From  Electronic  Media  Law  and  Regulation  5th  Ed.  By  Kenneth  C.  Creech  Published  by  Focal  Press,  Boston  MA  (2007)  For  Scholarship  Only.    2  Interpreting  the  First  Amendment    History  of  Free  Speech  in  America    The  English  Heritage    The  development  of  the  law  of  free  speech  and  press  in  the  United  States,  like  most  American  law,  has  its  roots  in  England.  The  British  model  was  imported  to  the  colonies  and  included  a  tradition  that  supports  punishment  for  the  publication  of  seditious  libel.  Prohibition  against  seditious  libel  began  in  1275  with  the  enactment  of  De  Scandalis  Magnatum,  which  provided  for  imprisonment  of  anyone  who  disseminated  false  statements  about  the  king  that  caused  discord  between  the  king  and  his  subjects.  The  statute  of  De  Scandalis  Magnatum,  as  eventually  administered  by  the  infamous  Star  Chamber,  was  responsible  for  the  evolution  of  English  censorship  and  seditious  libel  law.  The  original  Star  Chamber  was  part  of  the  king’s  council,  which  sat  in  a  chamber  of  stars  (or  camera  stellata)  at  Westminster  and  was  first  called  the  Star  Chamber  during  the  reign  of  King  Edward  Ill  in  the  fourteenth  century.  In  1585,  the  Star  Chamber  passed  an  ordinance  that  required  all  publications  to  be  licensed  and  printed  by  the  Star  Chamber-­‐sanctioned  Stationer’s  Company.  The  Star  Chamber  controlled  all  printing  and  publishing  in  England  until  it  was  abolished  by  the  Long  Parliament  in  1641.  During  this  time,  the  Star  Chamber  meted  out  punishments  to  violators  as  it  saw  fit.  In  one  case,  an  author  who  expressed  a  dislike  for  acting  and  actors  was  fined  £10,000,  given  a  sentence  of  life  in  prison,  branded  on  his  forehead,  and  had  his  nose  slit  and  his  ears  cut  off.  The  Star  Chamber  viewed  the  criticism  of  actors  as  an  insult  against  the  queen  (and  hence  the  government)  because  she  had  recently  taken  part  in  a  play.1  Although  the  Star  Chamber  ceased  to  exist  in  1641,  the  English  Parliament  continued  to  harass  printers  and  publishers  through  the  Stationer’s  Company  and  other  forms  of  licensing.  No  work  could  be  printed  legally  without  the  approval  of  the  stationers,  who  issued  licenses.  The  stationers  served  as  absolute  censors  and  refused  to  allow  publication  of  material  deemed  offensive  to  them.  It  should  be  noted  that  this  concept  of  censorship  is  not  limited  to  archaic  or  authoritarian  governments.  In  spite  of  the  First  Amendment,  censorship  of  this  kind  can  be  found  as  late  as  the  1960s  in  the  United  States.  Some  American  cities  had  film  licensing  boards  that  screened  motion  pictures  to  determine  their  suitability  for  exhibition.  Many  of  these  licensing  boards  exercised  capricious  judgment  and  refused  to  grant  exhibition  licenses  for  a  variety  of  reasons.  For  example,  the  one-­‐person  licensing  board  in  Memphis,  Tennessee,  refused  to  allow  theaters  in  that  city  to  show  Ingrid  Bergman  films,  noting  that  her  “soul  was  as  black  as  the  soot  of  hell.”2  The  censor  found  Miss  Bergman’s  bearing  of  a  child  out  of  wedlock  to  be  morally  reprehensible.  

Under  the  British  Licensing  Acts  of  the  period,  authors  and  printers  of  “obnoxious  works”  were  hanged,  quartered,  mutilated,  or  simply  fined  and  imprisoned  “according  to  the  temper  of  the  judges.”3  It  was  in  protest  of  this  licensing  act  that  John  Milton  wrote  the  famous  Areopagitica  in  1644.  Milton’s  call  for  a  free  press  in  England  is  important  to  Americans,  because  his  reasoning  served  as  the  philosophical  basis  for  the  marketplace-­‐of-­‐ideas  theory  of  First  Amendment  interpretation.  Milton  wrote,    And  though  all  the  winds  of  doctrine  were  let  loose  to  play  upon  the  earth,  so  Truth  be  in  the  field,  we  do  injuriously  by  licensing  and  prohibiting  to  misdoubt  her  strength.  Let  her  and  Falsehood  grapple;  whoever  knew  Truth  put  to  the  worse,  in  a  free  and  open  encounter?4    The  sentiments  expressed  by  Milton  in  the  seventeenth  century  found  their  way  into  American  law  275  years  later  in  the  dissenting  opinion  of  Justice  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  in  Abrams  v.  United  States.  In  Holmes’s  view,  truth  is  best  attained  when  all  ideas  are  free  to  compete  in  the  marketplace  for  acceptance.  Therefore,  any  restraints  by  government  tend  to  obscure  the  search  for  truth.  The  English  Licensing  Acts  were  renewed  in  1662,  in  1685,  and  again  in  1692.  Essentially,  the  acts  forbade  all  printing  without  a  license  and  gave  the  king’s  agents  the  authority  to  search  all  houses  and  shops  in  which  they  suspected  unlicensed  books  were  being  printed  and  to  seize  them.  When  the  licensing  acts  expired  in  1695,  they  were  not  renewed  by  the  British  Parliament.  Although  this  signaled  the  end  of  press  censorship  in  England,  printers  were  by  no  means  free  to  publish  material  that  might  be  deemed  seditious  or  treasonable.  Nevertheless,  newspapers  began  to  flourish  and  the  press  became  an  outlet  for  political  expression.  Because  this  expression  was  often  critical  of  those  in  power,  the  governing  bodies  sought  new  ways  to  silence  the  press.  A  return  to  licensing  was  proposed,  but  rejected.  Instead,  Parliament  adopted  a  less  direct  form  of  censorship  when  it  passed  the  Stamp  Act  in  1712.  The  Stamp  Act  was  designed  to  eliminate  the  small  newspapers  that  published  the  kind  of  material  most  disturbing  to  the  government.  The  Stamp  Act  placed  a  stiff  tax  on  newspapers,  pamphlets,  advertising,  and  paper.  The  act  required  that  publications  be  registered  with  the  government,  which  made  it  easier  for  those  in  power  to  control  the  dissemination  of  information.  This  means  of  controlling  printed  material  in  England  continued  until  1855.  Punishment  for  seditious  libel  continued  as  common  law  throughout  the  eighteenth  and  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  centuries.  Publishers  were  punished  for  criticizing  foreign  policy,  the  conduct  of  the  king,  or  any  other  public  official.  This  criticism  was  thought  to  weaken  the  authority  of  the  government.  The  truth  or  falsity  of  the  publication  was  immaterial.  Although  Fox’s  Libel  Act  of  1792  allowed  a  jury  to  acquit  a  publisher  charged  with  sedition  if  it  thought  the  publication  was  not  seditious,  it  was  not  until  1843,  with  the  passage  of  Lord  Campbell’s  act,  that  the  modern  concept  of  freedom  of  the  press  began  to  formulate.  This  act  made  truth  a  defense  in  libel  claims.  This  defense  was  already  legal  in  America  at  the  time.  Twelve  years  later,  the  Stamp  Act  was  repealed  and  freedom  of  the  press  was  realized  in  England.    

The  American  Experience    The  issues  of  free  speech  and  press  in  America  essentially  paralleled  developments  in  England,  but  moved  much  more  quickly.  Licensing  in  the  colonies  followed  the  same  pattern  as  in  England.  In  1662,  Massachusetts  appointed  two  licensers,  without  whose  permission  nothing  could  be  printed.  In  1664,  the  colony  passed  a  law  that  established  Cambridge  as  the  only  legal  site  for  printing  presses,  which  were  regulated  by  the  licensers.  The  Boston  News  Letter,  which  was  published  between  1704  and  1776,  carried  the  phrase  “Published  by  Authority”  under  its  nameplate.  This  meant  that  the  paper  contained  stories  approved  by  the  colonial  governor.  Licensing  was  also  the  rule  in  Pennsylvania  and  Virginia,  where  even  the  laws  of  the  colony  could  not  be  printed  without  a  license.  Between  1639  and  1776,  numerous  publishers  and  editors  were  prosecuted  in  the  colonies  on  charges  ranging  from  criticism  of  religious  doctrines  to  seditious  libel.  One  of  the  most  celebrated  trials  was  that  of  John  Peter  Zenger  in  New  York.  Zenger  was  the  printer  of  the  New  York  Weekly  Journal,  a  newspaper  devoted  to  the  opposition  of  controversial  New  York  Governor  William  Cosby.  The  Journal  was  the  first  independent  political  paper  published  in  America.  Oddly  enough,  although  the  editor  of  the  paper,  James  Alexander,  wrote  most  of  the  material  critical  of  the  governor,  Zenger  (the  printer)  was  jailed  for  seditious  libel.  Zenger  was  charged  with  printing    .  .  .  false  news  and  seditious  libels,  both  wickedly  and  maliciously  devising  the  administration  of  His  Excellency  William  Cosby,  Captain  General  and  Governor  in  Chief  to  traduce,  scandalize  and  vilify  both  His  Excellency  the  Governor  and  the  ministers  and  officers  of  the  king  and  to  bring  them  into  suspicion  and  the  ill  opinion  of  the  subjects  of  the  king  residing  within  the  Province.  .  .  .5    The  New  York  Weekly  Journal  had  been  published  for  about  six  months  before  Zenger’s  arrest.  Among  the  items  the  governor  found  objectionable  is  the  following  passage:    We  see  men’s  deeds  destroyed,  judges  arbitrarily  displaced,  new  courts  created  without  consent  of  the  legislature  by  which  it  seems  to  me  trial  by  jury  is  taken  away  when  a  Governor  pleases,  and  men  of  known  estates  denied  their  votes  contrary  of  the  received  practice,  the  best  expositor  of  any  law.  Who  is  there  then  in  that  Province  that  can  call  anything  his  own,  or  enjoy  any  liberty,  longer  than  those  in  the  administration  will  condescend  to  let  them  do  it?6    Andrew  Hamilton,  a  Quaker  lawyer  from  Philadelphia,  defended  Zenger.  In  a  surprising  move,  Hamilton  admitted  that  Zenger  had  published  the  materials,  but  in  an  eloquent  argument  to  the  jury,  he  asserted  that  the  statements  about  the  governor  were  true.  At  this  time,  truth  was  not  a  defense  in  libel  cases;  however,  so  inspiring  was  Hamilton’s  argument  that  the  jury  returned  a  verdict  of  “not  guilty.”  

The  Zenger  case  helped  widen  the  growing  gap  between  England  and  the  American  colonies  by  setting  a  precedent  that  allowed  criticism  of  colonial  governors  and  other  authorities.  As  Vincent  Buranelli  points  out  in  his  book,  The  Trial  of  Peter  Zenger,  no  longer  could  one  say  that  resistance  to  crown  officials  was  always  wrong.7  America  had  begun  to  clear  a  path  leading  toward  her  own  legal  system.  In  reality,  the  impact  of  Zenger  had  a  more  immediate  effect  on  Britain.  By  1738,  accounts  of  Andrew  Hamilton’s  address  to  the  jury  were  apparently  gaining  much  attention  in  the  legal  community.  The  major  principles  of  the  case—truth  as  a  defense  in  libel  actions  and  the  jury  has  the  right  to  decide  both  “fact”  and  “law”—became  law  in  Britain  in  1792  with  the  Fox  Libel  Act.  America  responded  with  a  federal  statute  in  1798.  Another  major  influence  on  the  development  of  American  legal  philosophy  was  the  English  legal  authority  William  Blackstone.  Blackstone’s  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  England  was  widely  read  by  students  and  barristers  alike  in  England  and  in  the  colonies.  Although  dismissed  by  some  as  elementary,  Blackstone’s  view  of  liberty  of  the  press  served  as  a  benchmark  for  courts  in  Britain  and  America.  Blackstone  wrote,    The  liberty  of  the  press  is  indeed  essential  to  the  nature  of  a  free  State,  but  this  consists  in  laying  no  previous  restraints  upon  publications,  and  not  in  freedom  from  censure  for  criminal  matter  when  published.  Every  free  man  has  an  undoubted  right  to  lay  what  sentiments  he  pleases  before  the  public:  to  forbid  this,  is  to  destroy  the  freedom  of  the  press:  but  if  he  publishes  what  is  improper,  mischievous,  or  illegal,  he  must  take  the  consequence  of  his  own  temerity.  To  subject  the  press  to  the  restrictive  power  of  a  licenser,  as  was  formerly  done  .  .  .  is  to  subject  all  freedom  of  sentiment  to  the  prejudices  of  one  man,  and  make  him  the  arbitrary  and  infallible  judge  of  all  controverted  points  in  learning,  religion,  and  government.  But  to  punish  .  .  .  any  dangerous  or  offensive  writings,  which,  when  published,  shall  on  a  fair  and  impartial  trial  be  adjudged  of  a  pernicious  tendency,  is  necessary  for  the  preservation  of  peace  and  good  order,  of  government  and  religion,  the  only  solid  foundations  of  civil  liberty.  Thus  the  will  of  individuals  is  still  left  free;  the  abuse  only  of  that  free  will  is  the  object  of  legal  punishment.8    Blackstone  wrote  these  words  in  1769,  but  they  are  actually  a  fairly  accurate  reflection  of  twentieth-­‐century  American  interpretations  of  the  First  Amendment.  In  fact,  the  Supreme  Court  relied  on  Blackstone’s  concept  of  no  “previous  restraint”  in  the  1931  landmark  case  Near  v.  Minnesota.  In  Near,  the  Court  ruled  that  prior  or  previous  restraints  on  the  press  violate  the  First  Amendment  in  most  cases.  Blackstone  also  espoused  what  would  later  evolve  into  the  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Doctrine,  when  he  noted  that  free  speech  is  not  protected  when  the  “peace  and  good  order”  are  threatened.  In  1791,  the  states  ratified  the  first  ten  amendments  to  the  new  U.S.  Constitution.  The  First  Amendment  forbade  Congress  from  making  laws  that  would  abridge  freedom  of  religion,  speech,  and  the  press.  Although  written  in  absolute  terms,  the  First  Amendment  has  never  been  interpreted  by  the  Supreme  Court  to  mean  that  individuals  have  the  right  to  say  anything  they  please,  any  way  they  please,  

anywhere  or  under  any  circumstances.  In  fact,  Congress  was  quick  to  limit  freedom  of  speech  and  freedom  of  the  press  in  the  new  nation  when  it  passed  the  Sedition  Act  of  1798.  The  Sedition  Act  provided  punishment  for  the  publication  of  false,  scandalous,  and  malicious  writings  against  the  government,  either  house  of  Congress,  or  the  president,  if  the  writings  were  published  with  the  intent  to  defame  any  of  these  groups  or  incite  the  people  to  rebellion.  A  companion  law,  the  Alien  Act,  allowed  the  president  to  deport  any  alien  judged  dangerous  to  the  security  of  the  United  States.  The  impact  of  Ζenger  and  England’s  Fox  Libel  Act  were  felt,  however,  because  there  was  precedent  for  using  truth  as  a  defense  and  the  jury  was  empowered  to  determine  criminality.  This  defense  was  strengthened  after  the  expiration  of  the  Alien  and  Sedition  Acts  during  the  presidency  of  Thomas  Jefferson.  Ironically,  the  defense  of  truth  was  used  by  the  editor  of  a  newspaper  charged  with  libeling  Jefferson.  In  another  unusual  twist,  Alexander  Hamilton,  who  generally  opposed  the  First  Amendment,  argued  brilliantly  in  favor  of  press  freedoms  in  the  case  against  his  adversary,  Thomas  Jefferson.  The  Sedition  Act  expired  in  March  1801  and  was  not  renewed.  Except  for  Lincoln’s  unofficial  suppression  of  critics  of  his  policies  during  the  Civil  War,  there  was  no  major  government  action  raising  free  speech  issues  until  the  First  World  War.    The  First  Amendment  in  the  Twentieth  Century    When  America  entered  World  War  I,  Congress  passed  the  Espionage  Act  of  1917.  The  Espionage  Act  was  designed  to  protect  against  spying  by  foreign  countries  and  to  protect  military  secrets.  The  act  was  amended  in  1918  to  include  what  is  commonly  called  the  Sedition  Act  (not  to  be  confused  with  the  Sedition  Act  of  1798).  This  amendment  dealt  more  with  advocacy,  speaking,  teaching,  printing,  and  inciting  than  did  the  original  act.  Although  the  Sedition  Act  was  repealed  in  1921,  the  Espionage  Act  remained  in  force  into  the  1940s.  These  especially  harsh  restraints  on  press  and  speech  freedoms  were  the  result  of  internal  suspicions  during  the  war  with  Germany  (the  number  of  Americans  with  a  German  heritage  led  some  to  question  loyalty),  the  controversy  generated  over  conscription  of  troops,  and  the  growing  threat  of  Bolshevism.  During  this  time,  more  than  1,900  people  were  prosecuted  for  alleged  subversion  and  criticism  of  the  national  government.  Why  was  the  suppression  of  First  Amendment  freedoms  tolerated  during  this  time?  Legal  scholar  Zechariah  Chafee  writes  that  it  may  have  been  because  many  Americans  viewed  the  freedoms  guaranteed  by  the  Founding  Fathers  as  no  more  than  abstract  doctrine.    The  First  Amendment  had  no  hold  on  people’s  minds  because  no  live  facts  or  concrete  images  were  then  attached  to  it.  Like  an  empty  box  with  beautiful  words  on  it,  the  Amendment  collapsed  under  the  impact  of  terror  of  Prussian  battalions  and  terror  of  Bolshevik  mobs.  So  the  emotions  generated  by  the  two  simultaneous  cataclysms  of  war  and  revolution  swept  unchecked  through  American  prosecutors,  judges,  jurymen,  and  legislators.9    

It  was  during  this  tumultuous  time  that  the  initial  First  Amendment  cases  reached  the  Supreme  Court.  It  was  also  during  this  time  that  the  first  serious  interpretations  of  the  meaning  of  the  First  Amendment  were  attempted.  With  the  development  of  case  law,  the  First  Amendment  took  on  a  new  character—that  of  living  law.  No  longer  was  the  First  Amendment  an  ethereal  concept  untouched  by  the  courts  of  the  land.  In  Schenck  v.  United  States,  the  Court  began  the  arduous  task  of  shaping  concrete  images  from  abstract  doctrine.    The  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Test    Schenck  was  the  first  and  most  influential  case  dealing  with  significant  First  Amendment  issues  to  come  before  the  Supreme  Court.  In  this  case,  Justice  Holmes  formulated  the  “clear  and  present  danger”  test  for  determining  when  an  individual’s  First  Amendment  rights  may  be  abridged.  Schenck  had  been  charged  with  violating  the  Espionage  Act  of  1917,  because  he  distributed  leaflets  that  urged  men  not  to  register  for  the  draft  during  World  War  I.  Justice  Holmes  delivered  the  following  opinion  of  the  Court:    Schenck  v.  United  States,  249  U.S.  47  (1919)    ☐   This  is  an  indictment  in  three  counts.  The  first  charges  a  conspiracy  to  violate  the  Espionage  Act  of  June  15,  1917  .  .  .  by  causing  and  attempting  to  cause  insubordination  &c,  in  the  military  and  naval  forces  of  the  United  States,  and  to  obstruct  the  recruiting  and  enlistment  service  of  the  United  States,  when  the  United  States  was  at  war  with  the  German  Empire,  to  wit,  that  the  defendants  willfully  conspired  to  have  printed  and  circulated  to  men  who  had  been  called  and  accepted  for  military  service  .  .  .  a  document  set  forth  and  alleged  to  be  calculated  to  cause  such  insubordination  and  obstruction.  The  count  alleges  overt  acts  in  pursuance  of  the  conspiracy,  ending  in  the  distribution  of  the  document  set  forth.  The  second  count  alleges  a  conspiracy  to  commit  an  offence  against  the  United  States,  to  wit,  to  use  the  malls  for  the  transmission  of  matter  declared  to  be  non-­‐mailable  by  title  12,  section  2,  of  the  Act  of  June  15,  1917.  .  .  .  The  document  in  question  upon  its  first  printed  side  recited  the  first  section  of  the  Thirteenth  Amendment  said  that  the  idea  embodied  in  it  was  violated  by  the  Conscription  Act  and  that  a  conscript  is  little  better  than  a  convict.  In  impassioned  language  it  intimated  that  conscription  was  despotism  in  its  worst  form  and  a  monstrous  wrong  against  humanity  in  the  interest  of  Wall  Street’s  chosen  few.  It  said  “Do  not  submit  to  intimidation,”  but  in  form  at  least  confined  itself  to  peaceful  measures  such  as  a  petition  for  repeal  of  the  act.  The  other  and  later  printed  side  of  the  sheet  was  headed  “Assert  Your  Rights.”  It  stated  reasons  for  alleging  that  any  one  violated  the  Constitution  when  he  refused  to  recognize  “your  right  to  assert  your  opposition  to  the  draft,”  and  went  on  “If  you  do  not  assert  and  support  your  rights,  you  are  helping  to  deny  or  disparage  rights  which  it  is  the  solemn  duty  of  all  citizens  and  residents  of  the  United  States  to  retain.”  It  described  the  arguments  on  the  other  side  as  coming  from  cunning  politicians  and  a  mercenary  capitalist  press,  and  even  silent  consent  to  the  conscription  law  as  helping  to  support  an  infamous  conspiracy.  It  denied  the  power  to  send  our  citizens  away  to  foreign  shores  to  shoot  up  people  of  other  lands,  and  added  that  words  could  not  express  the  condemnation  such  cold  

blooded  ruthlessness  deserves  .  .  .  winding  up  “You  must  do  your  share  to  maintain,  support  and  uphold  the  rights  of  the  people  of  this  country.”  Of  course  the  document  would  not  have  been  sent  unless  it  had  been  intended  to  have  some  effect,  and  we  do  not  see  what  effect  it  could  be  expected  to  have  upon  persons  subject  to  the  draft  except  to  influence  them  to  obstruct  the  carrying  of  it  out.  The  defendants  do  not  deny  that  the  jury  might  find  against  them  on  this  point.  But  it  is  said,  suppose  that  was  the  tendency  of  this  circular,  it  is  protected  by  the  First  Amendment  to  the  Constitution.  Two  of  the  strongest  expressions  are  said  to  be  quoted  respectively  from  well-­‐known  public  men.  .  .  .  We  admit  that  in  many  places  and  in  ordinary  times  the  defendants  in  saying  all  that  was  said  in  the  circular  would  have  been  within  their  constitutional  rights.  But  the  character  of  every  act  depends  on  the  circumstances  in  which  it  is  done.  .  .  .  The  most  stringent  protection  of  free  speech  would  not  protect  a  man  in  falsely  shouting  fire  in  a  theatre  and  causing  a  panic.  It  does  not  even  protect  a  man  from  an  injunction  against  uttering  words  that  may  have  all  the  effect  of  force.  .  .  .  The  question  in  every  case  is  whether  the  words  used  are  used  in  such  circumstances  and  are  of  such  a  nature  as  to  create  a  clear  and  present  danger  that  they  will  bring  about  the  substantive  evils  that  Congress  has  a  right  to  prevent.  [Emphasis  added  by  the  author.]  .  .  .  When  a  nation  is  at  war  many  things  that  might  be  said  in  time  of  peace  are  such  a  hindrance  to  its  effort  that  their  utterance  will  not  be  endured  so  long  as  men  fight  and  that  no  Court  could  regard  them  as  protected  by  any  constitutional  right.  It  seems  to  be  admitted  that  if  an  actual  obstruction  of  the  recruiting  service  were  proved,  liability  for  words  that  produced  that  effect  might  be  enforced.10    Schenk  was  found  guilty  of  violating  the  Espionage  Act.  Justice  Holmes  articulated  the  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Doctrine  as  a  means  of  setting  the  limits  of  First  Amendment  rights.  In  essence,  speech  could  be  punished  if  the  utterance  of  words  might  bring  about  “evils  that  Congress  has  a  right  to  prevent.”  Interpretation  of  clear  and  present  danger  was  still  not  absolutely  clear.  In  fact,  Justice  Holmes  found  himself  on  the  dissenting  side  of  a  similar  case  shortly  after  Schenck.  Holmes  disagreed  with  the  majority  of  the  Court’s  application  of  the  doctrine  in  Abrams  v.  United  States.  Holmes  did  not  agree  that  the  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Test  had  been  met.  In  Abrams,  four  Russian-­‐born  aliens  living  in  the  United  States  were  convicted  of  violating  the  Espionage  Act.  These  self-­‐admitted  revolutionists  were  critical  of  President  Wilson’s  policies  and  called  for  the  “workers  of  the  world”  to  rise  and  put  down  capitalism.  The  Supreme  Court  saw  this  call  as  a  clear  and  present  danger  intended  to  incite  an  uprising  against  the  government  of  the  United  States.  Justice  Holmes  disagreed.    Abrams  v.  United  States,  250  U.S.  616  (1919)  Mr.  Justice  Holmes  dissenting:    ☐   This  indictment  is  founded  wholly  on  the  publication  of  two  leaflets.  .  .  .  The  first  of  these  leaflets  says  that  the  President’s  cowardly  silence  about  the  intervention  in  Russia  reveals  the  hypocrisy  of  the  plutocratic  gang  in  Washington.  .  .  .  The  other  leaflet,  headed  “Workers—Wake  Up,”  with  abusive  language  says  that  America  together  

with  the  Allies  will  march  for  Russia  to  help  the  Czecko-­‐Slovaks  [sic]  in  their  struggle  against  the  Bolsheviki,  and  that  this  time  the  hypocrites  shall  not  tool  the  Russian  emigrants  and  friends  of  Russia  in  America.  It  tells  the  Russian  emigrants  that  they  must  now  spit  in  the  face  of  the  false  military  propaganda  .  .  .  and  further,  “Workers  in  the  ammunition  factories,  you  are  producing  bullets,  bayonets,  cannon  to  murder  not  only  Germans,  but  also  your  dearest,  best,  who  are  in  Russia  fighting  for  freedom.”  It  then  appeals  to  the  same  Russian  emigrants  at  some  length  not  to  consent  to  the  “inquisitionary  expedition  in  Russia.”  The  leaflet  winds  up  by  saying  “Workers,  our  reply  to  this  barbaric  intervention  has  to  be  a  general  strike!  .  .  .  Woe  unto  those  who  will  be  in  the  way  of  progress.  Let  solidarity  live!  [signed]  The  Rebels.”  No  argument  seems  to  be  necessary  to  show  that  these  pronounciamentos  in  no  way  attack  the  form  of  government  of  the  United  States.  .  .  .  I  do  not  doubt  for  a  moment  .  .  .  the  United  States  constitutionally  may  punish  speech  that  produces  or  is  intended  to  produce  a  clear  and  imminent  danger.  .  .  .  The  power  undoubtedly  is  greater  in  time  of  war  than  in  time  of  peace  because  war  opens  dangers  that  do  not  exist  at  other  times.  But  as  against  dangers  peculiar  to  war,  as  against  others,  the  principle  of  the  right  of  free  speech  is  always  the  same.  It  is  only  the  present  danger  of  immediate  evil  or  an  intent  to  bring  it  about  that  warrants  Congress  in  setting  a  limit  to  the  expression  of  opinion  where  private  rights  are  concerned.  Congress  certainly  cannot  forbid  all  effort  to  change  the  mind  of  the  country.11    Holmes  applied  the  marketplace  of  ideas  concept  in  Abrams.  Borrowing  from  Milton’s  Areopagitica  and  nineteenth-­‐century  philosopher  John  Stuart  Mill’s  essay  On  Liberty,  Holmes  wrote,    ☐   the  best  test  of  truth  is  the  power  of  the  thought  to  get  itself  accepted  in  the  competition  of  the  market,  and  that  truth  is  the  only  ground  upon  which  their  wishes  can  be  safely  carried  out.12    The  marketplace-­‐of-­‐ideas  theory  assumes  that  all  ideas,  regardless  of  how  loathsome  they  may  be,  should  be  heard.  While  Milton  might  assume  that  truth  will  triumph  over  falsity  and  that  “good”  will  prevail  over  “evil,”  neither  Mill  nor  Holmes  is  so  naive.  Both  accept  the  fact  that  truth  may  not  triumph,  but  in  the  words  of  Mill,    .  .  .  [T]he  peculiar  evil  of  silencing  the  expression  of  an  opinion  is,  that  it  is  robbing  the  human  race  posterity  as  well  as  the  existing  generation  those  who  dissent  from  the  opinion,  still  more  than  those  who  hold  it.13    In  Holmes’s  view,  the  only  time  government  should  intervene  in  the  process  is  when  these  opinions    ☐   imminently  threaten  immediate  interference  with  the  lawful  and  pressing  purposes  of  the  law  that  an  immediate  check  is  required  to  save  the  country.14  As  we  shall  see,  this  is  the  view  of  Clear  and  Present  Danger  that  will  prevail  in  later  decisions  of  the  

Supreme  Court.  Certainly,  since  2001,  Americans  have  had  to  grapple,  once  again,  with  the  issue  of  freedom  of  speech  during  a  time  of  war.    Applying  the  First  Amendment  to  the  States    Six  years  after  Abrams,  the  Supreme  Court  decided  Gitlow  v.  People  of  State  of  New  York.  In  Gitlow,  the  Court  upheld  the  conviction  of  Benjamin  Gitlow  for  violating  the  New  York  Criminal  Anarchy  Statute.  Although  a  majority  of  the  Court  found  New  York’s  law  to  be  reasonable,  even  the  dissenters,  Holmes  and  Brandeis,  agreed  on  the  principle  that  the  First  Amendment  was  binding  on  the  states  through  the  Fourteenth  Amendment.  They  disagreed  as  to  how  it  should  be  applied.    Gitlow  v.  People  of  State  of  New  York,  268  U.S.  652  (1925)    Justice  Sanford  delivered  the  opinion  of  the  Court:    ☐   .  .  .  For  present  purposes  we  may  and  do  assume  that  freedom  of  speech  and  of  the  press—which  are  protected  by  the  First  Amendment  from  abridgement  by  Congress—are  among  the  fundamental  personal  rights  and  “liberties”  protected  by  the  due  process  clause  of  the  Fourteenth  Amendment  from  impairment  by  the  States.14    Justice  Holmes,  dissenting,  wrote,    ☐   Justice  Brandeis  and  I  are  of  the  opinion  that  this  judgement  should  be  reversed.  The  general  principle  of  free  speech,  it  seems  to  me,  must  be  taken  to  be  included  in  the  Fourteenth  Amendment,  in  view  of  the  scope  that  has  been  given  to  the  word  “liberty”  as  there  used.15    The  Balancing  Test    Sometimes  the  courts  must  balance  First  Amendment  interests  against  conflicting  social  and  personal  interests.  In  these  situations,  the  court  must  determine  which  interest  should  receive  the  greater  protection.  The  balancing  test  was  articulated  by  the  Supreme  Court  in  American  Communications  Association  v.  Douds.  In  Douds,  the  Supreme  Court  “balanced”  First  Amendment  rights  against  the  right  of  the  government  to  protect  itself  from  overthrow.  The  court  noted:    

Freedom  of  speech,  press,  and  assembly  are  dependent  upon  the  power  of  constitutional  government  to  survive.  If  it  is  to  survive  it  must  have  power  to  protect  itself  against  unlawful  conduct  and,  under  some  circumstances,  against  incitements  to  commit  unlawful  acts.  Freedom  of  speech  does  not  comprehend  the  right  to  speak  on  any  subject  at  any  time.  .  .  .  The  “clear  and  present  danger”  rule  is  not  a  mechanical  test  applicable  in  every  case  touching  First  Amendment  freedoms,  without  regard  to  the  context  of  its  application,·  it  is  the  considerations  that  gave  birth  to  the  rule,  not  the  phrase  itself,  that  are  vital.17    The  Fighting  Words  Doctrine    Although  the  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Doctrine  and  the  balancing  test  offer  methods  of  adjudicating  First  Amendment  disputes,  they  are  by  no  means  the  only  methods  employed  by  the  courts.  Different  First  Amendment  conflicts  require  different  solutions.  Therefore,  the  common  sense  approach  of  what  was  to  become  the  Fighting  Words  Doctrine  evolved  in  the  1940s.  The  Fighting  Words  Doctrine  says  that  words  directed  at  an  average  person  that  may  provoke  a  fight  are  not  protected  by  the  First  Amendment.  The  rationale  is  that  a  breach  of  the  peace  should  be  avoided  over  the  protection  of  an  individual’s  right  to  utter  hostile  words.  The  Fighting  Words  Doctrine  stems  from  Chaplinsky  v.  New  Hampshire,  a  case  that  involved  a  Jehovah’s  Witness  and  his  activities  on  a  street  corner  in  Rochester,  New  Hampshire.    Chaplinsky  v.  New  Hampshire,  315  U.S.  568  (1942)    ☐   .  .  .  Chaplinsky  was  distributing  the  literature  of  his  sect  on  the  streets  of  Rochester  on  a  busy  afternoon.  Members  of  the  local  citizenry  complained  to  the  City  Marshal  .  .  .  that  Chaplinsky  was  denouncing  all  religion  as  a  “racket.”  The  Marshal  told  them  that  Chaplinsky  was  lawfully  engaged  and  warned  Chaplinsky  that  the  crowd  was  getting  restless.  .  .  .  Chaplinsky  made  the  following  remarks  to  the  Marshal  outside  City  Hall:  “You  are  a  God-­‐damned  racketeer  and  a  damned  Fascist  and  the  whole  government  of  Rochester  are  Fascists  or  agents  of  Fascists.”  Chaplinsky  .  .  .  asked  the  Marshal  to  arrest  those  responsible  for  the  disturbance.  But  the  Marshal,  according  to  Chaplinsky,  instead  cursed  him  and  told  Chaplinsky  to  come  along  with  him.  Chaplinsky  was  prosecuted  under  a  New  Hampshire  statute,  part  of  which  forbade  “addressing  any  offensive,  derisive  or  annoying  word  to  any  other  person  who  is  lawfully  in  any  street  or  other  public  place.”  .  .  .  The  statute,  as  construed,  does  no  more  than  prohibit  the  face-­‐to-­‐face  words  plainly  likely  to  cause  a  breach  of  the  peace  by  the  speaker—including  “classical  fighting  words,”  words  in  current  use  less  “classical”  but  equally  likely  to  cause  violence,  and  other  disorderly  words,  including  profanity,  obscenity  and.  .  .  .  Argument  is  unnecessary  to  demonstrate  that  the  appellations  “damned  racketeer”  and  “damned  Fascist”  are  epithets  likely  to  provoke  the  average  person  to  retaliation  and  thereby  cause  a  breach  of  the  peace.18    

In  the  years  following  Chaplinsky,  the  Fighting  Words  Doctrine  was  seriously  weakened.  Many  state  laws  were  struck  down  on  the  grounds  that  they  were  overbroad—and  that,  as  constructed,  they  not  only  prohibited  fighting  words,  but  other  expression  as  well.  In  Gooding  v.  Wilson,  a  Georgia  statute  prohibiting  the  use  of  “opprobrious  words  or  abusive  language  tending  to  breach  the  peace”  was  struck  down  as  unconstitutionally  vague  and  overbroad  under  the  First  and  Fourteenth  Amendments.19  Citing  Chaplinsky,  the  Supreme  Court  defined  “fighting  words”  as  those  having  a  “direct  tendency  to  cause  acts  of  violence  by  the  person  to  whom,  individually,  the  remark  is  addressed.”20  This  means  that  the  doctrine  is  not  applied  when  groups  of  people  are  provoked.  In  Lewis  v.  City  of  New  Orleans,  the  Court  also  struck  down  a  New  Orleans  ordinance  making  it  unlawful  to  “curse  or  revile  or  to  use  obscene  or  opprobrious  language  toward  or  with  reference  to”  a  police  officer  on  duty.21  The  New  Orleans  ordinance  was  found  to  have  a  “broader  sweep”  than  the  constitutional  definition  of  fighting  words.  Offensive  or  indecent  words,  in  and  of  themselves,  are  not  necessarily  fighting  words.  When  Paul  Robert  Cohen  walked  into  the  Los  Angeles  County  Courthouse  in  April  of  1968  wearing  a  jacket  with  “Fuck  the  Draft”  printed  on  it,  he  was  arrested  for  disturbing  the  peace.  Even  though  he  made  no  physical  disturbance,  he  was  convicted  on  grounds  that  the  writing  on  his  jacket  might  provoke  others  to  acts  of  violence.  In  Cohen  v.  California,  the  Supreme  Court  overturned  his  conviction  and  stated  that  the  four-­‐letter  word  displayed  by  Cohen  in  relation  to  the  draft  was  not  directed  to  any  one  person.    ☐   .  .  .  No  individual  actually  or  likely  to  be  present  could  reasonably  have  regarded  the  words  on  the  appellant’s  jacket  as  a  direct  personal  insult.  .  .  .  There  is  .  .  .  no  showing  that  anyone  who  saw  Cohen  was  in  fact  violently  aroused  or  that  the  appellant  intended  such  a  result.22    The  display  was  protected  by  the  First  Amendment,  as  it  was  Cohen’s  opinion  of  the  Vietnam  War  and  the  draft.  In  1977,  the  American  Nazi  Party  was  denied  a  parade  permit  by  village  officials  in  Skokie,  Illinois,  because  they  feared  that  the  sight  of  such  Nazi  symbols  as  the  swastika  might  trigger  violence  and  trauma  based  on  the  vulnerability  of  Holocaust  survivors  to  symbolic  reminders  of  past  persecution.  In  April  1977,  an  injunction  prohibiting  the  Nazi  demonstration  was  obtained  and  in  the  following  weeks  three  ordinances  were  passed  that  required  permits  for  which  the  American  Nazis  could  not  qualify.  The  Nazis  obtained  the  assistance  of  the  American  Civil  Liberties  Union  and  filed  suit  against  the  town  on  grounds  that  the  ordinances  violated  the  First  Amendment.  After  a  lengthy  struggle  in  the  courts  in  Village  of  Skokie  v.  National  Socialist  Party,  the  Nazis  finally  won  the  right  to  demonstrate.    Village  of  Skokie  v.  National  Socialist  Party,  373  N.E.  2d  21  (Ill.,  1978)    ☐   Plaintiff  urges  and  the  appellate  court  has  held,  that  the  exhibition  of  the  Nazi  symbol,  the  swastika,  addresses  to  ordinary  citizens  a  message  which  is  tantamount  to  fighting  words.  Plaintiff  further  asks  this  court  to  extend  Chaplinsky,  which  upheld  a  statute  

punishing  the  use  of  such  words,  and  hold  that  the  fighting-­‐words  doctrine  permits  a  prior  restraint  on  defendant’s  symbolic  speech.  In  our  judgment  we  are  precluded  from  doing  so.  .  .  .  .  .  .  The  display  of  the  swastika,  as  offensive  to  the  principles  of  a  free  nation  as  the  memories  it  recalls  may  be,  is  symbolic  political  speech  intended  to  convey  to  the  public  the  beliefs  of  those  who  display  it.  It  does  not,  in  our  opinion,  fall  within  the  definition  of  “fighting  words”  and  that  doctrine  cannot  be  used  here  to  overcome  the  heavy  presumption  against  the  constitutional  validity  of  a  prior  restraint.  .  .  .  We  do  not  doubt  that  the  sight  of  this  symbol  is  abhorrent  to  the  Jewish  citizens  of  Skokie,  and  that  the  survivors  of  the  Nazi  persecutions,  tormented  by  their  recollections,  may  have  strong  feelings  regarding  their  display.  .  .  .  In  summary,  as  we  read  the  controlling  Supreme  Court  opinions,  use  of  the  swastika  is  a  symbolic  form  of  free  speech  entitled  to  First  Amendment  protections.  Its  display  on  uniforms  or  banners  by  those  engaged  in  peaceful  demonstrations  cannot  be  totally  precluded  because  that  display  may  provoke  a  violent  reaction  by  those  who  view  it.  Particularly  .  .  .  where  .  .  .  there  has  been  advance  notice  by  the  demonstrators  of  their  plans  so  that  they  have  become  “common  knowledge”  and  those  to  whom  sight  of  the  swastika  banner  or  uniforms  would  be  offensive  are  forewarned  and  need  not  view  them.  A  speaker  who  gives  prior  notice  of  is  message  has  not  compelled  a  confrontation  with  those  who  voluntarily  listen.23    Although  they  won  a  legal  victory,  the  Nazis  eventually  canceled  their  plan  to  march  in  Skokie.  According  to  Professor  Donald  Downs,  the  leader  of  the  National  Socialist  Party,  Frank  Collin,  decided  against  the  march  because  he  knew  his  group  would  make  easy  targets  for  counter  demonstrators.  Probably  no  case  involving  the  First  Amendment  so  tests  the  fabric  of  the  marketplace-­‐of-­‐ideas  theory  as  does  the  Skokie  case.  The  parameters  of  the  conflict  give  new  life  to  Justice  Douglas’  resurrection  of  the  concept  in  his  dissent  in  Dennis  v.  United  States:    ☐   Full  and  free  discussion  even  of  ideas  we  hate  encourages  the  testing  of  our  own  prejudices  and  preconceptions.  Full  and  free  discussion  keeps  a  society  from  becoming  stagnant  and  unprepared  for  the  stresses  and  strains  that  work  to  tear  all  civilizations  apart.24    Hate  Speech    In  a  further  refinement  of  the  Fighting  Words  Doctrine,  in  1992  the  U.S.  Supreme  Court  struck  down  a  Minnesota  law  prohibiting  “hate  speech.”  Essentially,  the  ruling  prohibits  government  from  silencing  speech  on  the  basis  of  its  content  alone.  In  R.A.  V  v.  City  of  St.  Paul  Minn.,  112  S.Ct  2538  (1992)  the  court  struck  down  a  Minnesota  law  that  prohibited  the  display  of  a  symbol  that  one  knows  or  has  reason  to  know  “arouses  anger,  alarm  or  resentment  in  others  on  the  basis  of  race,  color,  creed,  religion  or  gender.”  The  court  found  the  law  unconstitutional  because  it  imposed  special  prohibitions  on  the  speaker.  In  other  words,  the  law  held  that  one  could  argue  in  favor  of  

racial  tolerance,  but  not  against  it.  Minnesota’s  “hate  speech”  law  had  the  effect  of  favoring  “politically  correct”  fighting  words  over  all  others,  and  therefore  violated  the  First  Amendment.    R.  A.  V.  v.  City  of  St.  Paul,  Minnesota,  112  S.Ct.  2538  (1992)    Justice  Scalia  delivered  the  opinion  of  the  Court.    ☐   In  the  predawn  hours  of  June  21,  1990,  petitioner  and  several  other  teenagers  allegedly  assembled  a  crudely  made  cross  by  taping  together  broken  chair  legs.  They  then  allegedly  burned  the  cross  inside  the  fenced  yard  of  a  black  family  that  lived  across  the  street  from  the  house  where  petitioner  was  staying.  Although  this  conduct  could  have  been  punished  under  any  of  a  number  of  laws,  one  of  the  two  provisions  under  which  respondent  city  of  St.  Paul  chose  to  charge  petitioner  (then  a  juvenile)  was  the  St.  Paul  Bias  Motivated  Crime  Ordinance,  St.  Paul,  Minn.  Legis.  Code  §292.02  (1990),  which  provides:  “Whoever  places  on  public  or  private  property  a  symbol,  object,  appellation,  characterization  or  graffiti,  including,  but  not  limited  to,  a  burning  cross  or  Nazi  swastika,  which  one  knows  or  has  reasonable  grounds  to  know  arouses  anger,  alarm  or  resentment  in  others  on  the  basis  of  race,  color,  creed,  religion  or  gender  commits  disorderly  conduct  and  shall  be  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor.”  Petitioner  moved  to  dismiss  this  count  on  the  ground  that  the  St.  Paul  ordinance  was  substantially  overbroad  and  impermissibly  content  based  and  therefore  facially  invalid  under  the  First  Amendment.  The  trial  court  granted  this  motion,  but  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court  reversed.  That  court  rejected  petitioner’s  overbreadth  claim  because,  as  construed  in  prior  Minnesota  cases,  see,  e.g.,  In  re  Welfare  of  S.  L.  J.,  263  N.W.2d  412  (Minn.  1978),  the  modifying  phrase  “arouses  anger,  alarm  or  resentment  in  others”  limited  the  reach  of  the  ordinance  to  conduct  that  amounts  to  “fighting  words,”  i.e.,  “conduct  that  itself  inflicts  injury  or  tends  to  incite  immediate  violence  .  .  .  and  therefore  the  ordinance  reached  only  expression  “that  the  first  amendment  does  not  protect,”  464  N.W.2d,  at  511.  The  court  also  concluded  that  the  ordinance  was  not  impermissibly  content  based  because,  in  its  view,  “the  ordinance  is  a  narrowly  tailored  means  toward  accomplishing  the  compelling  governmental  interest  in  protecting  the  community  against  bias  motivated  threats  to  public  safety  and  order.”  Ibid.  We  granted  certiorari  .  .  .    .  .  .  Accordingly,  we  accept  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court’s  authoritative  statement  that  the  ordinance  reaches  only  those  expressions  that  constitute  “fighting  words”  within  the  meaning  of  Chaplinsky.  .  .  .  Petitioner  and  his  amici  urge  us  to  modify  the  scope  of  the  Chaplinsky  formulation,  thereby  invalidating  the  ordinance  as  “substantially  overbroad  .  .  .  We  find  it  unnecessary  to  consider  this  issue.  Assuming,  arguendo,  that  all  of  the  expression  reached  by  the  ordinance  is  proscribable  under  the  “fighting  words”  doctrine,  we  nonetheless  conclude  that  the  ordinance  is  facially  unconstitutional  in  that  it  prohibits  otherwise  permitted  speech  solely  on  the  basis  of  the  subjects  the  speech  addresses.  

The  First  Amendment  generally  prevents  government  from  proscribing  speech,  .  .  .  or  even  expressive  conduct  .  .  .  because  of  disapproval  of  the  ideas  expressed.  Content  based  regulations  are  presumptively  invalid  .  .  .  From  1791  to  the  present,  however,  our  society,  like  other  free  but  civilized  societies,  has  permitted  restrictions  upon  the  content  of  speech  in  a  few  limited  areas,  which  are  “of  such  slight  social  value  as  a  step  to  truth  that  any  benefit  that  may  be  derived  from  them  is  clearly  outweighed  by  the  social  interest  in  order  and  morality.”  We  have  recognized  that  “the  freedom  of  speech”  referred  to  by  the  First  Amendment  does  not  include  a  freedom  to  disregard  these  traditional  limitations  .  .  .  Our  decisions  since  the  1960’s  have  narrowed  the  scope  of  the  traditional  categorical  exceptions  for  defamation,  .  .  .  but  a  limited  categorical  approach  has  remained  an  important  part  of  our  First  Amendment  jurisprudence.  We  have  sometimes  said  that  these  categories  of  expression  are  “not  within  the  area  of  constitutionally  protected  speech”  .  .  .  or  that  the  “protection  of  the  First  Amendment  does  not  extend”  to  them.  .  .  .  Such  statements  must  be  taken  in  context,  however,  and  are  no  more  literally  true  than  is  the  occasionally  repeated  shorthand  characterizing  obscenity  “as  not  being  speech  at  all,”  .  .  .  What  they  mean  is  that  these  areas  of  speech  can,  consistently  with  the  First  Amendment,  be  regulated  because  of  their  constitutionally  proscribable  content  (obscenity,  defamation,  etc.)—not  that  they  are  categories  of  speech  entirely  invisible  to  the  Constitution,  so  that  they  may  be  made  the  vehicles  for  content  discrimination  unrelated  to  their  distinctively  proscribable  content.  Thus,  the  government  may  proscribe  libel;  but  it  may  not  make  the  further  content  discrimination  of  proscribing  only  libel  critical  of  the  government.  We  recently  acknowledged  this  distinction  .  .  .  in  upholding  New  York’s  child  pornography  law,  we  expressly  recognized  that  there  was  no  “question  here  of  censoring  a  particular  literary  theme.  .  .  .”  (“As  drafted,  New  York’s  statute  does  not  attempt  to  suppress  the  communication  of  particular  ideas.”)  Our  cases  surely  do  not  establish  the  proposition  that  the  First  Amendment  imposes  no  obstacle  whatsoever  to  regulation  of  particular  instances  of  such  proscribable  expression,  so  that  the  government  “may  regulate  [them]  freely,”  That  would  mean  that  a  city  council  could  enact  an  ordinance  prohibiting  only  those  legally  obscene  works  that  contain  criticism  of  the  city  government  or,  indeed,  that  do  not  include  endorsement  of  the  city  government.  Such  a  simplistic,  all  or  nothing  at  all  approach  to  First  Amendment  protection  is  at  odds  with  common  sense  and  with  our  jurisprudence  as  well.  It  is  not  true  that  “fighting  words”  have  at  most  a  “de  minimis”  expressive  content,  ibid.,  or  that  their  content  is  in  all  respects  “worthless  and  undeserving  of  constitutional  protection,”  .  .  .  sometimes  they  are  quite  expressive  indeed.  We  have  not  said  that  they  constitute  “no  part  of  the  expression  of  ideas,”  but  only  that  they  constitute  “no  essential  part  of  any  exposition  of  ideas:”  (Emphasis  added.)  The  proposition  that  a  particular  instance  of  speech  can  be  proscribable  on  the  basis  of  one  feature  (e.g.,  obscenity)  but  not  on  the  basis  of  another  (e.g.,  opposition  to  the  city  government)  is  commonplace,  and  has  found  application  in  many  contexts.  We  have  long  held,  for  example,  that  nonverbal  expressive  activity  can  be  banned  because  of  the  action  it  entails,  but  not  because  of  the  ideas  it  expresses—so  that  burning  a  flag  in  violation  of  an  ordinance  against  outdoor  fires  could  be  punishable,  whereas  burning  a  flag  in  violation  of  an  ordinance  against  dishonoring  the  flag  is  not.  .  .  .  Similarly,  we  have  upheld  reasonable  “time,  place,  or  manner”  restrictions,  but  only  if  they  are  “justified  without  reference  to  the  content  of  the  regulated  speech”  .  .  .    

And  just  as  the  power  to  proscribe  particular  speech  on  the  basis  of  a  noncontent  element  (e.g.,  noise)  does  not  entail  the  power  to  proscribe  the  same  speech  on  the  basis  of  a  content  element;  so  also,  the  power  to  proscribe  it  on  the  basis  of  one  content  element  (e.g.,  obscenity)  does  not  entail  the  power  to  proscribe  it  on  the  basis  of  other  content  elements.  In  other  words,  the  exclusion  of  “fighting  words”  from  the  scope  of  the  First  Amendment  simply  means  that,  for  purposes  of  that  Amendment,  the  unprotected  features  of  the  words  are,  despite  their  verbal  character,  essentially  a  “nonspeech”  element  of  communication.  Fighting  words  are  thus  analogous  to  a  noisy  sound  truck:  Each  is,  as  Justice  Frankfurter  recognized,  a  “mode  of  speech,”  .  .  .  both  can  be  used  to  convey  an  idea;  but  neither  has,  in  and  of  itself,  a  claim  upon  the  First  Amendment.  As  with  the  sound  truck,  however,  so  also  with  fighting  words:  The  government  may  not  regulate  use  based  on  hostility—or  favoritism—towards  the  underlying  message  expressed.  .  .  .  .  .  .  a  government  must  either  proscribe  all  speech  or  no  speech  at  all,  .  .  .  Even  the  prohibition  against  content  discrimination  that  we  assert  the  First  Amendment  requires  is  not  absolute.  It  applies  differently  in  the  context  of  proscribable  speech  than  in  the  area  of  fully  protected  speech.  The  rationale  of  the  general  prohibition,  after  all,  is  that  content  discrimination  “rais[es]  the  specter  that  the  Government  may  effectively  drive  certain  ideas  or  viewpoints  from  the  marketplace.  .  .  .  But  content  discrimination  among  various  instances  of  a  class  of  proscribable  speech  often  does  not  pose  this  threat.  When  the  basis  for  the  content  discrimination  consists  entirely  of  the  very  reason  the  entire  class  of  speech  at  issue  is  proscribable,  no  significant  danger  of  idea  or  viewpoint  discrimination  exists.  Such  a  reason,  having  been  adjudged  neutral  enough  to  support  exclusion  of  the  entire  class  of  speech  from  First  Amendment  protection,  is  also  neutral  enough  to  form  the  basis  of  distinction  within  the  class.  To  illustrate:  A  State  might  choose  to  prohibit  only  that  obscenity  which  is  the  most  patently  offensive  in  its  prurience—i.e.,  that  which  involves  the  most  lascivious  displays  of  sexual  activity.  But  it  may  not  prohibit,  for  example,  only  that  obscenity  which  includes  offensive  political  messages.  .  .  .  And  the  Federal  Government  can  criminalize  only  those  threats  of  violence  that  are  directed  against  the  President,  .  .  .  since  the  reasons  why  threats  of  violence  are  outside  the  First  Amendment  (protecting  individuals  from  the  fear  of  violence,  from  the  disruption  that  fear  engenders,  and  from  the  possibility  that  the  threatened  violence  will  occur)  have  special  force  when  applied  to  the  person  of  the  President.  .  .  .  But  the  Federal  Government  may  not  criminalize  only  those  threats  against  the  President  that  mention  his  policy  on  aid  to  inner  cities.  And  to  take  a  final  example,  .  .  .  a  State  may  choose  to  regulate  price  advertising  in  one  industry  but  not  in  others,  because  the  risk  of  fraud  (one  of  the  characteristics  of  commercial  speech  that  justifies  depriving  it  of  full  First  Amendment  protection  .  .  .  But  a  State  may  not  prohibit  only  that  commercial  advertising  that  depicts  men  in  a  demeaning  fashion,  .  .  .  .  .  .  A  State  could,  for  example,  permit  all  obscene  live  performances  except  those  involving  minors.  Moreover,  since  words  can  in  some  circumstances  violate  laws  directed  not  against  speech  but  against  conduct  (a  law  against  treason,  for  example,  is  violated  by  telling  the  enemy  the  nation’s  defense  secrets),  a  particular  content  based  subcategory  of  a  proscribable  class  of  speech  can  be  swept  up  incidentally  within  the  reach  of  a  statute  directed  at  conduct  rather  than  speech.  Thus,  for  example,  sexually  derogatory  “fighting  words,”  among  other  words,  may  produce  a  violation  of  Title  VII’s  general  prohibition  against  sexual  discrimination  in  employment  

practices,  .  .  .  Where  the  government  does  not  target  conduct  on  the  basis  of  its  expressive  content,  acts  are  not  shielded  from  regulation  merely  because  they  express  a  discriminatory  idea  or  philosophy.  These  bases  for  distinction  refute  the  proposition  that  the  selectivity  of  the  restriction  is  even  arguably  ‘conditioned  upon  the  sovereign’s  agreement  with  what  a  speaker  may  intend  to  say.’  .  .  .  There  may  be  other  such  bases  as  well.  Indeed,  to  validate  such  selectivity  (where  totally  proscribable  speech  is  at  issue)  it  may  not  even  be  necessary  to  identify  any  particular  “neutral”  basis,  so  long  as  the  nature  of  the  content  discrimination  is  such  that  there  is  no  realistic  possibility  that  official  suppression  of  ideas  is  afoot.  (We  cannot  think  of  any  First  Amendment  interest  that  would  stand  in  the  way  of  a  State’s  prohibiting  only  those  obscene  motion  pictures  with  blue-­‐eyed  actresses.)  Save  for  that  limitation,  the  regulation  of  “fighting  words,”  like  the  regulation  of  noisy  speech,  may  address  some  offensive  instances  and  leave  other,  equally  offensive,  instances  alone  .  .  .  Applying  these  principles  to  the  St.  Paul  ordinance,  we  conclude  that,  even  as  narrowly  construed  by  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court,  the  ordinance  is  facially  unconstitutional.  Although  the  phrase  in  the  ordinance,  “arouses  anger,  alarm  or  resentment  in  others,”  has  been  limited  by  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court’s  construction  to  reach  only  those  symbols  or  displays  that  amount  to  “fighting  words,”  the  remaining,  unmodified  terms  make  clear  that  the  ordinance  applies  only  to  “fighting  words”  that  insult,  or  provoke  violence,  “on  the  basis  of  race,  color,  creed,  religion  or  gender.”  Displays  containing  abusive  invective,  no  matter  how  vicious  or  severe,  are  permissible  unless  they  are  addressed  to  one  of  the  specified  disfavored  topics.  Those  who  wish  to  use  “fighting  words”  in  connection  with  other  ideas—to  express  hostility,  for  example,  on  the  basis  of  political  affiliation,  union  membership,  or  homosexuality—are  not  covered.  The  First  Amendment  does  not  permit  St.  Paul  to  impose  special  prohibitions  on  those  speakers  who  express  views  on  disfavored  subjects  .  .  .  In  its  practical  operation,  moreover,  the  ordinance  goes  even  beyond  mere  content  discrimination,  to  actual  viewpoint  discrimination.  Displays  containing  some  words—odious  racial  epithets,  for  example—would  be  prohibited  to  proponents  of  all  views.  But  “fighting  words”  that  do  not  themselves  invoke  race,  color,  creed,  religion,  or  gender—aspersions  upon  a  person’s  mother,  for  example—would  seemingly  be  usable  ad  libitum  in  the  placards  of  those  arguing  in  favor  of  racial,  color,  etc.  tolerance  and  equality,  but  could  not  be  used  by  that  speaker’s  opponents.  One  could  hold  up  a  sign  saying,  for  example,  that  all  “anti  Catholic  bigots”  are  misbegotten;  but  not  that  all  “papists”  are,  for  that  would  insult  and  provoke  violence  “on  the  basis  of  religion.”  St.  Paul  has  no  such  authority  to  license  one  side  of  a  debate  to  fight  freestyle,  while  requiring  the  other  to  follow  Marquis  of  Queensbury  Rules.  What  we  have  here,  it  must  be  emphasized,  is  not  a  prohibition  of  fighting  words  that  are  directed  at  certain  persons  or  groups  (which  would  be  facially  valid  if  it  met  the  requirements  of  the  Equal  Protection  Clause);  but  rather,  a  prohibition  of  fighting  words  that  contain  (as  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court  repeatedly  emphasized)  messages  of  “bias  motivated”  hatred  and  in  particular,  as  applied  to  this  case,  messages  “based  on  virulent  notions  of  racial  supremacy.”  .  .  .  One  must  wholeheartedly  agree  with  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court  that”  [i]t  is  the  responsibility,  even  the  obligation,  of  diverse  communities  to  confront  such  notions  in  whatever  form  they  appear,”  .  .  .  but  the  manner  of  that  confrontation  cannot  consist  of  selective  limitations  upon  speech.  St.  Paul’s  brief  asserts  that  a  general  “fighting  words”  law  would  not  meet  the  city’s  needs  because  only  a  content  specific  measure  can  communicate  to  

minority  groups  that  the  “group  hatred”  aspect  of  such  speech  “is  not  condoned  by  the  majority.  .  .  .  The  point  of  the  First  Amendment  is  that  majority  preferences  must  be  expressed  in  some  fashion  other  than  silencing  speech  on  the  basis  of  its  content.  Despite  the  fact  that  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court  and  St.  Paul  acknowledge  that  the  ordinance  is  directed  at  expression  of  group  hatred,  Justice  Stevens  suggests  that  this  “fundamentally  misreads”  the  ordinance.  .  .  .  It  is  directed,  he  claims,  not  to  speech  of  a  particular  content,  but  to  particular  “injur[ies]”  that  are  “qualitatively  different”  from  other  injuries.  .  .  .  This  is  word  play.  What  makes  the  anger,  fear,  sense  of  dishonor,  etc.  produced  by  violation  of  this  ordinance  distinct  from  the  anger,  fear,  sense  of  dishonor,  etc.  produced  by  other  fighting  words  is  nothing  other  than  the  fact  that  it  is  caused  by  a  distinctive  idea,  conveyed  by  a  distinctive  message.  The  First  Amendment  cannot  be  evaded  that  easily.  It  is  obvious  that  the  symbols  which  will  arouse  “anger,  alarm  or  resentment  in  others  on  the  basis  of  race,  color,  creed,  religion  or  gender”  are  those  symbols  that  communicate  a  message  of  hostility  based  on  one  of  these  characteristics.  St.  Paul  concedes  in  its  brief  that  the  ordinance  applies  only  to  “racial,  religious,  or  gender  specific  symbols”  such  as  “a  burning  cross,  Nazi  swastika  or  other  instrumentality  of  like  import.”  .  .  .  Indeed,  St.  Paul  argued  in  the  Juvenile  Court  that  “[t]he  burning  of  a  cross  does  express  a  message  and  it  is,  in  fact,  the  content  of  that  message  which  the  St.  Paul  Ordinance  attempts  to  legislate.”  .  .  .  The  content-­‐based  discrimination  reflected  in  the  St.  Paul  ordinance  comes  within  neither  any  of  the  specific  exceptions  to  the  First  Amendment  prohibition  we  discussed  earlier,  nor  within  a  more  general  exception  for  content  discrimination  that  does  not  threaten  censorship  of  ideas.  It  assuredly  does  not  fall  within  the  exception  for  content  discrimination  based  on  the  very  reasons  why  the  particular  class  of  speech  at  issue  (here,  fighting  words)  is  proscribable.  As  explained  earlier  .  .  .  the  reason  why  fighting  words  are  categorically  excluded  from  the  protection  of  the  First  Amendment  is  not  that  their  content  communicates  any  particular  idea,  but  that  their  content  embodies  a  particularly  intolerable  (and  socially  unnecessary)  mode  of  expressing  whatever  idea  the  speaker  wishes  to  convey.  St.  Paul  has  not  singled  out  an  especially  offensive  mode  of  expression—it  has  not,  for  example,  selected  for  prohibition  only  those  fighting  words  that  communicate  ideas  in  a  threatening  (as  opposed  to  a  merely  obnoxious)  manner.  Rather,  it  has  proscribed  fighting  words  of  whatever  manner  that  communicate  messages  of  racial,  gender,  or  religious  intolerance.  Selectivity  of  this  sort  creates  the  possibility  that  the  city  is  seeking  to  handicap  the  expression  of  particular  ideas.  That  possibility  would  alone  be  enough  to  render  the  ordinance  presumptively  invalid,  but  St.  Paul’s  comments  and  concessions  in  this  case  elevate  the  possibility  to  a  certainty.  St.  Paul  argues  that  the  ordinance  comes  within  another  of  the  specific  exceptions  we  mentioned,  the  one  that  allows  content  discrimination  aimed  only  at  the  “secondary  effects”  of  the  speech  .  .  .  According  to  St.  Paul,  the  ordinance  is  intended,  “not  to  impact  on  [sic]  the  right  of  free  expression  of  the  accused,”  but  rather  to  “protect  against  the  victimization  of  a  person  or  persons  who  are  particularly  vulnerable  because  of  their  membership  in  a  group  that  historically  has  been  discriminated  against”  .  .  .  Even  assuming  that  an  ordinance  that  completely  proscribes,  rather  than  merely  regulates,  a  specified  category  of  speech  can  ever  be  considered  to  be  directed  only  to  the  secondary  effects  of  such  speech,  it  is  clear  that  the  St.  Paul  ordinance  is  not  directed  to  secondary  effects  within  the  meaning  of  Renton.  .  .  .  “The  emotive  impact  of  speech  on  its  audience  is  not  a  ‘secondary  effect.’  ”  .  .  .  

It  hardly  needs  discussion  that  the  ordinance  does  not  fall  within  some  more  general  exception  permitting  all  selectivity  that  for  any  reason  is  beyond  the  suspicion  of  official  suppression  of  ideas.  The  statements  of  St.  Paul  in  this  very  case  afford  ample  basis  for,  if  not  full  confirmation  of,  that  suspicion.  Finally,  St.  Paul  and  its  amici  defend  the  conclusion  of  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court  that,  even  if  the  ordinance  regulates  expression  based  on  hostility  towards  its  protected  ideological  content,  this  discrimination  is  nonetheless  justified  because  it  is  narrowly  tailored  to  serve  compelling  state  interests.  Specifically,  they  assert  that  the  ordinance  helps  to  ensure  the  basic  human  rights  of  members  of  groups  that  have  historically  been  subjected  to  discrimination,  including  the  right  of  such  group  members  to  live  in  peace  where  they  wish.  We  do  not  doubt  that  these  interests  are  compelling,  and  that  the  ordinance  can  be  said  to  promote  them.  But  the  “danger  of  censorship”  presented  by  a  facially  content  based  statute  .  .  .  requires  that  that  weapon  be  employed  only  where  it  is  “necessary  to  serve  the  asserted  [compelling]  interest,”  .  .  .  The  existence  of  adequate  content  neutral  alternatives  thus  “undercut[s]  significantly”  any  defense  of  such  a  statute  .  .  .  casting  considerable  doubt  on  the  government’s  protestations  that  “the  asserted  justification  is  in  fact  an  accurate  description  of  the  purpose  and  effect  of  the  law”  .  .  .  The  dispositive  question  in  this  case,  therefore,  is  whether  content  discrimination  is  reasonably  necessary  to  achieve  St.  Paul’s  compelling  interests;  it  plainly  is  not.  An  ordinance  not  limited  to  the  favored  topics,  for  example,  would  have  precisely  the  same  beneficial  effect.  In  fact  the  only  interest  distinctively  served  by  the  content  limitation  is  that  of  displaying  the  city  council’s  special  hostility  towards  the  particular  biases  thus  singled  out.  That  is  precisely  what  the  First  Amendment  forbids.  The  politicians  of  St.  Paul  are  entitled  to  express  that  hostility—but  not  through  the  means  of  imposing  unique  limitations  upon  speakers  who  (however  benightedly)  disagree.  Let  there  be  no  mistake  about  our  belief  that  burning  a  cross  in  someone’s  front  yard  is  reprehensible.  But  St.  Paul  has  sufficient  means  at  its  disposal  to  prevent  such  behavior  without  adding  the  First  Amendment  to  the  fire.  The  judgment  of  the  Minnesota  Supreme  Court  is  reversed,  and  the  case  is  remanded  for  proceedings  not  inconsistent  with  this  opinion.  It  is  so  ordered.    Speech  and  Action    Burning  a  cross,  a  flag,  or  a  draft  card  in  protest  of  social  policy  are  examples  of  “speech,”  carried  out  in  a  form  of  “action.”  The  courts  have  experienced  difficulty  in  cases  involving  both  verbal  and  nonverbal  elements.  When  David  Paul  O’Brien  burned  his  draft  card  on  the  steps  of  the  South  Boston  Courthouse,  he  said  he  did  so  in  protest  of  the  war  in  Vietnam.  Although  draft  card  mutilation  was  a  violation  of  the  Military  Training  and  Service  Act  of  1948,  O’Brien  maintained  that  the  draft  card  burning  was  “symbolic  speech”  and  was  therefore  protected  by  the  First  Amendment.  In  United  States  v.  O’Brien  (1968),  the  Supreme  Court  disagreed.  Justice  Warren  wrote,    

☐   This  Court  has  held  that  when  “speech”  and  “nonspeech”  elements  are  combined  in  the  same  course  of  conduct,  a  sufficiently  important  governmental  interest  in  regulating  the  nonspeech  element  can  justify  incidental  limitations  on  First  Amendment  freedoms.  .  .  .  The  many  functions  performed  by  Selective  Service  certificates  establish  beyond  doubt  that  Congress  has  a  legitimate  interest  in  preventing  their  wanton  and  unrestrained  destruction  and  continuing  their  availability  by  punishing  people  who  knowingly  and  willfully  destroy  or  mutilate  them.25    O’Brien  could  have  burned  “symbolic”  draft  cards,  but  not  the  real  item.  The  Supreme  Court  reached  a  different  decision  one  year  later.  Students  in  Des  Moines  wore  black  arm  bands  to  school  to  protest  the  Vietnam  War.  The  Des  Moines  school  system  had  specifically  prohibited  the  wearing  of  arm  bands.  Seven  of  the  18,000  students  enrolled  in  the  system  wore  arm  bands  and  no  disruption  of  school  operations  occurred.  In  Tinker  v.  Des  Moines  Independent  School  District,  the  Court  held  that  the  wearing  of  arm  bands  was  a  “symbolic  act”  protected  by  the  First  Amendment.  Twenty  years  later,  a  badly  divided  Supreme  Court  (5  to  4)  ruled  that  burning  the  American  flag  may  be  symbolic  speech.  In  Texas  v.  Johnson,  Justice  Brennan  delivered  the  opinion  of  the  Court:    Texas  v.  Johnson  (1989)    ☐   .  .  .  While  the  Republican  National  Convention  was  taking  place  in  Dallas  in  1984,  respondent  Johnson  participated  in  a  political  demonstration  .  .  .  the  purpose  of  this  event  was  to  protest  the  policies  of  the  Reagan  administration  and  of  certain  Dallas-­‐based  corporations.  The  demonstrators  marched  through  the  Dallas  streets,  chanting  political  slogans  and  stopping  at  several  corporate  locations  to  stage  “die-­‐ins”  intended  to  dramatize  the  consequences  of  nuclear  war.  .  .  .  [Johnson]  .  .  .  did  .  .  .  accept  an  American  flag  handed  him  by  a  fellow  protestor  who  had  taken  it  from  a  flag  pole  outside  one  of  the  targeted  buildings.  The  demonstration  ended  in  front  of  Dallas  City  Hall,  where  Johnson  unfurled  the  American  flag,  doused  it  with  kerosene,  and  set  it  on  fire.  While  the  flag  burned,  the  protestors  chanted,  “America  the  red,  white  and  blue,  we  spit  on  you.”  After  the  demonstrators  dispersed,  a  witness  to  the  flag  burning  collected  the  flag’s  remains  and  buried  them  in  his  backyard.  Of  the  approximately  100  demonstrators,  Johnson  alone  was  charged  with  a  crime.  The  only  criminal  offense  with  which  he  was  charged  was  the  desecration  of  a  venerated  object  in  violation  of  Tex.  Penal  Code.  .  .  .  After  a  trial,  he  was  convicted,  sentenced  to  one  year  in  prison,  and  fined  $2000.  The  Court  of  Appeals  for  the  Fifth  District  of  Texas  at  Dallas  affirmed  Johnson’s  conviction,  but  the  Texas  Court  of  Criminal  Appeals  reversed.  .  .  .  Johnson  was  convicted  of  flag  desecration  for  burning  the  flag  rather  than  for  uttering  insulting  words.  This  fact  somewhat  complicates  our  consideration  of  his  conviction  under  the  First  Amendment.  .  .  .  

Texas  conceded  that  Johnson’s  conduct  was  expressive  conduct.  Johnson  burned  an  American  flag  as  part—indeed,  as  the  culmination—of  a  political  demonstration  that  coincided  with  the  convening  of  the  Republican  Party  and  its  re-­‐nomination  of  Ronald  Reagan  for  President.  The  expressive,  overtly  political  nature  of  this  conduct  was  both  intentional  and  overwhelmingly  apparent.  .  .  .  Texas  claims  that  its  interest  in  preventing  breaches  of  the  peace  justifies  Johnson’s  conviction  for  flag  desecration.  However,  no  disturbance  of  the  peace  actually  occurred  or  threatened  to  occur  because  of  Johnson’s  burning  of  the  flag.  .  .  .  The  State’s  position,  therefore,  amounts  to  a  claim  that  an  audience  that  takes  serious  offense  at  particular  expression  is  necessarily  likely  to  disturb  the  peace  and  that  the  expression  may  be  prohibited  on  this  basis.  Our  precedents  do  not  countenance  such  a  presumption.  On  the  contrary,  they  recognize  that  a  principal  “function  of  free  speech  under  our  system  of  government  is  to  invite  dispute.”  .  .  .  Nor  does  Johnson’s  expressive  conduct  fall  within  that  small  class  of  “fighting  words”  that  are  “likely  to  provoke  the  average  person  to  retaliation,  and  thereby  cause  a  breach  of  the  peace.”  Chaplinsky  v.  New  Hampshire,  315  U.S.  568  (1942)  The  State  also  asserts  an  interest  in  preserving  the  flag  as  a  symbol  of  nationhood  and  national  unity.  .  .  .  If  there  is  a  bedrock  principle  underlying  the  First  Amendment,  it  is  that  the  Government  may  not  prohibit  the  expression  of  an  idea  simply  because  society  finds  the  idea  itself  offensive  or  disagreeable.  We  have  not  recognized  an  exception  to  this  principle  even  where  our  flag  has  been  involved.  .  .  .  In  short,  nothing  in  our  precedents  suggests  that  a  State  may  foster  its  own  view  of  the  flag  by  prohibiting  expressive  conduct  relating  to  it.  .  .  .  To  conclude  that  the  Government  may  permit  designated  symbols  to  be  used  to  communicate  only  a  limited  set  of  messages  would  be  to  enter  territory  having  no  discernible  or  defensible  boundaries.  Could  the  Government,  on  this  theory,  prohibit  the  burning  of  state  flags?  Of  copies  of  the  Presidential  seal?  Of  the  Constitution?  In  evaluating  these  choices  under  the  First  Amendment,  how  could  we  decide  which  symbols  were  sufficiently  special  to  warrant  this  unique  status?  To  do  so,  we  would  be  forced  to  consult  our  own  political  preferences,  and  impose  them  on  the  citizenry,  in  the  very  way  that  the  First  Amendment  forbids  us  to  do  so.  There  is,  moreover,  no  indication—either  in  the  text  of  the  Constitution  or  in  our  cases  interpreting  it—that  a  separate  judicial  category  exists  for  the  American  flag  alone.  .  .  .  We  are  fortified  in  today’s  conclusion  by  our  conviction  that  forbidding  criminal  punishment  for  conduct  such  as  Johnson’s  will  not  endanger  the  special  role  played  by  our  flag  or  the  feelings  it  inspires.  .  .  .  The  way  to  preserve  the  flag’s  special  role  is  not  to  punish  those  who  feel  differently  about  these  matters.  It  is  to  persuade  them  that  they  are  wrong.26    In  October  1989,  President  Bush  signed  into  law  the  Flag  Protection  Act.  This  law  provided  for  penalties  of  up  to  one  year  in  jail  and  a  $1000  fine  for  those  who  desecrate  the  American  flag.  In  June  1990,  the  Supreme  Court  overturned  the  law  as  violative  of  the  First  Amendment.  However,  the  issue  of  a  constitutional  amendment  to  outlaw  flag  burning  periodically  resurfaces.    Prior  Restraint  

 Prior  restraint  means  censoring  or  preventing  material  from  being  broadcast  or  published.  Although  the  presumption  against  prior  restraint  in  Anglo-­‐American  law  may  be  traced  back  to  Blackstone’s  Commentaries,  the  first  major  American  case  did  not  reach  the  Supreme  Court  until  1931.  Near  v.  Minnesota  involved  a  Minnesota  newspaper  called  The  Saturday  Press.  A  Minnesota  statute  allowed  local  prosecutors  to  enjoin  publications  judged  “malicious,  scandalous  and  defamatory.”  The  county  attorney  of  Hennepin  County  brought  such  an  action  against  The  Saturday  Press.  It  seems  that  the  paper  had  accused  the  law  enforcement  officials  in  Minneapolis  of  failing  to  punish  gambling,  bootlegging,  and  racketeering  activities.  The  paper  also  charged  that  law  enforcement  was  controlled  by  a  “Jewish  gangster.”  The  state  trial  court  found  that  the  Press  had  violated  the  Minnesota  public  nuisance  statute  and  “perpetually  enjoined”  publication  of  the  paper.  The  Supreme  Court  reversed  the  ruling,  finding  the  Minnesota  statute  unconstitutional.  States  are  free  to  provide  for  punishment  after  publication,  but  the  Court  stressed  that  freedom  to  publish  must  be  guarded.  In  Near,  the  Supreme  Court  noted  that  although  there  was  a  heavy  presumption  against  prior  restraints,  there  may  be  times  when  such  action  is  justified.  No  one  would  question  but  that  a  government  might  prevent  actual  obstruction  to  its  recruiting  service  or  the  publication  of  sailing  dates  of  transports  or  the  number  and  location  of  troops.  On  similar  grounds,  the  primary  requirements  of  decency  may  be  enforced  against  obscene  publications.  The  security  of  community  life  may  be  protected  against  incitements  to  acts  of  violence  and  the  overthrow  by  force  of  orderly  government.27  The  Doctrine  of  Prior  Restraint  was  tested  again  in  1971  in  what  has  become  known  as  the  Pentagon  Papers  Case.  The  New  York  Times  was  restrained  from  publishing  36  classified  papers  outlining  how  America  became  involved  in  the  Vietnam  War.  The  papers  had  been  obtained  from  Dr.  Daniel  Ellsberg,  a  former  Pentagon  employee  who  had  become  disenchanted  with  the  war.  A  temporary  restraining  order  was  issued  against  the  Times,  but  when  the  U.S.  government  requested  a  permanent  injunction,  Judge  Gurfein  of  the  Federal  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York  refused  to  grant  one.  The  U.S.  Court  of  Appeals  for  the  Second  Circuit  reversed,  calling  for  further  hearings  on  the  matter.  In  the  meantime,  the  temporary  injunction  remained  in  effect.  Next,  the  Washington  Post  obtained  the  papers  and  planned  to  publish  them.  Once  again,  the  government  requested  a  restraining  order.  Judge  Gerhard  Gesell  of  the  U.S.  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Columbia  refused  to  issue  the  order  and  the  Post  was  free  to  publish,  while  the  Times  could  not.  The  Supreme  Court  eventually  ruled  in  favor  of  the  Times,  noting  that,    ☐   Any  system  of  prior  restraints  of  expression  come  to  this  Court  bearing  a  heavy  presumption  against  its  constitutional  validity.  .  .  .  The  government  “thus  carries  a  heavy  burden  of  showing  justification  for  the  enforcement  of  such  a  restraint.”  The  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York  in  the  New  York  Times  case  and  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Columbia  and  the  Court  of  Appeals  for  the  District  of  Columbia  Circuit  in  the  Washington  Post  case  held  that  the  government  had  not  met  that  burden.  We  agree.28    

In  the  fall  of  1990,  the  Cable  News  Network  (CNN)  planned  to  cablecast  tapes  of  jail  telephone  call  conversations  between  deposed  Panamanian  dictator  Manuel  Noriega  and  his  attorneys.  Miami,  Florida,  District  Court  Judge  William  Hoeveler  issued  a  temporary  injunction  against  CNN  on  the  grounds  that  Noriega’s  Sixth  Amendment  right  to  a  fair  trial  might  be  jeopardized.  In  spite  of  the  injunction,  CNN  did  cablecast  one  of  the  conversations,  but  eventually  turned  the  tapes  over  to  the  court  for  fair  trial  consideration.  CNN  was  threatened  with  contempt  charges  for  the  cablecast.  On  November  18,  1990,  the  Supreme  Court  refused  to  schedule  arguments  on  the  merits  of  the  injunction  and  also  refused  to  give  CNN  permission  to  air  the  taped  conversations.  On  November  28,  1990,  Judge  Hoeveler  lifted  the  restraining  order,  saying  that  after  viewing  the  tapes,  he  had  concluded  that  Noriega’s  right  to  a  fair  trial  would  not  be  impaired.  In  1994,  CNN  was  found  guilty  in  U.S.  District  Court  of  criminal  contempt  of  court  for  the  airing  of  the  conversations  between  Noriega  and  his  attorney.    The  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Doctrine  Revisited    After  Scbenck  and  Abrams,  the  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Doctrine  fell  into  disuse.  It  did  not  reappear  until  1951  and  then  in  a  somewhat  altered  form.  In  Dennis  v.  United  States,  the  Supreme  Court  upheld  the  conviction  of  Eugene  Dennis  and  ten  other  persons  for  violating  the  Smith  Act.  The  Smith  Act  made  it  a  crime  to  conspire  to  teach  and  advocate  the  overthrow  of  the  United  States  government  by  force.  In  a  6-­‐2  decision,  the  Court  convicted  the  petitioners  for  conspiracy  and  advocacy—not  for  actual  violence.  A  majority  of  the  Court  held  that  the  state  cannot  be  expected  to  wait  until  violence  is  imminent  before  acting.  The  justices  noted  that  obstructions  to  free  speech  and  press  might  be  necessary  in  order  to  prevent  an  even  greater  evil  to  society.  Hence,  Dennis  presented  a  clear  and  present  danger.  The  doctrine  reached  its  apex  with  Dennis.  An  individual’s  First  Amendment  rights  could  be  abridged  for  merely  teaching  the  necessity  of  overthrowing  the  government.  However,  the  pendulum  quickly  began  to  swing  the  other  way.  In  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  government  brought  many  prosecutions  under  the  Smith  Act  after  Dennis,  by  1957  the  act  had  been  overruled.  With  McCarthyism  on  the  wane,  the  Supreme  Court,  in  Yates  v.  United  States,  made  a  distinction  between  advocacy  of  direct  action  and  advocacy  of  abstract  doctrine.  The  latter,  said  the  Court,  was  protected  by  the  First  Amendment.  The  Clear  and  Present  Danger  Doctrine  was  finalized  in  Brandenburg  v.  Ohio  (1969),  in  which  the  Supreme  Court  held  that  advocacy  may  not  be  banned  unless  it  is  directed  to  inciting  or  producing  imminent  lawless  action  and  is  likely  to  incite  or  produce  such  action.    Compelled  Speech    Up  to  this  point  we  have  examined  ways  in  which  speech  may  be  legally  restricted  by  government.  It  is  also  important  to  note  that  case  law  also  protects  individuals  from  being  forced  to  speak  against  their  will.  For  example,  in  Wooley  v.  Maynard,  430  U.S.  705,  97  S.Ct.  1428,  51  L.Ed.2d  (1977)  the  Supreme  Court  held  that  the  state  of  New  Hampshire  could  not  require  an  individual  to  display  a  license  plate  with  the  ideological  message  “Live  Free  or  Die”  on  their  private  automobile.  Similarly,  in  Hurley  v.  Irish-­‐American  Gay  Lesbian  and  

Bisexual  Group  of  Boston,  115  S.Ct.  2338  (1995),  a  group  representing  several  gay  organizations  sought  permission  from  the  City  of  Boston  to  participate  in  a  parade  organized  by  a  private  veterans  organization.  The  Supreme  Court  ruled  that  the  gay  groups  could  be  excluded  from  the  public  parade  because  their  presence  would  compel  the  private  organizers  to  convey  a  message  that  they  did  not  wish  convey;  thereby  violating  the  veterans’  First  Amendment  rights.    The  First  Amendment  and  Traditional  Broadcasting    As  we  shall  study  in  later  chapters,  material  broadcast  over  the  air  is  not  afforded  the  same  First  Amendment  protection  as  printed  matter.  The  underlying  assumption  of  broadcast  regulation  originally  rested  on  the  premise  that  broadcasters  used  a  scarce  public  resource—the  electromagnetic  spectrum.  In  theory/because  there  are  a  limited  number  of  broadcast  frequencies  available,  the  FCC  was  charged  with  choosing  the  best  applicant  from  those  who  applied  for  a  broadcast  license.  The  FCC  developed  criteria  for  making  that  choice,  all  of  which  are  under  the  umbrella  of  the  “public  interest  standard.”  Unlike  newspapers,  broadcasters  were  “public  trustees.”  Although  the  First  Amendment  protected  publishers,  the  Supreme  Court  ruled  in  Red  Lion  v.  FCC,  that    ☐   .  .  .  Because  of  the  scarcity  of  radio  frequencies,  the  Government  is  permitted  to  put  restraints  on  licenses  in  favor  of  others  whose  views  should  be  expressed  on  this  unique  medium.  But  the  people  as  a  whole  retain  their  interest  in  free  speech  by  radio  and  their  collective  right  to  have  the  medium  function  consistently  with  the  ends  and  purposes  of  the  First  Amendment.  It  is  the  right  of  the  viewers  and  listeners,  not  the  right  of  the  broadcasters  which  is  paramount.  It  is  the  purpose  of  the  First  Amendment  to  preserve  an  uninhibited  marketplace  of  ideas  in  which  truth  will  ultimately  prevail,  rather  than  to  countenance  monopolization  of  that  market,  whether  it  be  by  the  Government  itself  or  by  private  licensee.  .  .  .  It  is  the  right  of  the  public  to  receive  suitable  access  to  social,  political,  esthetic,  moral  and  other  ideas  and  experiences  which  is  crucial  here.29    In  spite  of  the  fact  that  “scarcity”  is  a  creation  of  the  frequency  allocation  process  and  that  even  the  FCC  has  questioned  its  validity,  concern  over  fairness  remains.  The  FCC  is  prohibited  from  censoring  program  content.  Newspapers  and  magazines  are  legally  free  to  publish  almost  any  material  that  has  not  been  judged  by  a  court  to  be  obscene.  Broadcasters  do  not  have  that  freedom.  Because  of  the  pervasive  nature  of  the  broadcast  media,  certain  material  may  not  be  broadcast  over  the  air,  as  ruled  in  FCC  v.  Pacifica  Foundation  (1976).  The  courts  and  the  FCC  have  ruled  that  because  broadcasting  comes  into  the  home,  sometimes  “uninvited,”  consideration  for  the  makeup  of  the  audience  is  in  order.  Cable  operators  are  not  subjected  to  these  restrictions  on  content.  

Unlike  newspapers,  broadcasters  must  provide  equal  time  to  political  candidates  and  the  rates  at  which  this  time  can  be  sold  are  governed  by  the  Communications  Act.  Any  legislation  suggesting  that  newspapers  or  magazines  be  subjected  to  the  same  standards  would  surely  violate  the  First  Amendment,  which  was  the  case  in  Miami  Herald  Publishing  Co.  v.  Tornillo  (1974).  Many  in  the  industry  see  these  regulations  as  unfair  burdens  that  hinder  the  ability  to  compete  in  the  marketplace.  Others  in  society  believe  that  regulation  enhances  the  number  of  voices  given  access  to  the  marketplace  of  ideas.  In  Turner  Broadcasting  System,  Inc.  v.  FCC  (1994),  the  Supreme  Court  reaffirmed  Red  Lion’s  importance  in  assessing  broadcasters  First  Amendment  rights  but  refused  to  apply  Red  Lion  to  cable  television.30    The  First  Amendment  and  Cable/Satellite  Television    Because  cable,  and  by  extension  satellite  television,  is  not  subjected  to  the  “limited  spectrum”  as  are  broadcasters,  the  Courts  have  generally  held  that  cable  television  is  deserving  of  greater  First  Amendment  protection  than  over-­‐the-­‐air  broadcasters.31    The  First  Amendment  and  the  Internet    The  courts  have  applied  the  First  Amendment  to  the  Internet  in  a  similar  manner  to  that  of  the  print  media.  Efforts  to  hold  the  Internet  to  broadcast-­‐like  indecency  standards  have  been  repeatedly  struck  down  by  the  Supreme  Court.  (See  Reno  v.  American  Civil  Liberties  Union,  521  U.S.  844  (1997).)  Similarly,  the  High  Court  struck  down  the  Child  Pornography  Prevention  Act  of  1996  which  would  have  made  “virtual  images”  of  certain  sexually  oriented  material  illegal.  The  Act  would  have  banned  a  range  of  sexually  explicit  images,  sometimes  called  “virtual  child  pornography,”  that  appear  to  depict  minors  but  were  produced  by  means  other  than  using  real  children,  such  as  through  the  use  of  youthful-­‐looking  adults  or  computer-­‐imaging  technology.  (See  Ashcroft  v.  Free  Speech  Coaltion  122  S.  Ct.  1389;  152  L.  Ed.  2d  403;  2002  U.S.  LEXIS  2789  (2002).)  In  Reno  (1997),  the  Supreme  Court  held  that  the  Communications  Decency  Act  violated  the  First  Amendment  because  it  was  “overbroad”—that  is,  it  was  not  narrowly  tailored  to  address  only  the  harms  it  was  designed  to  prevent.  Congress  tried  to  address  the  Court’s  concern  with  passage  of  the  Child  Online  Protection  Act  (COPA).  The  COPA  addressed  only  commercial  material  on  the  World  Wide  Web  (not  the  entire  Internet)  found  “harmful  to  minors”  (see  47  U.S.C.  231  (a)(1)).  A  Federal  District  Court  issued  a  preliminary  injunction  against  enforcement  of  COPA  on  grounds  that  the  Act  was  unlikely  to  survive  “strict  scrutiny.”  The  Court  of  Appeals  for  the  Third  Circuit  affirmed,  but  based  its  decision  on  the  use  of  the  “contemporary  community  standards”  doctrine,  borrowed  from  current  obscenity  law,  to  identify  material  as  “harmful  to  minors.”  The  Supreme  Court  heard  the  case  in  October  of  2001  and  held  that  the  COPA’s  reliance  on  the  “community  standards”  doctrine  did  not,  by  itself,  render  the  COPA  “overbroad.”  The  Supreme  Court  offered  no  opinion  on  the  constitutionality  of  COPA  as  a  whole,  and  sent  the  

case  back  to  the  Third  Circuit  for  review.  The  preliminary  injunction  preventing  enforcement  of  COPA  remained  in  effect  pending  action  by  the  lower  courts.  (See  Ashcroft  v.  American  Civil  Liberties  Union,  No.  00-­‐1293,  May  13,  2002.)    Summary    The  major  cases  that  dealt  with  interpretations  of  the  First  Amendment  did  not  occur  until  the  twentieth  century.  Although  the  First  Amendment  is  written  in  absolute  terms,  the  courts  have  developed  guidelines  that  indicate  the  limitations  of  freedom  of  speech  and  freedom  of  the  press.  The  interpretations  of  the  First  Amendment  given  by  the  courts  have  varied  over  the  years,  depending  on  the  philosophical  bent  of  the  justices  hearing  the  cases.  Because  broadcast  media  are  licensed  to  serve  the  public  interest  and  use  space  on  the  electromagnetic  spectrum,  they  are  held  to  a  stricter  standard  under  the  First  Amendment  than  publishers  or  cable  television  operators.  The  courts  have  rejected  a  broadcast-­‐like  regulatory  scheme  for  the  Internet,  preferring  to  treat  the  medium  more  like  print  for  First  Amendment  issues.    Questions  for  Discussion    1.   Interpretations  of  the  First  Amendment  are  often  shaped  by  the  “spirit  of  the  times.”  How  have  the  events  of  our  time  influenced  court  rulings  on  First  Amendment  issues?  What  are  the  major  First  Amendment  themes  facing  American  society  today?  2.   Visit  the  Supreme  Court  Web  site  www.supremecourtus.gov/.  In  the  search  box  type  “First  Amendment.”  What  First  Amendment  issues  are  before  the  Court?  3.   Does  the  “spectrum  scarcity”  argument  outlined  in  Red  Lion  for  treating  broadcasters  differently  under  the  First  Amendment  still  make  sense  today?  Does  the  multichannel  universe  make  a  difference  in  the  legal  rationale?  4.   Justice  Douglas’  dissent  in  Dennis  v.  United  States  advocated  “full  and  free  discussion  of  ideas  we  hate.”  He  believed  that  this  kind  of  discussion  keeps  a  society  from  becoming  stagnant  and  more  susceptible  to  “stresses  and  strains  that  .  .  .  tear  all  civilizations  apart.”  Do  you  agree?  Are  some  ideas  just  too  “hateful”  to  be  afforded  open  discussion?    Notes/References    1.   Edward  G.  Hudon,  Freedom  of  Speech  and  Press  in  America  (Washington,  D.C.:  Public  Affairs  Press,  1963),  11.  2.   Donald  M.  Gillmor  and  Jerome  A.  Barron,  Mass  Communication  Law,  4th  ed.  (St.  Paul:  West  Publishing  Co.,  1984),  738.  3.   Ibid.  4.   John  Milton,  Areopagitica  and  of  Education,  ed.  George  H.  Sabine  (New  York:  Appleton-­‐Century-­‐Crofts,  1951),  50.  

5.   Vincent  Buranelli,  The  Trial  of  Peter  Zenger  (Washington  Square:  New  York  University  Press,  1957),  95.  6.   Ibid.,  97.  7.   Ibid.,  62.  8.   William  Blackstone,  Commentaries  on  the  Laws  of  England,  ed.  Charles  M.  Haar  (Boston:  Beacon  Press,  1962),  161–62.  9.   Zechariah  Chafee,  Jr.,  Thirty-­‐Five  Years  with  Freedom  of  Speech  (New  York:  Roger  N.  Baldwin,  Civil  Liberties  Foundation,  1952),  4.  10.   Schenck  v.  United  States,  249  U.S.  47  (1919).  11.   Abrams  v.  United  States,  250  U.S.  616  (1919).  12.   Ibid.  13.   J.  S.  Mill,  On  liberty  Etc.  (London:  Oxford  University  Press,  1969),  24.  14.   Abrams  v.  United  States,  250  U.S.  616  (1919).  S.Ct.  625,  69  L.Ed.  1138(1925).  15.   Gitlow  v.  People  of  State  of  New  York,  268  U.S.  652  (1925).  16.   Ibid.  17.   American  Communications  v.  Douds,  339  U.S.  382  (1950)  at  396.  18.Chaplinsky  v.  New  Hampshire,  315  U.S.  568,  62  S.Ct.  766,  86  L.Ed.  1031  (1942).  19.   Gooding  v.  Wilson,  405  U.S.  518  (1972).  20.   Ibid.  21.   Lewis  v.  City  of  New  Orleans,  408  U.S.  913  (1972)  and  Lewis  v.  City  of  New  Orleans,  415  U.S.  130  (1974).  22.   Cohen  v.  California,  403  U.S.  15  at  20  (1971).  23.   Village  of  Skokie  ν.  National  Socialist  Party,  373  N.E.  2d  21(Ill.  1978).  24.   Dennis  v.  United  States,  341  U.S.  494  (1951).  25.   United  States  v.  O’Brien,  391  U.S.  367  (1968).  26.   Texas  v.  Johnson,  491  U.S.  397  (1989).  27.   Near  v.  Minnesota,  283  U.S.  697  (1931).  28.   New  York  Times  v.  United  States,  403  U.S.  308  (1971).  29.   Red  Lion  v.  FCC,  395  U.S.  367  (1969).  30.   For  additional  information  regarding  this  issue,  see  the  Fairness  Report  of  1985,  102  EC.C.2d  143,  58  R.R.2d  1137  (1985)  and  “Fairness  Doctrine  Legislation  Re-­‐Emerges,”  Broadcasting  (January  12,  1991):  43.  31.   Turner  Broadcasting  System,  Inc.  v.  Federal  Communications  Commission,  Op.  93-­‐44  (U.S.  June  27,  1994).    Cases    Abrams  v.  United  States,  250  U.S.  616  (1919)  

American  Communications  Association  v.  Douds,  339  U.S.  382  (1950)  Ashcroft  v.  American  Civil  Liberties  Union  (Slip  Opinion,  No.  00-­‐1293,  May  13,  2002)  Ashcroft  v.  Free  Speech  Coaltion,  122  S.  Ct.  1389;  152  L.  Ed.  2d  403;  2002  U.S.  LEXIS  2789  (2002)  Brandenburg  v.  Ohio,  395  U.S.  444  (1969)  Chaplinsky  v.  New  Hampshire,  315  U.S.  568,  62  S.Ct.  766,  86  L.Ed.  1031  (1942)  Cohen  v.  California,  403  U.S.  15  at  20  (1971)  Dennis  v.  United  States,  341  U.S.  494  (1951)  FCC  v.  Pacifica  Foundation,  438  U.S.  726  (1978)  Gitlow  v.  People  of  State  of  New  York,  268  U.S.  652,  45  S.Ct.  625,  69  LEd.  1138  (1925)  Gooding  v.  Wilson,  405  U.S.  518  (1972)  Lewis  v.  City  of  New  Orleans,  408  U.S.  913  (1972)  Lewis  v.  City  of  New  Orleans,  415  U.S.  130  (1974)  Miami  Herald  Publishing  Co.  ν.  Tornillo,  418  U.S.  241  (1974)  Near  v.  Minnesota,  283  U.S.  697  (1931)  New  York  Times  v.  United  States,  403  U.S.  713  (1971)  R.A.V.  v.  City  of  St.  Paul,  Minn.,  112  S.Ct  2538  (1992)  Red  Lion  Broadcasting  Co.,  Inc.  v.  FCC,  395  U.S.  367  (1969)  Reno  v.  American  Civil  Liberties  Union,  521  U.S.  844  (1997)  Schenck  v.  United  States,  249  U.S.  47  (1919)  Texas  v.  Johnson,  Slip  op.  88-­‐155  (U.S.  June  21,  1989)  Tinker  v.  Des  Moines  Independent  School  District,  393  U.S.  503  (1969)  Turner  Broadcasting  System,  Inc.  v.  Federal  Communications  Commission,  Op.  93-­‐44  (U.S.  June  27,  1994)  United  States  v.  O’Brien,  391  U.S.  367  (1968)  Village  of  Skokie  v.  National  Socialist  Party,  373  N.E.2d  21  (Ill.,  1978)  Yates  v.  United  States,  354  U.S.  298  (1957)