The Supreme Court building with constitutional text and judicial opinions layered in the background, rendered in sepia tones

The Activists Who Said They Weren't

How a conservative legal movement rewrote American law from the 1980s to today. For forty years, the conservative legal movement has sold a deceptively simple ethic: judges should interpret, not make, the law. The method was restraint; the result was revolution.

How a conservative legal movement rewrote American law from the 1980s to today

By a regulated optimist who grades in pencil, votes with both hands, and still believes maps should tell the truth.

I. The vow of restraint—and the revolution it hid

For forty years, the conservative legal movement has sold a deceptively simple ethic: judges should interpret, not make, the law. In the pamphlet version, this creed rescued the Constitution from "activist" courts. In the ledger version—the one that counts—it powered the most consequential judicial renovation since the New Deal, striking federal and state laws, overruling precedents, and re-tilting the balance among Congress, the presidency, and the agencies that actually make government work.

Call it the paradox of restraint that acts like conquest. By invoking history, tradition, and text, a majority has often worked dramatic change—on guns, money in politics, voting, unions, climate regulation, presidential power, and the administrative state itself. The method was restraint; the result was revolution.

This is a tour—neither bitter nor blind—of that long revolution: where it started, how it moved, and what to do now that it governs us.

II. The Rehnquist turn: federalism with teeth

The renovation began in the 1990s, when the Court—for the first time since 1937—told Congress that the Commerce Clause had limits a federal statute could actually hit. In United States v. Lopez (1995), the justices invalidated the Gun-Free School Zones Act, insisting that mere possession of a handgun near a school was not "economic" activity Congress could regulate. United States v. Morrison (2000) repeated the lesson, striking the civil-remedy provision of the Violence Against Women Act. This was not a seminar; it was a map redraw.

Meanwhile, the Court revived state sovereign immunity. Seminole Tribe v. Florida (1996) limited Congress's power to subject states to private suits under Article I powers; Alden v. Maine (1999) extended that immunity into state courts. The practical message was clear: Congress could not simply conscript the states into federal liability by statute.

And in Printz v. United States (1997), the Court announced an anti-commandeering rule with a novelist's flair: Washington may not order local sheriffs to carry out its background checks. The opinion wore originalist tailoring; the fit was aggressively modern, limiting federal means in the name of state dignity.

None of this used the word "activism." All of it moved law.

III. Bush v. Gore: the emergency method

Then came 2000. Bush v. Gore stopped a recount and effectively settled a presidential election. The per curiam opinion framed the holding as limited to its facts; the consequence was maximal. A generation of court-watchers concluded an awkward truth: a Court that preached minimalism would, when it mattered, decide.

IV. The Roberts years, Part I (pre-2020): "neutral principles," radical effects

Under Chief Justice Roberts, the rhetoric grew smoother while the knife moved faster.

Guns. District of Columbia v. Heller (2008) read the Second Amendment to protect an individual right unconnected to militia service; McDonald v. Chicago (2010) applied it to the states. Whatever one thinks of the history, the holdings remapped the modern regulatory landscape overnight.

Money in politics. Citizens United v. FEC (2010) invalidated restrictions on independent electioneering by corporations and unions—the most famous deregulatory opinion of the era. As the Brennan Center succinctly puts it, the decision tilted campaign influence toward the wealthy and organizational spenders.

Voting rules. Crawford v. Marion County (2008) upheld strict photo-ID voting rules; Shelby County v. Holder (2013) disabled the Voting Rights Act's Section 5 preclearance by striking the coverage formula in Section 4(b). Within hours of Shelby, several states enacted restrictions that had been previously blocked. The majority said circumstances had changed; many legislatures took the hint.

Racial integration in schools. Parents Involved (2007) curtailed the ability of districts to use race in voluntary assignment plans. The line remembered in education circles—"the way to stop discrimination on the basis of race is to stop discriminating on the basis of race"—was elegant minimalism with maximal effects.

Labor. Janus v. AFSCME (2018) overruled Abood and barred mandatory agency fees in the public sector—an earthquake for unions that organize teachers, nurses, and public employees.

Partisan maps. Rucho v. Common Cause (2019) declared partisan gerrymandering claims nonjusticiable in federal court. That's not "restraint"; it is a choice to leave a constitutional injury without a federal forum.

The ACA. NFIB v. Sebelius (2012) saved the individual mandate as a tax, but announced that the Commerce Clause could not sustain it—another doctrinal nudge with lasting teeth.

Workplace equity. Ledbetter v. Goodyear (2007) narrowed when pay discrimination claims accrue; Congress swiftly reversed it with the 2009 Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act. The Court limited, the legislature answered—federalism at work, but also a reminder that "textualism" can bite before politics can heal.

Empiricists have tried to measure "activism" by the frequency with which the Court invalidates laws or overrules precedents. The results vary, but a consistent finding is that conservative justices have, term after term, voted more often to strike than their rhetoric implies, and the Roberts Court has not been shy about muscular interventions on the most contested terrain.

V. The Roberts years, Part II (2020→): method as a machine

After 2020 the gears whirred.

Abortion. Dobbs (2022) overruled Roe and Casey, returning abortion regulation to the states. The majority rested on history and tradition; the effect was immediate statutory divergence and medical chaos across jurisdictions.

Guns, again. Bruen (2022) rewrote the test for Second Amendment cases around "history and tradition," invalidating New York's proper-cause regime and spawning dozens of challenges to modern gun laws.

Climate and agencies. West Virginia v. EPA (2022) announced the "major questions" doctrine as a brake on transformative agency action without crystal-clear congressional authorization. Then Loper Bright (2024) overruled Chevron, ending four decades of routine deference to reasonable agency interpretations. In Corner Post (2024) the Court extended the window to attack old rules, and in Jarkesy (2024) it curtailed in-house agency adjudication for civil penalties. If you want a theory of government that is both "restrained" and world-changing, this is it.

Race and speech. Students for Fair Admissions (2023) ended race-conscious admissions at Harvard and UNC; 303 Creative (2023) recognized a First Amendment right to refuse custom expressive services even where a public-accommodations law would prohibit discrimination. Both cases married expressive or equality claims to a thick originalist or textualist method—and both remade on-the-ground practices.

Presidential power. Trump v. United States (2024) recognized significant criminal immunity for official acts—a separation-of-powers defense that will shape executive accountability for decades.

Add in the Court's heavy use of the emergency docket to redirect law without full briefing, and you get a jurisprudence that changes the room while promising not to move the furniture.

VI. "Activism," honestly defined

The word "activism" is a mess. But if we define it operationally—overruling precedent, invalidating legislation, re-allocating institutional power in big bites—then the conservative legal movement has been activist by any candid measure. Political scientists like Lee Epstein and colleagues have shown that, across late-20th- and early-21st-century terms, conservative justices often led votes to invalidate federal, state, and local laws. Even sympathetic analysts place the Roberts Court near the top in willingness to reshape doctrine on salient questions.

That is not a moral indictment. It is a description. And it exposes the central hypocrisy of the last forty years: a movement that derides "judge-made law" while remaking law through judging. The method—originalism, textualism, "history and tradition," separation-of-powers formalism—has coherence and craft. But its outcomes have been muscular, not modest.

VII. What changed in the world you can touch

Democracy. Shelby County hollowed preclearance; Rucho closed the federal door on partisan maps; Crawford hardened ID rules. Today, ballot access fights run through fractured state courts and legislatures rather than a uniform federal standard.

Work & organizing. Janus cut public-sector unions' stable funding; after Citizens United, outside spending flooded federal and state races, reshaping incentives from city halls to school boards.

Guns & safety. HellerMcDonaldBruen built a rights architecture that has forced courts to re-evaluate modern restrictions under an 18th/19th-century evidentiary lens. Lower courts are still sorting what counts as an historical analogue.

Climate & health. West Virginia, Loper Bright, and Corner Post narrowed agencies' flex to meet new risks without very specific congressional text and invited litigation against long-standing rules. Expect more policymaking by statute and more gridlock when Congress stalls.

The presidency. Trump v. United States arms future executives with robust immunity for "official" acts; the law of accountability now turns on how courts define that perimeter.

The aggregate is not conservative in the small-c sense; it is transformative. The center of legal gravity has moved.

VIII. A constructive program for legislatures, agencies, and cities (how to govern in the new air)

  1. Write statutes for the major-questions world. If you want an agency to act on big problems, say so with clear statements: enumerate tools, targets, and the bounds of authority. Don't hide elephants; label them and give them leashes. Drafting for durability beats litigating for luck.

  2. Legislate interpretive rules. Congress can codify canons: tell courts to consider scientific and technical record evidence when statutory terms are ambiguous, or to respect agency expertise on specified subjects. Chevron is gone; Congress can still specify who should decide what.

  3. Bank your facts. After Corner Post, old rules can face new plaintiffs. Build periodic reaffirmations into regulations, refresh cost-benefit analyses, and maintain public technical dockets so a court reviewing in 2032 sees a living record, not a dusty file.

  4. Design for litigation. Every significant rule should ship with a litigation impact statement: venue strategy, severability clauses, fallback provisions, and emergency-docket plans. Agencies need appellate muscle, not just policy brains.

  5. Use state constitutions. When federal courts exit (see Rucho), state courts under state constitutions often remain open. Design reform through home charters: independent redistricting commissions, expansive ballot-access rights, state non-delegation clauses tuned for modern governance.

  6. Leverage municipal authority. Cities can drive outcomes with procurement, building codes, and franchising. Even in a narrowed federal frame, local law still sets health, climate, and safety baselines that courts traditionally respect.

  7. Teach institutional literacy. Law schools and MPA programs should train a generation who can write post-Chevron statutes and major-questions-proof regulations. The syllabus changed; the pipeline must too.

IX. A modest defense of method—and a rebuttal to its abuse

Originalism and textualism, done seriously, can discipline judicial whimsy. They demand public reasons and constraint. But as Bruen illustrated, a method can become a machine that selects its own inputs—choosing whose "history" counts and which periods qualify as "tradition." When methods regularly erase contemporary expertise (public health, grid operations, climate science) in favor of law-office historiography, they stop being constraints and start being preferences with citations.

Likewise, the shadow docket can be a necessary tool for emergencies; it can also be an opaque lever for world-changing orders without the sunlight of briefing and argument. Transparency is not a luxury in a constitutional democracy; it is the price of obedience.

X. Three vignettes (because doctrine is a place)

1) A school board meeting in Louisville.
A parent reads the Parents Involved line—"stop discriminating by race"—as a promise that her kid will get the neighborhood school. A civil-rights alum hears it as the end of a careful, brittle integration plan. Both are right, and the bus routes prove it.

2) A city attorney in Phoenix.
She's revising a building-electrification ordinance. Her memo is an index of clear statements and fallback severability, drafted for major questions and a post-Chevron world. It is less poetry than plumbing—and it will keep the lights on.

3) A newsroom in Milwaukee.
Producers decide which election-law change to explain first: the new ID rule, the closed precinct, or the lawsuit about ballot curing the state Supreme Court might revive. The chyron says "voter education." The script is federalism in real time.

XI. The honest name for what happened

So: was the conservative legal movement "activist"? The better question is whether it exercised power modestly. On the evidence—statutes struck, precedents overruled, agencies pared back, electoral rules rewritten—the answer is no. It exercised power boldly, often brilliantly, sometimes recklessly, and almost always while promising to do less than it did.

There is a literary term for that: irony. The civic term is governance. We should respond with governance of our own—statutes that speak clearly, agencies that build thick records, cities that act where they can, state constitutions that supply rights when federal ones thin, and a public that reads the footnotes not as doom but as instructions.

In the long run, the law is a set of habits. We can write new ones. That's restraint I can live with.

Sources (validated)

Commerce Clause & federalism: United States v. Lopez (1995); United States v. Morrison (2000); Printz v. United States (1997); Seminole Tribe v. Florida (1996); Alden v. Maine (1999).

Election 2000: Bush v. Gore (2000) (opinion; Oyez; Britannica summary).

Guns: District of Columbia v. Heller (2008); McDonald v. Chicago (2010); Bruen (2022) (opinions & SCOTUSblog).

Campaign finance: Citizens United v. FEC (2010) (opinion/overview; Brennan Center explainer).

Voting rights & maps: Crawford v. Marion County (2008); Shelby County v. Holder (2013); Rucho v. Common Cause (2019).

Education integration: Parents Involved (2007) (Oyez/Justia/Wikipedia summary).

Labor unions: Janus v. AFSCME (2018) (opinion; program summaries).

ACA power: NFIB v. Sebelius (2012).

Workplace equity & congressional override: Ledbetter (2007); accounts of the 2009 Act.

Post-2020 shifts: Dobbs (2022); West Virginia v. EPA (2022); SFFA (2023); 303 Creative (2023); Loper Bright (2024); Corner Post (2024); SEC v. Jarkesy (2024); Trump v. United States (2024).

Emergency/"shadow" docket discussion: Vladeck overview and related reporting.

Empirical context on "activism" and Court behavior: Epstein et al., Is the Roberts Court Especially Activist?; Empirical SCOTUS term reviews.