Goldstone’s most recent book is "On Account of Race: The Supreme Court, White Supremacy, and the Ravaging of African American Voting Rights."
On Dec. 13, 2021, in a 5-4 decision, the Supreme Court denied an application from 20 New York health care workers to be exempted on religious grounds from the state’s Covid-19 vaccine mandate. The challengers, all but one of whom were Catholic, had claimed that because the three available vaccines had all been derived from or tested on cells acquired from aborted fetuses, the mandate “imposes an unconscionable choice on New York healthcare workers: abandon their faith or lose their careers and their best means to provide for their families.”
To these health care workers, that the fetal cells had been obtained from cell lines decades old made no difference, nor did it matter that the vaccines contained no material from aborted fetuses, nor even that the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops as well as other religious leaders, including the pope, had announced that receiving the vaccines did not violate ecclesiastical law. “Our love of neighbor should lead us to avoid giving scandal,” the chairmen of the Committees on Doctrine and on Pro-Life Activities wrote, “but we cannot omit fulfilling serious obligations such as the prevention of deadly infection and the spread of contagion among those who are vulnerable just to avoid the appearance of scandal.”
The court’s majority, which in something of a surprise included Brett Kavanaugh and Amy Coney Barrett, did not issue a written opinion. But the likelihood is that the nature and magnitude of the health care crisis weighed on their decision, just as it had weighed on Catholic Church leaders.
Justice Neil Gorsuch, however, did offer a written dissent, in which Samuel Alito joined. (Gorsuch also dissented in the 5-4 decision upholding a national vaccine mandate for health care workers.) Although Gorsuch claimed to base his judgment on what he termed “official expressions of hostility to religion” by New York Gov. Kathy Hochul, his actual intent, which he revealed later his opinion, was to elevate what conservatives like to call “religious liberty” to an exalted position among the freedoms to which Americans believe they are entitled. (Hochul eliminated the religious exemption for health care workers because “no organized religion” sought it and those who did were not “listening to God and what God wants.”)
Ignoring that lack of vaccination would put at risk not only the health care workers themselves, but all those with whom they came in contact, Gorsuch framed the issue strictly in terms of religious persecution. “The Free Exercise Clause [of the First Amendment],” he wrote, “protects not only the right to hold unpopular religious beliefs inwardly and secretly. It protects the right to live out those beliefs publicly in the performance of (or abstention from) physical acts.” It is odd that Gorsuch would characterize Catholicism as an “unpopular religious belief,” since Catholics represent more than one-fifth of the population and two-thirds of the members of the court.
Gorsuch’s logic is convenient. He claims repeatedly that those “unpopular” religious beliefs — he avoids mentioning Catholicism specifically — have been specifically targeted, as if the law had required only those holding such beliefs to be vaccinated. In fact, eliminating a religious exemption is declaring that religion does not prevent someone, regardless of their beliefs, from being treated the same as everyone else. His attempt to equate medical exemptions with religious ones fails as well: Requiring workers to put their lives or health in jeopardy is hardly the same as refusing a course of action on religious grounds when the acknowledged leaders of that very religion, on whose past pronouncements the challengers based their refusal, have declared such behavior irreligious. By that reasoning, anyone could refuse any mandated behavior simply by pointing to a convenient passage in the Bible, the Quran, the Book of Mormon or any obscure religious text that supported their decision.
His argument also fails to address whether, if the health care workers are justified in refusing to take the vaccine themselves, would they not be equally justified in refusing to give it to others? After all, if the vaccines themselves are sinful, how can the many nurses among the 20 plaintiffs possibly be willing to encourage abortion by perpetuating the same sinful act they have denounced?
In fact, Gorsuch has it backward. The free exercise clause of the First Amendment is designed to prevent the United States from becoming a theocracy, not to encourage it. (The irony here is that a good deal of the sentiment behind that clause was to prevent religious persecution of Catholics, who were indeed a despised minority in much of the nation.) Free exercise of religion has always been balanced against other requirements of a functioning society, public health among them, and must continue to be for other freedoms, such as the freedom to move about in public without fear, to have meaning.
And Gorsuch is not protecting all religions so much as protecting only certain religions. That he favors Christianity can be easily discerned in that he makes no comment on practices that were once the province of other “unpopular religious beliefs,” such as polygamy, which once was standard among Mormons but is now illegal in all 50 states, a prohibition that was upheld by the Supreme Court.
But even if one ignores all these failings and returns to the question of intent, that “the State’s executive decree clearly interferes with the free exercise of religion — and does so seemingly based on nothing more than fear and anger at those who harbor unpopular religious beliefs,” it is necessary to ask whether Gorsuch will apply the same zeal, the same broad standard, to coming lawsuits involving state legislation targeting voting rights as he has to religious liberty.























image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.