SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
_________________________
No. 13–7451
_________________________
JOHN L. YATES, PETITIONER
v. UNITED STATES
on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the eleventh circuit
[February 25, 2015]
Justice Kagan, with whom Justice Scalia, Justice Kennedy, and Justice Thomas join, dissenting.
A criminal law,
18 U. S. C. §1519, prohibits tampering with “any record, document, or tangible object” in an attempt to obstruct a federal investigation. This case raises the question whether the term “tangible object” means the same thing in §1519 as it means in everyday language—any object capable of being touched. The answer should be easy: Yes. The term “tangible object” is broad, but clear. Throughout the U. S. Code and many States’ laws, it invariably covers physical objects of all kinds. And in §1519, context confirms what bare text says: All the words surrounding “tangible object” show that Congress meant the term to have a wide range. That fits with Congress’s evident purpose in enacting §1519: to punish those who alter or destroy physical evidence—
any physical evidence—with the intent of thwarting federal law enforcement.
The plurality instead interprets “tangible object” to cover “only objects one can use to record or preserve information.”
Ante,
at 7. The concurring opinion similarly, if more vaguely, contends that “tangible object” should refer to “something similar to records or documents”—and shouldn’t include colonial farmhouses, crocodiles, or fish.
Ante,
at 1 (Alito, J., concurring in judgment). In my view, conventional tools of statutory construction all lead to a more conventional result: A “tangible object” is an object that’s tangible. I would apply the statute that Congress enacted and affirm the judgment below.
I
While the plurality starts its analysis with §1519’s heading, see
ante, at 10 (“We note first §1519’s caption”),
I would begin with §1519’s text. When Congress has not supplied a definition, we generally give a statutory term its ordinary meaning. See,
e.g.,
Schindler Elevator Corp. v.
United States ex rel. Kirk, 563 U. S. ___, ___ (2011) (slip op., at 5). As the plurality must acknowledge, the ordinary meaning of “tangible object” is “a discrete thing that possesses physical form.”
Ante, at 7 (punctuation and citation omitted). A fish is, of course, a discrete thing that possesses physical form. See generally Dr. Seuss, One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish (1960). So the ordinary meaning of the term “tangible object” in §1519, as no one here disputes, covers fish (including too-small red grouper).
That interpretation accords with endless uses of the term in statute and rule books as construed by courts. Dozens of federal laws and rules of procedure (and hundreds of state enactments) include the term “tangible object” or its first cousin “tangible thing”—some in association with documents, others not. See,
e.g.,
7 U. S. C. §8302(2) (referring to “any material or tangible object that could harbor a pest or disease”);
15 U. S. C. §57b–1(c) (authorizing investigative demands for “documentary material or tangible things”);
18 U. S. C. §668(a)(1)(D) (defining “museum” as entity that owns “tangible objects that are exhibited to the public”);
28 U. S. C. §2507(b) (allowing discovery of “relevant facts, books, papers, documents or tangible things”).[
1] To my knowledge, no court has ever read any such provision to exclude things that don’t record or preserve data; rather, all courts have adhered to the statutory language’s ordinary (
i.e.,
expansive) meaning. For example, courts have understood the phrases “tangible objects” and “tangible things” in the Federal Rules of Criminal and Civil Procedure to cover everything from guns to drugs to machinery to . . . animals. See,
e.g.,
United States v.
Obiukwu, 17 F. 3d 816, 819 (CA6 1994) (
per curiam) (handgun);
United States v.
Acarino, 270 F. Supp. 526, 527–528 (EDNY 1967) (heroin);
In re Newman, 782 F. 2d 971, 972–975 (CA Fed. 1986) (energy generation system);
Martin v.
Reynolds Metals Corp., 297 F. 2d 49, 56–57 (CA9 1961) (cattle). No surprise, then, that—until today—courts have uniformly applied the term “tangible object” in §1519 in the same way. See,
e.g.,
United States v.
McRae, 702 F. 3d 806, 834–838 (CA5 2012) (corpse);
United States v.
Maury, 695 F. 3d 227, 243–244 (CA3 2012) (cement mixer).
That is not necessarily the end of the matter; I agree with the plurality (really, who does not?) that context matters in interpreting statutes. We do not “construe the meaning of statutory terms in a vacuum.”
Tyler v.
Cain,
533 U. S. 656, 662 (2001). Rather, we interpret particular words “in their context and with a view to their place in the overall statutory scheme.”
Davis v.
Michigan Dept. of Treasury,
489 U. S. 803, 809 (1989). And sometimes that means, as the plurality says, that the dictionary definition of a disputed term cannot control. See,
e.g.,
Bloate v.
United States,
559 U. S. 196, 205, n. 9 (2010). But this is not such an occasion, for here the text and its context point the same way. Stepping back from the words “tangible object” provides only further evidence that Congress said what it meant and meant what it said.
Begin with the way the surrounding words in §1519 reinforce the breadth of the term at issue. Section 1519 refers to “any” tangible object, thus indicating (in line with
that word’s plain meaning) a tangible object “of whatever kind.” Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 97 (2002). This Court has time and again recognized that “any” has “an expansive meaning,” bringing within a statute’s reach
all types of the item (here, “tangible object”) to which the law refers.
Department of Housing and Urban Development v.
Rucker,
535 U. S. 125, 131 (2002); see,
e.g.,
Republic of Iraq v.
Beaty,
556 U. S. 848, 856 (2009);
Ali v.
Federal Bureau of Prisons,
552 U. S. 214, 219–220 (2008). And the adjacent laundry list of verbs in §1519 (“alters, destroys, mutilates, conceals, covers up, falsifies, or makes a false entry”) further shows that Congress wrote a statute with a wide scope. Those words are supposed to ensure—just as “tangible object” is meant to—that §1519 covers the whole world of evidence-tampering, in all its prodigious variety. See
United States v.
Rodgers,
466 U. S. 475, 480 (1984) (rejecting a “narrow, technical definition” of a statutory term when it “clashes strongly” with “sweeping” language in the same sentence).
Still more, “tangible object” appears as part of a three-noun phrase (including also “records” and “documents”) common to evidence-tampering laws and always understood to embrace things of all kinds. The Model Penal Code’s evidence-tampering section, drafted more than 50 years ago, similarly prohibits a person from “alter[ing], destroy[ing], conceal[ing] or remov[ing] any
record, document or thing” in an effort to thwart an official investigation or proceeding. ALI, Model Penal Code §241.7(1), p. 175 (1962) (emphasis added). The Code’s commentary emphasizes that the offense described in that provision is “not limited to conduct that [alters] a written instrument.”
Id., §241.7, Comment 3, at 179. Rather, the language extends to “any physical object.”
Ibid. Consistent with that statement—and, of course, with ordinary meaning—courts in the more than 15 States that have laws based on the Model Code’s tampering provision apply them to all tangible objects, including drugs, guns, vehicles and . . . yes, animals. See,
e.g.,
State v.
Majors, 318 S. W. 3d 850, 859–861 (Tenn. 2010) (cocaine);
Puckett v.
State, 328 Ark. 355, 357–360, 944 S. W. 2d 111, 113–114 (1997) (gun);
State v.
Bruno, 236 Conn. 514, 519–520, 673 A. 2d 1117, 1122–1123 (1996) (bicycle, skeleton, blood stains);
State v.
Crites, 2007 Mont. Dist. LEXIS 615, *5–*7 (Dec. 21, 2007) (deer antlers). Not a one has limited the phrase’s scope to objects that record or preserve information.
The words “record, document, or tangible object” in §1519 also track language in
18 U. S. C. §1512, the federal witness-tampering law covering (as even the plurality accepts, see
ante, at 12)
physical evidence in all its forms. Section 1512, both in its original version (preceding §1519) and today, repeatedly uses the phrase “record, document, or other object”—most notably, in a provision prohibiting the use of force or threat to induce another person to withhold any of those materials from an official proceeding. §4(a) of the Victim and Witness Protection Act of 1982,
96Stat.
1249, as amended,
18 U. S. C. §1512(b)(2). That language, which itself likely derived from the Model Penal Code, encompasses no less the bloody knife than the incriminating letter, as all courts have for decades agreed. See,
e.g.,
United States v.
Kellington, 217 F. 3d 1084, 1088 (CA9 2000) (boat);
United States v.
Applewhaite, 195 F. 3d 679, 688 (CA3 1999) (stone wall). And typically “only the most compelling evidence” will persuade this Court that Congress intended “nearly identical language” in provisions dealing with related subjects to bear different meanings.
Communication Workers v.
Beck,
487 U. S. 735, 754 (1988); see A. Scalia & B. Garner, Reading Law: The Interpretation of Legal Texts 252 (2012). Context thus again confirms what text indicates.
And legislative history, for those who care about it, puts extra icing on a cake already frosted. Section 1519, as the plurality notes, see
ante, at 2, 6, was enacted after the Enron Corporation’s collapse, as part of the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002,
116Stat.
745. But the provision began its life in a separate bill, and the drafters emphasized that Enron was “only a case study exposing the shortcomings in our current laws” relating to both “corporate and criminal” fraud. S. Rep. No. 107–146, pp. 2, 11 (2002). The primary “loophole[ ]” Congress identified, see
id., at 14, arose from limits in the part of §1512 just described: That provision, as uniformly construed, prohibited a person from inducing another to destroy “record[s], document[s], or other object[s]”—of every type—but not from doing so himself. §1512(b)(2); see
supra, at 5. Congress (as even the plurality agrees, see
ante, at 6) enacted §1519 to close that yawning gap. But §1519 could fully achieve that goal only if it covered all the records, documents, and objects §1512 did, as well as all the means of tampering with them. And so §1519 was written to do exactly that—“to apply broadly to any acts to destroy or fabricate physical evidence,” as long as performed with the requisite intent. S. Rep. No. 107–146, at 14. “When a person destroys evidence,” the drafters explained, “overly technical legal distinctions should neither hinder nor prevent prosecution.”
Id., at 7. Ah well: Congress, meet today’s Court, which here invents just such a distinction with just such an effect. See
United States v.
Philadelphia Nat. Bank,
374 U. S. 321, 343 (1963) (“[C]reat[ing] a large loophole in a statute designed to close a loophole” is “illogical and disrespectful of . . . congressional purpose”).
As Congress recognized in using a broad term, giving immunity to those who destroy non-documentary evidence has no sensible basis in penal policy. A person who hides a murder victim’s body is no less culpable than one who burns the victim’s diary. A fisherman, like John Yates, who dumps undersized fish to avoid a fine is no less blameworthy than one who shreds his vessel’s catch log for the same reason. Congress thus treated both offenders in the same way. It understood, in enacting §1519, that destroying evidence is destroying evidence, whether or not that evidence takes documentary form.
II
A
The plurality searches far and wide for anything—
anything—to support its interpretation of §1519. But its fishing expedition comes up empty.
The plurality’s analysis starts with §1519’s title: “Destruction, alteration, or falsification of records in Federal investigations and bankruptcy.” See
ante, at 10; see also
ante, at 3–4 (opinion of Alito, J.). That’s already a sign something is amiss. I know of no other case in which we have
begun our interpretation of a statute with the title, or relied on a title to override the law’s clear terms. Instead, we have followed “the wise rule that the title of a statute and the heading of a section cannot limit the plain meaning of the text.”
Trainmen v.
Baltimore & Ohio R. Co.,
331 U. S. 519, 528–529 (1947).
The reason for that “wise rule” is easy to see: A title is, almost necessarily, an abridgment. Attempting to mention every term in a statute “would often be ungainly as well as useless”; accordingly, “matters in the text . . . are frequently unreflected in the headings.”
Id., at 528. Just last year, this Court observed that two titles in a nearby section of Sarbanes-Oxley serve as “but a short-hand reference to the general subject matter” of the provision at issue, “not meant to take the place of the detailed provisions of the text.”
Lawson v.
FMR LLC, 571 U. S. ___, ___ (2014) (slip op., at 16) (quoting
Trainmen, 331 U. S., at 528). The “under-inclusiveness” of the headings, we stated, was “apparent.”
Lawson, 571 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 16).
So too for §1519’s title, which refers to “destruction, alteration, or falsification” but
not to mutilation, concealment, or covering up, and likewise mentions “records” but
not other documents or objects. Presumably, the plurality would not refuse to apply §1519 when a person only conceals evidence rather than destroying, altering, or falsifying it; instead, the plurality would say that a title is just a title, which cannot “undo or limit” more specific statutory text.
Ibid. (quoting
Trainmen, 331 U. S., at 529). The same holds true when the evidence in question is not a “record” but something else whose destruction, alteration, etc., is intended to obstruct justice.
The plurality next tries to divine meaning from §1519’s “position within Chapter 73 of Title 18.”
Ante, at 10. But that move is yet odder than the last. As far as I can tell, this Court has never once suggested that the section number assigned to a law bears upon its meaning. Cf. Scalia,
supra, at xi–xvi (listing more than 50 interpretive principles and canons without mentioning the plurality’s new number-in-the-Code theory). And even on its own terms, the plurality’s argument is hard to fathom. The plurality claims that if §1519 applied to objects generally, Congress would not have placed it “after the pre-existing §1516, §1517, and §1518” because those are “specialized provisions.”
Ante, at 11.
But search me if I can find a better place for a broad ban on evidence-tampering. The plural- ity seems to agree that the law properly goes in Chapter 73—the criminal code’s chapter on “obstruction of justice.” But the provision does not logically fit into any of that chapter’s pre-existing sections. And with the first 18 numbers of the chapter already taken (starting with §1501 and continuing through §1518), the law naturally took the 19th place. That is standard operating procedure. Prior to the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002, all of Chapter 73 was ordered chronologically: Section 1518 was later enacted than §1517, which was later enacted than §1516, which was . . . well, you get the idea. And after Sarbanes-Oxley, Congress has continued in the same vein. Section 1519 is thus right where you would expect it (as is the contemporaneously passed §1520)—between §1518 (added in 1996) and §1521 (added in 2008).[
2]
The plurality’s third argument, relying on the surplusage canon, at least invokes a known tool of statutory construction—but it too comes to nothing. Says the plurality: If read naturally, §1519 “would render superfluous” §1512(c)(1), which Congress passed “as part of the same act.”
Ante, at 13. But that is not so: Although the two provisions significantly overlap, each applies to conduct the other does not. The key difference between the two is that §1519 protects the integrity of “matter[s] within the jurisdiction of any [federal] department or agency” whereas §1512(c)(1) safeguards “official proceeding[s]” as defined in §1515(a)(1)(A). Section 1519’s language often applies more broadly than §1512(c)(1)’s, as the plurality notes. For example, an FBI investigation counts as a matter within a federal department’s jurisdiction, but falls outside the statutory definition of “official proceeding” as construed by courts. See,
e.g.,
United States v.
Gabriel, 125 F. 3d 89, 105, n. 13 (CA2 1997). But conversely, §1512(c)(1) sometimes reaches more widely than §1519. For example, because an “official proceeding” includes any “proceeding before a judge or court of the United States,” §1512(c)(1) prohibits tampering with evidence in federal litigation between private parties. See §1515(a)(1)(A);
United States v.
Burge, 711 F. 3d 803, 808–810 (CA7 2013);
United States v.
Reich, 479 F. 3d 179, 185–187 (CA2 2007) (Sotomayor, J.). By contrast, §1519 wouldn’t ordinarily operate in that context because a federal court isn’t a “department or agency.” See
Hubbard v.
United States,
514 U. S. 695, 715 (1995).[
3] So the surplusage canon doesn’t come into play.[
4] Overlap—even significant overlap—abounds in the criminal law. See
Loughrin v.
United States, 573 U. S. ___, ___ – ___, n. 4 (2014) (slip op., at 6–7, n. 4). This Court has never thought that of such ordinary stuff surplusage is made. See
ibid.;
Connecticut Nat. Bank v.
Germain,
503 U. S. 249, 253 (1992).
And the legislative history to which the plurality appeals, see
ante, at 6,
only cuts against it because those materials show that lawmakers knew that §1519 and §1512(c)(1) share much common ground. Minority Leader Lott introduced the amendment that included §1512(c)(1) (along with other criminal and corporate fraud provisions) late in the legislative process, explaining that he did so at the specific request of the President. See 148 Cong. Rec. 12509, 12512 (2002) (remarks of Sen. Lott). Not only Lott but several other Senators noted the overlap between the President’s package and provisions already in the bill, most notably §1519. See
id., at 12512 (remarks of Sen. Lott);
id., at 12513 (remarks of Sen. Biden);
id., at 12517 (remarks of Sens. Hatch and Gramm). The presence of both §1519 and §1512(c)(1) in the final Act may have reflected belt-and-suspenders caution: If §1519 contained some flaw, §1512(c)(1) would serve as a backstop. Or the addition of §1512(c)(1) may have derived solely from legislators’ wish “to satisfy audiences other than courts”—that is, the President and his Justice Department. Gluck & Bressman, Statutory Interpretation from the Inside, 65 Stan. L. Rev. 901, 935 (2013) (emphasis deleted). Whichever the case, Congress’s consciousness of overlap between the two provisions removes any conceivable reason to cast aside §1519’s ordinary meaning in service of preventing some statutory repetition.
Indeed, the inclusion of §1512(c)(1) in Sarbanes-Oxley creates a far worse problem for the plurality’s construction of §1519 than for mine. Section 1512(c)(1) criminalizes the destruction of any “record, document, or other object”; §1519 of any “record, document, or tangible object.” On the plurality’s view, one “object” is really an object, whereas the other is only an object that preserves or stores information. But “[t]he normal rule of statutory construction assumes that identical words used in different parts of the same act,” passed at the same time, “are intended to have the same meaning.”
Sorenson v.
Secretary of Treasury,
475 U. S. 851, 860 (1986) (internal quotation marks omitted). And that is especially true when the different provisions pertain to the same subject. See
supra, at 5–6. The plurality doesn’t—really, can’t—explain why it instead interprets the same words used in two provisions of the same Act addressing the same basic problem to mean fundamentally different things.
Getting nowhere with surplusage, the plurality switches canons, hoping that
noscitur a sociis and
ejusdem generis will save it. See
ante,
at 13–16; see also
ante, at 1–2 (opinion of Alito, J.).
The first of those related canons advises that words grouped in a list be given similar meanings. The second counsels that a general term following specific words embraces only things of a similar kind. According to the plurality, those Latin maxims change the English meaning of “tangible object” to only things, like records and documents, “used to record or preserve information.”
Ante, at 14.[
5]
But understood as this Court always has, the canons have no such transformative effect on the workaday language Congress chose.
As an initial matter, this Court uses
noscitur a sociis and
ejusdem generis to resolve ambiguity, not create it. Those principles are “useful rule[s] of construction where words are of obscure or doubtful meaning.”
Russell Motor Car Co. v.
United States,
261 U. S. 514, 520 (1923). But when words have a clear definition, and all other contextual clues support that meaning, the canons cannot properly defeat Congress’s decision to draft broad legislation. See,
e.g.,
Ali, 552 U. S., at 227 (rejecting the invocation of these canons as an “attempt to create ambiguity where the statute’s text and structure suggest none”).
Anyway, assigning “tangible object” its ordinary meaning comports with
noscitur a sociis and
ejusdem generis when applied, as they should be, with attention to §1519’s subject and purpose. Those canons require identifying a common trait that links all the words in a statutory phrase. See,
e.g.,
Graham County Soil and Water Conservation Dist. v.
United States ex rel. Wilson,
559 U. S. 280, 289, n. 7 (2010);
Ali,
552 U. S., at 224–226. In responding to that demand, the plurality characterizes records and documents as things that preserve information—and so they are. But just as much, they are things that provide information, and thus potentially serve as evidence relevant to matters under review. And in a statute pertaining to obstruction of federal investigations, that evidentiary function comes to the fore. The destruction of records and documents prevents law enforcement agents from gathering facts relevant to official inquiries. And so too does the destruction of tangible objects—of whatever kind. Whether the item is a fisherman’s ledger or an undersized fish, throwing it overboard has the identical effect on the administration of justice. See
supra, at 7. For purposes of §1519, records, documents, and (all) tangible objects are therefore alike.
Indeed, even the plurality can’t fully credit its
noscitur/
ejusdem argument. The same reasoning would apply to
every law placing the word “object” (or “thing”) after “record” and “document.” But as noted earlier, such statutes are common: The phrase appears (among other places) in many state laws based on the Model Penal Code, as well as in multiple provisions of §1512. See
supra, at 4–5. The plurality accepts that in those laws “object” means object; its argument about superfluity positively
depends on giving §1512(c)(1) that broader reading.
See
ante,
at 13, 16. What, then, is the difference here? The plurality proposes that some of those statutes describe less serious offenses than §1519. See
ante, at 17. How and why that distinction affects application of the
noscitur a sociis and
ejusdem generis canons is left obscure: Count it as one more of the plurality’s never-before-propounded, not-readily-explained interpretive theories. See
supra, at 7, 8–9, 11–12. But in any event, that rationale cannot support the plurality’s willingness to give “object” its natural meaning in §1512, which (like §1519) sets out felonies with penalties of up to 20 years. See §§1512(a)(3)(C), (b), (c).
The canons, in the plurality’s interpretive world, apparently switch on and off whenever convenient.
And the plurality’s invocation of §1519’s verbs does nothing to buttress its canon-based argument. See
ante, at 14–15;
ante, at 2–3 (opinion of Alito, J.). The plurality observes that §1519 prohibits “falsif[ying]” or “mak[ing] a false entry in” a tangible object, and no one can do those things to, say, a murder weapon (or a fish).
Ante, at 14. But of course someone can alter, destroy, mutilate, conceal, or cover up such a tangible object, and §1519 prohibits those actions too. The Court has never before suggested that all the verbs in a statute need to match up with all the nouns. See
Robers v.
United States, 572 U. S. ___, ___ (2014) (slip op., at 4) (“[T]he law does not require legislators to write extra language specifically exempting, phrase by phrase, applications in respect to which a portion of a phrase is not needed”). And for good reason. It is exactly when Congress sets out to draft a statute broadly—to include every imaginable variation on a theme—that such mismatches will arise. To respond by narrowing the law, as the plurality does, is thus to flout both what Congress wrote and what Congress wanted.
Finally, when all else fails, the plurality invokes the rule of lenity. See
ante, at 18. But even in its most robust form, that rule only kicks in when, “after all legitimate tools of interpretation have been exhausted, ‘a reasonable doubt persists’ regarding whether Congress has made the defendant’s conduct a federal crime.”
Abramski v.
United States, 573 U. S. ___, ___ (2014) (Scalia, J., dissenting) (slip op., at 12) (quoting
Moskal v.
United States,
498 U. S. 103, 108 (1990)). No such doubt lingers here. The plural- ity points to the breadth of §1519, see
ante, at 18, as though breadth were equivalent to ambiguity. It is not. Section 1519
is very broad. It is also very clear. Every traditional tool of statutory interpretation points in the same direction, toward “object” meaning object. Lenity offers no proper refuge from that straightforward (even though capacious) construction.[
6]
B
The concurring opinion is a shorter, vaguer version of the plurality’s. It relies primarily on the
noscitur a sociis and
ejusdem generis canons, tries to bolster them with §1519’s “list of verbs,” and concludes with the section’s title. See
supra, at 7–8, 12–13, 14–15 (addressing each of those arguments). (Notably, even the concurrence puts no stock in the plurality’s section-number and superfluity claims.) From those familiar materials, the concurrence arrives at the following definition: “ ‘tangible object’ should mean something similar to records or documents.”
Ante, at 4 (opinion of Alito, J.). In amplifying that purported guidance, the concurrence suggests applying the term “tangible object” in keeping with what “a neighbor, when asked to identify something similar to record or document,” might answer.
Ante, at 1. “[W]ho wouldn’t raise an eyebrow,” the concurrence wonders, if the neighbor said “crocodile”?
Ante, at 1–2. Courts sometimes say, when explaining the Latin maxims, that the “words of a statute should be interpreted consistent with their neighbors.” See,
e.g.,
United States v.
Locke,
529 U. S. 89, 105 (2000). The concurrence takes that expression literally.
But §1519’s meaning should not hinge on the odd game of Mad Libs the concurrence proposes. No one reading §1519 needs to fill in a blank after the words “records” and “documents.” That is because Congress, quite helpfully, already did so—adding the term “tangible object.” The issue in this case is what that term means. So if the concurrence wishes to ask its neighbor a question, I’d recommend a more pertinent one: Do you think a fish (or, if the concurrence prefers, a crocodile) is a “tangible object”? As to that query, “who wouldn’t raise an eyebrow” if the neighbor said “no”?
In insisting on its different question, the concurrence neglects the proper function of catchall phrases like “or tangible object.” The reason Congress uses such terms is precisely to reach things that, in the concurrence’s words, “do[ ] not spring to mind”—to my mind, to my neighbor’s, or (most important) to Congress’s.
Ante, at 1 (opinion of Alito, J.). As this Court recently explained: “[T]he whole value of a generally phrased residual [term] is that it serves as a catchall for matters not specifically contemplated—known unknowns.”
Beaty, 556 U. S., at 860. Congress realizes that in a game of free association with “record” and “document,” it will never think of all the other things—including crocodiles and fish—whose destruction or alteration can (less frequently but just as effectively) thwart law enforcement. Cf.
United States v.
Stubbs, 11 F. 3d 632, 637–638 (CA6 1993) (dead crocodiles used as evidence to support smuggling conviction).
And so Congress adds the general term “or tangible object”—again, exactly because such things “do[ ] not spring to mind.”[
7]
The concurrence suggests that the term “tangible object” serves not as a catchall for physical evidence but to “ensure beyond question” that e-mails and other electronic files fall within §1519’s compass.
Ante, at 2. But that claim is eyebrow-raising in its own right. Would a Congress wishing to make certain that §1519 applies to e-mails add the phrase “tangible object” (as opposed, say, to “electronic communications”)? Would a judge or jury member predictably find that “tangible object” encompasses something as virtual as e-mail (as compared, say, with something as real as a fish)? If not (and the answer is not), then that term cannot function as a failsafe for e-mails.
The concurrence acknowledges that no one of its arguments can carry the day; rather, it takes the Latin canons plus §1519’s verbs plus §1519’s title to “tip the case” for Yates.
Ante, at 1. But the sum total of three mistaken arguments is . . . three mistaken arguments. They do not get better in the combining. And so the concurrence ends up right where the plurality does, except that the concurrence, eschewing the rule of lenity, has nothing to fall back on.
III
If none of the traditional tools of statutory interpretation can produce today’s result, then what accounts for it? The plurality offers a clue when it emphasizes the disproportionate penalties §1519 imposes if the law is read broadly. See
ante, at 17–18. Section 1519, the plurality objects, would then “expose[ ] individuals to 20-year prison sentences for tampering with
any physical object that
might have evidentiary value in
any federal investigation into
any offense.”
Ante, at 18. That brings to the surface the real issue: overcriminalization and excessive punishment in the U. S. Code.
Now as to this statute, I think the plurality somewhat—though only somewhat—exaggerates the matter. The plurality omits from its description of §1519 the requirement that a person act “knowingly” and with “the intent to impede, obstruct, or influence” federal law enforcement. And in highlighting §1519’s maximum penalty, the plurality glosses over the absence of any prescribed minimum. (Let’s not forget that Yates’s sentence was not 20 years, but 30 days.) Congress presumably enacts laws with high maximums and no minimums when it thinks the prohibited conduct may run the gamut from major to minor. That is assuredly true of acts obstructing justice. Compare this case with the following, all of which properly come within, but now fall outside, §1519:
McRae, 702 F. 3d, at 834–838 (burning human body to thwart murder investigation);
Maury, 695 F. 3d, at 243–244 (altering cement mixer to impede inquiry into amputation of employee’s fingers);
United States v.
Natal, 2014 U. S. Dist. LEXIS 108852, *24–*26 (D Conn., Aug. 7, 2014) (repainting van to cover up evidence of fatal arson). Most district judges, as Congress knows, will recognize differences between such cases and prosecutions like this one, and will try to make the punishment fit the crime. Still and all, I tend to think, for the reasons the plurality gives, that §1519 is a bad law—too broad and undifferentiated, with too-high maximum penalties, which give prosecutors too much leverage and sentencers too much discretion. And I’d go further: In those ways, §1519 is unfortunately not an outlier, but an emblem of a deeper pathology in the federal criminal code.
But whatever the wisdom or folly of §1519, this Court does not get to rewrite the law. “Resolution of the pros and cons of whether a statute should sweep broadly or narrowly is for Congress.”
Rodgers, 466 U. S., at 484. If judges disagree with Congress’s choice, we are perfectly entitled to say so—in lectures, in law review articles, and even in dicta. But we are not entitled to replace the statute Congress enacted with an alternative of our own design.
I respectfully dissent.