Mozert v. Hawkins County Public Schools (The Tale of the Troubling Textbook) – Part Three

This Is Not About Monkeys

Monkey CourtWhile researching what I hope will be an upcoming book about the “wall of separation” as it relates to public education, I came across as case which has fascinated me far out of proportion to its actual importance. Since I try to keep the published stuff concise and balanced and semi-professional, I’m getting the rest of it out of my system here.

You’re welcome.

I’ve already written about Mozert v. Hawkins (6th Circuit, 1987) in Part One and Part Two, and fully intend to wrap it up here in this final post – so you can realistically expect Part Four sometime early next week. *sigh*

The Story So Far

Parents in Hawkins County, Tennessee, led by Vicki Frost, objected to a literature textbook being used in their kids’ public school. The families were fundamentalist Christians, and the stories in the reader were all about imaginary places and events, appreciating different cultures, and asking important questions about what’s truly important – the antithesis of their faith, they insisted. When the school refused to let their kids opt out of using this particular book, they took them to court.

The case began in the Eastern District of Tennessee under Judge Thomas Hull. He rejected a number of their complaints as outside the purview of the federal bench, instead choosing to deal exclusively with the suggestion their free exercise rights were being violated. It didn’t take long – he issued a summary judgement dismissing the case, explaining that there wasn’t enough substance to their complaint to merit a full trial.

The parents appealed to the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals, which suggested maybe Judge Hull should suck it up and give them a real trial because… Issues! Evidence! Hearings! So, back to the ED of TN it went. This time, Judge Hull would find in favor of the parents. He even ordered the school to pay their legal fees. His written opinion is quite… extensive. If members of the bench weren’t totally above such things, one might think he seemed a tad sore about being scolded by his superiors for not taking the case seriously enough. He’d show them time and attention and thought and legal analysis, by golly!

But that, of course, would be ridiculous. He probably just had a lot to say. Fervently.  

I’m not going to cover it extensively here, but there are a few highlights which beg for attention. Keep in mind that Hull will be overturned by the 6th Circuit, whose ruling will essentially cite the same reasons he’d given for his summary judgement in the first place – although they’ll say it a bit fancier and with more citations.

Juxtapositions & Implications (Excerpts from Judge Hull)

Breakfast ClubJudge Hull opens with a basic summary of the case so far, then adds this intriguing commentary:

It is important to note at the outset that the plaintiffs are not requesting that the Holt series be banned from the classroom, nor are they seeking to expunge the theory of evolution from the public school curriculum. Despite considerable fanfare in the press billing this action as “Scopes II.” it bears little relation to the famous “monkey trial” of 1925. These plaintiffs simply claim that they should not be forced to choose between reading books that offend their religious beliefs and foregoing a free public education.

There was fanfare? It seems odd that a federal judge would accuse local media of #fakenews (or at least the 1980s version) in a formal opinion. It’s even odder that anyone would have nicknamed this case “Scopes II,” particularly since that nickname had already been given to an Arkansas case in 1968 – one actually about evolution.

This action juxtaposes two of our most essential constitutional liberties the right of free exercise of religion and the right to be free from a religion established by the state. Moreover, it implicates an important state interest in the education of our children. The education of our citizens is essential to prepare them for effective and intelligent participation in our political system and is essential to the preservation of our freedom and independence.

If you wanted to capture every important element of this case in as few words as possible, you couldn’t do better than that. The “religion clauses,” public education, patriotism, and world citizenship. Add sex and contrived melodrama and you’ve got a mini-series.

From a constitutional standpoint, the most interesting thing was the natural tension which sometimes occurs between free exercise and non-establishment. Socio-emotionally, however, the real hand grenade was the question of individual parental rights (with a side of religious freedom) vs. the presumed long-term good of the child and of society as a whole. Civilization is premised on the idea that we’ll each forego a degree of personal autonomy in order to benefit from participation in society. Schools are a major part of that arrangement.  

Public education isn’t primarily intended to be a baby-sitting service, nor should it be overly focused on prepping “meat widgets” for easy plugging into the needs of local employers. Its flavor and mechanics have evolved over the past 250 years, but one thing has remained consistent – at its heart, public education is about trying to build educated, insightful, free men (and later, women) capable of ruling themselves as well as helping to run a rather large republic. Not annoying fundamentalists who find society horrifying to begin with isn’t part of the mission statement, nor should it be.

The Underlying Conflict (It’s Not Between Clauses)

Selling PapersIn 1944, the Supreme Court heard Prince v. Massachusetts, one of many Jehovah’s Witnesses cases reaching them in the mid-20th century. This one was a rare loss for the Witnesses. At issue was the question of child labor laws and whether or not parental rights – specifically, their “freedom of religion” – offset or overrode secular statutes designed to protect the child’s welfare. Justice Wiley Rutledge, writing for the majority, penned one of the most succinct and powerful comments in the history of the Court:

Parents may be free to become martyrs themselves. But it does not follow they are free, in identical circumstances, to make martyrs of their children before they have reached the age of full and legal discretion when they can make that choice for themselves.

This is a truth which has sadly been largely forgotten as the political weight of various religious groups has expanded substantially in recent decades. Too often, legislatures and courts have opted to allow children to suffer from easily curable illness, die from easily treated maladies, or undergo all varieties of sexual and emotional abuse rather than risking any appearance of “interfering” with “parental rights” or “free exercise of religion.” Little wonder, then, that it’s often difficult for local schools to stand their ground on such matters.

Things weren’t quite so severe in Mozert v. Hawkins, but you can feel the issue writhing throughout the rhetoric as the courts sought to balance parental rights with societal good and a vestigial belief in putting the welfare of the child ahead of the whims of the adult. Should parents have the right to ensure that their child grows up unable and unwilling to interact productively with those outside their bubble? To be taught bogus science and history as fact and intolerance as faith? Where, exactly, is the boundary between freedom of religion and freedom from the social contract on which civilization is built?

We Need A Cool Name   

Here’s a cute little bit of trivia which has somehow failed to come up before now:

In September 1983, a group of Hawkins County residents, including most of the plaintiff-parents, formed an organization named Citizens Organized for Better Schools (COBS). Members of COBS spoke at regularly scheduled school board meetings… objecting, among other things, to the use of the Holt series. The COBS members apprised the Board that they found the Holt series offensive to their religious beliefs and presented petitions requesting removal of the Holt series from the schools.

First, “among other things”? There were other things? Try to pretend you’re not dying to know what else they brought up. Go ahead – try!

COBS ElectricSecond, “COBS”? Their self-selected group name was “COBS”? As in, things we say are up someone’s @$$ when they’re being unreasonably rigid or demanding in their beliefs? It’s not even a great group name spelled out – “Citizens Organized for Better Schools”? Was “Families Asserting Sincere Classroom Involvement Since Textbooks Suck” already taken?

You’d think with a little creativity and imagination, they could have—oh, wait… I guess that was the whole point of the lawsuit, wasn’t it?

“When deciding a free exercise claim, the courts apply a two-step analysis. First, it must be determined whether the government action does, in fact, create a burden on the litigant’s exercise of his religion. If such a burden is found, it must then be balanced against the governmental interest, with the government being required to show a compelling reason for its action.”

Notice the issue is not merely whether or not the school’s actions are creating a burden on the parents’ “free exercise.” If it turns out they are, does the government have a sufficiently GOOD REASON for what they’re doing? The right to free exercise is not absolute. It should be weighed against the public good (see above).

In addition, it must be determined whether the state has acted in a way which constitutes “the least restrictive means of achieving {the} compelling state interest,” as measured by its impact upon the plaintiffs. (Thomas v. Review Board, 1981).

So there were three basic questions. (1) Is free exercise being violated? (2) If so, is it for a valid reason? (3) If it is a valid reason, are there less-violative ways the state could accomplish the same thing?

How Violative You Wanna Be Today?

It appears to the Court that many of the objectionable passages in the Holt books would be rendered inoffensive, or less offensive, in a more balanced context. The problem with the Holt series, as it relates to the plaintiffs’ beliefs, is one of degree. One story reinforces and builds upon the others throughout the individual texts and the series as a whole. The plaintiffs believe that, after reading the entire Holt series, a child might adopt the views of a feminist, a humanist, a pacifist, an anti-Christian, a vegetarian, or an advocate of a “one-world government.”

This is a valid concern. Still, I wonder how differently things would have gone if the parents had pushed for the addition of more acceptable materials rather than the removal of those already there – a “the solution to offensive free speech is more and better free speech” approach. Of course, this is just some amateur Monday morning quarter-parenting.

Plaintiffs sincerely believe that the repetitive affirmation of these philosophical viewpoints is repulsive to the Christian faith so repulsive that they must not allow their children to be exposed to the Holt series. This is their religious belief. They have drawn a line, “and it is not for us to say that the line {they} drew was an unreasonable one.” (Thomas)

Great Waves BreakingThat’s true inasmuch as judging the belief itself. The government has no business worrying about the validity of specific convictions or doctrines. That doesn’t mean the rest of society has to cooperate with such beliefs, however.

Judge Hull goes on to find that the parents’ free exercise rights have clearly been burdened (something the district didn’t put much energy into contesting). The real question, then, was whether or not the school had dug in on the textbook thing as the “least restrictive means of achieving some compelling state interest.” In other words, were there ways to accomplish the same, valid state goal of educating children without forcing this particular issue with this particular textbook?

Compromises, Restrictions, & Sneaky Stuff Educators Do  

Schools make these compromises all the time. The less you hear about them in the local news, the more successful they’ve been. “Professional Development” days for teachers just happen to fall on MLK Day or Good Friday. The transgender kid is given permission to use faculty restrooms so they avoid the spotlight and the school avoids an uncomfortable showdown. Teachers work out alternate arrangements with students over potentially problematic material in ways that make the family feel listened to but don’t require an unreasonable degree of additional preparation on the part of the teacher or other staff.

It’s not always possible, but it’s far more common than those outside the system probably realize. I’d even wager that somewhere in your kids’ school, teachers are having subtle conversations about Jesus or sexuality or drugs or other personal choices – not because they’re trying to manipulate your children behind your back or because they fear neither god nor the legal system, but because they care about young people. Kids come to us with all sorts of things they’re trying to process. Most of the time we’re not interested in telling them what to do so much as validating their concerns and their feelings and their confusion, then trying to nudge them away from doing stupid make-things-much-worse stuff. Sure, we could pick up the phone and start screaming “YOUR CHILD IS KINDA GAY NOW; GRAB THE CAR BATTERY AND CALL THE CONVERSION CAMP!” Maybe that’s even the professionally safe, legal thing to do.  

But, you know – &#$% that.

Cared ForMost teachers aren’t interested in openly opposing parents or anyone else. We’re just trying to teach a little history or math or whatever. But most of us also won’t go out of our way to add to a kids’ problems if we can avoid it. I realize it drives conservatives crazy to hear this, but at times your suspicions are correct – there are those of us periodically trying to figure out a legal, non-fireable way to do what’s best for your kids. There’s often an unpleasant dissonance, however, between what’s desperately needed by that young person in front of us with no one else to turn to and what’s dictated by cover-your-ass policies. I can shift the conversation back to those multiple choice questions they missed or write them a pass to the school counselor who doesn’t know them from Salvatore Perrone and have a much better chance of keeping my job, but I’ll probably go to Teacher Hell by way of tradeoff.

None of which is, um, probably the fault of Vicki Frost or the COBS – although the issues themselves are somewhat related. It’s also possible I’ve just uncovered the underlying reason for my fascination with this case, along with some uncomfortable realizations about a few of my own personal and professional issues.

*pause*

The point is, our primary job isn’t to make parents happy. It’s to do what’s best for kids and the society in which they’ll live – within the structure and limits of the gig, of course. I was, um… just kidding about that “my first thought isn’t always to out the kid to dad” stuff. I totally do. Every time. I’ll even bring the car battery.   

The Decision in Tennessee

Here’s the crux of Judge Hull’s decision:

{T}he state, acting through its local school board, has chosen to further its legitimate and overriding interest in public education by mandating the use of a single basic reading series. The Court has found that compulsory use of this reading series burdens the plaintiffs’ free exercise rights. In order to justify this burden, the defendants must show that the state’s interest in the education of its children necessitates the uniform use of the Holt reading series that this uniformity is essential to accomplishing the state’s goals. Therefore, the Court must decide whether the state can achieve literacy and good citizenship for all students without forcing them to read the Holt series.

Well, if you frame it that way, it’s pretty clear what the court’s answer is going to be…

It seems obvious that this question must be answered in the affirmative. The legislative enactments of this state admit as much. Although Tennessee has manifested its compelling interest in education through its compulsory education law, it has, by allowing children to attend private schools or to be taught at home, also acknowledged that its interests may be accomplished in other ways and may yield to the parental interest in a child’s upbringing. Moreover, the fact that the state has approved several basic reading series for use in the Tennessee public schools tells us something of the expendability of any particular series.

In defense of the district, they weren’t saying that the only way children in the state of Tennessee could be properly educated was to read this textbook. They were arguing that teachers can’t realistically teach a room of 30 kids effectively if they let everyone customize the curriculum as they see fit. We talk a good game about “individualized instruction,” and we do our best to tweak it when we can. But public education only works on the budget it does because of economies of scale.

We can leave off the onions or upsize the fries, but if it’s burger day, we’re doing burgers. Nevertheless, the parents in this case had successfully framed their case as a “hold the onions” issue, while the schools were arguing they couldn’t become Cheesecake Factory and offer every parent a full menu. As a result…

It is true that many of the plaintiffs’ objections suggest that other elements of the curriculum besides the reading program could easily be considered offensive to their beliefs. However… {they} have not made multi-subject, multi-text objections; they have objected to the Holt reading series. The defendants may not justify burdening the plaintiffs’ free exercise rights in this narrow case on the basis of what the plaintiffs might find objectionable in the future.

Well-played, Team COBS. Besides, there was one last strategic error on the part of the school which sealed their fate – at least until appeal.

Moreover, proof at trial demonstrated that accommodating the plaintiffs is possible without materially and substantially disrupting the educational process… The students at the middle school were provided with analternative reading arrangement for a period of several weeks. There was no testimony at trial that those arrangements resulted in any detriment to the student-plaintiffs. In fact, those children still received above average grades for that period. Even after the School Board mandate, compromise arrangements were worked out with some of the plaintiffs.

Annoyed FingerThe danger in bending over backwards to accommodate parents or students is that once you’ve established that precedent, there’s no telling what you’ll be expected to do moving forward. Worse, teachers and administrators sound like complete tools whenever they express this up front.

That doesn’t mean they’re wrong.

The Solution

Under these circumstances, the Court finds that a reasonable alternative which could accommodate the plaintiffs’ religious beliefs, effectuate the state’s interest in education, and avoid Establishment Clause problems, would be to allow the plaintiff-students to opt out of the school district’s reading program. The State of Tennessee has provided a complete opt-out, a total curriculum alternative, in its home schooling statute… Although it will require extra effort on the part of the plaintiff-parents, these parents have demonstrated their willingness to make such an effort as the price of accommodation in the public school system.

Damn – who saw THAT coming? “Since the parents won’t bend and the school is acting like making adjustments would be such a burden, how ‘bout we just let these kids learn to read at home?”

To make it more palatable, Judge Hull ordered the district to pay the parents a bunch of money for their trouble.

Mozert v. Hawkins will make one final stop at the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals. They’ll throw in a few even more interesting details before making their final decision. We’ll talk about that next time.

Planet of the Apes Trial

Mozert v. Hawkins County Public Schools (The Tale of the Troubling Textbook) – Part Two

Tell Him About The Twinkie, Ray

In researching cases for the follow-up to “Have To” History: Landmark Supreme Court Cases, I came across a case from Tennessee that simply fascinates me, despite being a relatively minor decision in the larger scheme of things. Unable to resist chasing this particular rabbit trail, I posted last time about the basic complaint (fundamentalist parents didn’t like a literature textbook) and the summary dismissal by a federal judge in Eastern Tennessee. The case was appealed to the Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals, however, which is where we pick up today.

I’m simply giddy, aren’t you?

Let’s Phrase That Differently…

Mozert Gavel

Part of the appeal of digging through the written records of this case as it bounced around the courts is that we lack easy access to the specific complaints, the textbook itself (although I’m working on that), and any verbal arguments made in various courts. Those things may be public record in Tennessee or Ohio somewhere, but short of a road trip (“Hey, honey? I know you were looking forward to seeing your parents over the holidays, but I’m super-curious about some obscure court transcripts from 35 years ago, so… can we go the other direction instead?”), all we have are the decisions of various judges.

They’re all looking at the same material; the differences in what’s discussed at each step is a function of the status of the case and what each court wishes to emphasize. For example, we have the 6th Circuit’s complete response to the parents’ appeal. They refused to hear the case (this first time), but neither were they sold on the lower court’s decision to issue a summary judgement in favor of the school district. Why?

In our opinion, as hereinafter pointed out, there were sufficient disputed issues of fact not resolved to make it erroneous for the district court to grant summary judgment. We therefore reverse and remand for the district court to conduct an evidentiary hearing and to adopt findings of fact and conclusions of law.

This is no doubt standard judicial stuff – “It looks to us like judgey judgey, so legal legal legal, etc.” I’d make a poor member of the bench, however, because what I’m hearing is much closer to “Not sure what YOU were thinking, Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Feel-Like-Having-A-Real-Trial’, but this one needs to be heard FOR REAL. You know, if you’re not too busy to BE A FEDERAL JUDGE PROPERLY.”

I’m sure it wasn’t perceived that way, however. That would be silly.

Probably.

Overexposure Is Bad For The Soul

Appellants, who are fundamentalist Christians, brought an action in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Tennessee… to enjoin the Board and its administrators from compelling their children to participate in classes which used the Holt primer and to instead permit them to have their own separate reading classes with a different “non-offensive” reading primer. The complaint alleged that the Holt books contained teachings which were contrary to their fundamentalist beliefs and that their religion forbade them from reading such contrary teachings. Appellants emphasized that they were not seeking to ban the Holt books from the schools nor did they object to its use by the rest of the student body.

Terrifying StoriesThis is an important distinction. The parents weren’t trying to get their own materials or beliefs injected INTO the curriculum; they were merely trying to allow their own children to opt OUT of the existing materials because they found them offensive. This sets the issue apart from issues like school prayer or creationism, in that they’re not apparently interested in pressuring other children into conforming to their religious druthers. If there were, the case would be far simpler. It might even have justified the way the judge in Tennessee completely blew them off and no-wonder-he’ll-never-reach-the-circuit-courts-like-us.

{A}ppellees submitted an affidavit by appellee Hawkins County School Superintendent Bill Snodgrass in which he defended the decision to use the Holt books. Snodgrass stated his belief that the books were very instructive and attractive and that they substantially enhanced reading skills. He warned that if the appellants were permitted to opt out of the regular reading program and to hold their own alternative classes “teachers would have no control over the management, they could not possibly teach skills in sequential order and the teaching-learning process would become completely unmanageable chaos.”

The “appellees” are school officials (roughly comparable to the “defendants” in a criminal trial). Superintendent Snodgrass made the first argument that would have come to my mind if asked to create a separate “non-offensive” lesson every time I used a story which didn’t overtly promote fundamentalist Christianity. “Are you kidding? I’m not doubling my work load in order to cater to a few, you know… wing nuts!”

Wisely, he didn’t put it that way. He started with what a swell book this particular publication truly is (although I desperately hope he didn’t actually call it “instructive and attractive”), then transitioned into “what they’re asking for isn’t practical.” The problem is that the school’s defense sounds rather whiney this way, and perhaps a tad melodramatic. “B-b-b-but… we couldn’t teach the SKILLS in SEQUENTIAL ORDER and it would all just end up… we mean… CHAOS!”

The district added that any attempt to create a second curriculum to accommodate a specific religious group would run them into trouble with the Establishment Clause. This is a bit like throwing a seatbelt violation onto a speeding ticket, but given the consistency with which the Supreme Court had been condemning perceived establishment violations in the decades leading up to Mozert, it was probably worth a shot.

The (Offensive?) Nature of Public Education

Mozert BoxWhile the general idea of the Superintendent’s complaint is no doubt spot on, I have to wonder why his team didn’t lead with what to me is the much more palatable argument. “We WANT our kids to be exposed to a variety of ideas and beliefs. We’re not telling them what to believe; we’re trying to help them understand how other people think and feel – the essential foundation of all civilization. While the mechanics of grammar and structure may be the foundation of reading instruction, empathy is the heart and soul of all good literature. Teaching them that they don’t have to even be in the room anytime someone around them veers into non-fundamentalism isn’t freedom of religion – it’s freedom from thought, challenge, or diversity. It’s a violation of our ethical and professional obligation to prepare them to function in the real world – socially, professionally, and politically.”

Or something along those lines. And the Court got there on their own, eventually… sort of. I just find it an odd choice – right up there with the parents initially insisting they didn’t want their kids corrupted by deceptive creatures like Anne Frank, because that doesn’t conjure up unpleasant implications or anything.

Speaking of which, it sounds like the appellants (the parents who didn’t like the textbook) at some point revised their list of offending materials a bit. Not sure if this was before or after the case bumped up to the Sixth, but notice how differently this reads than the version we read about in Eastern Tennessee:

Appellants subsequently filed an amended complaint which more specifically set out their reasons for objecting to the Holt books. They claimed that the books were offensive to their religious beliefs because: (1) they teach witchcraft in violation of Biblical precepts against such teaching; (2) they teach that certain values, held to be absolute by appellants, are relative depending upon the situation; (3) they teach that it is proper to be disobedient to parents, despite Biblical precepts to the contrary; (4) they teach that idol worship may be beneficial and that prayer to a horse god may have helped to end World War II, despite the Biblical prohibition against idol worship and belief; (5) they teach that one can achieve salvation simply by having faith in the supernatural without necessarily believing in Jesus; (6) they teach that Jesus needed the help of Jewish scribes to write his story — thus implying that Jesus was illiterate — despite the fact that the Bible says that Jesus was literate and that his story was written by non-Jews; (7) they teach that man evolved from the common ancestors of monkeys in contradiction of the creation story in the Bible; (8) they teach “humanism, . . . one world concepts [and] antinationalism” — values which are contrary to those possessed by appellants.

While I’m still skeptical about the degree to which short stories in a middle school primer truly pushed little people into worshipping horse gods, this list has the significant benefit of not sounding completely insane. One might even begin to wonder if perhaps the touchy-feely, one-gluten-free-world mojo so popular with academic types in the late 1970s might have infiltrated the editorial choices of those most in a position to influence tiny brains. At what point have we raced well past “everyone is different” and ended up lost somewhere between “meat is murder” and “vote Bernie or we all perish”?

It’s Not A Bug; It’s A Feature

Dangerous One World ToleranceBy way of driving their point home, those sneaky fundies had somehow secured a copy of the Teacher’s Edition of the textbook in question – which, for those of you outside the world of public education, is akin to nabbing the Ark of the Covenant from Indiana Jones or remotely hacking celebrity cell phones in order to post their dirty selfies online. The Court explains:

Appellants… cited an essay written by Thomas J. Murphy, Holt’s Senior Vice President for its school book division, which was published in the teacher’s edition of one of the Holt books. In this essay, Murphy noted that school reading programs involve more than simply the teaching of reading skills but also the shaping of students’ ethical values. He contrasted the values of the reading books used previously in the schools with the new Holt books. The former, he indicated, “emphasized a Judeo-Christian values system in a most direct way” while the latter emphasized the need for students “to have a sense of themselves as participants in a national and world community; to understand and to be mindful of the richness of our diversity.”

Appellants alleged that these statements show that the Holt authors rejected the traditional Judeo-Christian values and sought to teach contrary values. Appellants also cited several examples in the books themselves which they claim support their contention, including readings which discuss, without disapproval, Chinese, Islamic and Buddhist philosophy.

Reading isn’t just about the mechanics, the publisher’s Hippie-in-Chief contends – it’s about “shaping students’ ethical values” (and no doubt unblocking their chakras and promoting free love and such). How? By helping students see themselves as part of a larger world in which not everyone is like them.

What the district should have been proclaiming as its strongest defense, the fundamentalists were mic-dropping as irrefutable proof of the overt offense which set them off in the first place.

We’re going to come back to this. It is, in my mind, the most salient issue of the entire case – and the one connecting it in a very real way to major changes in how our nation is choosing to define itself a generation later.

First, however, we should wrap up the 6th Circuit’s decision.

Remanding and Demanding

Summary judgment may be granted only if there is no genuine issue with respect to the material facts of the case… This issue must be resolved on remand by the district court with appropriate findings of fact and conclusions of law.

{T}he state can permissibly impose a burden on an individual’s free exercise rights if the state has a compelling justification for doing so. Appellees insist that their interest in teaching reading to the elementary school students under their charge is just such a compelling interest which would justify the burden imposed on appellants. Further, they argue that to accommodate appellants’ demands would require them to violate the First Amendment’s establishment clause. Appellants, on the hand, insist that their opt-out proposal would not impair appellees’ ability to teach reading since appellees would still be permitted to teach reading with the Holt books to the rest of the student body and appellants would still be required to learn the very same reading skills as the other students, albeit with an alternative book. Again, there is a factual dispute which precludes disposition of the issue on summary judgment. A remand is, therefore, necessary for the district court to make factual findings and conclusions of law on this issue as well as to permit reasonable discovery if requested.

In other words, “We’re not deciding this here, but East Tennessee needs to give it another look – for real, this time – and base their decision on all the total facts available.”

Mozert FoldersJudge Hull of the U.S. District Court for the Eastern District of Tennessee would do just that. As instructed, he’d give the fundamentalists a fuller hearing and – hold on to your powdered wigs – decide that maybe they had a point after all. The first time through, he’d found that because the textbook and the school were entirely neutral towards religion in general or specific religions in particular, there was no First Amendment violation. The second time around (fresh from his scolding by the 6th Circuit), Hull found in favor of the parents and even fined the school district to pay for their legal expenses.  

Ready for the twist?

The case was again appealed to the 6th Circuit Court of Appeals, this time by the school district. The 6th Circuit overturned the verdict because – wait for it – the textbook and the school were entirely neutral towards religion in general or specific religions in general, so there was no First Amendment Violation.

There’s no record of what Judge Hull might have thrown through the wall or any naughty words he may have uttered upon reading their decision.

Next time we’ll look at the district court’s reasons for changing its mind and the 6th Circuit’s (final) determination of why the parents were going to have to be content with private or home schooling. After that, we’ll return to that salient point I mentioned – the part about what schools are supposed to be doing in the first place, and what happens when the druthers of individuals and the good of society starkly clash.

If you’d like to read my surprisingly well-researched, far less speculative, and 97% politically balanced take on the 45 most important cases in Supreme Court History, go buy my book. In the meantime, you can keep getting the unedited, rambling versions of the process right here for free.

court map

A Moment of Silence: Wallace v. Jaffree (1985)

Is It Constitutional Now? How About Now? Or Now?

Three Big Things:

Moment of Silence1. After it became clear that state-sponsored prayer was no longer a realistic option in public education, states began experimenting with the idea of a “moment of silence” during which students could pray (although no one had ever suggested that they couldn’t).

2. Alabama, in particular, kept nudging the idea forward – first it was a “moment of silence,” then a moment in which students might choose to pray, then teachers leading students in “voluntary” prayer, etc.

3. Along the way, one federal judge acknowledged that this was akin to “establishing a state religion,” but determined that was perfectly fine because states could do that. The Supreme Court agreed with the first part of that decision. They did not go along with the second.

Background

In Stone v. Graham (1980), the Court shot down the required posting of the Ten Commandments in public school classrooms. In case anyone had wondered, the Constitution still frowned on pushing religion via the public education system.

But then Reagan took office, and a conservative revolution of sorts swept the nation. At the risk of overdramatizing, the Reagan Era wasn’t just a presidential administration. As President, he championed a sort of American Exceptionalism marinated in Book-of-Revelation Sauce. The passion and righteous zeal of his adherents at times pre-empted reason, law, or precedent. It was a social movement as much as a political shift, comparable to Kennedy’s “Camelot” in impact but quite distinct in its flavor. Evangelicals were emboldened while the media and courts were demonized. Liberals weren’t just political opponents, but America’s enemies – both deceptive and deceived.

It was in this climate that Alabama decided that American Christianity could simply no longer survive without their assistance. It was time to make a statement and test the limits of this silly “wall of separation.” If their righteous fury just happened to appeal to a widely conservative voting base, well… thy will be done.

A Moment Of (Insert Options Here)

In 1978, Alabama passed legislation calling for a “moment of silence” at the start of each school day to allow “for meditation.” They weren’t alone. Many states had instituted some variety of the “moment of silence” after Engel v. Vitale (1962) and Abington v. Schempp (1963) had made it quite clear that overt theological indoctrination or proselytization by representatives of the State were a big “no-no” during the school day.

The “moment of silence” was thus a symbolic move as much as anything. Few non-politicians would argue that taking 5 – 7 seconds (or even the full minute required by some versions) to sit in awkward silence has a measurable impact on students’ mindsets or willingness to learn. Students, of course, had never lost the right to pray whenever and wherever they chose, so long as they did not willfully disrupt classes or become overly aggressive towards the uncooperative. (In other words, they were expected to be better behaved than their political leaders.)

What the “moment of silence” allowed legislatures to do, however, was to step right up to the line of church-state separation and dare the courts to do something about it. Legislators sponsoring these bills often said as much from the floor, dropping subtle little hints like, “We’re doing this because we want to get prayer back into public schools and we dare the courts to do anything about it.”

This reality alone would have been enough to kill any chance of proposed legislation surviving the “Lemon Test,” the first stage of which was that legislation must have a valid secular purpose. It’s possible none of them knew this, but it seems more likely they simply had ulterior motives for pushing the issue anyway. In Alabama, at least, that’s exactly what they did. 

After a few years of a “moment of silence” went by without recorded difficulty, Alabama took things a step further. In 1981, the state legislature updated the statute so that the moment of silence would be presented each day as a time “for mediation and voluntary prayer.” Their momentum building, they upped their game yet again in 1982 and instructed teachers to lead “willing students” in a state-written prayer.
That part, not surprisingly, finally triggered the anticipated backlash.

Pray Or Be Prey

Ishmael Jaffree had three kids in Mobile County Public Schools – two in second grade and one in kindergarten. He protested the state-designed prayer, starting at the building level, but to no avail. Although he had plenty of established case law on his side, he didn’t initially focus on the abstract constitutional issues in play. Jaffree’s primary concern was that his kindergartener was being targeted by other kids for not participating in the prayers. His five-year-old was essentially bullied for not falling into line with state-mandated religious activities, and teachers refused to do much to stop it.

He wasn’t alone. In a similar case going on in West Virginia at the same time, a Jewish student was challenged by peers for quietly reading during the “moment of silence.” He needed to pray, they told him, or he’d “go to hell with the rest of the Jews.”

Yes, the prayer was technically voluntary – but as anyone in education knows, “voluntary” can mean many different things. As had been demonstrated a generation before when young Jehovah’s Witnesses quietly refused to pledge their allegiance to the American flag, it matters whether such choices are defended by those in power. There will always be those who hurt others verbally, physically, or otherwise for not sharing their nationalism or their faith, but there will be far more hurting going on when those in the minority are “otherized” by the State (at any level) because of their beliefs.

Establishing A State Religion?

In an interesting wrinkle, the federal district judge who heard this case as it worked its way through the system chose to ignore precedent and acknowledge that while, yes, Alabama was in effect “establishing” a state religion, they were perfectly within their rights to do so. While the federal government was constrained by the First Amendment, the states were not. “Alabama has the power to establish a State religion if it chooses to do so,” he explained. He even had a few pages of convoluted historical analysis to back this up.

Needless to say, that one caught everyone on both sides pretty much off guard. The decision was quickly reversed by the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals, and the case – not surprisingly – eventually ended up in the Supreme Court. It had already been determined in the lower courts that the first version of the law – the “moment of silence” from 1978 – was constitutionally acceptable. Since no one was disputing that, the Supreme Court acknowledged then ignored it. The Court of Appeals had already declared both the second and third versions of the law unconstitutional based on having no legitimate secular purpose. The Supreme Court accepted without debate that determination regarding version three – where teaches led willing students in a “voluntary” prayer.

What remained to be determined, however, was that middle version – the one about “voluntary meditation or prayer.” Was this establishment, or would shutting it down be a violation of free exercise?

The Decision

The Court determined 6 – 3 that Alabama, in their 1981 version of the “moment of silence” law, had violated the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment as applied to the states via the Fourteenth. They cited testimony from the lawmaker sponsoring the bill, who was – to his credit – upfront about its purpose. Because the changes implemented in 1981 clearly had no valid secular purpose, as required by the “Lemon Test,” the law was unconstitutional.

Justice Sandra Day O’Connor wrote an interesting concurring opinion, supported (but not officially joined) by Justice Lewis F. Powell in his own. O’Connor began by reminding everyone of a fact often lost in the political rhetoric: nothing decided by the Court in any way limited the rights of students to pray individually or collectively at school or anywhere else, so long as they were not overly disruptive to the school day. She used the rest of her concurrence to address two facets of Wallace she believed required a little jurisprudential elaboration. In her own words:

I write separately to identify the peculiar features of the Alabama law that render it invalid, and to explain why moment of silence laws in other States do not necessarily manifest the same infirmity. I also write to explain why neither history nor the Free Exercise Clause of the First Amendment validates the Alabama law struck down by the Court today.

Her historical analysis is interesting enough. Along the way she defends the continued use of the “Lemon Test” while suggesting perhaps it would benefit from some polishing or updating to help maintain its usefulness.
The more relevant part for states and districts post-Wallace, however, is her discussion of similar “moment of silence” laws which may share the goals and even the verbiage of Alabama’s but not its background. In other words, how would this statute – or something very similar – fare if passed without being preceded by the announcement it was intended to be evangelical and almost immediately followed by an “oh just pray with them already!” update? The short version was that they’d probably be fine if they simply avoided being quite so transparent about their religious goals.

While O’Connor expressed confidence the Court could tell the difference between sincere efforts at secular legislation and thinly veiled movements towards state-sponsorship of religion, it’s not much of a leap to infer that the real lesson was that politicians should be a bit less forthcoming about their motivations for this sort of legislation. In short, Alabama had simply made it too obvious what they were trying to do.

Dissents

Each of the three dissenting justices wrote a separate opinion. Justice White’s is brief and not particularly enlightening. The other two, however, are both scathing and poignant. As the balance of power in the nation’s highest court continues to shift, it’s quite possible they’ll find new life in 21st century jurisprudence. It’s not inconceivable they could soon represent the majority view rather than the outraged minority.

Chief Justice Warren Burger primarily disagreed with the idea that the option of voluntarily praying during a moment of silence qualified as government coercion towards religion. He cited other examples of times religion appeared in government functions without great trauma. Burger was particularly unimpressed by the Court’s citations of the law’s sponsor as proof it lacked a valid secular purpose.

Burger pointed out that the comments came after the bill’s passage and were accompanied by an assertion by the same legislator that he simply wanted to make the point that students had every right to pray in school if they so chose. Most significantly, in Burger’s mind, there was no evidence that the comments of one legislator after-the-fact in any way reflected the reasoning of the majority who’d voted to support the legislation in the first place.

Finally, for good measure, he mocks the Court’s use of the “Lemon Test,” calling it a “naive preoccupation with an easy, bright-line approach for addressing constitutional issues.” In short, Burger thinks the majority’s reasoning is absurd and their reactions completely out of proportion to circumstances, and he’s not shy about explaining precisely why.

Justice William Rehnquist (who will eventually become Chief Justice) takes an entirely different approach. His dissent undercuts the validity of the “wall of separation” imagery as an accurate representation of the goal of the First Amendment’s religion clauses to begin with. Most of his dissent is taken up in extended historical analysis of the origins of the Amendment and how very much NOT THERE Jefferson was the entire time. He also cites multiple examples from early American history in which the same men who wrote and ratified the First Amendment clearly didn’t seem to think it prohibited the federal government from proclaiming days of prayer or thanksgiving or otherwise acknowledging the role of the Almighty in their affairs.

It’s a pretty impressive historical case.

In short, Rehnquist prefers Madison’s approach to the “establishment” and “free exercise” clauses – protections from official government religions mandating one flavor of Protestantism over another and severely restricting private religious behavior. The idea that any sort of “wall” – metaphorical or otherwise – was ever intended to be erected between church and state was absurd, according to Rehnquist.

Aftermath

Many other states had similar laws on the books, and others have added them since, without serious constitutional challenge. A “moment of silence” is fine in public schools, as long as there’s no overtly expressed pressure to pray. There’s little to indicate that the 5 – 7 seconds of awkward silence typically beginning morning announcements actually accomplish anything in terms of mentally or emotionally preparing students for the school day, but effectiveness is not part of the “Lemon Test.” All it takes is a plausible assertion of valid secular goals.

Calm, focused students fit that requirement.

“Have To” History: Stone v. Graham (1980)

The following is a first draft for what I hope will become the follow-up to “Have To” History: Landmark Supreme Court Cases. I’m sharing some of the chapters as they’re written, partly to share with you, my Eleven Faithful Followers, and partly because nothing brings out the typos, grammar errors, and other shortcomings like publishing something online. Enjoy.

FOLLOW UP: The final version of this one (and the one that ended up in the book) can be found here.

Thou Shalt Post These In Every Classroom

Three Big Things:

1. Kentucky required that the Ten Commandments be posted in all public school classrooms without comment, but with a little disclaimer underneath about them being the “fundamental legal code of Western civilization.” 

2. The Court applied the “Lemon Test” and determined that the legislation had no clear secular purpose; it was thus a violation of the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment.

3. Whereas recent cases had dealt with efforts to support the secular education of students in religious schools without running afoul of the “wall of separation,” Stone marked a new generation of cases focused on the reverse – seeing just how far religion could be brought back into public schooling.

Background

Ten CommandmentsThe Supreme Court’s decision in Stone v. Graham was announced on November 17th, 1980. Less than two weeks earlier, Ronald Reagan had been elected President of the United States, initiating what would later be called the “Reagan Revolution” – a resurgence of conservative values and policies anchored in an idealized past. The events leading to Stone began years earlier, but its outcome sent a message to the faithful in the 1980s similar to that of Engel v. Vitale and Abington v. Schempp two decades before: American’s fundamental values (meaning public promotion of Christianity) were under attack by intellectual elitists… aka “liberals.” And some of them wore robes.

Less than a month after Stone was decided, John Lennon was assassinated. In January of 1981, Reagan took office and began “making America great again.” The symbolism is purely retrospective; it’s not like the 1970s had been great for either side of the cultural divide. The U.S. had weathered Watergate, Vietnam, and a major energy crisis before succumbing to disco, of all things. Cult-leader “Reverend” Jim Jones had recently led his followers in mass suicide, the horrifying event from which the phrase “drinking the Kool-Aid” was coined. As the new year began, the U.S. was on Day 400-plus of the Iranian Hostage Crisis. Everyone knew the exact number each day because the evening news led with it every night.

The “Miracle on Ice” at the 1980 Olympics was nice, but it already felt like a LONG time ago.

In short, there are many for whom it may not have seemed like such a bad time to try to slip some old-time religion back into the classroom, and nothing was more old-time-y than the Ten Commandments.

Rules to Live By

There’s nothing like a decade or two of perceived dissolution and chaos to make law-and-order look wonderfully shiny and assuring, and the Decalogue fit the bill perfectly. It offered clear guidelines for proper living, literally set in stone, but minus the sort of detailed penalties and depressing legalistic minutia spelled out elsewhere in the Old Testament.

It didn’t hurt that it was more-or-less universally revered – Protestants, Catholics, even Jews liked it! (You know, all the REAL religions.) What more could one ask?

The State of Kentucky required that a copy of the Ten Commandments be posted on the wall of every public school classroom. The Commandments were purchased via private contributions, so no state money was used, and teachers were not required to discuss, promote, or even draw attention to the Commandments so posted. At the bottom of each copy was this explanation:

The secular application of the Ten Commandments is clearly seen in its adoption as the fundamental legal code of Western Civilization and the Common Law of the United States.

And yet, there were a few parents who for some reason thought this might violate the Establishment Clause. The case worked its way through the courts until it was accepted on appeal by the big one.

The Decision

The Court’s 5 – 4 decision was nevertheless issued per curiam, meaning “by the court.” Per curiam decisions are traditionally  for situations in which there was little need to elaborate on constitutional reasoning and the Court was so united as to eliminate the need for an identifiable voice speaking for the whole. Gradually over the course of the 20th century, however, the Court began allowing concurring opinions to per curiam decisions, then dissents… and eventually it became an unacknowledged tool for avoiding personal responsibility for controversial ideas or arguments.

In other words, per curiam opinions periodically allow a degree of avoidance and misdirection from a body otherwise recognized as unflinching and unafraid.

The Court’s anonymous majority opinion revisited the three-part “Lemon Test” laid out less than a decade before in Lemon v. Kurtzman (1971). Part one stated that in order to pass constitutional muster, a law must have a secular purpose to begin with. Clearly, the Court argued, that was not the case here. The Ten Commandments weren’t being used to study the evolution of written law, or in comparative religion, or even as literature or general history. They were just… there.

This is not a case in which the Ten Commandments are integrated into the school curriculum, where the Bible may constitutionally be used in an appropriate study of history, civilization, ethics, comparative religion, or the like. Posting of religious texts on the wall serves no such educational function. If the posted copies of the Ten Commandments are to have any effect at all, it will be to induce the schoolchildren to read, meditate upon, perhaps to venerate and obey, the Commandments. However desirable this might be as a matter of private devotion, it is not a permissible state objective under the Establishment Clause.

Nor was the majority impressed by the State’s “Religious values? Are they really?” defense:

The preeminent purpose for posting the Ten Commandments on schoolroom walls is plainly religious in nature. The Ten Commandments are undeniably a sacred text in the Jewish and Christian faiths, and no legislative recitation of a supposed secular purpose can blind us to that fact…

We conclude that {this legislation} violates the first part of the Lemon v. Kurtzman test, and thus the Establishment Clause of the Constitution.

Having failed the first test, there was no reason to discuss the remaining two. End of story.

The Dissent(s)

Four justices disagreed, but only one went to the trouble to elaborate as to why. Judging from his tone, Justice William Rehnquist (who’d later become Chief Justice) was shocked and a tad appalled that the Court wouldn’t simply take state legislators at face value when they explained that posting religious laws without context in every school classroom regardless of age level or subject matter was actually part of a very important historical lesson on the evolution of Occidental jurisprudence. Because isn’t that normally how lesson plans are put together – mass stapling of posters paid for by outsiders?

Rehnquist quotes from previous decisions extensively and rather effectively:

The Establishment Clause does not require that the public sector be insulated from all things which may have a religious significance or origin. This Court has recognized that “religion has been closely identified with our history and government” (Abington School District v. Schempp, 1963) and that “[t]he history of man is inseparable from the history of religion” (Engel v. Vitale, 1962). Kentucky has decided to make students aware of this fact by demonstrating the secular impact of the Ten Commandments…

What was arguably his strongest rhetorical moment, however, came in one of his footnotes:

The Court’s emphasis on the religious nature of the first part of the Ten Commandments is beside the point. The document as a whole has had significant secular impact, and the Constitution does not require that Kentucky students see only an expurgated or redacted version containing only the elements with directly traceable secular effects.

Aftermath

Stone was one of the first cases to rule that even a “passive display” of religion could nevertheless violate the Establishment Clause. It was from this reasoning the Court would subsequently take issue with certain government-sponsored Christmas displays and other state-sanctioned religious ceremonies. The Ten Commandments in particular would become a symbolic “line in the sand” on various state capital grounds or displayed in a public building or two. Consistent with the Court’s decision in Stone, decisions in those future cases would often come down to context – where were they posted, how were they presented, and why were they included?

The 1980s would see a minor explosion of cases directly or indirectly related to the “wall of separation” between religion and public education. The question of equitable facility usage became a thing – can schools who allow community groups to meet on school grounds after-hours deny the same opportunity to religious groups? (Spoiler: Nope.) Indirect aid to religious institutions via tax credits for parents, secular school supplies, or simply sending over teachers kept coming before the Court, always in slightly different forms and forcing the Court to continually revise their solutions. There was even a brief foray into “Evolution vs. Creationism” before the decade was out. 

By far the most interesting cases, however, would be ever-shifting efforts to circumvent Engel, Abington, and the rest by testing one problematic element at a time. Eventually, all sorts of religious expression in public schools would be framed as “student led,” but in the 80s it started much more simply. What if schools weren’t posting commandments, reading Bible verses, or leading students in prayers? What if every day simply began with a… “moment of silence”?

Turns out that one will be hard to dispute, no matter how obvious the intent. The right was finally going to have a few wins.

RELATED POST: A Wall of Separation – The Ten Commandments (Part One)

RELATED POST: A Wall of Separation – The Ten Commandments (Part Two)

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“Have To” History: Wisconsin v. Yoder (1972)

I’m working on a follow-up to “Have To” History: Landmark Supreme Court Cases. I haven’t settled on a title yet, but the content seems to revolve around cases involving church-state separation in relation to public schools – and there are a LOT of them. I’m posting first drafts as I go, partly to share with you, my Eleven Faithful Followers, and partly because nothing brings out the typos, grammar errors, and other shortcomings like publishing something online.

“Normally I’d Agree With You, But Come On… It’s the AMISH!”

Background

Wisconsin v. Yoder (1972)

Orthodox Amish and your more conservative Mennonites are a fairly traditional bunch. While popular culture tends to oversimplify their beliefs and caricaturize their lifestyles, it’s fair to say that in general they prefer to avoid excessive entanglement with the modern world. The Amish tend to be a bit more separatist overall, preferring to remain in their own communities and interact with the world as little as possible. Contemporary Mennonites, on the other hand, can be difficult to spot until you notice the social justice bumper sticker on their hybrid parked tranquilly in the church lot.

Even these are overgeneralizations, however. Both faiths encompass a wide range of approaches to appearance, behavior, technology, and interactions with outsiders. What’s fairly consistent across the spectrum is a prioritization of family and community over wealth, convenience, or individual accomplishment, and of course a particularly devout commitment to their Christian faith. From these ideals stem all the rest – the horses and buggies, the dashing hats and svelte black coats, the aversion to technology, and that wacky love of hard work and simple living. 

In short, it’s not about whether electricity or shopping at Target is “evil;” it’s about what best serves the spirit over the flesh and the community over the individual. As it turns out, that was the issue in the early 1970s when Jonas Yoder and Wallace Miller, both Old Order Amish, and Adin Yutzy, a Conservative Amish Mennonite, pulled their children out of public school in Wisconsin after they’d successfully completed the 8th grade. They argued that while a basic education was fine – maybe even necessary – high school itself was too full of behaviors, ideologies, and subject matter which brazenly violated their religious beliefs and priorities. Rather than expect the school system to change to accommodate their faith (that wouldn’t be a very Amish approach), they simply removed their children from the system.

It’s not like the Amish or Conservative Mennonites let their kids lay around in their underwear eating Doritos and playing video games all day. Teenagers were expected to help care for animals, raise crops, cook and sew, or otherwise labor their little hearts out while learning essential skills for a long, healthy life in their respective communities. It seems unlikely their counterparts at the local high school were keeping a similar pace.

Amish You So Much

Amish Target

Wisconsin law required that kids be in school SOMEWHERE – public or private was up to the parents – until they were at least 16. Yoder, Miller, and Yutzy were prosecuted for violating state law and the case went to trial with Jonas Yoder acting on behalf of the group. While he was no doubt a capable individual, the Amish and Conservative Mennonites aren’t big on using the court system to resolve their difficulties. They do not, by and large, sue people for damages or seek legal recourse for minor infractions. An “Amish Lawyer” would be about as common as a “Shiite Stripper” or a “Hindu Butcher.”

The original court, in an effort to remain consistent with existing Supreme Court jurisprudence, determined that the requirement that parents keep their kids in school until the age of 16 was a valid secular state function. While there was no doubt that the Amish and Mennonites had genuine religious objections (they weren’t using religion as a pragmatic excuse for illegal behavior), that didn’t override the larger needs of the state as a whole. The families were convicted of violating Wisconsin law regarding mandatory school attendance, and each fined $5.00.

$5.00, as it happens, was the minimum penalty allowed by the statute in question. It doesn’t seem like too much of a leap to infer that while the court was willing to adhere to the letter of the law, they perhaps lacked the passion to make an example of these bearded rebels.

It was at this point that a Lutheran minister by the name of William C. Lindholm came on board. While he may not have shared the defendants’ precise theology, he supported their claims to religious freedom. The case was appealed to the Wisconsin Circuit Court, which affirmed the lower court’s decision, then to the State Supreme Court, which reversed it on the grounds that Wisconsin hadn’t actually demonstrated that there was anything about going to high school which was SO essential to the public good that it justified overriding the “free exercise” of the families involved.

It was now the State of Wisconsin’s turn to appeal (which is why their name is first in the title), and the case reached the Supreme Court.

The Decision

Walking Amish

The Court, in a sort-of-unanimous decision, supported the Amish. Chief Justice Warren Burger wrote the Majority Opinion. Two Justices (Lewis F. Powell Jr. and William H. Rehnquist) abstained, as they’d joined the Court after the case had been heard. Justice Stewart wrote a very brief (and odd) concurrence, in which he was joined by Justice Brennan. Justice White added a longer (and slightly less odd) concurrence, in which he was joined by both Brennan AND Stewart. And Justice Douglas filed a dissent, in which he was joined by no one, and in which he supported the Court’s majority decision.

For such a landmark case, this one was a bit of a mess. Imagine if it HADN’T been unanimous…

Chief Justice Burger’s Majority Opinion took a three-step approach to explaining the Court’s rationale. First, he addressed the question of whether the beliefs in question were legit (as opposed to being conjured up pragmatically to justify illegal behavior or otherwise falling outside commonly accepted definitions of “religion”). After sharing a history lesson on the Amish, Burger determined that they and their spin-offs were all widely-recognized and well-respected forms of traditional American Christianity.

Since this had never actually been challenged, it’s worth asking why Burger would devote so much energy to “establishing” the validity of the Amish and their ilk as religious communities. The most obvious explanation is the Court’s constant awareness that everything they say and do becomes precedent for every other court, both present and future, at every level across the nation. Thus, a degree of respectful delineation is often appropriate. One can’t help but suspect, however, that there’s a secondary motivation for Burger’s cautious venture into historical apologetics. He was in many ways laying the groundwork for the Court’s almost paradoxical decision: “Look, we agree with the State in theory – in most circumstances they’d be correct and we don’t want anyone else to get carried away and think they can do whatever they want in the name of religion. But, dude… this is the AMISH.”

He put it a bit more jurisprudentially than that.

Step two was to examine whether or not the law in question created a substantial burden for the beliefs validated in step one: 

The impact of the compulsory attendance law on respondents’ practice of the Amish religion is not only severe, but inescapable, for the Wisconsin law affirmatively compels them, under threat of criminal sanction, to perform acts undeniably at odds with fundamental tenets of their religious beliefs… It carries with it precisely the kind of objective danger to the free exercise of religion that the First Amendment was designed to prevent…

{T}he unchallenged testimony of acknowledged experts in education and religious history, almost 300 years of consistent practice, and strong evidence of a sustained faith pervading and regulating respondents’ entire mode of life support the claim that enforcement of the State’s requirement of compulsory formal education after the eighth grade would gravely endanger, if not destroy, the free exercise of respondents’ religious beliefs.

So that would be a “yes.”

Finally, the Court asked whether or not the state’s interest in pushing public education beyond 8th grade was substantial enough to justify overriding the rights of Amish parents to keep their kids home doing other things. At that point, there was no way to avoid substantial subjectivity, despite the Court’s effort to frame their response in terms of precedential cases and constitutional reasoning. Despite the substance of their decision, they seemed uncomfortable straying too far from the “belief-action” distinction established in Reynolds v. United States (1879).

Beliefs v. Actions (Place Your Bets)

Amish Church

Reynolds was a polygamy case. Mormons insisted the practice was part of their “free exercise” of religion. It didn’t hurt anyone and involved only consenting adults. Dominant American culture countered with “Eeewww! Weird!” and the courts were included to agree. Given that “Gross!” was a rather weak constitutional argument, they instead proffered the “belief-action” theory – you can BELIEVE whatever you like, thanks to the First Amendment, but the law can still set limits on what you can DO. In other words, freedom of religion is not absolute. The State has a right and an obligation to pass rules that help hold society together, which includes not letting people just go and marry whoever they want as many times as they want and then go about their business like it wasn’t totally “OMGWHAT?!”

Again, they put it a bit more formally.

Strictly construed, this same reasoning would prescribe that while the Amish and their ilk were welcome to BELIEVE whatever they liked about public schooling and the values of the modern world destroying their youth, that didn’t mean they could ACT on it without consequences. The Court wasn’t quite ready to go there, however, instead choosing to remind us a half-dozen more times what nifty folks the Amish were and how well they seemed to get along without telephones or nuclear power or public assistance. All the usual reasons given for why kids needed to stay in school – to get good jobs, to become informed voters, to grow into productive members of society – the Amish already had covered quite convincingly.

The Court had already been quietly pulling back from this “belief-action” ideology, despite paying it clarified respects in Wisconsin and then becoming infatuated with it again in subsequent cases. Major decisions were finding more and more instances in which sincerely held religious beliefs were enough to offset otherwise valid laws or policies. (In the most famous of these,  Sherbert v. Verner (1963), the Court required the State of South Carolina to pay unemployment to a Seventh Day Adventist who was fired for refusing to work on Saturdays, despite specifically guaranteeing protection for those who might object to working on Sundays. The burden thus imposed on Seventh Day Adventists exclusively violated their right to “free exercise” of their faith.)

Aftermath

Amish Horse & Buggy

The ultimate import of Wisconsin v. Yoder was – and is – to some extent “in the eye of the beholder.” It’s easily read as strengthening parental rights over their children’s education, a principle established in prior cases but without the overtly religious motivation seen here. It was certainly a major victory for the Amish and their ilk, but to what extent similar exemptions would apply to other religious groups was uncertain.

On the other hand, the Court’s written opinion certainly suggested that one of the primary reasons the Amish didn’t have to obey this particular law was because their theology, lifestyle, and work ethic fit closely enough with the larger ideals of traditional American culture without directly participating in the modern version more than necessary. If a primary purpose of Supreme Court jurisprudence is to offer guidance and consistency going forward, a decision built around the exception to several already uncertain “rules” wasn’t exactly ideal.

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