SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
_________________
No. 16–424
_________________
RODNEY CLASS, PETITIONER
v. UNITED STATES
on writ of certiorari to the united states court of appeals for the district of columbia circuit
[February 21, 2018]
Justice Alito, with whom Justice Kennedy and Justice Thomas join, dissenting.
Roughly 95% of felony cases in the federal and state courts are resolved by guilty pleas.[
1] Therefore it is critically important that defendants, prosecutors, and judges understand the consequences of these pleas. In this case, the parties have asked us to identify the claims that a defendant can raise on appeal after entering an unconditional guilty plea. Regrettably, the Court provides no clear answer.
By my count, the Court identifies no fewer than five rules for ascertaining the issues that can be raised. According to the Court, a defendant who pleads guilty may assert on appeal (1) a claim that “implicates ‘the very power of the State’ to prosecute [him],”
ante, at 4, (2) a claim that does not contradict the facts alleged in the charging document,
ante, at 5–6, (3) a claim that “ ‘the facts alleged and admitted do not constitute a crime,’ ”
ante, at 5, and (4) claims other than “case-related constitutional defects that ‘occurred prior to the entry of the guilty plea,’ ”
ante, at 6–7 (some internal quotation marks omitted). In addition, the Court suggests (5) that such a defendant may not be able to assert a claim that “contradict[s] the terms of . . . [a] written plea agreement,”
ante, at 6, but whether this rule applies when the claim falls into one of the prior four categories is left unclear. How these rules fit together is anybody’s guess. And to make matters worse, the Court also fails to make clear whether its holding is based on the Constitution or some other ground.
I
There is no justification for the muddle left by today’s decision. The question at issue is not conceptually complex. In determining whether a plea of guilty prevents a defendant in federal or state court from raising a particular issue on appeal, the first question is whether the Federal Constitution precludes waiver. If the Federal Constitution permits waiver, the next question is whether some other law nevertheless bars waiver. And if no law prevents waiver, the final question is whether the defendant knowingly and intelligently waived the right to raise the claim on appeal.
McMann v.
Richardson,
397 U. S. 759, 766 (1970).
Petitioner Rodney Class was charged with violating a federal statute that forbids the carrying of firearms on the grounds of the United States Capitol. See
40 U. S. C. §5104(e)(1). After entering an unconditional guilty plea, he appealed his conviction, asserting that his conduct was protected by the
Second Amendment and that the statute he violated is unconstitutionally vague. The Court of Appeals affirmed his conviction, holding that Class had relinquished his right to litigate these claims when he entered his unconditional plea.
Analyzing this case under the framework set out above, I think the Court of Appeals was clearly correct. First, the Federal Constitution does not prohibit the waiver of the rights Class asserts. We have held that most personal constitutional rights may be waived, see,
e.g., Peretz v.
United States,
501 U. S. 923, 936–937 (1991), and Class concedes that this is so with respect to the rights he is asserting, Tr. of Oral Arg. 5, 18.
Second, no federal statute or rule bars waiver. On the contrary, Rule 11 of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure makes it clear that, with one exception that I will discuss below, a defendant who enters an unconditional plea waives all nonjurisdictional claims. Although the Rule does not say this expressly, that is the unmistakable implication of subdivision (a)(2), which allows a defendant, “[w]ith the consent of the court and the government,” to “enter a conditional plea of guilty or nolo contendere, reserving in writing the right to have an appellate court review an adverse determination of a specified pretrial motion.” “Where [a law] explicitly enumerates certain exceptions to a general prohibition, additional exceptions are not to be implied, in the absence of evidence of a contrary . . . intent.”
Andrus v.
Glover Constr. Co.,
446 U. S. 608, 616–617 (1980). And here, there is strong evidence confirming that other exceptions were ruled out.
The Advisory Committee’s Notes on Rule 11 make this clear, stating that an unconditional plea (with the previously mentioned exception) “constitutes a waiver of all nonjurisdictional defects.” Notes on 1983 Amendments, 18 U. S. C. App., p. 911. Advisory Committee’s Notes on a federal rule of procedure “provide a reliable source of insight into the meaning of a rule, especially when, as here, the rule was enacted precisely as the Advisory Committee proposed.”
United States v.
Vonn,
535 U. S. 55, 64, n. 6 (2002).[
2] Subdivision (a)(2) was adopted against the backdrop of decisions of this Court holding that a guilty plea generally relinquishes all defenses to conviction, see,
e.g., Tollett v.
Henderson,
411 U. S. 258, 267 (1973), and Rule 11(a)(2) creates a limited exception to that general principle. Far from prohibiting the waiver of nonjurisdictional claims, Rule 11 actually bars the raising of such claims (once again, with the previously mentioned exception).
For now, I will skip over that exception and proceed to the final question—whether Class voluntarily and intelligently waived his right to raise his
Second Amendment and due process claims on appeal. It is not clear that he raised this question in the Court of Appeals, and in any event, this fact-specific inquiry is not within the scope of the question of law on which we granted review: “Whether a guilty plea inherently waives a defendant’s right to challenge the constitutionality of his statute of conviction.” Pet. for Cert. i. The Court does not decide the case on that ground. Nor would I.
II
A
I now turn to the one exception mentioned in the Advisory Committee’s Notes on Rule 11—what the Notes, rather grandly, term the “
Menna-Blackledge doctrine.” Advisory Committee’s Notes, 18 U. S. C. App., at 912. This “doctrine” consists of
Blackledge v.
Perry,
417 U. S. 21 (1974), a thinly reasoned decision handed down 44 years ago, and
Menna v.
New York,
423 U. S. 61 (1975) (
per curiam), a
per curiam decision issued the next year. These cases hold that a defendant has the right under the Due Process Clause of the
Fourteenth Amendment to contest certain issues on appeal even if the defendant entered an unconditional guilty plea. Since a rule of procedure cannot abrogate a constitutional right, the Advisory Committee’s Notes on Rule 11 specify that Rule 11(a)(2) “has no application” to the “
Menna-Blackledge doctrine” and “should not be interpreted as either broadening or narrowing [that] doctrine or as establishing procedures for its application.” Advisory Committee’s Notes, 18 U. S. C. App., at 912.
Because this doctrine is the only exception recognized in Rule 11 and because the doctrine figures prominently in the opinion of the Court, it is important to examine its foundation and meaning.
B
Blackledge and
Menna represented marked departures from our prior decisions. Before they were handed down, our precedents were clear: When a defendant pleaded guilty to a crime, he relinquished his right to litigate all nonjurisdictional challenges to his conviction (except for the claim that his plea was not voluntary and intelligent), and the prosecution could assert this forfeiture to defeat a subsequent appeal. The theory was easy to understand. As we explained in
Tollett,
our view was that “a guilty plea represents a break in the chain of events which has preceded it in the criminal process.” 411 U. S., at 267. The defendant’s decision to plead guilty extinguished his right to litigate whatever “possible defenses” or “constitutional plea[s] in abatement” he might have pursued at trial or on appeal.
Id., at 267–268. Guilty pleas were understood to have this effect because a guilty plea comprises both factual and legal concessions. Hence, we said in
Tollett, a defendant who pleads guilty is barred from contesting not only the “historical facts” but also the “
constitutional significance” of those facts, even if he failed to “correctly apprais[e]” that significance at the time of his plea.
Id., at 267 (emphasis added).
When
Tollett declared that a guilty plea encompasses all legal and factual concessions necessary to authorize the conviction, it was simply reiterating a principle we had enunciated many times before, most recently in the so-called “
Brady trilogy.” See
Brady v.
United States,
397 U. S. 742, 748 (1970) (“[T]he plea is more than an admission of past conduct; it is the defendant’s consent that judgment of conviction may be entered”);
McMann, 397 U. S., at 774 (a defendant who pleads guilty “assumes the risk of ordinary error in either his or his attorney’s assessment of the law and facts”);
Parker v.
North Carolina,
397 U. S. 790, 797 (1970) (similar). As we put it in
Boykin v.
Alabama,
395 U. S. 238, 242 (1969), “[a] plea of guilty is more than a confession which admits that the accused did various acts; it is itself a conviction; nothing remains but to give judgment and determine punishment.”
On the strength of that rule, we held that defendants who pleaded guilty forfeited a variety of important constitutional claims. For instance, a defendant who pleaded guilty could not attack his conviction on the ground that the prosecution violated the Equal Protection Clause by systematically excluding African-Americans from grand juries in the county where he was indicted.
Tollett,
supra, at 266. Nor could he argue that the prosecution unlawfully coerced his confession—even if the confession was the only evidence supporting the conviction.
McMann,
supra, at 768;
Parker,
supra, at 796–797. Nor could he assert that his statute of conviction employed an unconstitutional penalty provision; his consent to be punished under the statute precluded this defense.
Brady,
supra, at 756–757. Reflecting our general thinking, then-Judge Burger explained: “[I]f voluntarily and understandingly made, even a layman should expect a plea of guilty to be treated as an honest confession of guilt and a waiver of all defenses known and unknown. And such is the law.”
Edwards v.
United States, 256 F. 2d 707, 709 (CADC 1958) (footnote omitted); see also A. Bishop, Waivers in Pleas of Guilty, 60 F. R. D. 513, 525–526 (1974) (summarizing the state of the law on the eve of
Blackledge: “All the bulwarks of the fortress of defense are abandoned by the plea of guilty. . . . The plea of guilty surrenders all defenses whatever and all nonjurisdictional defects” (collecting cases)).
III
Blackledge and
Menna diverged from these prior precedents, but neither case provided a clear or coherent explanation for the departure.
A
In
Blackledge, the Court held that a defendant who pleaded guilty could nevertheless challenge his conviction on the ground that his right to due process was violated by a vindictive prosecution. 417 U. S., at 30–31.
The Court
asserted that this right was “markedly different” from the equal protection and
Fifth Amendment rights at stake in
Tollett and the
Brady trilogy because it “went to the very power of the State to bring the defendant into court to answer the charge brought against him.” 417 U. S., at 30. The meaning of this distinction, however, is hard to grasp.
The most natural way to understand
Blackledge’s reference to “the very power of the State” would be to say that an argument survives a guilty plea if it attacks the court’s jurisdiction. After all, that is usually what we mean when we refer to the power to adjudicate. See,
e.g., Arbaugh v.
Y & H Corp.,
546 U. S. 500, 514 (2006);
United States v.
Cotton,
535 U. S. 625, 630 (2002);
Steel Co. v.
Citizens for Better Environment,
523 U. S. 83, 89 (1998). But that cannot be what
Blackledge meant.
First, the defendant in
Blackledge had been tried in state court in North Carolina for a state-law offense, and the jurisdiction of state courts to entertain such prosecutions is purely a matter of state law (unless Congress validly and affirmatively ousts their jurisdiction—something that had not happened in that case).[
3] Second, a rule that jurisdictional defects alone survive a guilty plea would not explain the result in
Blackledge itself. Arguments attacking a court’s subject-matter jurisdiction can neither be waived nor forfeited. See,
e.g., Wisconsin Dept. of Corrections v.
Schacht,
524 U. S. 381, 389 (1998);
Miller v.
Roberts, 212 N. C. 126, 129, 193 S. E. 286, 288 (1937). But the due process right at issue in
Blackledge was perfectly capable of being waived or forfeited—as is just about every other right that is personal to a criminal defendant. See,
e.g., Peretz, 501 U. S., at 936–937.
So if the “very power to prosecute” theory does not refer to jurisdiction, what else might it mean? The only other possibility that comes to mind is that it might mean that a defendant can litigate a claim if it asserts a right not to be tried, as opposed to a right not to be convicted. But we have said that “virtually all rights of criminal defendants” are “merely . . . right[s] not to be convicted,” as distinguished from “right[s] not to be tried.”
Flanagan v.
United States,
465 U. S. 259, 267 (1984). Even when a constitutional violation requires the dismissal of an indictment, that “does not mean that [the] defendant enjoy[ed] a ‘right not to be tried’ ” on the charges.
United States v.
Mac- Donald,
435 U. S. 850, 860, n. 7 (1978).
The rule could hardly be otherwise. Most constitutional defenses (and plenty of statutory defenses), if successfully asserted in a pretrial motion, deprive the prosecution of the “power” to proceed to trial or secure a conviction. If that remedial consequence converted them all into rights not to be prosecuted,
Blackledge would have no discernible limit. “We have, after all, acknowledged that virtually every right that could be enforced appropriately by pretrial dismissal might loosely be described as conferring a ‘right not to stand trial.’ ”
Digital Equipment Corp. v.
Desktop Direct, Inc.,
511 U. S. 863, 873 (1994). Indeed, “all litigants who have a meritorious pretrial claim for dismissal can reasonably claim a right not to stand trial.”
Van Cauwenberghe v.
Biard,
486 U. S. 517, 524 (1988).
It is true that we have spoken of a distinction between a right not to be tried and a right not to be convicted in one context: when defining the scope of the collateral order doctrine.
E.g., Flanagan,
supra, at 265–267. That is, we have allowed defendants in federal criminal cases to take an immediate appeal from the denial of a pretrial motion when the right at issue is properly understood to be a right not to be tried. A prime example is a case in which a defendant claims that a prosecution would violate the Double Jeopardy Clause. See
Abney v.
United States,
431 U. S. 651, 662 (1977). Allowing an interlocutory appeal in that situation protects against all the harms that flow from the prolongation of a case that should never have been brought. See
id., at 661. But that rationale cannot justify the
Menna-Blackledge doctrine, because allowing a defendant to appeal after a guilty plea does not cut short a prosecution that should never have been brought. On the contrary, it prolongs the litigation. So the distinction drawn in our collateral order cases makes no sense in distinguishing between the claims that should and the claims that should not survive a guilty plea.
Nor, in any event, would such a rule be consistent with the
decision in
Blackledge, because we have held that an unsuccessful vindictive prosecution claim may
not be appealed before trial.
United States v.
Hollywood Motor Car Co.,
458 U. S. 263, 264 (1982) (
per curiam). And none of this would do any good for Class, for we have never permitted a defendant to appeal a pretrial order rejecting a constitutional challenge to the statute the defendant allegedly violated. In fact we have repudiated the very suggestion.
Id., at 270.
The upshot is that the supposed “right not to be prosecuted” has no intelligible meaning in this context. And
Blackledge identified no basis for this new right in the text of the Constitution or history or prior precedent. What is more, it did all this without bothering to consider the understanding of a guilty plea under the law of the State where the
Blackledge defendant was convicted or anything that was said to him or that he said at the time of his plea.
B
If the thinking behind
Blackledge is hard to follow,
Menna may be worse. In that case, the Court held that a defendant who pleaded guilty could challenge his conviction on double jeopardy grounds. 423 U. S., at 62. The case was decided by a three-page
per curiam opinion, its entire analysis confined to a single footnote. And the footnote, rather than elucidating what was said in
Blackledge, substituted a different rationale. Arguing that
Tollett and the other prior related cases did not preclude appellate review of the double jeopardy claim, the Court wrote:
“[A] counseled plea of guilty is an admission of factual guilt so reliable that, where voluntary and intelligent, it
quite validly removes the issue of factual guilt from the case. In most cases, factual guilt is a sufficient basis for the State’s imposition of punishment. A guilty plea, therefore, simply renders irrelevant those constitutional violations not logically inconsistent with the valid establishment of factual guilt.”
Menna, 423 U. S., at 62–63, n. 2.
The wording of the final sentence is not easy to parse, but I interpret the Court’s reasoning as follows: A defendant who pleads guilty does no more than admit that he committed the essential conduct charged in the indictment; therefore a guilty plea allows the litigation on appeal of any claim that is not inconsistent with the facts that the defendant necessarily admitted. If that is the correct meaning, the sentence would overrule many of the cases that it purported to distinguish, including
Tollett, which involved an unconstitutional grand jury claim. It would contradict much that the Court had previously said about the effect of a guilty plea. See,
e.g., Boykin, 395 U. S., at 242 (“A plea of guilty is more than a confession which admits that the accused did various acts; it is itself a conviction”). And it would permit a defendant who pleads guilty to raise on appeal a whole host of claims, including, for example, the denial of motions to suppress evidence allegedly obtained in violation of the Fourth, Fifth, or
Sixth Amendments. See,
e.g., Linkletter v.
Walker,
381 U. S. 618, 638 (1965) (most
Fourth Amendment claims have “no bearing on guilt”). A holding of that scope is not what one expects to see in a footnote in a
per curiam opinion, but if the Court meant less, its meaning is unclear.
C
When the Court returned to
Blackledge and
Menna in
United States v.
Broce,
488 U. S. 563 (1989), the Court essentially repudiated the theories offered in those earlier cases. (The Court terms this a “reaffirm[ation].”
Ante, at 6.) Like
Menna,
Broce involved a defendant (actually two defendants) who pleaded guilty but then sought to attack their convictions on double jeopardy grounds. 488 U. S., at 565. This time, however, the Court held that their guilty pleas prevented them from litigating their claims.
Ibid.
The Court began by specifically disavowing
Menna’s suggestion that a guilty plea admits only “ ‘factual guilt,’ ” meaning “the acts described in the indictments.”
Broce, 488 U. S., at 568–569. Instead, the Court explained, an unconditional guilty plea admits “all of the factual
and legal elements necessary to sustain a binding, final judgment of guilt and a lawful sentence.”
Id., at 569 (emphasis added). “By entering a plea of guilty, the accused is not simply stating that he did the discrete acts described in the indictment; he is admitting guilt of a substantive crime.”
Id., at 570. Such “admissions,”
Broce continued, are “necessarily made upon entry of a voluntary plea of guilty.”
Id., at 573–574. And invoking
Tollett,
the Court added that it makes no difference whether the defendant “ ‘may not have correctly appraised the constitutional significance of certain historical facts.’ ” 488 U. S., at 572 (quoting 411 U. S., at 267). Thus, the Court concluded, a defendant’s decision to plead guilty necessarily extinguishes whatever “potential defense[s]” he might have asserted in an effort to show that it would be unlawful to hold him liable for his conduct. 488 U. S., at 573. So much for
Menna.
As for
Blackledge, by holding that the defendants’ double jeopardy rights were extinguished by their pleas,
Broce necessarily rejected the idea that a right not to be tried survives an unconditional guilty plea. See
Abney, 431 U. S., at 662 (holding for collateral-order-doctrine purposes that the Double Jeopardy Clause confers a right not to be tried).
While
Broce thus rejected the reasoning in
Blackledge and
Menna, the Court was content to distinguish those cases on the ground that they involved defendants who could succeed on appeal without going beyond “the existing record,” whereas the defendants in
Broce would have to present new evidence.
Broce,
supra, at 575.[
4]
IV
A
This is where the
Menna-Blackledge doctrine stood when we heard this case. Now, instead of clarifying the law, the Court sows new confusion by reiterating with seeming approval a string of catchphrases. The Court repeats the line that an argument survives if it “implicates ‘the very power of the State’ to prosecute the defendant,”
ante, at 4 (quoting
Blackledge, 417 U. S., at 30), but this shibboleth is no more intelligible now than it was when first incanted in
Blackledge. The Court also parrots the rule set out in the
Menna footnote—that the only arguments waived by a guilty plea are those that contradict the facts alleged in the charging document, see
ante, at 5–6, even though that rule is inconsistent with
Tollett, the
Brady trilogy, and
Broce—and even though this reading would permit a defendant who pleads guilty to raise an uncertain assortment of claims never before thought to survive a guilty plea.
For example, would this rule permit a defendant to argue that his prosecution is barred by a statute of limitations or by the Speedy Trial Act? Presumably the answer is yes. By admitting commission of the acts alleged in an indictment or complaint, a defendant would not concede that the charge was timely. What about the argument that a defendant’s alleged conduct does not violate the statute of conviction? Here again, the rule barring only those claims inconsistent with the facts alleged in the indictment or complaint would appear to permit the issue to be raised on appeal, but the Court says that a defendant who pleads guilty “has admitted the charges against him.”
Ante, at 7. What does this mean, exactly? The majority is coy, but “admit[ing] the charges against him” would appear to mean admitting that his conduct satisfies each element of the statute he is charged with violating. It must mean that because we have held that if a defendant does
not understand that he is admitting his conduct satisfies each element of the crime, his guilty plea is involuntary and unintelligent and therefore invalid.
Henderson v.
Morgan,
426 U. S. 637, 644–645 (1976). So if a defendant who pleads guilty “admit[s] the charges against him,” and if he does not claim that his plea was involuntary or unintelligent, his plea must be taken as an admission that he did everything the statute forbids.
But if that is so, then what about the rule suggested by the old Massachusetts opinion the Court touts? There, Justice Ames wrote that a guilty plea does not waive the right to argue that “ ‘the facts alleged and admitted do not constitute a crime against the laws of the Commonwealth.’ ”
Ante, at 5 (quoting
Commonwealth v.
Hinds, 101 Mass. 209, 210 (1869)). Does the Court agree with Justice Ames, or not?
Approaching the question from the opposite direction, the Court says that a guilty plea precludes a defendant from litigating “the constitutionality of case-related government conduct that takes place before the plea is entered.”
Ante, at 8. This category is most mysterious. I thought Class was arguing that the Government violated the Constitution at the moment when it initiated his prosecution. That sounds like he is trying to attack “the constitutionality of case-related government conduct that [took] place before the plea [was] entered.” Yet the Court holds that he may proceed. Why?
Finally, the majority instructs that “a valid guilty plea relinquishes any claim that would contradict the ‘admissions necessarily made upon entry of a voluntary plea of guilty.’ ”
Ibid. (quoting
Broce, 488 U. S., at 573–574). I agree with that statement of the rule, but what the Court fails to acknowledge is that the scope of this rule depends on the law of the particular jurisdiction in question. If a defendant in federal court is told that under Rule 11 an unconditional guilty plea waives all nonjurisdictional claims (or as
Broce put it, admits “all of the factual and legal elements necessary to sustain a binding, final judgment of guilt and a lawful sentence,”
id., at 569), then that is the scope of the admissions implicit in the plea.
B
Perhaps sensing the incoherence of its effort, the majority seeks refuge in history, asserting that today’s holding “flows directly from this Court’s prior decisions.”
Ante, at 3. But this history cannot prop up the Court’s decision. Start with
Haynes v.
United States,
390 U. S. 85, 87, n. 2 (1968), in which the Court reached the merits of a defendant’s constitutional challenge to his conviction despite the fact that he had pleaded guilty.
Ante, at 3–4. A moment’s glance reveals that this decision is irrelevant for present purposes (which presumably explains why it was not even cited in
Blackledge,
Menna,
Tollett, the
Brady trilogy, or
Broce).
In
Haynes, the Government did not argue that the defendant’s guilty plea barred him from pressing his constitutional challenge on appeal. In fact, the Government conceded that he would be entitled to relief if his argument had merit. 390 U. S., at 100–101. No one has suggested that a defendant’s guilty plea strips an appellate court of jurisdiction to entertain a constitutional challenge to his conviction, so of course a reviewing court need not dismiss an appeal
sua sponte if the Government does not assert the plea as a bar. But that tells us nothing about what ought to happen when, as in this case, the Government
does argue that the defendant relinquished his right to litigate his constitutional argument when he opted to plead guilty.
One must squint even harder to figure out why the majority has dusted off
Commonwealth v.
Hinds, an 1869 decision of the Supreme Judicial Court of Massachusetts.
Ante, at 5.
Hinds involved a state-law motion (“arrest of judgment”) to set aside a conviction for a state-law crime (common law forgery), in a state-court proceeding after the defendant pleaded guilty. 101 Mass., at 210. One might already be wondering what relevance the effect of a guilty plea in state court, under state law, could have with respect to the effect of a guilty plea in federal court, under federal law. But in any event, what
Hinds says about guilty pleas is not helpful to Class at all. In Massachusetts at that time, motions to arrest a judgment could be maintained only on the ground that the court that rendered the judgment lacked jurisdiction. Mass. Gen. Stat. §79 (1860);
Commonwealth v.
Eagan, 103 Mass. 71, 72 (1860); 3 F. Wharton, Criminal Law §3202, p. 177 (7th rev. ed. 1874). And Massachusetts, like all the other States, can define the jurisdiction of its courts as it pleases (except insofar as federal law validly prevents).
Thus, to the extent
Hinds “reflect[s] an understanding of the nature of guilty pleas,”
ante, at 5, it reflects nothing more than the idea that a defendant can assert jurisdictional defects even after pleading guilty. That rule is utterly unremarkable and of no help to Class. Today—as well as at the time of the founding—federal courts have jurisdiction over cases charging federal crimes. See
18 U. S. C. §3231; §9,
1Stat.
76–77. And as early as 1830, the Court rejected the suggestion that a federal court is deprived of jurisdiction if “the indictment charges an offence not punishable criminally according to the law of the land.”
Ex parte Watkins, 3 Pet. 193, 203. We have repeatedly reaffirmed that proposition. See,
e.g., Lamar v.
United States,
240 U. S. 60, 64 (1916) (court not deprived of jurisdiction even if “the indictment does not charge a crime against the United States”);
United States v.
Williams,
341 U. S. 58, 68–69 (1951) (same, even if “the statute is wholly unconstitutional, or . . . the facts stated in the indictment do not constitute a crime”);
Cotton, 535 U. S., at 630–631. And although a handful of our “post–1867 cases” suggested that a criminal court lacked jurisdiction if “the statute under which [the defendant] had been convicted was unconstitutional,” those suggestions “reflected a ‘softening’ of the concept of jurisdiction” rather than that concept’s originally understood—and modern—meaning.
Danforth v.
Minnesota,
552 U. S. 264, 272, n. 6 (2008).
* * *
In sum, the governing law in the present case is Rule 11 of the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure. Under that Rule, an unconditional guilty plea waives all nonjurisdictional claims with the possible exception of the “
Menna-Blackledge doctrine” created years ago by this Court. That doctrine is vacuous, has no sound foundation, and produces nothing but confusion. At a minimum, I would limit the doctrine to the particular types of claims involved in those cases. I certainly would not expand its reach.
I fear that today’s decision will bedevil the lower courts. I respectfully dissent.