SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES
_________________
No. 21–5592
_________________
John H. Ramirez, PETITIONER
v. Bryan
Collier, Executive Director, Texas Department of Criminal Justice,
et al.
on writ of certiorari to the united states
court of appeals for the fifth circuit
[March 24, 2022]
Justice Thomas, dissenting.
Petitioner John Henry Ramirez stabbed Pablo
Castro 29 times during a robbery that netted $1.25. Castro bled to
death in a parking lot. Since that day, Ramirez has manufactured
more than a decade of delay to evade the capital sentence lawfully
imposed by the State of Texas. This Court now affords yet another
chance for him to delay his execution. Because I think Ramirez’s
claims either do not warrant equitable relief or are procedurally
barred, I respectfully dissent.
I
The saga of Ramirez’s crimes and the ensuing
litigation warrants a fuller retelling than the majority
provides.
A
On the night of July 19, 2004, John Henry
Ramirez, Christina Chavez, and Angela Rodriguez ran out of drug
money. Wanting more, they drove through Corpus Christi, Texas, in
search of victims to rob.
Ramirez v.
Stephens, 641
Fed. Appx. 312, 314 (CA5 2016).
Pablo Castro, a father of nine, was working the
night shift at the Times Market convenience store, as he had for
years. With midnight approaching, he and another employee prepared
to close up. Castro collected the trash and went outside to put it
in the dumpster.
Ramirez v.
State, 2011 WL 1196886,
*1–*5 (Tex. Crim. App., Mar. 16, 2011).
Ramirez and his confederates found Castro in the
convenience store’s parking lot. Wielding a serrated knife, Ramirez
slashed and stabbed Castro 29 times. Castro suffered eight wounds
on his forearm and hands as he struggled to defend himself. He
suffered many more wounds to the head, neck, shoulders, and back.
After Castro fell to the ground, the attackers rifled through his
pockets, collected $1.25, and drove away.
Ibid.
Two employees at a nearby store witnessed the
attack. When they reached Castro, he was still conscious. He had
suffered a deep gash across his throat and was spitting up blood.
Castro eventually lost consciousness and, by the time first
responders arrived, he had stopped breathing. He died in the
parking lot.
Ibid.
Having netted only $1.25 from Castro, Ramirez
and the others pursued new targets. Within minutes of murdering
Castro, they found April Metting waiting in the drive-through of a
Whataburger, with her 2-year-old son in the back seat. While Chavez
distracted Metting, Ramirez crept up to the driver’s side window,
grabbed Metting by the back of her neck, and held the now
blood-stained serrated knife to her throat. Metting implored the
assailants not to harm her in front of her child. Ramirez ordered:
“ ‘Shut up, bitch.’ ” Metting surrendered her purse, and
Ramirez let her go. The assailants again fled in their van.
Id., at *3–*4.
They next targeted Ruby Pena Hinojosa, who was
sitting in the drive-through line of a different Whataburger. As
before, one of the women distracted Hinojosa while Ramirez
approached her driver-side window to put the knife to her neck. But
Hinojosa was able to dodge the knife, roll up the window, and back
her car away from the assailants, who then departed in their van.
Ibid.
Not long after, responding officers spotted the
van and pulled it over. When the officers exited their patrol
cruiser, the van sped off. The police pursued, only to lose sight
of it. Ramirez, Rodriguez, and Chavez then abandoned the van in an
overgrown lot and continued on foot.
Id., at *5. Police soon
found and arrested Rodriguez and Chavez, but they did not find
Ramirez. He fled to Mexico and hid there for over three years
before law enforcement apprehended him near the U. S.-Mexican
border.
Id., at *6, n. 3.
B
In 2008, A Texas jury convicted Ramirez of
capital murder and sentenced him to death. The Texas courts upheld
the conviction on direct and state postconviction review. In
October 2013, Ramirez filed a federal habeas petition in the
U. S. District Court for the Southern District of Texas. Seven
years of habeas litigation followed, during which the District
Court intervened at the last minute to stay a 2017 execution. See
Part II–A–1,
infra. Ultimately, the District Court, the
Court of Appeals, and this Court denied relief. See
Ramirez
v.
Davis, 580 U.S. 833 (2016) (denying certiorari);
Ramirez v.
Davis, 589 U. S. ___ (2020)
(same).
After the federal habeas proceedings had run
their course, Texas set a new execution date for September 9, 2020.
But, in August 2020, Ramirez sued under Rev. Stat. §1979, 42
U. S. C. §1983, to stop the execution, arguing that
Texas’ then-operative ban on outside spiritual advisors in the
execution chamber violated the First Amendment and the Religious
Land Use and Institutionalized Persons Act of 2000 (RLUIPA), 42
U. S. C. §2000cc
et seq. Ramirez demanded that his
pastor, Dana Moore, be present with him during his execution. But
Ramirez also pleaded in his complaint that “Pastor Moore need not
touch [him] at any time in the execution chamber.” App. 61.
Ultimately, Ramirez and Texas agreed to recall the death warrant,
withdraw the execution date, and dismiss the complaint. Texas then
changed its execution protocols to permit vetted spiritual advisors
into the chamber.
On February 5, 2021, a Texas state court set
Ramirez’s execution date for September 8, 2021. Two months passed
before Ramirez submitted an administrative grievance requesting
that the prison allow his pastor into the execution chamber.
Id., at 50–51. Texas acquiesced on May 4.
Id., at 55.
Another month passed. Then, on June 11, Ramirez submitted a new
grievance requesting what his 2020 complaint specifically
disclaimed: that his spiritual advisor be allowed to “ ‘lay
hands on [him]’ during [his] upcoming execution.”
Id., at
52. In the part of the grievance instructing him to describe the
“[a]ction [r]equested to resolve [his] [c]omplaint,” Ramirez asked
that Texas permit Moore to lay hands on him and “pray over” him
during the execution.
Id., at 53.
Texas denied that request on July 2.
Ibid. Ramirez sought administrative review of the decision
on July 8.
Id., at 155–156. On August 10, before the prison
decided the appeal, Ramirez again sued under §1983, this time
claiming that the State’s refusal to allow his pastor to lay hands
on him violated the First Amendment and RLUIPA.
On August 22—just 17 days before his execution
date—Ramirez amended his complaint. He still demanded that the
State allow his pastor to lay hands on him. But he now specified
that he also wanted Moore to engage in “
audible praying”
during the execution.
Id., at 96 (emphasis added).
In light of his belated §1983 suit, Ramirez
moved the District Court on August 18 to stay his execution. The
State responded that Ramirez’s claims did not warrant equitable
relief and were not properly exhausted under the Prison Litigation
Reform Act of 1995 (PLRA), 42 U. S. C. §1997e(a). The
District Court denied Ramirez’s motion on September 2. ___
F. Supp. 3d ___ (SD Tex. 2021). A divided panel of the Court
of Appeals likewise denied relief. Concurring, Chief Judge Owen
observed: “[T]he shifting of Ramirez’s litigation posture indicates
that the change in position is strategic, and that delay is the
goal.” 10 F. 4th 561, 562 (CA5 2021). Nevertheless, just a few
hours before Ramirez’s execution was scheduled to take place on
September 8, this Court stayed the proceeding and granted his
petition for a writ of certiorari. See 594 U. S. ___
(2021).
II
This Court granted equitable relief in
September, and today it grants further relief pending proceedings
below. Ramirez presses two reasons why he merited—and continues to
merit—our intervention in Texas’ enforcement of his capital
sentence. First, he argues that the State would violate RLUIPA by
prohibiting his pastor from “laying hands” on him during his
execution. Second, he argues that the State would violate the same
statute by prohibiting his pastor from audibly praying during the
execution. I do not think either claim warranted relief on
September 8. Nor do I think either claim warrants further relief
now.
A
First, I disagree with the majority that
Ramirez’s demand for in-chambers touching merits relief.
An “equitable remedy,” such as a stay of
execution or a preliminary injunction, is “not available as a
matter of right” to a death-row inmate who has sued the State under
§1983.
Hill v.
McDonough, 547 U.S. 573, 584 (2006).
The parties agree that Ramirez seeks a particular type of equitable
relief: a preliminary injunction. See
ante, at 6. A federal
court may issue this “extraordinary remedy” only if the prisoner
shows that he is likely to succeed on the merits, that he will be
irreparably injured absent the injunction, and that the equities,
taking the public interest into account, balance in his favor.
Nken v.
Holder,
556 U.S.
418, 432, 434 (2009) (internal quotation marks omitted).
Two components of the equitable balance are
especially relevant here. First, federal courts “should police
carefully” against abusive litigation designed “to interpose
unjustified delay” and deny relief if they detect gamesmanship.
Bucklew v.
Precythe, 587 U. S. ___, ___ (2019)
(slip op., at 30). Second, federal courts “must take into
consideration” the weighty interest that States and victims have in
carrying out capital sentences in a timely manner. See
id.,
at ___ (slip op., at 29);
Gomez v.
United States Dist.
Court for Northern Dist. of Cal., 503 U.S. 653, 654 (1992)
(
per curiam). These equitable factors foreclose Ramirez’s
request for extraordinary relief.
1
This Court has long recognized the “equitable
principl[e]” that “a suitor’s conduct in relation to the matter at
hand may disentitle him to the relief he seeks.”
Sanders v.
United States,
373 U.S.
1, 17 (1963); see also,
e.g., Deweese v.
Reinhard,
165 U.S.
386, 390 (1897) (“[I]f the conduct of the plaintiff be
offensive to the dictates of natural justice, . . . he
will be held remediless in a court of equity”);
Bein v.
Heath, 6 How. 228, 247 (1848); 1 Pomeroy’s Equity
Jurisprudence §397 (4th ed. 1918). Or, as the majority puts it, if
a prisoner acts inequitably, “ ‘the doors of the court will be
shut against him.’ ”
Ante, at 19 (quoting
Keystone
Driller Co. v.
General Excavator Co.,
290 U.S.
240, 245 (1933)).
This equitable rule is especially important in
the death penalty context. Unsurprisingly, death-row inmates
generally employ any means available to stave off their sentences
and therefore often engage in abusive litigation. See
Woodard v.
Hutchins,
464 U.S.
377, 380 (1984) (Powell, J., concurring) (noting a “pattern”).
And this Court has warned that, while zealous “counsel for the
condemned in a capital case” understandably “lay hold of every
ground which, in their judgment, might tend to the advantage of
their client,” they should not “interfer[e] with “the
administration of justice . . . on mere pretexts.”
Lambert v.
Barrett,
159 U.S.
660, 662 (1895).
Prisoners engage in abusive litigation in
several different ways. For instance, some prisoners hold off
bringing new claims until the last minute in order to force courts
to stay or enjoin an execution simply to afford themselves more
time to consider the merits of the claims. See,
e.g.,
Woodard, 464 U. S.
, at 377–380 (Powell, J.,
concurring);
Bucklew, 587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at
30);
Price v.
Dunn, 587 U. S. ___, ___ (2019)
(Thomas, J., concurring in denial of certiorari) (slip op., at 13);
Dunn v.
Ray, 586 U. S. ___ (2019) (slip op., at
1). Other prisoners bring any “meritless” claim available, no
matter how frivolous, in hopes a sympathetic court will grant
relief.
Ibid.; see also
Hill, 547 U. S., at
584–585;
Lambert, 159 U. S., at 662. Still others
litigate their claims “piecemeal[,] . . .
challenging one aspect” of their execution “after another” in order
to buy time.
Hill, 547 U. S., at 581; see also
Woodard, 464 U. S., at 380 (Powell, J., concurring);
Williams v.
Kelley, 854 F.3d 998, 1002 (CA8 2017)
(
per curiam); cf.
Sanders, 373 U. S., at 18
(noting that federal courts should not “tolerate needless piecemeal
litigation, or . . . entertain collateral proceedings
whose only purpose is to vex, harass, or delay”). And, in many
other ways, yet more prisoners “deliberately engage in dilatory
tactics” designed to drag execution- delaying claims out
“indefinitely.”
Rhines v.
Weber,
544 U.S.
269, 277–278 (2005); see also
Ryan v.
Valencia
Gonzales,
568 U.S.
57, 76–77 (2013). These tactics all too often succeed. See,
e.g., Bucklew, 587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at
29) (describing two decades of delay).
Because of the prevalence of vexatious death
penalty litigation, a court sitting in equity “must” consider
whether a condemned criminal has made an “attempt at manipulation”
that would disqualify him from equitable relief.
Gomez, 503
U. S., at 654. Federal courts faced with abusive litigation
“can and should” use their “equitable powers” to protect state
judgments and sentences.
Bucklew, 587 U. S., at ___
(slip op., at 30) (internal quotation marks omitted); see also
Barr v.
Lee, 591 U. S. ___, ___ (2020) (
per
curiam) (slip op., at 3) (describing “our responsibility” to
ensure that lawful sentences are carried out “ ‘fairly and
expeditiously’ ”); 1 Pomeroy’s Equity Jurisprudence §397.
Today, this Court should have denied equitable
relief to a prisoner who has acted inequitably—as both the District
Court and Court of Appeals did before us. Ramirez’s shifting
litigation position lays bare what he really wants: “to manipulate
the judicial process” to win further delay.
Gomez, 503
U. S., at 654. The record all but speaks for itself. In August
2020, when Ramirez first demanded that Texas allow his pastor into
the chamber, he explicitly avowed that his pastor “need not touch”
him “at any time in the execution chamber.” App. 61. Taking Ramirez
at his word, Texas eventually acquiesced. But then Ramirez flipped
his position and filed another administrative grievance and §1983
complaint demanding what he had earlier disclaimed: touching in the
execution chamber. See
id., at 19, 52. This is a textbook
example of dilatory and abusive “piecemeal litigation” against
which we have warned courts in equity to guard. See
Hill,
547 U. S., at 585. Like Chief Judge Owen, I think that the
shift in Ramirez’s litigation posture alone justifies denying
equitable relief because it “indicates that the change in position
is strategic and that delay is the goal.” 10 F. 4th, at 562 (Owen,
C. J., concurring).
But if any doubt remained on that score, the
history of this case dispels it. Ramirez’s current RLUIPA suit is
but the latest iteration in an 18-year pattern of evasion.
First, consider the night of the murder. Rather
than surrender and face justice, Ramirez sped away from police
before abandoning his confederates and fleeing on foot.
Ramirez, 2011 WL 1196886, *3. He even went so far as to
abscond to a foreign country, delaying justice for another 3 ½
years. His evasion ended only after state and federal law
enforcement captured him on the southern border. See
id., at
*6, n. 3.
Ramirez continued to engineer delay in state
court. After a jury convicted him, his case moved to the sentencing
phase. Ramirez’s lawyer intended to put on mitigation witnesses.
But after one witness, Ramirez instructed his lawyer to call no
more. The state court found Ramirez competent and honored his
decision. Predictably, he was sentenced to death. Yet, during state
habeas proceedings, Ramirez nonetheless brought a claim (among
several others) accusing his state trial counsel of ineffective
assistance for failing to provide an adequate mitigation defense.
Ramirez, 641 Fed. Appx., at 315, 326–327. The state courts
had to take the time to adjudicate this patently meritless claim,
arising from Ramirez’s own sentencing-phase decision and subsequent
about-face.
Ibid.
The pattern continued in federal habeas
proceedings. Ramirez brought several claims. Among them, he again
claimed that his trial counsel provided ineffective assistance for
failing to call more mitigation witnesses. The District Court
proceedings alone bought Ramirez another 20 months, at the end of
which the District Court ruled that all of his claims were
procedurally barred, lacked merit, or both. The court also declined
to issue a certificate of appealability on any claim, see
Ramirez v.
Stephens, 2015 WL 3629639, *26 (SD Tex.,
June 10, 2015), meaning that it thought no “reasonable jurists”
would believe its decision to deny relief was even “debatable,”
Slack v.
McDaniel,
529 U.S.
473, 484 (2000).
Undeterred, Ramirez sought a certificate of
appealability in the Court of Appeals. The Court of Appeals denied
Ramirez’s request, but only after those proceedings bought him
another seven months of delay. See
Ramirez, 641 Fed. Appx.,
at 314. Ramirez then sought our review. We did not deny his
petition for a writ of certiorari until October 3, 2016—three years
after he first filed his federal habeas petition. See
Ramirez v.
Davis, 580 U.S. 833.
Reasonably thinking the litigation finished,
Texas set Ramirez’s execution for February 2, 2017. Yet Ramirez
squeezed more time out of his federal petition with a
“[l]ast-minute” motion to stay his execution,
Bucklew, 587
U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 30), filed less than a week before
the execution date. Through new counsel, Ramirez argued that his
prior federal habeas counsel suffered from a conflict of interest
and had abandoned him during clemency proceedings. Ramirez
suggested that he needed a stay because he might try to reopen his
habeas judgment under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 60(b). Citing
the “short time remaining before Ramirez’s execution” and the
“immediacy” of the situation, the District Court granted the stay
two days before the scheduled execution,
Ramirez v.
Davis, No. 2:12–CV–410, ECF Doc. 48, pp. 1, 9 (SD Tex.,
Jan. 31, 2017), which the Court of Appeals affirmed the next day,
see
Ramirez v.
Davis, 675 Fed. Appx. 478 (CA5 2017)
(
per curiam).
This extraordinary equitable relief did not
inspire Ramirez to make any extraordinary effort—or, frankly, any
effort—to resolve the proceedings expeditiously. Instead, Ramirez
filed his Rule 60(b) motion on August 20, 2018—over 18 months after
alerting the District Court of his intent to do so. See ECF Doc. 74
(SD Tex., Aug. 20, 2018). The District Court admonished Ramirez for
his “unreasonably delayed” motion before dismissing it on
procedural and jurisdictional grounds. ECF Doc. 80, p. 11 (SD Tex.,
Jan. 3, 2019). And, as before, the District Court denied him a
certificate of appealability.
Id., at 17. So, too, did the
Court of Appeals after another six months had passed, see
Ramirez v.
Davis, 780 Fed. Appx. 110, 120 (CA5 2019),
and this Court took several more months to deny his petition for a
writ of certiorari, see
Ramirez v.
Davis, 589
U. S. ___ (2020). All told, Ramirez’s 11th-hour gambit in
January 2017 bought him more than three years of delay.
In the end, none of Ramirez’s federal habeas
claims merited even a single certificate of appealability, let
alone relief. Yet, through ceaseless litigation, strategic delay,
and a “[l]ast-minute” blitz on the District Court,
Bucklew,
587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 30), Ramirez parlayed his
federal habeas petition into a 7-year deferral of his lawfully
imposed sentence. We should interpret Ramirez’s actions in the
instant litigation in light of that history, recognize that his
shifting in-chambers-touching claim is just another chapter in that
history, and reject his most recent attempt to delay his
execution.
2
Second, a court balancing the equities must
consider that “[b]oth the State and the victims of crime have an
important interest in the timely enforcement of a sentence.”
Hill, 547 U. S., at 584; see also
Gomez, 503
U. S., at 654. The State’s interest inheres in our form of
government, given that “our federal system” protects a State from
“repeated frustration” of its imposition of a capital sentence.
Wainwright v.
Spenkelink,
442
U.S. 901, 903–904 (1979) (Rehnquist, J., dissenting). “[T]he
question of capital punishment belongs to the people and their
representatives . . . to resolve,” and the people are
entitled to see their chosen sentence carried out.
Bucklew,
587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 29).
Meanwhile, victims share the State’s interest in
the timely execution of a lawful sentence. “Only with real finality
can the victims of crime move forward knowing the moral judgment”
of the State “will be carried out.”
Calderon v.
Thompson,
523 U.S.
538, 556 (1998). Endless delay harms “the ‘powerful and
legitimate interest in punishing the guilty,’ an interest shared by
the State and the victims of crime alike.”
Ibid. (citation
omitted). “Th[is] interes[t is] magnified” when the offense is of a
“heinous nature.”
In re Federal Bureau of Prisons’
Execution Protocol Cases, 955 F.3d 106, 127 (CADC 2020)
(Katsas, J., concurring).
The equitable balance here tilts decisively in
favor of the State and Ramirez’s victims. Texans, acting through
their elected representatives, have decided that certain crimes
range so far beyond what a civilized society will accept that only
a death sentence will suffice. Ramirez long has denied Texas its
sovereign interest in seeing that sentence carried out “fairly and
expeditiously.”
Bucklew, 587 U. S., at ___ (slip op.,
at 30). Moreover, the legal uncertainty surrounding Texas’ death
penalty protocols that his litigation engendered has led to further
delays in at least four other Texas cases. See Texas Coalition to
Abolish the Death Penalty, Texas Death Penalty Developments in
2021: The Year in Review 8 (Dec. 16, 2021). Each of these delays
“work[s] a miscarriage of justice on the State.”
Price v.
Dunn, 587 U. S. ___, ___ (opinion of Thomas, J.) (slip
op., at 13) (internal quotation marks omitted).
Moreover, by evading his sentence, Ramirez has
inflicted recurrent emotional injuries on the victims of his crime.
When Ramirez killed Pablo Castro, he stole more than a life and
$1.25. He stole a father from nine children. Four of them filed a
brief in this case to explain how Ramirez’s machinations have
“ ‘frustrated’ ” their interest in seeing what they
believe to be a just execution carried out. Brief for Pablo
Castro’s Children as
Amici Curiae 13 (quoting
Bucklew, 587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 29)).
Fernando Castro has watched as Ramirez
repeatedly “ ‘used loopholes to delay [his] execution,’ ”
leaving Fernando with a “ ‘lack of closure for many years,
ever since [he] was merely a child.’ ” Brief for Pablo
Castro’s Children as
Amici Curiae 12. Roberto Castro
likewise wants “ ‘to close this chapter so that the healing
process can continue without being reopened every couple of years
to entertain Ramirez’s appeals.’ ”
Id. at 15. Maria
Chauvon Aguilar, who remembers her father as “ ‘a great
man,’ ” also must endure “ ‘all this pain and
suffering’ ” each time the courts “ ‘put a hold
on’ ” Ramirez’s execution.
Ibid. Her indignity and
frustration grow particularly acute when Ramirez receives
“ ‘all this publicity’ ” from sympathetic media outlets
for his efforts to delay his lawful sentence, as if “ ‘he just
won a gold medal.’ ”
Ibid. Finally, Pablo Castro, Jr.,
must live every day with the fact that his father “ ‘was not
able to witness [him] graduate school, basic training, advance
individual training, or see his grandchildren.’ ”
Id.,
at 16. He wants “ ‘justice and [to] be able to close this
horrible chapter’ ” in his life and the lives of his family
members.
Ibid.
These four siblings ask that their father
“ ‘finally have his justice’ ” so that “ ‘this
nightmare [can] be over.’ ”
Ibid. As their words show,
delays like the kind Ramirez has pursued here “inflict further
emotional trauma on the family . . . of the murder
victim.”
Murphy v.
Collier, 587 U. S. ___, ___
(2019) (Alito, J., dissenting from grant of application for stay)
(slip op., at 7).
3
The majority does not adequately account for
either Ramirez’s inequitable conduct or the State’s and his
victims’ interest in the timely execution of his capital
sentence.
Consider first Ramirez’s inequitable conduct.
The majority acknowledges that “ ‘the doors of the court will
be shut against’ ” a prisoner who engages in abusive
litigation.
Ante, at 19 (quoting
Keystone Driller,
290 U. S., at 245). But it proceeds as though the
abusive-litigation inquiry asks only whether “a litigant ‘slept
upon his rights.’ ”
Ante, at 20 (quoting
Gildersleeve v.
New Mexico Mining Co.,
161 U.S.
573, 578 (1896)). As described above, last-minute litigation is
but one of several types of abusive and manipulative litigation
that death-row inmates employ to delay their executions. See
supra, at 7; see also,
e.g., Hill, 547
U. S., at 584–585 (separately listing abusive claims that are
“speculative,” “filed too late in the day,” “[r]epetitive,” or
“piecemeal”). Here, Ramirez not only brought his claims piecemeal;
he executed a bait and switch. He first demanded his pastor’s
presence without touching, but then shifted and demanded touching
when requesting Moore’s presence alone no longer gave him an excuse
for delay. The majority’s analysis simply fails to factor in
Ramirez’s inequitable conduct.
In any event, the timing of Ramirez’s claims
still cuts against granting equitable relief. True, this was not an
11th-hour blitz of the sort that Ramirez carried out in 2017. But
Ramirez should have communicated his touching claim no later than
September 2020, when he expressly disclaimed any need for it.
Instead, he parceled out his claims tactically to drag out the time
before his sentence, finally asking for in-chambers touching in
June 2021, mere months before the September 2021 execution
date.
Worse, the majority bypasses the
“ ‘important interest’ ” that both the State and
Ramirez’s victims have in the execution.
Ante, at 19
(quoting
Hill, 547 U. S., at 584). It does not mention
that “the question of capital punishment belongs to the people and
their representatives, not the courts, to resolve.”
Bucklew,
587 U. S., at ___ (slip op., at 29). It does not discuss the
pain that every delay has inflicted on Castro’s family. See
supra, at ___–___. And it does not acknowledge that the
“heinous nature” of the offense—the brutal slaying of a working
father during a robbery spree to supply a drug habit—“magnified”
the State’s and the victims’ shared interest in the prompt
execution of Ramirez’s capital sentence.
In re Federal
Bureau of Prisons’ Execution Protocol Cases, 955 F. 3d, at
127 (Katsas, J., concurring). Texas’ citizens and Castro’s family
deserve more consideration and better treatment than the majority
gives them.
Instead, the majority discounts these
considerations because it thinks it can resolve the case “without
delaying or impeding [Ramirez’s] execution.”
Ante, at 19. Of
course, that is self-evidently wrong. We are now many months past
what was Ramirez’s third execution date. And, in the mine run of
cases, the majority’s approach will not do all that it promises.
The majority proposes that when a federal court “determines that
relief is appropriate under RLUIPA, the proper remedy is an
injunction ordering the accommodation, not a stay of the
execution.”
Ante, at 21. According to the majority, “[t]his
approach balances the State’s interest in carrying out capital
sentences without delay and the prisoner’s interest in religious
exercise.”
Ibid. But if the State has the temerity to
challenge a federal court’s assessment of its execution-chamber
protocols under RLUIPA, the State must necessarily pursue
“[f]urther proceedings.”
Ante, at 22. Doing so “might also
contribute to further delay in carrying out the sentence,”
ibid., for which the State will now be at fault. Thus,
“[t]he State will have to determine where its interest lies in
going forward.”
Ibid.
Here is how the majority’s test will likely play
out in practice: Prisoners, ably represented by the death penalty
defense bar, will propose new accommodations tailored to elicit an
objection from the State. They will then have three levels of
federal-court review in which to litigate whether the State has
complied with RLUIPA. From the outset, many district courts will
find that RLUIPA demands an accommodation. They will then put the
State to a stark choice: capitulate to the court-ordered
accommodation that it thinks is dangerous, or litigate and delay
the execution, knowing that the delay will count against it in the
equitable balance. Now seen as the blameworthy party, the State
that chooses to litigate will “hardly” be able to “complain about
the inequities of delay” caused by a prisoner’s last-minute
filings, because the court will hold that the State’s “own actions
were a significant contributing factor.”
Ante, at 20.
Thereafter, the district court and court of appeals will be less
likely to dismiss a prisoner’s abusive lawsuit because, after all,
both sides will have been liable for the delay. And, like here, the
result will be months or years of federally imposed stasis. The
State, its citizens, and the victims will pay the price of that
delay.
4
Equities aside, I also doubt Ramirez is likely
to succeed on the merits of his touching claim. To prevail, Ramirez
will have to show that his request is “sincerely based on a
religious belief.”
Holt v.
Hobbs,
574 U.S.
352, 360–361 (2015). “[T]he propensity of some prisoners to
assert claims of dubious sincerity [is] well documented.”
Burwell v.
Hobby Lobby Stores, Inc.,
573 U.S.
682, 718 (2014). So, just as federal courts have a duty to deny
equitable relief to prisoners engaged in vexatious litigation, they
likewise have a duty under RLUIPA to deny religious liberty claims
when prisoners are insincere. See
ibid. (Congress passed
RLUIPA “confident of the ability of the federal courts to weed out
insincere claims”);
Holt, 574 U. S., at 369 (noting
that prison officials may question the authenticity of a prisoner’s
religious belief );
Cutter v.
Wilkinson,
544 U.S.
709, 725, n. 13 (2005) (same). The evidence that demonstrates
Ramirez is bringing abusive litigation to delay his execution also
strongly suggests that he does not sincerely believe that his
pastor needs to touch him in the execution chamber.
The majority concedes that Ramirez’s “evolving
litigation positio[n]” is evidence of insincerity, but concludes
that “ample” evidence cuts the other way.
Ante, at 11–12.
The majority’s countervailing evidence, however, falls short of
showing any sincerity, let alone “a clear showing that [Ramirez] is
entitled to . . . relief.”
Winter v.
Natural
Resources Defense Council, Inc.,
555 U.S.
7, 22 (2008) (citing
Mazurek v.
Armstrong,
520 U.S.
968, 972 (1997) (
per curiam)). The majority’s primary
support is that the laying of hands is a “traditional for[m] of
religious exercise” and that Moore engages in the practice.
Ante, at 10. But whether Ramirez’s supposed belief is
“traditional” is irrelevant. RLUIPA’s protection, like “[t]he
protection of the First Amendment[,] is not restricted to orthodox
religious practices.”
Follett v.
Town of McCormick,
321 U.S.
573, 577 (1944); see also N. Chapman, Adjudicating Religious
Sincerity, 92 Wash. L. Rev. 1185, 1197–1202 (2017). The relevant
issue is whether Ramirez himself
actually believes that it
is “part of [his] faith to have [his] spiritual advisor lay hands
on [him].” App. 52. To that point, the majority cites nothing other
than Ramirez’s bare grievance—precisely the same evidence that
shows the “evolving litigation positio[n]” that the majority
concedes is evidence of insincerity. Thus, the only relevant
evidence in this case cuts strongly in favor of finding that
Ramirez is insincere.
B
Ramirez also asks us to intervene in his
long-delayed execution because Texas will not allow his pastor to
pray audibly in the execution chamber. Given Ramirez’s history, I
suspect that his goal in raising this claim is also to secure
delay. But his audible-prayer claim suffers from an antecedent
defect: Ramirez did not comply with the PLRA by exhausting the
administrative remedies available to him before bringing his claim
to federal court. Because he failed to carry out this mandatory,
congressionally imposed threshold requirement, I would dismiss his
claim.
1
Congress passed the PLRA “to eliminate
unwarranted federal-court interference with the administration of
prisons” and to allow state prisons the opportunity to address
problems before they become federal cases.
Woodford v.
Ngo,
548 U.S.
81, 89, 93 (2006). To that end, the PLRA requires prisoners to
exhaust available administrative remedies before suing. See 42
U. S. C. §1997e(a). Those remedies include “prison
grievance procedures.”
Jones v.
Bock,
549 U.S.
199, 217–218 (2007). Further, any exhaustion must be
“proper”—that is, “a prisoner must complete the [prison] review
process in accordance with the applicable procedural rules.”
Woodford, 548 U. S., at 88; see also
Jones, 549
U. S., at 211. Ultimately, a federal court may not hear a
prisoner’s claim if he has failed to comply with those “critical
procedural rules” that “impos[e] some orderly structure on the
course of . . . proceedings.”
Woodford, 548
U. S., at 90–91.
Ramirez failed to exhaust his audible-prayer
claim properly under the PLRA because he did not comply with the
administrative procedures prescribed by the Texas Department of
Criminal Justice. Two sets of procedural requirements set forth in
the department’s prisoner handbook and on its grievance forms are
most salient. See Tex. Dept. of Criminal Justice, Offender
Orientation Handbook (Feb. 2017) (Prison Handbook); App. 52–53
(Step 1 form). First, a prisoner must “attempt to informally
resolve [his] problem . . . before filing a grievance,”
and he must “not[e]” the informal resolution attempt “in the space
provided” on a “Step 1 grievance form.” Prison Handbook 73–75.
Second, when filing a Step 1 form, the prisoner must “[s]tate [his]
grievance” in the designated section, describing the “who, what,
when, [and] where” applicable to the grievance. App. 52; see also
Prison Handbook 73–75 (prisoners must make their grievance by
“completely filling out” a “Step 1 grievance form (I–127)”).
Ramirez failed to comply with either
requirement.
First, Ramirez did not attempt informal
resolution of his audible-prayer claim in accordance with Texas’
procedures. His grievance form described the informal effort he
made to resolve his touching request, but it did not mention any
informal attempt to resolve any grievance related to audible
prayer. See App. 52. Whether Ramirez made no effort to resolve this
grievance, or he simply failed to document his efforts to do so,
makes no difference under the PLRA; he did not comply either way.
And that failure is not trivial. Several prisons have imposed a
threshold requirement that prisoners attempt to resolve their
issues informally and then document that attempt. See
Woodford, 548 U. S.
, at 85–86 (describing
California’s informal resolution requirement); see also,
e.g., Little v.
Jones, 607 F.3d 1245, 1249
(CA10 2010) (describing Oklahoma’s informal first step). This “step
0” is critical—it reduces the administrative burden on prison
adjudicatory authorities and avoids turning minor misunderstandings
into formal adversarial proceedings. Ramirez’s failure to comply
with this “critical procedural rul[e]” means that he failed to
exhaust his audible-prayer claim “properly.”
Woodford, 548
U. S., at 90.
Second, in the section of the Step 1 form where
the prisoner is supposed to “[s]tate [his] grievance,” Ramirez said
nothing about audible prayer. App. 52. Ramirez mentioned only that
he wanted his pastor to “lay hands” on him in the chamber.
Ibid. It was that laying of hands, alone, that Ramirez
identified as “part of [his] faith.”
Ibid. Ramirez thus
denied Texas “a fair and full opportunity to adjudicate” his new
audible-prayer claim.
Woodford, 548 U. S., at 90. That
failure, like his failure to seek informal resolution, is no small
matter. Absent proper presentation of a grievance pursuant to
procedures that “impos[e] some orderly structure on the course of
. . . proceedings,” “no adjudicative system can function
effectively.”
Id., at 90–91. To avoid that breakdown, States
like Texas must be able to rely on federal courts to decline
entertaining lawsuits that do not comply with the PLRA. Otherwise,
because prisoners “do not want to exhaust” and have no “incentive”
to do so, they will stop following prison procedures, and the
benefit of administrative adjudication will be lost.
Id., at
90.
2
The majority does not dispute these procedural
shortcomings. Regarding Ramirez’s failure to seek informal
resolution, it says nothing. And, on Ramirez’s failure to state a
grievance, the majority itself ignores Texas’ procedural rules. The
majority notes that, in the section of Ramirez’s grievance where he
was required to state the “[a]ction [r]equested to resolve [his]
[c]omplaint,” Ramirez wrote: “That I be ALLOWED to have my
Spiritual Advisor ‘lay hands on me’ & pray over me while I am
being executed.” App. 53. That is not enough. For one, the
statement appears in the wrong part of the grievance form. There
would be a substantial loss in administrative efficiency if prison
officials had to rummage through different parts of a grievance
form to discern what the grievance actually is. For another, that
single statement is woefully imprecise. The State is free to decide
the “level of detail necessary in a grievance to comply with the
grievance procedures.”
Jones, 549 U. S., at 218. Texas
defined one here—the handbook instructs that “[t]he
specific
action required to resolve the complaint
shall be clearly
stated in the space provided on the I–127 form.” Prison
Handbook 75 (emphasis added). Ramirez did not “clearly” describe
the relief he now says he wants. His fleeting, general reference to
prayer, lodged in the wrong section of a form with a request for
in-chambers touching, did not put Texas officials on notice of what
he was demanding. That Ramirez felt the need to amend his August
2021 §1983 complaint explicitly to include “audible prayers” proves
the point. App. 91 (Second Amended Complaint).
But even if he had, Ramirez would have failed to
satisfy the PLRA for yet another reason. If the grievance had, in
fact, presented two claims,
neither of them would have been
properly exhausted because Texas prisoners may “[p]resent only one
issue per grievance.” Prison Handbook 74. An “issue” is a “point in
dispute between two or more parties.” Black’s Law Dictionary 995
(11th ed. 2019). The touching claim and the audible-prayer claim
present two independent issues, each of which (as this litigation
demonstrates) represents a different “point of dispute” calling for
independent analysis. See
Ramirez v.
Collier, 594
U. S. ___ (2021) (ordering briefing on whether Texas rules
restricting “either audible prayer or physical contact” burdened
Ramirez); compare
ante, at 7–8 (first addressing the
audible-prayer claim), with
ante, at 8–9 (then addressing
the touching claim);
ante, at 18 (acknowledging multiple
“claims”). If Ramirez had raised his audible-prayer claim on the
June 11 grievance form, he would have violated Texas procedures by
doing so, meaning he would not have properly exhausted
either claim at issue here. See
Woodford, 548
U. S., at 88, 93.
Finally, for his part, Ramirez raises one
additional argument on which the majority does not rely. He argues
that the State’s changing position over what it would permit in the
execution chamber rendered the administrative grievance process
“unavailable” to him, and therefore he was under no obligation to
exhaust administrative remedies.
Ross v.
Blake, 578
U.S. 632, 643 (2016). But Ramirez’s own conduct belies that claim.
He used the grievance process twice in the lead up to the execution
date. See,
e.g., App. 50–55. The State responded to his
concerns. The first time, the State acquiesced, allowing his pastor
into the chamber.
Id., at 55. The second time, the State did
not, denying his request to allow his pastor to lay hands on him.
Id., at 53. So, each time, the administrative review process
was available to him. He cannot now blame a system that his own
experience shows he was “ ‘capable of us[ing].’ ”
Ross, 578 U. S., at 642 (quoting
Booth v.
Churner,
532 U.S.
731, 738 (2001)).
* * *
This case well demonstrates why a prisoner’s
failure to exhaust under the PLRA should not be excused. If Ramirez
had pursued administrative remedies properly, the State would have
had a “fair opportunity to consider [his] grievance.”
Woodford, 548 U. S., at 95. For example, an attempt at
informal resolution might have allowed the prison chaplain or other
officials to resolve his request at an earlier juncture. Or, if
Ramirez had given prison officials any notice of his request in a
formal grievance, he and the State might have been able to come up
with a compromise before federal litigation turned them into
adversaries.
Id., at 89 (noting the value of settling claims
at the “administrative level”). At the very least, we might have
had a more robust administrative record with which to assess the
burdens, interests, and state rules on which his RLUIPA claims
hinge. See
id., at 95 (noting that proper exhaustion “often
results in the creation of an administrative record that is helpful
to the court”)
. Such a record might have obviated the need
to wait for the “[f]urther proceedings on remand” that the majority
now thinks are necessary to illuminate the State’s interests.
Ante, at 22.
III
In RLUIPA, Congress created a potent tool with
which prisoners can protect their sincerely held religious beliefs.
But, like any tool, it can be wielded abusively. And few have a
greater incentive to do so than death-row inmates. To counter such
abuse, federal courts sitting in equity have a duty to dismiss
piecemeal, late-breaking, dilatory, specious, speculative, or
manipulative litigation. RLUIPA itself complements that process by
requiring a prisoner to demonstrate sincerity.
Meanwhile, Congress passed the PLRA to force
prisoners to exhaust their complaints through state prisons’
administrative review processes so that prison officials might
resolve, or at least build a record to help shed light on, an
alleged problem before it escalates to litigation. Federal courts
have a duty under the PLRA to dismiss these unexhausted claims.
Today, the Court shrugs off both of these
duties. It grants equitable relief for a demonstrably abusive and
insincere claim filed by a prisoner with an established history of
seeking unjustified delay, harming the State and Ramirez’s victims
in the process. The Court also forgives the same prisoner’s
complete failure to exhaust another claim. Because I would deny
equitable relief for the first claim and dismiss the second under
the PLRA, I respectfully dissent.
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