“If [lenity] is no longer the presupposition of our law, the Court should say so, and reduce the rule of lenity to an historical curiosity.”
—Holloway v. United States, 526 U.S. 1, 21 (1999) (Scalia, J., dissenting)
INTRODUCTION
The rule of lenity is easy to define but difficult to apply. Simply stated, it is a rule of statutory construction that requires a court to resolve statutory ambiguity in favor of a criminal defendant, or to strictly construe the statute against the state. Scores of courts and commentators have tried to make sense of the rule with little success. As a result, it is difficult, if not impossible, to predict when the rule should apply and—if it does apply—to predict the result of its application. A serious problem is the tension between lenity’s two opposing functions. Lenity purports to support two important constitutional objectives. First, it serves to preserve the separation of governmental powers. As applied, lenity limits the scope of statutory language in penal statutes, because the legislature and not the courts ought to establish the contours of a crime and its punishment. Lenity then serves to protect the legislature’s constitutional lawmaking prerogative and to limit the courts’ encroachment on a legislative function. Second, lenity preserves the constitutional right of fair warning found in due process. The rule ensures that we do not have to guess as to the breadth and meaning of a penal statute, the application of which could seriously impact our life or liberty. Thus, lenity promotes fair notice and helps secure our right to (procedural) due process. But while the United States Supreme Court—the highest court in the land—purports to uphold both constitution-based rationales, it routinely favors one and ignores the other. Thus, judges and commentators have questioned its continued viability.
Beginning in the 1950s, the Court began tipping the lenity scale in favor of the separation of powers function over the fair warning function, thus limiting lenity’s application and frustrating its foundation in due process. The modern application of the rule simply asks whether statutory ambiguity in a criminal statute can be resolved using traditional tools of statutory construction. This test sharply focuses on the separation of powers leg of the lenity ladder, since it asks whether Congress spoke to the issue; and if the Court can resolve the ambiguity—if the Court concludes that Congress has spoken to the issue—then the inquiry ends and Congress’s discovered intent controls. Once ambiguity is resolved, the Court can avoid fair warning on the grounds that the statute is no longer in doubt, and so there is no longer a need for lenity. Since the 1950s, the Court typically reserves the application of lenity to those few cases where it fails after effort to resolve statutory ambiguity. What remains in these cases is a statute that is ultimately ambiguous with lenity reduced to a mere tiebreaker.
The modern application of the rule as applied by the Supreme Court relegates lenity to an afterthought or curiosity. Faced with an obvious statutory ambiguity, the Court endeavors to solve the problem by applying any number of statutory construction canons. After Congress’s intent is declared, the Court cites lenity and its goal of protecting the separation of powers—a makeweight. Further confusing the issue is the Court’s reluctance to decide just when a criminal statute is ambiguous enough to trigger lenity. Even when the Court concludes—after applying the tools of construction—that a statutory term is ambiguous, the Court may still refuse to apply lenity unless the statutory language in question is ambiguous enough to warrant the rule. In some instances, the Court requires a grievously ambiguous statute. But other times, the Court requires only a sufficiently ambiguous term to trigger lenity; and still other times it requires reasonable doubt to trigger the rule. The result is a confusing, inconsistent, and frustrating jurisprudence that cries for clarity if lenity is to survive.
Lenity is an ancient doctrine that speaks to fair warning and fair play. It is afforded out of fairness to a criminal defendant when she faces the possibility of conviction and sentencing under a statute that is less than clear. Minimizing the due process function of lenity and failing to articulate just when lenity applies not only harms the Court’s credibility, but does violence to our deeply-held notions of liberty and fair play.
This Article examines the Supreme Court’s use and abuse of the rule of lenity. It argues that courts ought to weigh both the separation of powers objective and the fair warning objective that define lenity. It also argues that the Court must develop a credible test and a consistent application if it intends to preserve the venerable rule. First, the Article explains briefly the origins of the rule. Then, it describes the Supreme Court’s evolving view of lenity and its function. Next, the Article examines the Court’s modern view of the rule; a view that defers to Congress’s law-making authority—a view that has little to do with leniency. Lastly, the Article argues that the rule of lenity ought to be reconstructed to recover and reclaim the important due process foundation that begat the rule.
I. A SHORT HISTORY OF LENITY
The rule of lenity has its roots in the proclivity of British kings to hang their subjects.1 The rule was conceived by judges in an effort to mitigate the Crown’s liberal and expansive use of the death penalty.2 Sir William Blackstone in his Commentaries on the Laws of England noted that “[i]t is a melancholy truth, that among the variety of actions which men are daily liable to commit, no less than a hundred and sixty have been declared by act of parliament to be felonies . . . to be worthy of instant death.”3 The number of capital felonies swelled to approximately 200 by the end of the seventeenth century, and almost all of them made death the only possible penalty.4
Early on, English jurists sought creative ways to avoid capital punishment.5 One such practice—the “benefit of the clergy” rule—is believed to be the spark for the modern rule of lenity.6 In the thirteenth century, English common law courts developed the benefit of the clergy rule to remove members of the clergy from the reach of criminal laws by reassigning cases to the more benign ecclesiastical courts.7 Since felonious crimes were numerous and punishable by death, the clergy certainly benefited from the court’s generosity.8 As Parliament and the king continued to proliferate capital felonies in the coming centuries, the courts responded by expanding the benefit of the clergy rule to include any citizen who could read.9 The court’s philanthropy saved countless lives as increasing numbers of defendants were shielded from the reach of the death penalty.10 Keenly aware that the courts were frustrating its legislative prerogative to kill the nation’s criminals, Parliament responded by enacting more and more capital felonies, while excluding increasing numbers of felonies from the benefit of the clergy.11 The courts, in response, began strictly construing felonies that were excluded from the benefit of the clergy—thus creating a rule of lenity in the construction of criminal statutes.12 Under the new rule, statutes that imposed the death penalty were construed narrowly to favor the defendant.
The courts in the United States inherited the rule of lenity from the English common law.13 But instead of using the rule to thwart an over-zealous legislature, American jurists adopted the rule to help it advance important constitutional objectives that emerge when Congress enacts criminal statutes.14 In 1817, in United States v. Sheldon, the Supreme Court first suggested that an ambiguity in a criminal statute ought to be strictly construed against the government.15 In Sheldon, the Court considered whether the statutory term “transport” included driving oxen on foot into Canada.16 Concluding that the term is limited to carrying or conveying articles, the Sheldon Court could find “no good reason for construing a penal law by equity, so as to extend it to cases not within the correct and ordinary meaning of the expressions of the law . . . .”17 While the Sheldon Court did not explain why a penal statute ought to be narrowly construed, its construction of the term suggests that the Court was sensitive to the danger of judicially-created statutory breadth—an idea the Court would soon take up in earnest.18
In 1820, in United States v. Wiltberger, Chief Justice John Marshall first articulated the “well known rule that . . . a penal statute . . . is to be construed strictly.”19 The Wiltberger Court considered whether the phrase “high seas” in a manslaughter statute included a river in the interior of China.20 Concluding that it did not, the Court announced a dual purpose of lenity that departed from its British roots but survives in form, if not in substance, to this day.21 The Court explained that the rule of lenity “is founded on the tenderness of the law for the rights of individuals; and on the plain principle that the power of punishment is vested in the legislative, not the judicial department.”22 Thus, the Wiltberger Court decreed that lenity both protects our individual right to fair warning and guards against judicial encroachment of Congress’s rulemaking authority.23
The Wiltberger Court seemed particularly wary of upsetting the careful distribution of powers articulated in the United States Constitution.24 The Court cautioned against defeating “the obvious intention of the legislature” in its construction of an ambiguous penal statute.25 The Court warned that “[i]t is the legislature, not the Court, which is to define a crime, and ordain its punishment.”26 The rule of lenity, then, serves in part to protect the legislature’s exclusive law-making powers by discouraging courts from interpreting penal statutes broader than Congress intended. Since the rule of lenity is a narrowing canon—a rule of strict construction—it works to avoid judicial overreaching and to preserve the legislature’s law-making authority.
Wiltberger also, but with less enthusiasm, addressed the other purpose of lenity—the law’s “tenderness . . . for the rights of individuals.”27 The Court suggested that a crime committed on a river in the interior of a country could not be considered a crime on the high seas without upsetting settled linguistic expectations.28 The Court had little reason to describe more fully this aspect of lenity, because it concluded that the phrase “high seas” was not ambiguous.29 Thus, lenity did not apply. The Court did note, however, that statutory terms ought to “be taken according to the common understanding of mankind . . . in their popular and received sense.”30
A little over a century after Wiltberger, the Court more fully explained the second object of lenity: to protect a defendant’s “common understanding” of statutory language. In Connally v. General Construction Company, the Supreme Court considered whether the language in a state wage and hour statute violated due process.31 The Court concluded that the statutory language was impossibly vague and upheld an order from the district court enjoining the state of Oklahoma from enforcing the vague provisions.32 The Court explained that:
the terms of a penal statute creating a new offense must be sufficiently explicit to inform those who are subject to what conduct on their part will render them liable to its penalties is a well-recognized requirement, consonant with ordinary notions of fair play and the settled rules of law; and a statute which either forbids or requires the doing of an act in terms so vague that men of common intelligence must necessarily guess at its meaning and differ as to its application violates the first essential of due process of law.33
The Connally Court recognized that it is sometimes difficult to pinpoint exactly when statutory language becomes so uncertain that it must fail.34 But the Court proffered that statutory words or phrases ought to be “well enough known to enable those within their reach to correctly apply them.”35 The Court warned that “[t]he dividing line between what is lawful and unlawful cannot be left to conjecture . . . . The crime . . . must be so clearly expressed that the ordinary person can intelligently choose, in advance, what course it is lawful for him to pursue.”36
While Connally concerned the degree to which statutory vagueness rises to a due process violation, Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes, in McBoyle v. United States, applied a Connally-like standard to a case with closer lenity bona fides.37 The McBoyle Court decided whether an airplane is a vehicle under the National Motor Vehicle Theft Act.38 The Court applied lenity—if not in name then in spirit—and narrowly construed the ambiguous statutory language to preclude a definition of “motor vehicle” that includes airplanes.39 Writing for the Court, Justice Holmes concluded that the statutory ambiguity demanded a strict construction. He explained that “it is reasonable that a fair warning should be given to the world in language that the common world will understand.”40 “To make the warning fair,” the Court continued, “so far as possible the line [in the statute] should be clear.”41
McBoyle’s holding also promoted lenity’s separation of powers function first articulated in Wiltberger.42 Justice Holmes in McBoyle warned that statutory language should not be broadened “simply because it may seem to us that a similar policy applies, or upon the speculation that if the legislature had thought of it, very likely broader words would have been used.”43 Congress, Holmes cautioned, and not the courts ought to determine the breadth and reach of statutory language.
A few years later, in 1939, the United States Supreme Court reaffirmed the importance of fair warning and fair play in penal statutes.44 In Lanzetta v. New Jersey, the Court considered whether uncertainty in a New Jersey criminal statute violated a defendant’s due process rights.45 Reversing the defendant’s conviction, the Court explained that “[n]o one may be required at peril of life, liberty or property to speculate as to the meaning of penal statutes. All are entitled to be informed as to what the State commands or forbids.”46 The Court explained that the indefiniteness of the statutory terms “gang” and “gangster” raised serious doubt about the legislature’s intent, and thus the terms were sufficiently ambiguous to warrant leniency.47 Uncertainty in penal statutes, the Court confirmed, is repugnant to due process.48
When the Wiltberger Court in 1820 approved of the rule of strict construction of penal statutes, the Court introduced the dual function of lenity: to safeguard the separation of governmental powers and to promote fair warning to secure due process under the law.49 Both goals were co-equal, important, and saturated in constitutional significance. Under Wiltberger and its early progeny, once the Court determines that a term or phrase in a penal statute is ambiguous, the Constitution requires a strict construction of the offending language. Despite the significance of both goals, the Supreme Court began in the 1950s to favor one over the other, weakening the rule’s function and heralding its decline.
II. THE MODERN APPROACH
A. Universal C.I.T. and the Decline of Lenity
The modern approach to lenity began in 1952, when the Supreme Court decided United States v. Universal C.I.T. Credit Corp.50 The case required the Court to determine the unit of prosecution in the criminal provisions of the Fair Labor Standards Act.51 The relevant criminal provisions of the Act related to wage, overtime, and record-keeping practices.52 The government charged the defendant corporation with a total of thirty-two violations of the statute, counting a new violation for each week the defendant continued to violate the Act.53 The district court dismissed most of the charges and consolidated the remaining charges in the indictment, concluding that Congress intended to punish an employer’s illegal course of conduct and not punish each breach.54
Justice Felix Frankfurter, writing for the majority, admitted that the construction of the Act is “not easy of solution” and “cannot be answered merely by a literal reading of the penalizing sections.”55 A few paragraphs later, Justice Frankfurter noted that the Court ought to choose the less harsh alternative—lenity—when faced with a choice between two readings.56 And, in fact, the Court did affirm the district court and did avoid the government’s harsh reading of the statute.57 The Court did apply lenity. But, Justice Frankfurter in his opinion opened a door that would allow later courts to defeat the due process protections at the core of the rule.58
Explaining how to resolve statutory ambiguity, Justice Frankfurter wrote that the Court “may utilize, in construing a statute not unambiguous, all the light relevantly shed upon the words and the clause and the statute that express the purpose of Congress.”59 For support of this notion, Justice Frankfurter reached back to Chief Justice John Marshall’s opinion in United States v. Fisher.60 In Fisher—a case that had nothing at all to do with lenity, fair warning, or due process—Justice Marshall considered whether parsing the title of a statute is fair game when construing language in the body of a statute.61 Marshall wrote “[w]here the mind labours to discover the design of the legislature, it seizes every thing from which aid can be derived; and in such case the title claims a degree of notice, and will have its due share of consideration.”62 Justice Marshall opined that the title of a statute—among other tools of construction—is fair game when a court is searching for meaning in an ambiguous statute.
Unfortunately, Justice Frankfurter, writing 147 years after Fisher, both misquoted Marshall’s opinion and misconstrued his point. In Universal C.I.T., Justice Frankfurter directs courts to use “all the light relevantly shed upon the words . . . that express the purpose of Congress.”63 Here, Frankfurter directs courts to use whatever tool is available to glean the intent of Congress to resolve statutory ambiguity to avoid applying lenity.64 To support this idea, Justice Frankfurter quotes Fisher for the proposition that a court ought to “seize[] every thing from which aid can be derived” to resolve ambiguous statutory doubt.65 Fisher offered broad guidance on resolving ambiguous statutory language; Universal C.I.T. tied that broad guidance to lenity.66 Marshall’s original language suggests only that the use of titles is helpful to a court trying to resolve statutory ambiguity;67 it was not intended to serve as a test to trigger lenity. Frankfurter now proposes that a court ought to “seize[] every thing from which aid can be derived” before declaring hazy statutory language ambiguous enough to warrant lenity.68
Lenity, however, serves two important goals: it preserves the separation of powers expressed in the structural components of the United States Constitution, and it safeguards notions of fair play and fair warning found in due process. When it first announced the rule of strict construction of penal statutes in United States v. Wiltberger, the Supreme Court considered both goals compelling and co-equal.69 In 1952, Universal C.I.T.reaffirmed the rule and its dual goals, but Frankfurter helped turn lenity into judicial sport when he offered a test for ambiguity that begged its own question. Frankfurter asks courts to “seize[] every thing from which aid can be derived” when faced with ambiguous statutory language.70 The “every thing” in the quote speaks to the canons of statutory construction, including legislative history.71 After applying the canons of construction, however, a court will usually solve the ambiguity. When a court solves a statutory ambiguity, it determines which meaning Congress intended when it drafted the offending language. Justice Frankfurter’s test in Universal C.I.T.is very good at preventing judicial usurping of legislative powers—and thus preserving the separation of powers—because its focus is on Congress’s intent. A court resolves statutory ambiguity by applying canons of construction to glean the intent of Congress, allowing it to declare the language unambiguous. Once the language is clarified, it is no longer ambiguous. Without ambiguity, there is no lenity.72 The fallacy of Frankfurter’s test is that it purports to support leniency, but in fact it allows a court to avoid it.
B. The Rule of Lenity After Universal C.I.T.
Universal C.I.T. begat a slow march that purged due process and fair warning from the lenity equation.73 Universal C.I.T.’s recasting of lenity survived the Warren, Burger, and Rehnquist Courts and endures into the Roberts Court.74 The once venerable doctrine is now no more than a tie-breaker at best; a throwaway doctrine at worst.75 The United States Supreme Court may cite lenity—if at all—at the end of the analysis simply to rebut its application.76 Lenity, it seems, has been relegated to the purgatory of dissenting opinions.77
Two years after its Universal C.I.T. opinion, the Supreme Court decided United States v. Harriss.78 In Harriss, the Court considered whether parts of the Federal Regulation of Lobbying Act violated due process and its requirement of definiteness.79 The Court applied a number of construction canons to conclude that Congress intended a narrow scope to the Act.80 To its credit, the Harriss Court did write that “[t]he constitutional requirement of definiteness is violated by a criminal statute that fails to give a person of ordinary intelligence fair notice that his contemplated conduct is forbidden by the statute.”81 The Court, however, then stated “[o]n the other hand . . . if this [statute] can be made definite by a reasonable construction of the statute, this Court is under a duty to give the statute that construction.”82 Like Universal C.I.T., the Harriss Court appears to command courts to favor a test that preserves Congress’s law-making authority over a defendant’s right to a fair warning. And, like Universal C.I.T., if a court resolves statutory ambiguity using the canons of construction, it has no need to consider the larger due process problem of indefiniteness.
A year after Harriss, the Court decided Bell v. United States.83 Bell is noteworthy for two main reasons. First, it is the first instance where the Court uses the term “lenity.”84 Second, the case offers Justice Frankfurter an opportunity to chew on a true ambiguity—a statutory term that cannot be resolved using the canons of statutory construction.85 In Bell, the Court was asked to determine the unit of prosecution in the Mann Act—a federal statute that prohibited the interstate transportation of women for “immoral purpose[s]”—when a defendant transported two women in the same car on the same trip across state lines.86 Justice Frankfurter explained that “[w]hen Congress leaves to the Judiciary the task of imputing to Congress an undeclared will, the ambiguity should be resolved in favor of lenity. . . . [I]f Congress does not fix the punishment for a federal offense clearly and without ambiguity,” Frankfurter continues, “doubt will be resolved [in favor of the defendant], when we have no more to go on than the present case furnishes.”87 Justice Frankfurter’s nod to leniency is not due to “any sentimental consideration” or his disagreement with the Mann Act, but his frustration with Congress’s failure to clarify its intent.88 Bell confirms that when Congress declares its will, even when its will is declared by a court, there is no room left for due process and fair warning.
Justice Frankfurter invoked lenity a few years later in United States v. Turley to chastise Congress for its careless drafting of the National Motor Vehicle Theft Act.89 Writing in dissent, Frankfurter disagreed with the Court’s broadening of a statutory term using what he called “pedantically exacting” construction.90 While Justice Frankfurter offers a small nod to lenity, his beef is with Congress.91 A narrow construction of a penal statute is preferred, Justice Frankfurter suggests, not to protect a defendant’s right to fair notice, but to prevent a court from usurping legislative powers by giving a statute unintended breadth.92
If ambiguity is the touchstone of lenity but the Court refuses to find a statute ambiguous, then lenity is indeed relegated to nothing more than judicial sport. In United States v. Shirey, Justice Frankfurter admits that the language in a federal anti-corruption statute is awkward but clarifies that “[a]wkwardness is not ambiguity.”93 The dissent, however, is convinced that the statute is indeed “highly ambiguous” and ought to be strictly construed.94 Justice Frankfurter insists that the statutory language, legislative history, and congressional purpose of the statute “coalesce” against the application of lenity.95 Justice Frankfurter offers a test for ambiguity that continues to render lenity obsolete. “Statutes,” he writes, “including penal enactments, are not inert exercises in literary composition. They are instruments of government, and in construing them ‘the general purpose is a more important aid to the meaning than any rule which grammar or formal logic may lay down.’”96 Frankfurter offers that “[s]tatutory meaning . . . is more to be felt than demonstrated.”97
In 1961, Justice Frankfurter continued his attack on lenity, writing for the majority in Callanan v. United States.98 In Callanan, the petitioner argued that a part of the Hobbs Act—an anti-racketeering statute—was ambiguous and invoked the rule of lenity.99 He was convicted and sentenced for two violations under the Act: one for obstructing interstate commerce and one for conspiring to obstruct interstate commerce.100 The petitioner contended that Congress did not intend to punish separately both the substantive offense and a conspiracy to commit the substantive offense.101 Frankfurter disagreed.102 The Court, in a five-to-four, split cited a “consistently recognized” maxim that conspiracies do not merge with substantive offenses.103 The majority concluded that the relevant portion of the Hobbs Act was not ambiguous and thus lenity was not applicable.104 Affirming the lower courts, Justice Frankfurter then proceeded to diminish the rule of lenity and its respect for fair play.105 Justice Frankfurter writes that “[t]he rule [of lenity] comes into operation at the end of the process of construing what Congress has expressed, not at the beginning as an overriding consideration of being lenient to wrongdoers.”106 In Callanan, the Court effectively relegated lenity—an important safeguard for due process rights—to a rule of last resort. While Justice Frankfurter’s analysis alludes to both the separation of powers and due process principles supporting lenity, the former subsumes the latter. According to Frankfurter, a court is required to resolve statutory ambiguity to discover Congress’s un-enacted intent, thus ensuring that Congress, and not the courts, makes law. If a court is able to glean the intent of the legislature—as it did in Callanan—then a statute is no longer ambiguous and lenity cannot apply. Only if a court is unable to glean the intent of the legislature may it declare a statute ambiguous and construe the ambiguity against the state, thus protecting due process rights. In effect, a tie goes to the defendant, but only after the court tries but fails to resolve the ambiguity.107 For Justice Frankfurter and the Callanan court, so long as a court—well-practiced and experienced in resolving complex statutory questions—can resolve a statutory question, it does not matter whether the statute is clear to the criminal defendant.
Justice Frankfurter noted in Callanan that the rule of lenity “only serves as an aid for resolving an ambiguity; it is not to be used to beget one.”108 According to Frankfurter, a facially ambiguous criminal statute only will trigger leniency when a court is unable to glean the intent of Congress. Thus, a defendant is owed fair warning of an equivocal criminal statute only when a court declares that a statute suffers from ultimate ambiguity: when a court tries but fails to resolve the statutory question.109 Justice Frankfurter warns against using lenity as an “overriding consideration of being lenient to wrongdoers.”110 But by heeding his own warning, Frankfurter relegates fair warning to an afterthought, thereby punishing the defendant for the legislature’s mistakes.111
Despite Callanan’s narrowing of the lenity doctrine, Justice William Brennan, in Bouie v. City of Columbia, attempted to reassert the importance of fair warning when the Court reversed the petitioners’ convictions under a South Carolina trespass law.112 But instead of applying lenity to an ambiguous criminal statute, Justice Brennan focused on the fair warning requirements of the Due Process Clause and concluded that the statute, as interpreted by the South Carolina Supreme Court, violated the petitioners’ constitutional rights.113 To be sure, a Due Process Clause violation and the rule of lenity do overlap with respect to fair notice, but the overlap makes sense. The doctrine of lenity is supported in significant part by the idea that a court ought to construe strictly a vague or ambiguous criminal statute to protect a defendant’s due process rights to fair notice.114 The Due Process Clause violation is grounded in the idea that a vague criminal statute (or an overly broad judicial construction of a criminal statute) fails to provide fair warning and thus violates the U.S. Constitution.115 In Bouie, Justice Brennan concludes that the statute itself was not ambiguous and thus presumably he had no need to construe it.116 So, lenity—a rule of statutory construction—was not in play. Nevertheless, by relying on the Due Process Clause, Justice Brennan reasserted that fair warning and fair notice in criminal statutes are protected by the U.S. Constitution. As such, when a criminal statute is ambiguous or vague, the fair warning protections supported by the rule of lenity are fundamental. The Supreme Court, in United States v. Campos-Serrano, again attempted to resuscitate lenity by reconciling Justice Frankfurter’s narrow focus on Congress’s intent and Justice Brennan’s expansive view of fair warning.117 In Campos-Serrano, Justice Stewart, writing for the majority, considered sua sponte whether a resident alien’s counterfeit re-entry registration receipt card is prohibited under 18 U.S.C. § 1546.118 The federal statute prohibits a person from using a forged document that is required to enter into the United States.119 Here, the respondent allegedly used a counterfeit document to re-enter the country.120 Concluding that the statute is limited to documents required for entry, Justice Stewart reaffirmed that “penal statutes are to be construed strictly.”121 The Court then suggested an approach to reconcile the competing purposes of lenity. The Court opined that “[w]hen choice has to be made between two readings of what conduct Congress has made a crime, it is appropriate, before we choose the harsher alternative, to require that Congress should have spoken in language that is clear and definite.”122 The Court continued that the canon of lenity “does not mean that every criminal statute must be given the narrowest possible meaning in complete disregard of the purpose of the legislature.”123 Taken together, Justice Stewart suggests that when applying lenity a court ought to weigh due process concerns while deferring to Congress’s constitutional authority to make law. To protect due process rights, the rule of lenity requires a strict construction of an ambiguous criminal statute—not the strictest construction available—that still furthers Congress’s purpose in enacting the law.
C. The Rise of Ultimate Ambiguity
Unfortunately, the United States Supreme Court chose not to embrace Justice Stewart’s efforts to rebalance the rule of lenity. Instead, the Court continued to prefer a test for lenity that undermined a criminal defendant’s right to fair warning. Under this test, a court applies lenity only after it tries but fails to resolve a statutory ambiguity in a criminal statute. Here, if a court can resolve a statutory ambiguity by divining the intent of Congress, and thus preserve the separation powers, it should do so even if the resolution is unknowable, recondite, and unfair to the criminal defendant.
In 1971, the Court decided United States v. Bass.124 The Bass Court considered whether a criminal defendant was wrongfully convicted under section 1202(a) of Title VII of the Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Streets Act of 1968.125 The statute states that a felon “who receives, possesses, or transports in commerce or affecting commerce . . . any firearm” violates the statute.126 At trial, evidence established that the defendant was a felon who possessed guns, but the government made no showing of whether the defendant possessed (received, or transported) the guns “in commerce or affecting commerce.”127 The defendant appealed his conviction, arguing that the statute only prohibited a possession of a firearm “in commerce or affecting commerce” and therefore Congress overstepped its authority when it enacted the statute.128 The Court of Appeals agreed with the defendant and reversed his conviction on constitutional grounds.129 On appeal, the Supreme Court affirmed the Court of Appeals but on different grounds.130 The Court concluded that the statute was ultimately ambiguous and thus lenity demanded a reading favorable to the defendant.131
Justice Marshall, writing for the majority in Bass, concluded that Congress did not speak in clear and definite terms when it enacted section 1202(a).132 Justice Marshall determined that the statutory ambiguity persisted, but only after the Court endeavored to resolve it.133 And so “[a]fter ‘seizing every thing from which aid can be derived’ [the Court was] left with an ambiguous statute,” and thus lenity applied.134 While the Court spoke importantly about the two founding principles that support lenity—fair warning and the separation of powers—the Court’s holding confirmed that it had its thumb firmly on the separation of powers scale.135 The rule of lenity and its promise to protect fair warning only come into play after a court tries but fails to resolve statutory ambiguity and thus cannot defer to Congress’s intent. But by insisting on ultimate ambiguity before considering lenity, the Court continues to reduce fair warning to an afterthought. After Bass, the Court continued to insist on ultimate ambiguity to trigger the rule of lenity. In fact, after Bass, the Court raised the bar even higher. In Huddleston v. United States, the Court considered whether a pawnbroker is a licensed gun dealer under 18 U.S.C. § 922(a)(6).136
In 1971, Huddleston pawned three firearms to a California pawnbroker.137 In February and March of 1972, Huddleston returned to the pawnbroker to redeem the weapons upon payment of the original loan term and to complete a Firearms Transactions Record.138 The transaction record is mandated by 18 U.S.C. § 922(a)(6), and requires one who purchases a firearm to answer a series of questions.139 One question asks whether the purchaser was “convicted in any court of a crime punishable . . . for a term exceeding one year.”140 Section 922(a)(6) makes it unlawful for a person “in connection with the acquisition . . . of any firearm . . . from a . . . licensed dealer . . . knowingly to make any false or fictitious oral or written statement . . . intended or likely to deceive such . . . dealer.”141 Unfortunately, Huddleston lied on the transaction record and was later convicted in a three-count indictment for violating § 922.142 On appeal, Huddleston argued that the statute did not apply to the redemption of a pawned firearm, since he did not acquire the firearm but reacquired it.143 Huddleston argued in part that § 922(a)(6) was ambiguous and thus the statute ought to be strictly construed in his favor.144
Justice Harry Blackmun, writing for the majority, disagreed.145 Analyzing the language and structure of the statute and its legislative history, the majority concluded that Huddleston’s asserted ambiguity was contrived; the word acquisition includes reacquisition.146 Confirming Congress’s intent, the Court explained that “[it is] not at liberty to tamper with the obvious reach of the statute in proscribing the conduct in which the petitioner engaged.”147 The statutory language was simply not ambiguous enough.
Citing Bass, the Huddleston Court restated the rule of lenity—ambiguity in criminal statutes ought to be resolved in favor of the defendant—and the two ideas supporting the doctrine: fair warning and separation of powers.148 But the Court warned that “[z]eal in forwarding these laudable policies . . . must not be permitted to shadow the understanding that ‘sound rules of statutory interpretation exist to discover and not to direct the Congressional will.’”149 Reaffirming an idea first proffered by Justice Frankfurter in Universal C.I.T., the Huddleston Court explained that muddy statutory language can be resolved using the tools of statutory construction and, once resolved, are outside the ambit of lenity.150 Deference to Congress’s constitutional authority to make law trumped lenity’s concern for individual rights.
On its own, Huddleston does no more than echo the Court’s preference for Congress’s law-making rights over individual rights when it considers assertions of ambiguity in criminal statutes. Later opinions unfortunately have perverted Huddleston to further relegate lenity to a historical afterthought. For example, in Chapman v. United States, decided seventeen years after Huddleston, the Supreme Court considered whether, under 21 U.S.C. § 841(b)(1)(B)(v), a court should count blotter paper when determining whether a person distributes “1 gram or more of a mixture or substance containing . . . (LSD).”151 The petitioner was convicted and sentenced under the statute after the trial court included the blotter paper in its weight calculation.152 On appeal, the petitioner argued that the statutory phrase “mixture or substance” is ambiguous and thus lenity ought to apply.153 The Supreme Court disagreed and used the language and structure of the statute and its legislative history to conclude the statute was not ambiguous.154
Responding to the petitioner’s lenity argument, the Court offered a tortured and misleading explanation of lenity: “[t]he rule of lenity . . . is not applicable unless there is a ‘grievous ambiguity or uncertainty in the language and structure of the Act,’ such that even after a court has ‘seized every thing from which aid can be derived,’ it is still ‘left with an ambiguous statute.’”155 According to Chapman, the trigger for lenity is now hopelessly unattainable.156 In a judicial maze of authority, the Chapman Court cites to Bass quoting Fisher for the “seize[] every thing from which aid can be derived” phrase.157 As explained earlier, the Bass Court had distorted Fisher when it applied Fisher to the lenity argument before it. Fisher had nothing to do with lenity, fair warning, or due process.158 The Fisher Court merely said titles are fair game and that in the abstract a court may seize everything from which aid can be derived to glean the intent of Congress; Fisher neither intended to require ultimate ambiguity nor did it intend to convert lenity to a last resort canon.159 Chapman continued to weaken lenity by validating a twenty-year-old mistake first made in Bass. But, the Chapman Court took it one step further when it distorted Huddleston to require a grievous ambiguity to trigger lenity.160
Justice Rehnquist, writing for the majority in Chapman, cited Huddleston when he wrote that lenity is not applicable unless there is “grievous ambiguity or uncertainty in the language and structure of the Act.”161 In the context and structure of the Huddleston opinion, the Court was not offering a new rule to test for lenity, but, instead, was concluding that the specific statute in question in that case was not ambiguous. The Court used the word “grievous” when it applied lenity to the facts of the case; it did not purport to offer a new trigger for lenity or change the rule of lenity.162
The Chapman Court accidently announced a new and stricter rule of lenity derived from a curious and distorted reading of Bass, Fisher, and Huddleston. After Chapman, a court may conclude that lenity only applies when a statute remains seriously ambiguous after the court is patently unable to resolve the statutory question.163 While this new rule may protect the separation of powers between Congress and the courts, the bar for ambiguity may now be so high that lenity is nearly useless to protect individual rights. The problem is exacerbated when a court relies on a statute’s legislative history to resolve a facially ambiguous statute.
Post-Chapman, the Supreme Court routinely uses legislative history—and other canons—to avoid lenity, despite ambiguity in criminal statutes. For example, in Simpson v. United States, the Court considered whether the defendants could be sentenced for one crime using two statutes.164 The defendants argued that the two statutes merged for the purposes of sentencing,165 and that the statutory question ought to be resolved in favor of lenity.166 Although the Court ultimately agreed with the defendants as a matter of law, it declined to apply lenity.167 Instead, the Simpson Court used the “sparse” legislative history of 18 U.S.C. § 924(c) to resolve the ambiguity.168 In 1980, in Bifulco v. United States, the Court determined whether a federal conspiracy statute that limits the punishment for conspiracy to “imprisonment or fine or both” allows a sentencing court to impose a special parole term when the substantive statute allows it.169 The Bifulco Court looked at the applicable statute and its “scant” legislative history and concluded that Congress did not include parole in the available penalties for the conspiracy statute.170 After resolving the statutory question in favor of the defendant, the Court adds, “[o]f course, to the extent that doubts remain, they must be resolved in accord with the rule of lenity.”171 But, the Court’s gratuitous nod to lenity came after the Court already resolved the question, which happened to favor the defendant. In United States v. Turkette, the Court resolved an ambiguity in the RICO statute using, in part, its legislative history by noting “[w]e find no occasion to apply the rule of lenity to this statute” because it “only serves as an aid for resolving an ambiguity . . . at the end of the process of construing what Congress has expressed . . . .”172
A few years after Turkette, the Court considered another statutory ambiguity that could have triggered lenity but did not.173 In Dixson v. United States, the Court considered whether officers in a private, not-for-profit corporation are “public officials” as defined by the federal bribery statute, 18 U.S.C. § 201(a).174 The Court admitted that “[a]s is often the case in matters of statutory interpretation, the language of [the statute] does not decide the dispute. The words can be interpreted to support either the petitioners’ or the government’s reading. We must turn, therefore, to the legislative history of the federal bribery statute” to clarify Congress’s intent.175 The Dixson Court continued, “[i]f the legislative history fails to clarify the statutory language, our rule of lenity would compel us to construe the statute in favor of . . . criminal defendants . . . .”176 But once again, legislative history did clarify the statutory ambiguity, allowing the Court to avoid lenity or any pretense of respecting a criminal defendant’s due process right to fair warning.177
Legislative history is the tail wagging lenity’s dog. If the rule of lenity upholds the notion that we are entitled to know in advance if our acts are criminal, then requiring us to know a statute’s history to extract indicia of Congress’s intent from it gravely distorts the function and purpose of the rule.
The Supreme Court has repeatedly suggested that “the touchstone of [lenity] is statutory ambiguity.”178 But ambiguity is in the eyes of the beholder, particularly for the Court when it considers lenity.179 Since the 1950s, the Court has looked for ultimate and grievous ambiguity before it considers resolving statutory doubt in favor of a defendant. Universal C.I.T. and its progeny succeeded in reducing the rule of lenity to a makeweight, at least that part of lenity that insists on fair warning.180 The problem is the tension between lenity’s two opposing functions: lenity purports to defend Congress’s authority to determine crime and penalty, but it also protects our fundamental due process right to know clearly the meaning and scope of crime and penalty. But when a court is asked to resolve ambiguous statutory language by “seiz[ing] every thing from which aid can be derived,”181 the court is favoring the separation of powers objective to the detriment of its due process objective. Insisting on ultimate ambiguity before applying lenity frustrates a founding principle of lenity.
D. The Pull of Lenity
Recognizing the degradation of the rule of lenity, some justices on the United States Supreme Court have attempted to right the ship—without any real success. In 1984, in Dixson v. United States, Justice Sandra Day O’Connor objected to the majority’s reliance on “weak” evidence of congressional intent to resolve ambiguous language in a federal bribery statute.182 Justice O’Connor writes that “[t]he conclusion [reached by the Court] finds as little support in the cases cited by the Court as it does in the statutory language or legislative history.”183 Justice O’Connor explains that the Court failed to provide “reason strong enough to escape the pull of the rule of lenity.”184 In closing, O’Connor writes, “[t]he rule of lenity rests on the notion that people are entitled to know in advance whether an act they contemplate taking violates a particular criminal statute . . . . A criminal statute, after if not before it is judicially construed, should have a discernible meaning.”185 Justice O’Connor notes that lenity requires the Court to adopt a “higher standard” for resolving ambiguous statutory language in criminal statutes, presumably to protect fundamental notions of fair play.186 Unfortunately, O’Connor fails to explain (or provide authority for) this “higher standard,” but one could infer that she objects to resolving facially ambiguous statutory language based on weak interpretative evidence with the effect of avoiding lenity. Justice O’Connor appears to oppose the idea of ultimate ambiguity as the last resort trigger for lenity.
Justice O’Connor’s demand for a “higher standard” for resolving ambiguity in criminal statutes may have resonated with the Court, albeit briefly. One year after Dixson, the Court decided Dowling v. United States.187 In Dowling, the Court was asked to resolve an ambiguity in 18 U.S.C. § 2314, the National Stolen Property Act.188 The narrow question before the Court was whether the statute applies to interstate shipments of unauthorized bootleg recordings.189 The Court begins its analysis by reminding readers that “when choice has to be made between two readings of what conduct Congress has made a crime, it is appropriate, before we choose the harsher alternative, to require that Congress should have spoken in language that is clear and definite.”190 After examining the statutory language, judicial precedent, and the history and purpose of the National Stolen Property Act and related statutes, the Court concluded that Congress did not speak in clear and definite language.191 The Dowling Court wrote that “the language of § 2314 does not ‘plainly and unmistakably’ cover [the petitioner’s] conduct[.]”192 Thus, the Court resolved the conflict in favor of lenity, explaining that “Congress has not spoken with the requisite clarity.”193 Dowling suggests a rebalanced test that would trigger lenity when evidence of legislative intent is thin and statutory doubt raises due process concerns.
Six years after Dowling, the Court filed two opinions, each suggesting a retreat from the hardline Universal C.I.T. approach that favors lenity’s separation of powers function over its due process function. First, in Crandon v. United States, the Court considered the reach of 18 U.S.C. § 209(a), which prohibits the supplementation of a government employee’s salary by outside sources.194 Here, five executives at the Boeing Company were offered positions in the executive branch of the federal government.195 In turn, Boeing made lump sum payments to each employee to mitigate the substantial pay differential between private and public employment and to encourage them to accept the new positions.196 A casual observer might conclude that the payments were made quid pro quo. Thus, the Court was asked to consider whether payments made to a federal employee before the payee accepts the government job violate the statute.197 Of note, instead of discussing lenity at the end of the statutory analysis—usually to explain that a statute at issue is no longer ambiguous and thus lenity doesn’t apply—here the Court leads off its opinion with an explanation of the “time-honored interpretative guideline” of lenity.198
The Crandon Court writes that because the statute is criminal, “it is appropriate to apply the rule of lenity in resolving any ambiguity in the ambit of the statute’s coverage.”199 The Court continues, “[t]o the extent that the language or history of [the statute] is uncertain, [lenity] serves to ensure both that there is fair warning of the boundaries of criminal conduct and that legislatures, not courts, define criminal liability.”200 Although the Fourth Circuit used legislative history to broaden the reach of the statute to include the five Boeing employees, the Supreme Court rejected this analysis, writing “[b]ecause construction of a criminal statute must be guided by the need for fair warning, it is rare that legislative history or statutory policies will support a construction of a statute broader than that clearly warranted by the text.”201 The Crandon Court does a few remarkable things: first, it treats lenity not as an afterthought but as an imperative when resolving doubt in a criminal statute; second, it questions the idea of ultimate ambiguity by refusing to allow legislative history—a traditional tool of statutory construction—to broaden the reach of a criminal statute; and third, it speaks affirmatively to lenity’s important due process function.
Months after Crandon, the Supreme Court decided Hughey v. United States.202 In Hughey, the Court considered whether the Victim and Witness Protection Act, 18 U.S.C. §§ 3579, 3580, allows a court to award restitution for losses related to alleged crimes or only offenses of conviction.203 Holding that the statute limits restitution to offenses of conviction, the Court concluded that “longstanding principles of lenity . . . preclude our resolution of the ambiguity against petitioner on the basis of general declarations of policy in the statute and legislative history.”204 Similar to its decision in Crandon, the Court appears to be recalibrating its position on lenity. But, O’Connor’s “higher standard” idea in Dixson never stuck, and the Court continued to “seize everything from which aid can be derived” to resolve statutory doubt, only applying lenity when faced with “grievous ambiguity.”205 Despite this, a more balanced view of lenity soon found an unlikely champion: Justice Antonin Scalia.
E. Textualism and the Rule of Lenity
Beginning relatively early in his Supreme Court career, Justice Scalia was a vocal advocate for a more aggressive (and defendant-friendly) application of lenity—particularly when the Court stretched to resolve statutory doubt and thus avoid lenity. To be sure, Scalia’s real crusade was textualism and not necessarily fair warning. Justice Scalia posited that enacted “words mean what they conveyed to reasonable people at the time they were written[.]”206 In his book Reading Law: The Interpretation of Legal Texts, Justice Scalia writes, “[t]extualism, in its purest form, begins and ends with what the text says and fairly implies.”207 Purpose, on the other hand, allows a court to consider any evidence of intent—including non-textual evidence—to discover the legislature’s intent when it enacted a law.208 Thus, according to Scalia, statutory ambiguity should be resolved—if at all—by analyzing the language of the law and, if necessary, by applying those interpretative tools that help explain how language is normally used or how textual meaning is normally conveyed.209 Textualism rejects extratextual methods of resolving statutory doubt, such as legislative history, and serves to limit and narrow a court’s focus when it endeavors to interpret ambiguous statutes.210 Thus, Justice Scalia’s hostility towards the Court’s usual (and perfunctory) treatment of lenity is more of an attack on ultimate ambiguity—the Court’s habit of resolving statutory doubt at all costs—rather than a full embrace of the fair warning function of the rule. Nevertheless, his critique of the Court’s application of lenity is substantive and has merit.
One of Justice Scalia’s first opportunities to discuss lenity was in Moskal v. United States.211 In Moskal, the Supreme Court considered the phrase “falsely made,” found in the federal stolen property statute, 18 U.S.C. § 2314.212 The Court concluded that the statute was unambiguous as applied to the petitioner’s conduct, and thus refused to consider lenity.213 In reaching its holding, the Court considered the language of the statute and its purpose as divined from its legislative history to broaden the scope of the federal statute.214 Justice Scalia, writing for the dissent, disagreed.215 He objected to the Court’s use of purpose and history to resolve statutory doubt to broaden the scope of the statute.216 Justice Scalia lamented “[i]f the rule of lenity means anything, it means that the Court ought not do what it does today: use an ill-defined general purpose to override an unquestionably clear term of art . . . .”217 Scalia seems to be suggesting that the Court’s habit of insisting on ultimate ambiguity before applying lenity is misguided. Two years later, Justice Scalia joined in dissent in Evans v. United States.218 Evans required the Court to construe the Hobbs Act, a federal extortion statute, and determine whether the Act requires a defendant to affirmatively act to induce a bribe from another.219 Here, the petitioner—an elected official—passively acted to accept a bribe from an undercover FBI agent in return for his agreement to perform specific official acts.220 After reviewing the common law “tradition” with respect to the elements of extortion, the Court concluded that the Hobbs Act does not require an affirmative act of inducement, thereby broadening the reach of extortion.221 The dissent charged that “[t]he Court’s construction of the Hobbs Act is repugnant . . . to the basic tenets of criminal justice reflected in the rule of lenity . . . .”222 The dissent accused the Court of spurious interpretation to affirm a conviction of a corrupt politician.223 Obviously frustrated by the majority’s tortured resolution of a statute that is less than clear, the dissent asserts that “[b]ecause the Court’s expansive interpretation of the statute is not the only plausible one, the rule of lenity compels adoption of the narrower interpretation.”224 Justice Scalia endorses the dissent’s discomfort with the Court’s broad interpretative license with statutory ambiguity, and its willingness to resist the pull of lenity.
Justice Scalia sharpened his attack in United States v. R.L.C.225 In R.L.C., the Court agreed to resolve a sentencing ambiguity in the Juvenile Delinquency Act, 18 U.S.C. § 5037(c)(1)(B).226 Justice David Souter, writing for the plurality, concluded that the statutory text was ambiguous and thus “turn[ed] to examine the textual evolution of [the statute] and the legislative history that may explain or elucidate it.”227 After an exhaustive review of the statute’s history, Souter reported that “[w]e do not think any ambiguity survives” and declined to apply lenity.228 In support of his conclusion, Justice Souter cited to Moskal and posited “we have always reserved lenity for those situations in which a reasonable doubt persists . . . after resort to ‘the language and structure, legislative history, and motivating policies’ of the statute.”229 While the legislative history of the statute allowed the Court to side with the defendant, Justice Souter confirmed that the Court requires ultimate ambiguity to trigger lenity.230
Writing for the concurrence, Justice Scalia objected strongly to the plurality’s suggestion that legislative history can amend a facially ambiguous criminal statute.231 For Scalia, once the Court concludes a statute is ambiguous—as Souter did here—the more lenient interpretation ought to prevail notwithstanding a statute’s legislative history.232 Scalia argues that using legislative history to resolve statutory doubt “compromises what we have described to be the purposes of the lenity rule.”233
Scalia maintains that the plurality’s approach disserves both the fair warning function and the separation of powers function of lenity.234 Reiterating his textualism mantra, Justice Scalia argues that legislative history is fragmented, precursory, and extralegal; thus, it cannot represent the intent of Congress. Congress only speaks when it enacts law.235 When legislative history is used to resolve statutory doubt, Scalia argues, it damages lenity’s promise to protect vital separation of powers values.236 Justice Scalia also argues that legislative history demeans the vital fair warning function of lenity.237 He concedes that fair warning may be “something of a fiction . . . albeit one required in any system of law; but necessary fiction descends to needless farce when the public is charged even with knowledge of Committee Reports.”238 To expect the public to know that a facially ambiguous criminal statute is unriddled by its legislative history contravenes lenity’s assurance of fair notice. Justice Scalia was likely concerned that a court may one day use extralegal sources to resolve a facially ambiguous statute against a defendant.239
To be sure, Scalia’s central quarrel in R.L.C. and the other cases is textualism, and his main beef is the use of legislative history to confirm (or rebut) ambiguous statutory language. Nevertheless, his point about lenity is valid—for lenity to mean anything, it ought to apply to a facially ambiguous criminal statute at some point before a court tries but fails to resolve it. Seven years after R.L.C., Justice Scalia again wrote in dissent in a case where he disagreed with the Court’s resolution of a statutory issue, and cautioned that if lenity “is no longer the presupposition of our law, the Court should say so, and reduce the rule of lenity to an historical curiosity.”240
F. When is an Ambiguous Statute Ambiguous?
For decades, the United States Supreme Court has been unsympathetic to leniency in cases where it could—with effort—resolve a criminal statute’s ambiguity.241 Instead, the Court has limited lenity to those few situations where a statute remains ultimately ambiguous after it tries but fails to resolve statutory doubt.242 In doing so, the Court favors lenity’s promise to protect a legislature’s role in determining crime and penalty but weakens lenity’s commitment to fair play. If the touchstone for lenity is statutory ambiguity,243 then the real question is “how much ambigu[ity] constitutes . . . ambiguity”?244 The Supreme Court, however, has declined to articulate an objective standard for ambiguity that could provide a meaningful trigger for lenity.
In 2013, in Maracich v. Spears, the Court repeated that “[t]he rule of lenity comes into operation at the end of the process of construing what Congress has expressed . . . .”245 Maracich required a “grievous ambiguity or uncertainty in the statute” to trigger lenity.246 Two years earlier, in Kasten v. Saint-Gobain Performance Plastics Corp., the Court considered whether the phrase “filed any complaint” in the Fair Labor Standards Act includes oral complaints.247 There, the Court posited that a statute must remain “sufficiently ambiguous to warrant application of the rule of lenity.”248 The Maracich Court failed to explain why the trigger for lenity went from sufficient ambiguity—enough or adequate ambiguity—to grievous ambiguity—serious or grave ambiguity—in the span of two years.249 Perhaps the Court was confused by Dean v. United States.250 In Dean, a 2009 opinion, the majority required grievous ambiguity to invoke lenity,251 while the dissent claimed only a sufficiently ambiguous statute warrants the rule.252
Seemingly unsatisfied with only two tests, the Court’s justices have offered no less than nine different tests to determine whether statutory ambiguity is bad enough to trigger lenity. In Lanzetta v. New Jersey, Justice Pierce Butler said a penal statute must be sufficiently explicit.253 In United States v. Rodriquez, Justice Souter suggests that lenity ought to apply when a statute has two plausible interpretations.254 Chief Justice Rehnquist, in Scheidler v. National Organization for Women, Inc., argues that lenity ought to apply when an ambiguous statute has two rational readings.255 In Muscarello v. United States, Justice Ginsburg posits that lenity applies if the interpretation is subject to some doubt.256 In United States v. Lanier, Justice Souter explains that the test is whether the statute is reasonably clear.257 Justice Marshall, in Moskal v. United States, prefers a reasonable doubt standard after a court tries but fails to resolve the ambiguity.258 But Justice Blackmun says in Dowling v. United States that lenity applies unless a statute is plain and unmistakable.259
How much ambiguity constitutes enough ambiguity to trigger lenity? It is impossible to know. But whether the statute is reasonably clear or grievously ambiguous or sufficiently ambiguous, or whether the proffered construction is plausible, or rational, or plain, is in the eye of the beholder. The Supreme Court’s various attempts to test for ambiguity is either a makeweight or a symptom of the larger problem—the Court’s reluctance to fully embrace the rule of lenity and the vital due process rights it protects.
III. A WAY FORWARD
The rule of lenity was doomed from the start. When the United States Supreme Court first adopted a rule of strict construction in 1820, the Court justified its cause by pointing to two primary functions that are in direct conflict.260 First, the Court warned that it ought to avoid affording a criminal statute unintended breadth.261 According to the Supreme Court, Congress, and not the courts, is charged with determining the reach and scope of crime and punishment. The legislative branch, populated by elected lawmakers, has exclusive constitutional authority to make law.262 Thus if a court broadens the scope of enacted law, it risks usurping Congress’s exclusive grant of lawmaking authority and upsetting the separation of governmental powers. A rule of strict construction—lenity—safeguards the separation of powers doctrine by requiring courts to defer to Congress when faced with statutory ambiguity.
Second, the Supreme Court also defended its rule of strict construction observing the rule’s “tenderness . . . for the rights of individuals.”263 Due process requires fair warning and notice of the acts that constitute a crime and the crime’s penalty.264 Fair warning is paramount when a court considers a criminal statute because liberty, and perhaps even life, are at stake. If a court broadens the scope of a criminal statute to include conduct not fairly within it or if a court increases a penalty not obvious from its text, then a court runs afoul of fundamental due process rights protected by the Constitution. A rule of lenity safeguards due process rights by requiring courts to construe narrowly criminal statutes to include only those crimes and penalties fairly and obviously within them.
The problem, however, is that each purpose or function of the rule of lenity is at odds with the other. If a court faithfully endeavors to protect the separation of powers doctrine and defers to Congress when faced with an ambiguous criminal statute, then any statutory doubt is usually resolved fully using the dozens of tools of statutory construction available to the court without regard to lenity. Once a court discovers Congress’s hidden intent, then no ambiguity remains nor any reason to apply lenity—even to a facially ambiguous statute. Only after a court has “seized every thing from which aid can be derived” and can only guess at Congress’s intentions will a court apply lenity as a last resort to avoid judicially-created statutory breadth to protect the separation of powers.265
Conversely, if a court faithfully endeavors to safeguard due process rights, then it ought to construe narrowly all facially ambiguous statutes that fail to provide adequate notice of crime and punishment. But if a court applies lenity without any attempt to glean the intent of Congress to resolve statutory doubt, then it risks limiting Congress’s authority to make law. Stated differently, if a court favors the separation of powers function of the rule of lenity, then it diminishes the due process function, and vice versa. This tension defines the problem: one side of the lenity coin is in conflict with the other.
The Supreme Court has avoided the tension by planting its judicial thumb firmly on the separation of powers side of the lenity scale.266 If the Court can resolve statutory doubt, then it usually will. And without statutory doubt, there is no room for lenity. Thus, the doctrine has lost its due process bona fides. Curiously, the Court has declined to strike the rule and continues to cite it as a viable and important tool.267 But if the rule of lenity is to mean anything, the Court must give due weight to both sides of the lenity equation, including fair warning. It is a question of timing. Does the rule of lenity apply at the outset when a court first recognizes statutory doubt or at the end of the process once a court concludes it cannot, after effort, resolve the ambiguity? Is lenity a substantive rule of construction of penal statutes or merely a tiebreaker to apply when a court can only guess what Congress intended?
The question is practical and imperative. If lenity is applied at the end of the process of statutory interpretation, then it cannot purport to defend fundamental rights to fair notice. To suggest that a person is fairly warned of criminal conduct, not because the statute is clear but because a court could clarify it, is reckless and undermines the reason for the rule. As Justice Holmes observed in 1931:
Although it is not likely that a criminal defendant will carefully consider the text of the law before he murders or steals, it is reasonable that a fair warning should be given to the world in language that the common world will understand, of what the law intends to do if a certain line is passed. To make the warning fair, so far as possible the line should be clear.268
The Court affirmed this idea in Bouie v. City of Columbia, when Justice Brennan opined in 1964 that the basic principle behind the Due Process Clause is “that a criminal statute must give fair warning of the conduct that it makes a crime . . . .”269 And in United States v. Harriss, Chief Justice Warren agreed that “[t]he constitutional requirement of definiteness is violated by a criminal statute that fails to give a person of ordinary intelligence fair notice that his contemplated conduct is forbidden by the statute.”270 Justice Warren continues, stating that “[t]he underlying principle is that no man shall be held criminally responsible for conduct which he could not reasonably understand to be proscribed.”271 Later, in United States v. Lanier, Justice Souter confirmed that the rule of lenity “ensures fair warning by so resolving ambiguity in a criminal statute as to apply it only to conduct clearly covered.”272
These statements and others compel a reconstructing of the rule of lenity so that fair warning is a legitimate, sincere, and deliberate consideration. To that end, a criminal statute must be reasonably clear; and a person of ordinary intelligence must be able to reasonably understand what conduct is proscribed by law and what penalty is attached. If an ordinary person is not reasonably able to understand a reasonably clear statute, then lenity ought to apply to safeguard fundamental due process protections. A statute is reasonably clear if a person acting in good faith could identify how to conform his conduct to the law to avoid penalty.273
This test asks whether a person of average intelligence acting in good faith is able to know the law. If he or she is able to know the law, then a statute is reasonably clear. Ignorantia juris non excusat roughly translates to “ignorance of the law is no excuse.”274 So, while the fair warning standard in the Due Process Clause guarantees that the law is knowable, it does not pretend to require that it is known. A law is knowable when it is available and reasonably accessible to the average person. Thus, for a criminal statute to be reasonably clear for the purposes of lenity, the law taken as a whole must be knowable: it must be available and reasonably accessible to the average person. If knowable law resolves statutory doubt, then lenity does not apply. But if knowable law does not resolve statutory doubt, then a court must apply the rule of strict construction to safeguard vital due process rights.
But what is knowable law? It is the aggregate of published, authoritative, substantive legal principles, rules, and standards. It includes enacted law, judicial law, administrative rules and orders, official interpretations of law, and any other published source of authority.275 If a criminal offense is knowable by means of these sources, then no doubt remains as to the conduct prohibited or the punishment exacted, and so lenity would not apply. In the paradigmatic case, a criminal statute is facially ambiguous as to the proscribed conduct defining an offense. If an authoritative and reasonably available source of authority—a judicial opinion or an administrative regulation—resolves the ambiguity, then the statutory question is resolved. With no ambiguity remaining, a defendant could not succeed on a demand for lenity. But if an authoritative and reasonably available source of authority is not available, then the statutory ambiguity is unresolved and a court should apply lenity to protect the defendant’s right to fair warning.
For example, in United States v. Turley, the Supreme Court construed the meaning of the term “stolen” found in the National Motor Vehicle Theft Act.276 Rejecting an application of lenity, the Court accepted a broader interpretation of the term and opined that it is “appropriate to consider the purpose of the Act and to gain what light we can from its legislative history.”277 Later, in Dixson v. United States, the Court considered whether officers in a private, not-for-profit corporation are “public officials” as defined by the federal bribery statute, 18 U.S.C. § 201(a).278 Justice Marshall, writing for the majority, admitted that “the language of [the statute] does not decide the dispute. . . . We must turn, therefore, to the legislative history of the federal bribery statute” to clarify Congress’s intent.279 Justice Marshall continued, “[i]f the legislative history fails to clarify the statutory language, our rule of lenity would compel us to construe the statute in favor of . . . criminal defendants . . . .”280 Declining an appeal to lenity, the Court rejected a strict interpretation of the statutory term after discovering favorable legislative history.281
In both Turley and Dixson, legislative history clarified statutory ambiguity, allowing the Court to avoid lenity.282 Under a reconstructed view of lenity, the Court would avoid a statute’s legislative history, because statutory history is neither an authoritative source of substantive law nor is it available to the average person; hence, it is unknowable to the average defendant. Thus, doubt remains as to the scope of the ambiguous statutory terms and lenity ought to apply.
Under the current law of lenity, due process problems also emerge when a court resorts to the canons of statutory construction to resolve statutory ambiguity in a criminal statute. First, it is impossible to predict which canons a court may choose to employ when it endeavors to resolve statutory doubt. Second, it is impossible to predict how much weight a court will give any particular canon of construction. As such, the canons as a class are unknowable to the average criminal defendant. For example, in Babbitt v. Sweet Home Chapter of Communities for a Great Oregon, the Court considered whether the Department of the Interior’s interpretation of the term “harm” in section 3 of the Endangered Species Act was a permissible construction of the statute.283 Concluding that it was a permissible construction, the Court employed no less than six tools of statutory construction to reach its conclusion:
- the plain meaning rule;
- the rule to avoid surplusage;
- statutory purpose;
- the whole statute rule;
- the golden rule exception; and
- legislative history.284
Because the Court has declined to attach precedential weight to the application of the canons or to determine each canon’s relative weight, it is impossible to know how a court will resolve statutory doubt using the canons.285 Because a person is unable to predict how a court may resolve statutory ambiguity, lenity ought to apply.
The reconstructed rule of lenity would prevent a court from broadening criminal statutes using traditional tools of statutory construction and applying the court’s revealed and clarified statute to the defendant at bar. If a court relies on sources other than knowable law—such as canons of construction or legislative history—to resolve statutory doubt, then the court risks violating the fair notice requirements of due process. A person deciding whether to engage in certain conduct would have no way of discerning a future court’s choice of interpretative tools or methodology. Often, a court is tasked with ferreting out Congress’s intent buried in a maze of canons and contradictory history. So, while a court may be able to resolve statutory doubt, it is too late to allow the defendant meaningful notice of the crime or penalty. The better approach is to inquire whether a statute was reasonably and objectively clear to the defendant after considering all available and accessible authoritative sources.
A reconstructed rule of lenity no longer favors the separation of powers function of lenity, and it gives real teeth to the fair warning function of the rule. In effect, it expands the fair warning function of lenity but may limit the rule’s application to those cases where a court considers statutory questions of first impression. If a case presents a statutory question not already resolved by an authoritative (and knowable) source, then lenity applies because a defendant could not have known the proscribed conduct or attached penalty. Not only does a reconstructed rule of lenity protect fundamental due process rights to fair warning, but it also guards against retroactive application of new law applied to existing facts.286 For example, in Bouie v. City of Columbia, the Supreme Court considered whether a judicial construction of a criminal trespass statute that broadened the scope of the statutory language violated the Due Process Clause’s right to fair warning and, when applied retroactively to the case at bar, violated the Ex Post Facto Clause found in Article I of the U.S. Constitution.287 Concluding that it did, the Court reversed the defendants’ convictions, thus conflating the importance of fair warning with the dangers of retroactivity.288
This is not to say that a court ought to ignore the important separation of powers function of the rule of lenity. As first described in United States v. Wiltberger, the rule of strict construction guards against judicial encroachment of Congress’s law-making authority.289 When confronted with statutory ambiguity, a court is supposed to glean the intent of Congress and not impose its own view. So, the rule of strict construction or lenity requires a court to choose the narrower construction of a statute when it cannot decipher Congress’s intent.290 But if a court is able to glean the intent of Congress, it should. The resolution of statutory doubt, however, should not be applied to the defendant at bar. Justice Brennan, in Bouie v. City of Columbia, dealt with this very issue when he ruled that, while a judicial construction of an ambiguous criminal statute “is of course valid for the future, it may not be applied retroactively . . . to impose criminal penalties for conduct committed at a time when it is not fairly stated to be criminal.”291 A court should resolve statutory doubt but may properly decline to apply the resolved statute to the case at bar to safeguard critical due process rights protected by the rule of lenity.
A reconstructed rule of lenity would respect the two key functions that drive the rule—fair notice and separation of governmental powers. But the fundamental and personal right to fair warning would resume its place alongside the separation of powers factor and no longer play a secondary and trivial role. If a criminal statute is not reasonably clear after considering knowable and authoritative sources such that a person of average intelligence may not be able to discern what conduct is criminal, then a court ought to strictly construe it to protect fair notice and guard against judicial encroachment of a legislative function. For the rule of lenity to mean anything, it must honor its original purpose to secure fundamental notions of liberty found in the Due Process Clause.
CONCLUSION
Lenity was doomed from the start. The rule of lenity purports to serve two important constitutional objectives. First, it serves to preserve the separation of governmental powers. Second, lenity serves the constitutional right of fair warning found in due process. But while the United States Supreme Court purports to uphold both Constitution-based rationales, it routinely favors one over the other. The problem lies in the tension between lenity’s two competing functions. When a court resolves statutory doubt by gleaning the intent of the enacting legislature, it preserves the legislature’s constitutional role to make law. But when a court resolves statutory doubt, there is no longer a reason to apply lenity. So, the court routinely avoids examining the serious due process questions that lenity is intended to cure.
A reconstructed rule of lenity resolves this tension and restores fair warning to its proper role in the lenity analysis. Here, a court may resolve statutory doubt without regard to lenity if the court employs knowable and authoritative sources—a judicial opinion or an administrative interpretation—to resolve statutory doubt. But when a court employs unknowable sources—legislative history or the canons of statutory construction—lenity compels a strict application of the statutory term to the defendant in the case while it fully resolves the ambiguity for prospective applications. This view not only honors our long-held understanding of fair warning of crimes and punishment but also guards against retroactive application of criminal statutes. The rule of lenity is the only canon of statutory construction designed to serve two critical constitutional objectives. It is worth preserving, but only if both sides of the lenity equation matter.