of the dire consequences that are likely to follow from the majority’s decision in this case. Ante, at 29–30 (dissenting opinion). I have thus far endeavored merely to explain what today’s ruling amounts to on a theoretical level: the Court’s abandonment of the individual accountability model as applied to Presidents, and its introduction of a new Presidential accountability model that authorizes the Judiciary to exempt Presidents from punishment under law, depending on the official or unofficial character of the criminal conduct at issue.

 Here, I will highlight just two observations about the results that follow from this paradigm shift. First, by changing the accountability paradigm in this fashion, the Court has unilaterally altered the balance of power between the three coordinate branches of our Government as it relates to the Rule of Law, aggrandizing power in the Judiciary and the Executive, to the detriment of Congress. Second, the majority’s new Presidential accountability model undermines the constraints of the law as a deterrent for future Presidents who might otherwise abuse their power, to the detriment of us all.

A

 Consider the structural implications of today’s decision from the standpoint of the separation of powers. Until now,  Congress’s laws, passed by the representatives of the People, bound the People and their elected officials just the same. Law, we have explained, “is the only supreme power in our system of government, and every man who by accepting office participates in its functions is only the more strongly bound to submit to that supremacy, and to observe the limitations which it imposes upon the exercise of the authority which it gives.” Lee, 106 U. S., at 220. With its adoption of a paradigm that sometimes exempts the President from the dictates of the law (when the Court says so), this Court has effectively snatched from the Legislature the authority to bind the President (or not) to Congress’s mandates, and it has also thereby substantially augmented the power of both the Office of the Presidency and itself.

 As to the former, it should go without saying that the Office of the Presidency, the apex of the Executive Branch, is made significantly more powerful when the constraints of the criminal law are lifted with respect to the exercise of a President’s official duties. After today’s ruling, the President must still “take Care that the Laws be faithfully executed,” Art. II, §3; yet, when acting in his official capacity, he has no obligation to follow those same laws himself.

 But whatever additional power the majority’s new Presidential accountability model gives to the Presidency, it gives doubly to the Court itself, for the majority provides no meaningful guidance about how to apply this new paradigm or how to categorize a President’s conduct. For instance, its opinion lists some examples of the “core” constitutional powers with respect to which the President is now entitled to absolute immunity—a list that apparently includes the removal power, the power to recognize foreign nations, and the pardon power. Ante, at 6–9. However, the majority does not—and likely cannot—supply any useful or administrable definition of the scope of that “core.” For what it’s worth, the Constitution’s text is no help either; Article II  does not contain a Core Powers Clause.⁶ So the actual metes and bounds of the “core” Presidential powers are really anyone’s guess.

 Nor does the majority explain how to consistently distinguish between official and unofficial acts. Quite the opposite, in fact. While acknowledging that this is a critical line that courts must draw in order for its new accountability model to work properly, the majority simultaneously cautions that making this distinction “can be difficult”—likely a gross understatement given the recognized “breadth of the President’s ‘discretionary responsibilities’ under the Constitution and laws of the United States.” Ante, at 17. The majority likewise provides no guidance as to when, how, or why the President’s “presumptive” immunity for noncore official acts might be rebutted, saying only that applying the criminal law to a President’s acts must pose “no ‘dangers of intrusion on the authority and functions of the Executive Branch.’ ” Ante, at 14 (quoting Nixon v. Fitzgerald, 457 U. S. 731, 754 (1982)).

 At most, to distinguish official from unofficial conduct, the majority advises asking whether the former President’s conduct was “ ‘manifestly or palpably beyond [his] authority.’ ” Ante, at 17 (quoting Blassingame v. Trump, 87 F. 4th 1, 13 (CADC 2023)). But that test can be illusory, as is evidenced by the facts alleged in this very case. With respect to the indictment’s allegations concerning petitioner’s attempt to assemble false slates of electors in conjunction  with the events of January 6, 2021, for example, the majority admits that the “alleged conduct cannot be neatly categorized,” and that “[t]he analysis therefore . . . may prove to be challenging.” Ante, at 28–29. With that, at least, I could not agree more.

 This much is clear: Before today, none of these kinds of inquiries was necessary for criminal liability to be fairly assessed with respect to persons accused of having engaged in criminal conduct. And, frankly, none is needed now—except as relates to the President under the new paradigm the majority has crafted.

 Perhaps even more troubling, while Congress (the branch of our Government most accountable to the People) is the entity our Constitution tasks with deciding, as a general matter, what conduct is on or off limits, the Court has now arrogated that power unto itself when that question pertains to the President. In essence, the Court has now imposed its own preclearance requirement on the application of Congress’s laws to a former President alleged to have committed crimes while in office. Who will be responsible for drawing the crucial “ ‘line between [the President’s] personal and official affairs’ ”? Ante, at 29. To ask the question is to know the answer. A majority of this Court, applying an indeterminate test, will pick and choose which laws apply to which Presidents, by labeling his various allegedly criminal acts as “core,” “official,” or “manifestly or palpably” beyond the President’s authority.

 Ironically, then, while purportedly seeking to transcend politics, see ante, at 41–42, the Court today displaces the independent judgments of the political branches about the circumstances under which the criminal law should apply. Effectively, the Court elbows out of the way both Congress and prosecutorial authorities within the Executive Branch, making itself the indispensable player in all future attempts to hold former Presidents accountable to generally applicable criminal laws. “The Framers, however, did not  make the judiciary the overseer of our government.” Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, 343 U. S. 579, 594 (1952) (Frankfurter, J., concurring). To be sure, this Court may sometimes “have to intervene in determining where authority lies as between the democratic forces in our scheme of government.” Id., at 597. But it has long been understood that “we should be wary and humble” when doing so. Ibid.

 The majority displays no such caution or humility now. Instead, the Court today transfers from the political branches to itself the power to decide when the President can be held accountable. What is left in its wake is a greatly weakened Congress, which must stand idly by as the President disregards its criminal prohibitions and uses the powers of his office to push the envelope, while choosing to follow (or not) existing laws, as he sees fit. We also now have a greatly empowered Court, which can opt to allow Congress’s policy judgments criminalizing conduct to stand (or not) with respect to a former President, as a matter of its own prerogative.

B

 If the structural consequences of today’s paradigm shift mark a step in the wrong direction, then the practical consequences are a five-alarm fire that threatens to consume democratic self-governance and the normal operations of our Government. The majority shoos away this possibility. Ante, at 37 (accusing the dissents of “strik[ing] a tone of chilling doom that is wholly disproportionate to what the Court actually does today”). But Justice Sotomayor makes this point plain, see ante, at 29–30, and I will not belabor it.

 Here, I will merely observe that, from a theoretical perspective, philosophers have long considered deterrence to be a key justification for adopting and maintaining systems  that ensure accountability for criminal conduct.⁷ For that same reason, some commentators also maintain that decreasing the certainty of accountability for wrongful acts at least arguably reduces incentives to follow the law.⁸

 Under the individual accountability model, because everyone is subject to the law, the potential of criminal liability operates as a constraint on the actions and decisions of everyone, including the President. After today, that reality is no more. Consequently, our Nation has lost a substantial check on Presidents who would use their official powers to commit crimes with impunity while in office.

 So, one might ask, what remains of accountability for Presidents under law? With today’s paradigm shift, the majority leaves in place only the chance that this Court might someday determine that the criminal conduct in question was an “unofficial” act, or that the Government will somehow rebut the presumption of immunity that applies to a President’s official acts, such that criminal consequences might attach. But with the parameters of official and unofficial conduct unknown, I think it highly unlikely that a sitting President would feel constrained by these remote possibilities.

  All of this leads me to ponder why, exactly, has the majority concluded that an indeterminate “core”-versus-“official”-versus-“unofficial” line-drawing exercise is the better way to address potential criminal acts of a President? Could it be that the majority believes the obviously grave dangers of shifting from the individual accountability model to the Presidential accountability model might nevertheless be offset by the great benefits of doing so? Cf. J. Bentham, A Fragment on Government and an Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation 3 (W. Harrison ed. 1948) (arguing that acts can be justified by the maxim that “it is the greatest happiness of the greatest number that is the measure of right and wrong” (emphasis deleted)).

 Some of the majority’s analysis suggests as much. As far as I can tell, the majority is mostly concerned that, without immunity, Presidents might “be chilled from taking the ‘bold and unhesitating action’ required of an independent Executive.” Ante, at 13. The Court’s opinion candidly laments that application of the law to Presidents might not be evenhanded, and that, as a result, Presidents might be less “ ‘vigorous’ and ‘energetic’ ” as executive officers. Ante, at 10; accord, ante, at 39. But that concern ignores (or rejects) the foundational principles upon which the traditional individual accountability paradigm is based. Worse still, promoting more vigor from Presidents in exercising their official duties—and, presumably, less deliberation—invites breathtaking risks in terms of harm to the American people that, in my view, far outweigh the benefits.

 This is not to say that the majority is wrong when it perceives that it can be cumbersome for a President to have to follow the law while carrying out his duty to enforce it. It is certainly true that “[a] scheme of government like ours no doubt at times feels the lack of power to act with complete, all-embracing, swiftly moving authority.” Youngstown, 343 U. S., at 613 (Frankfurter, J., concurring). But  any American who has studied history knows that “our government was designed to have such restrictions.” Ibid. (emphasis added). Our Constitution’s “separation of powers was adopted by the Convention of 1787, not to promote efficiency but to preclude the exercise of arbitrary power. The purpose was, not to avoid friction, but . . . to save the people from autocracy.” Myers v. United States, 272 U. S. 52, 293 (1926) (Brandeis, J., dissenting).

 Having now cast the shadow of doubt over when—if ever—a former President will be subject to criminal liability for any criminal conduct he engages in while on duty, the majority incentivizes all future Presidents to cross the line of criminality while in office, knowing that unless they act “manifestly or palpably beyond [their] authority,” ante, at 17, they will be presumed above prosecution and punishment alike.

 But the majority also tells us not to worry, because “[l]ike everyone else, the President is subject to prosecution in his unofficial capacity.” Ante, at 40 (emphasis added). This attempted reassurance is cold comfort, even setting aside the fact that the Court has neglected to lay out a standard that reliably distinguishes between a President’s official and unofficial conduct. Why? Because there is still manifest inequity: Presidents alone are now free to commit crimes when they are on the job, while all other Americans must follow the law in all aspects of their lives, whether personal or professional. The official-versus-unofficial act distinction also seems both arbitrary and irrational, for it suggests that the unofficial criminal acts of a President are the only ones worthy of prosecution. Quite to the contrary, it is when the President commits crimes using his unparalleled official powers that the risks of abuse and autocracy will be most dire. So, the fact that, “unlike anyone else, the President is” vested with “sweeping powers and duties,” ibid., actually underscores, rather than undermines, the grim stakes of setting the criminal law to the side when the President  flexes those very powers.

 The vision John Adams enshrined in the Massachusetts Declaration of Rights—“ ‘a government of laws and not of men’ ”—speaks directly to this concept. Mine Workers, 330 U. S., at 307 (Frankfurter, J., concurring in judgment). Adams characterized that document as an homage to the Rule of Law; it reflected both a flat “rejection in positive terms of rule by fiat” and a solemn promise that “[e]very act of government may be challenged by an appeal to law.” Id., at 308. Thanks to the majority, that vision and promise are likely to be fleeting in the future. From this day forward, Presidents of tomorrow will be free to exercise the Commander-in-Chief powers, the foreign-affairs powers, and all the vast law enforcement powers enshrined in Article II however they please—including in ways that Congress has deemed criminal and that have potentially grave consequences for the rights and liberties of Americans.

IV

 To the extent that the majority’s new accountability paradigm allows Presidents to evade punishment for their criminal acts while in office, the seeds of absolute power for Presidents have been planted. And, without a doubt, absolute power corrupts absolutely. “If one man can be allowed to determine for himself what is law, every man can. That means first chaos, then tyranny.” Id., at 312. Likewise, “[i]f the Government becomes a lawbreaker, it breeds contempt for law; it invites every man to become a law unto himself; it invites anarchy.” Olmstead, 277 U. S., at 485 (Brandeis, J., dissenting). I worry that, after today’s ruling, our Nation will reap what this Court has sown.

 Stated simply: The Court has now declared for the first time in history that the most powerful official in the United States can (under circumstances yet to be fully determined) become a law unto himself. As we enter this uncharted territory, the People, in their wisdom, will need to remain ever  attentive, consistently fulfilling their established role in our constitutional democracy, and thus collectively serving as the ultimate safeguard against any chaos spawned by this Court’s decision. For, like our democracy, our Constitution is “the creature of their will, and lives only by their will.” Cohens v. Virginia, 6 Wheat. 264, 389 (1821).

 For my part, I simply cannot abide the majority’s senseless discarding of a model of accountability for criminal acts that treats every citizen of this country as being equally subject to the law—as the Rule of Law requires. That core principle has long prevented our Nation from devolving into despotism. Yet the Court now opts to let down the guardrails of the law for one extremely powerful category of citizen: any future President who has the will to flout Congress’s established boundaries.

 In short, America has traditionally relied on the law to keep its Presidents in line. Starting today, however, Americans must rely on the courts to determine when (if at all) the criminal laws that their representatives have enacted to promote individual and collective security will operate as speedbumps to Presidential action or reaction. Once self-regulating, the Rule of Law now becomes the rule of judges, with courts pronouncing which crimes committed by a President have to be let go and which can be redressed as impermissible. So, ultimately, this Court itself will decide whether the law will be any barrier to whatever course of criminality emanates from the Oval Office in the future. The potential for great harm to American institutions and Americans themselves is obvious.

*  *  *

 The majority of my colleagues seems to have put their trust in our Court’s ability to prevent Presidents from becoming Kings through case-by-case application of the indeterminate standards of their new Presidential accountability paradigm. I fear that they are wrong. But, for all our  sakes, I hope that they are right.

 In the meantime, because the risks (and power) the Court has now assumed are intolerable, unwarranted, and plainly antithetical to bedrock constitutional norms, I dissent.