In the wake of the Supreme Court’s decision limiting the Voting Rights Act, the ruling is not the only subject for debate. We also need to confront how the timing of decisions should not be controlled for political purposes. Read my new column from RealClearPolitics.
By FRANK MIELE
The Supreme Court decides cases. But it also decides when to decide them – and that timing can be just as consequential as the ruling itself.
Now we have a real-world example.
In a closely watched decision last week, the Supreme Court ruled 6-3 that Louisiana’s creation of a second majority-black congressional district violated the Constitution, holding that race cannot be used too heavily in drawing political maps, even to comply with the Voting Rights Act.
Reasonable people can agree with that conclusion. The Constitution promises equal protection under the law, and the idea that race should not dominate redistricting decisions is consistent with that principle. For years, the court has struggled to reconcile the Voting Rights Act with the Equal Protection Clause. This ruling moves that balance in a more colorblind direction.
But the substance of the ruling is only part of the story.
The timing matters too.
The case was argued twice – first in March 2025 and again in October – and for months it sat undecided, even as the justices’ questioning during oral arguments suggested that a conservative majority was likely to strike down race-driven congressional districts. Some observers questioned whether the delay reflected more than ordinary deliberation, given how the timing of the ruling could affect the current election cycle. But whatever the reason, states were left waiting, unsure how the law would ultimately be interpreted.
Meanwhile, political calendars did not stop. In an unusual step, both Republican- and Democrat-led legislatures have been working to redraw congressional maps mid-decade, partly in response to political pressure from President Trump. But they could not know whether the court’s interpretation of the racial component of redistricting would change – or how.
Each state was left without certainty as the midterm elections approached. Louisiana was already in the middle of absentee voting for congressional elections when the court’s ruling invalidated its district map. The governor said he had no choice but to suspend the House elections in response. Even prior to the ruling, Mississippi’s governor signed an executive order calling for a special legislative session to redraw districts 21 days after the much-anticipated decision. And in Florida, Gov. Ron DeSantis had already positioned lawmakers to act, placing redistricting on the agenda of a special session, ensuring the state could move quickly once the court ruled.
Most other states are scrambling to determine how the court’s ruling impacts them, especially during the current election cycle. For the most part, redistricting is not instantaneous. It requires legislation, legal review, and often additional litigation. Every week that passes reduces the number of states that can realistically redraw maps before the midterms. A decision handed down earlier in the term might have produced one set of outcomes. A decision handed down now may produce another.
That is not a criticism of the ruling itself. It is a recognition that timing is not neutral.
Most Americans focus on what the court decides. Far fewer consider the significance of when those decisions are released. But in a system where legal rulings intersect with political processes, timing can shape outcomes just as surely as legal reasoning.
Whether intentional or not, the court’s discretion over timing creates an opportunity for influence that extends beyond the law. A delay – even one rooted in ordinary deliberation – can affect elections, legislative agendas and, ultimately, who holds power. But what if the delays are intentional? Might the minority justices in the Voting Rights Act decision knowingly have withheld their dissents as a tactic to postpone the ruling’s impact? We will probably never know, but even the possibility suggests the need for reform.
But how could reform occur? In most areas of our government, the people hold the key. Members of Congress must answer to voters. Presidents face elections and constant political pressure. When procedures break down or public confidence erodes, those institutions are pushed – sometimes reluctantly – to adapt.
The Supreme Court is different.
Its members serve for life. Its internal processes are self-governed. Congress can shape the court at the margins – including aspects of its jurisdiction – but it does not and realistically cannot control the internal mechanics of how and when the court issues its decisions. Nor can the president. That is a function of the separation of powers.
The result is an institution largely insulated from the kinds of external pressures that force reform elsewhere in government.
Within that insulation lies a vulnerability.
Timing, left entirely to internal discretion, can become a form of influence. A majority controls when a decision is issued. But the minority, through the drafting of concurring and dissenting opinions, can affect how long deliberations continue. A chief justice may have procedural tools that shape the pace of the court’s work, but up until now, most chief justices have given court minorities considerable discretion to determine their own timelines.
We have seen how that discretion operates under pressure. In the Dobbs case, a draft majority opinion overturning Roe v. Wade was leaked weeks before the final decision was issued. During that period, the court faced intense public pressure, protests at the homes of justices, and heightened security concerns. If a majority justice had been removed from the court before the decision was finalized, through intimidation or even assassination, the result would have been a tie, effectively nullifying the ruling as a national precedent. Yet the court did not accelerate its timetable.
That is not a judgment about the justices’ motives. It is a reflection of the reality of the court’s process. A final decision does not emerge until the full cycle of majority, concurring, and dissenting opinions is complete. That means the timing of a ruling is not controlled by the majority alone. It is shaped by the pace of the court as a whole.
The power to affect that timing – even under extraordinary circumstances – rests entirely within the court itself.
That is precisely why a clock is needed. It would not assume bad faith. It would remove the opportunity for timing itself to become a form of influence.
If timing can shape outcomes, then timing should be governed.
The solution need not be complicated. Chief Justice John Roberts could adopt a formal internal rule requiring that opinions – both majority and dissenting – be finalized within a defined period. That period could be measured from oral argument or from the circulation of the majority draft. It could allow for limited extensions in extraordinary cases.
But it would establish a principle – that decisions will be issued within a reasonable and predictable timeframe.
Critics will say that such rules could rush deliberation. That concern is real. But delay has costs as well – costs that are now visible.
A court that wields immense power over the direction of the country should not also wield unlimited discretion over when that power is exercised. It’s time the Supreme Court recognized this reality – and governed itself accordingly.
Frank Miele, retired editor of the Daily Inter Lake in Kalispell, Mont., is a columnist for RealClearPolitics. His book “The Media Matrix: What If Everything You Know Is Fake” is available from his Amazon author page. Visit him at HeartlandDiaryUSA.com or follow him on Facebook @HeartlandDiaryUSA and on X/Gettr @HeartlandDiary.
