The Supreme Court may be preparing to redraw not just district maps, but the very rules that have governed race-based redistricting for decades. In Louisiana v. Callais, justices returned to a foundational constitutional question: How long can race serve as a guiding factor in the construction of congressional districts before it begins to violate the very principles it once sought to defend?
At the center of Wednesday's oral arguments was a quietly seismic question posed by Justice Brett Kavanaugh: When, if ever, does the use of race in redistricting reach its expiration date? It's a question with enormous implications—not just for Louisiana, but for how the Voting Rights Act (VRA) is applied nationwide.
Rally outside the court after the justices heard Louisiana v. Callais. @DailyCaller pic.twitter.com/vxgcCT3Kjy
— Katelynn Richardson (@katesrichardson) October 15, 2025
Kavanaugh's inquiry wasn’t just procedural—it was philosophical. Drawing on past precedent, he pointed out that race-based remedies have long been treated by the Court as temporary, remedial tools. The assumption, historically, was that once the effects of discrimination were mitigated, the need for explicitly race-conscious solutions would fade. But as Kavanaugh pressed, “What exactly do you think the endpoint should be?”
The answer from NAACP Legal Defense Fund President Janai Nelson was unequivocal: there shouldn’t be one. She argued that the ongoing legacy of disenfranchisement and modern-day vote dilution justifies continued use of the VRA to craft majority-black districts. “We only have the diversity we see across the South because of litigation,” Nelson said, underscoring how legal challenges have historically been essential in securing black political representation.
Louisiana has become a crucible for this clash of ideals. The state’s decision to add a second majority-black congressional district in early 2024—following years of litigation—has been challenged as a racial gerrymander by non-black voters. But the broader debate is more nuanced than race alone. Justices, including Samuel Alito and Amy Coney Barrett, probed whether the redistricting map served racial goals or simply reflected partisan strategies. After all, political affiliation in the U.S. is often closely correlated with race—but the motivations behind redistricting aren't always so cleanly divided.
As the justices debated whether creating a second black-majority district in Louisiana reflects unconstitutional racial engineering or a lawful remedy to systemic vote dilution, one key precedent loomed large: Allen v. Milligan (2023), in which the Court upheld a similar mandate in Alabama. That case, backed by both Roberts and Kavanaugh, suggested that Section 2 of the VRA still had teeth. But Wednesday’s argument revealed a potential recalibration—especially as some justices questioned whether race-based remedies must eventually give way to race-neutral solutions.
Justice Jackson just compared black people not being able to create majority black congressional districts to disabled people not being able to enter a building before the ADA.
"They don't have equal access to the voting system. They're disabled." pic.twitter.com/zvN8bJf4Xc
— Greg Price (@greg_price11) October 15, 2025
Liberal justices like Elena Kagan and Sonia Sotomayor pushed back, arguing that Section 2 litigation addresses current discrimination, not merely historical wounds. “Race is always a part of these decisions,” Sotomayor noted, emphasizing the real-world effects of voting structures that dilute minority power.
Yet as the Court wrestles with whether Section 2 of the VRA can continue to justify the intentional creation of majority-minority districts, another constitutional lodestar—the Equal Protection Clause of the 14th Amendment—looms large. Can a state intentionally use race to shape electoral maps without violating the equal treatment principle enshrined in the Constitution?
That’s the fault line where this case rests—and where a major legal and political precedent could soon shift.