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
noone 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, 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. 214–220 (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 in18 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 logfor 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. 519–529 (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., at16). 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 definedin
§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 asone 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 toe-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 fore-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 fallback 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. Thatis 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
owndesign.
I respectfully dissent.