author: Justice Kagan

text:
    [564 U.S. 299]
    KEITH SMITH, et al., Petitioners v BAYER CORPORATION
    564 U.S. 299, 131 S. Ct. 2368,
    180 L. Ed. 2d 341,
    2011 U.S. LEXIS 4559
    [No. 09-1205]
    Argued January 18, 2011.
    Decided June 16, 2011.

      APPEARANCES OF COUNSEL ARGUING CASE
    Richard A. Monahan argued the cause for petitioners.
    Philip S. Beck argued the cause for respondent.

      Kagan, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Roberts, C. J., and Scalia, Kennedy, Ginsburg, Breyer, Alito, and Sotomayor, JJ., joined, and in which Thomas, J., joined as to Parts I and II-A.
   OPINION OF THE COURT

[564 U.S. 302]

Justice Kagan

delivered the opinion of the Court.

In this case, a Federal District Court enjoined a state court from considering a plaintiffs request to approve a class action. The District Court did so because it had earlier denied a motion to certify a class in a related case, brought by a different plaintiff against the same defendant alleging similar claims. The federal court thought its injunction appropriate to prevent relitigation of the issue it had decided.

We hold to the contrary. In issuing this order to a state court, the federal court exceeded its authority under the “relitigation exception” to the Anti-Injunction Act. That statutory provision permits a federal court to enjoin a state proceeding only in rare cases, when necessary to “protect or effectuate [the federal court’s] judgments.” 28 U.S.C. § 2283. Here, that standard was not met for two reasons. First, the issue presented in the state court was not identical to the one decided in the federal tribunal. And second, the plaintiff in the state court did not have the requisite connection to the federal suit to be bound by the District Court’s judgment.

I

Because the question before us involves the effect of a former adjudication on this case, we begin our statement of the facts not with this lawsuit, but with another. In August 2001, George McCollins sued respondent Bayer Corporation in the Circuit Court of Cabell County, West Virginia, asserting various state-law claims arising from Bayer’s sale of an allegedly hazardous prescription drug called Baycol (which Bayer withdrew from the market that same month). McCollins contended that Bayer had violated West Virginia’s consumer protection statute and the company’s express and implied

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warranties by selling him a defective product. And pursuant to West Virginia Rule of Civil Procedure 23 (2011), McCollins asked the state court to certify a class of West Virginia residents who had also purchased Baycol, so that the case could proceed as a class action.

Approximately one month later, the suit now before us began in a different part of West Virginia. Petitioners Keith Smith and Shirley Sperlazza (Smith for short) filed state-law claims against Bayer, similar to those raised in McCollins’ suit, in the Circuit Court of Brooke County, West Virginia. And like McCollins, Smith asked the court to certify under West Virginia’s Rule 23 a class of Baycol purchasers residing in the State. Neither Smith nor McCollins knew about the other’s suit.

In January 2002, Bayer removed McCollins’ case to the United States District Court for the Southern District of West Virginia on the basis of diversity jurisdiction. See 28 U.S.C. §§ 1332, 1441. The case was then transferred to the District of Minnesota pursuant to a preexisting order of the Judicial Panel on Multi-District Litigation, which had consolidated all federal suits involving Baycol (numbering in the tens of thousands) before a single District Court Judge. See § 1407. Bayer, however, could not remove Smith’s case to federal court because Smith had sued several West Virginia defendants in addition to Bayer, and so the suit lacked complete diversity. See § 1441(b). Smith’s suit thus remained in the state courthouse in Brooke County.

Over the next six years, the two cases proceeded along their separate pretrial paths at roughly the same pace. By 2008, both courts were preparing to turn to their respective plaintiffs’ motions for class certification. The Federal District Court was the first to reach a decision.

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Applying Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 23, the District Court declined to certify McCollins’ proposed class of West Virginia Baycol purchasers. The District Court’s reasoning proceeded in two steps. The court first ruled that, under West Virginia law, each plaintiff would have to prove “actual injury” from his use of Baycol to recover. App. to Pet. for Cert. 44a. The court then held that because the necessary showing of harm would vary from plaintiff to plaintiff, “individual issues of fact predominate [d]” over issues common to all members of the proposed class, and so the case was not suitable for class treatment. Id., at 45a. In the same order, the District Court also dismissed McCollins’ claims on the merits in light of his failure to demonstrate physical injury from his use of Baycol. McCol-lins chose not to appeal.

Although McCollins’ suit was now concluded, Bayer asked the District Court for another order based upon it, this one affecting Smith’s case in West Virginia. In a motion—receipt of which first apprised Smith of McCol-lins’ suit—Bayer explained that the proposed class in Smith’s case was identical to the one the federal court had just rejected. Bayer therefore requested that the federal court enjoin the West Virginia state court from hearing Smith’s motion to certify a class. According to Bayer, that order was appropriate to protect the District Court’s judgment in McCollins’ suit denying class certification. The District Court agreed and granted the injunction.

The Court of Appeals for the Eighth Circuit affirmed. In re Baycol Prods. Litigation, 593 F.3d 716 (2010). The court noted that the Anti-Injunction Act generally prohibits federal courts from enjoining state court proceedings. But the court held that the Act’s relitigation exception authorized

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the injunction here because ordinary rules of issue preclusion barred Smith from seeking certification of his proposed class. According to the court, Smith was invoking a similar class action rule as McCollins had used to seek certification “of the same class” in a suit alleging “the same legal theories,” id., at 724; the issue in the state court therefore was “sufficiently identical” to the one the federal court had decided to warrant preclusion, ibid. In addition, the court held, the parties in the two proceedings were sufficiently alike: Because Smith was an unnamed member of the class Mc-Collins had proposed, and because their “interests were aligned,” Smith was appropriately bound by the federal court’s judgment. Ibid.

We granted certiorari, 561 U.S. 1057, 131 S. Ct. 61, 177 L. Ed. 2d 1150 (2010), because the order issued here implicates two circuit splits arising from application of the Anti-Injunction Act’s relitigation exception. The first involves the requirement of preclusion law that a subsequent suit raise the “same issue” as a previous case. The second concerns the scope of the rule that a court’s judgment cannot bind nonparties. We think the

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District Court erred on both grounds when it granted the injunction, and we now reverse.

II

The Anti-Injunction Act, first enacted in 1793, provides:

“A court of the United States may not grant an injunction to stay proceedings in a State court except as expressly authorized by Act of Congress, or where necessary in aid of its jurisdiction, or to protect or effectuate its judgments.” 28 U.S.C. § 2283.

The statute, we have recognized, “is a necessary concomitant of the Framers’ decision to authorize, and Congress’ decision to implement, a dual system of federal and state courts.” Chick Kam Choo v. Exxon Corp., 486 U.S. 140, 146, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127 (1988). And the Act’s core message is one of respect for state courts. The Act broadly commands that those tribunals “shall remain free from interference by federal courts.” Atlantic Coast Line R. Co. v. Locomotive Engineers, 398 U.S. 281, 282, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234 (1970). That edict is subject to only “three specifically defined exceptions.” Id., at 286, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234. And those exceptions, though designed for important purposes, “are narrow and are ‘not [to] be enlarged by loose statutory construction.’ ” Chick Kam Choo, 486 U.S., at 146, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127 (quoting Atlantic Coast Line, 398 U.S., at 287, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234; alteration in original). Indeed, “[a]ny doubts as to the propriety of a federal injunction against state court proceedings should be resolved in favor of permitting the state courts to proceed.” Id., at 297, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234.

This case involves the last of the Act’s three exceptions, known as the relitigation exception. That exception is designed to implement “well-recognized concepts” of claim and issue preclusion. Chick Kam Choo, 486 U.S., at 147, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127. The provision authorizes an injunction to prevent state litigation of a claim or issue “that previously was presented to and decided by the federal court.” Ibid. But in applying this exception, we have taken special care to keep it “strict and

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narrow.” Id., at 148, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127. After all, a court does not usually “get to dictate to other courts the preclusion consequences of its own judgment.” 18 C. Wright, A. Miller, & E. Cooper, Federal Practice and Procedure § 4405, p. 82 (2d ed. 2002) (hereinafter Wright & Miller). Deciding whether and how prior litigation has preclusive effect is usually the bailiwick of the second court (here, the one in West Virginia). So issuing an injunction under the reliti-gation exception is resorting to heavy artillery. For that reason, every benefit of the doubt goes toward the state court, see Atlantic Coast Line, 398 U.S., at 287, 297, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234; an injunction can issue only if preclusion is clear beyond peradventure.

The question here is whether the federal court’s rejection of McCollins’ proposed class precluded a later adjudication in state court of Smith’s certification motion. For the federal court’s determination of the class issue to have this preclusive effect, at least two conditions must be met. First, the issue the federal court decided must be the same as the one presented in the state tribunal. See 18 Wright & Miller

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§ 4417, at 412. And second, Smith must have been a party to the federal suit, or else must fall within one of a few discrete exceptions to the general rule against binding nonparties. See 18A id., § 4449, at 330. In fact, as we will explain, the issues before the two courts were not the same, and Smith was neither a party nor the exceptional kind of non-party who can be bound. So the courts below erred in finding the certification issue precluded, and erred all the more in thinking an injunction appropriate.

A

In our most recent case on the re-litigation exception, Chick Kam Choo v. Exxon, we applied the “same issue” requirement of preclusion law to invalidate a federal court’s injunction. 486 U.S., at 151, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127. The federal court had dismissed a suit involving Singapore law on grounds of forum non conveni-ens. After the plaintiff brought the same claim in Texas state court, the federal court issued an injunction barring the plaintiff from pursuing relief in that alternate forum. We held that the District Court had gone too far. “[A]n essential prerequisite for applying the relitigation exception,” we explained, “is that the . . . issues which the federal injunction insulates from litigation in state proceedings actually have been decided by the federal court.” Id., at 148, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127. That prerequisite, we thought, was not satisfied because the issue to be adjudicated in state court was not the one the federal court had resolved. The federal court had considered the permissibility of the claim under federal forum non conveniens principles. But the Texas courts, we thought, “would apply a significantly different forum non con-veniens analysis,” id., at 149, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127; they had in prior cases rejected the strictness of the federal doctrine. Our conclusion

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followed: “[W]hether the Texas state courts are an appropriate forum for [the plaintiffs] Singapore law claims has not yet been litigated.” Ibid. Because the legal standards in the two courts differed, the issues before the courts differed, and an injunction was unwarranted.

The question here closely resembles the one in Chick Kam Choo. The class Smith proposed in state court mirrored the class McCollins sought to certify in federal court: Both included all Baycol purchasers resident in West Virginia. Moreover, the substantive claims in the two suits broadly overlapped: Both complaints alleged that Bayer had sold a defective product in violation of the State’s consumer protection law and the company’s warranties. So far, so good for preclusion. But not so fast: a critical question—the question of the applicable legal standard—remains. The District Court ruled that the proposed class did not meet the requirements of Federal Rule 23 (because individualized issues would predominate over common ones). But the state court was poised to consider whether the proposed class satisfied West Virginia Rule 23. If those two legal standards differ (as federal and state forum non conveniens law differed in Chick Kam Choo)—then the federal court resolved an issue not before the state court. In that event, much like in Chick Kam Choo, “whether the [West Virginia] state cour[t]” should certify the proposed class action “has not yet been litigated.” 486 U.S., at 149, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127.

The Court of Appeals and Smith offer us two competing ways of deciding whether the West Virginia and Federal Rules differ, but we think the right path lies somewhere in the middle. The Eighth Circuit relied almost exclusively on the near-identity of the two Rules’ texts. See 593 F.3d, at 723. That was the right place to start, but not to end. Federal and state courts, after all, can and do apply identically worded procedural provisions in widely varying ways. If a State’s procedural provision tracks the language of a Federal Rule, but a state court interprets that provision in a manner

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federal courts have not, then the state court is using a different standard and thus deciding a different issue. See 18 Wright & Miller § 4417, at 454 (stating that preclusion is “inappropriate” when “different legal standards . . . masquerad[e] behind similar legal labels”). At the other extreme, Smith contends that the source of law is all that matters: a different sovereign must in each and every case “ ‘have the opportunity, if it chooses, to construe its procedural rule differently.’ ” Brief for Petitioners 22 (quoting ALI, Principles of the Law, Aggregate Litigation § 2.11, Reporters’ Notes, Comment b, p. 179 (2010)). But if state courts have made crystal clear that they follow the same approach as the federal court applied, we see no need to ignore that determination; in that event, the issues in the two cases would indeed be the same. So a federal court considering whether the relitigation exception applies should examine whether state law parallels its federal counterpart. But as suggested earlier, see supra, at 307, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 349, the federal court must resolve any uncertainty on that score by leaving the question of preclusion to the state courts.

Under this approach, the West Virginia Supreme Court has gone some way toward resolving the matter before us by declaring its independence from federal courts’ interpretation of the Federal Rules—and particularly of Rule 23. In In re W. Va. Rezulin Litigation, 214 W. Va. 52, 585 S.E.2d 52 (2003) (In re Rezulin), the West Virginia high court considered a plaintiffs motion to certify a class— coincidentally enough, in a suit about an allegedly defective pharmaceutical product. The court made a point of complaining about the parties’ and lower court’s near-exclusive reliance on federal cases about Federal Rule 23 to decide the certification question. Such cases, the court cautioned, “ ‘may be persuasive, but [they are] not binding or controlling.’ ” Id., at 61, 585 S.E.2d, at 61. And lest anyone mistake the import of this message, the court went on: The aim of “this rule is to avoid having our legal analysis of our Rules ‘amount to

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nothing more than Pavlovian responses to federal decisional law.’ ” Ibid. (emphasis deleted). Of course, the state courts might still have adopted an approach to their Rule 23 that tracked the analysis the federal court used in Mc-Collins’ case. But absent clear evidence that the state courts had done so, we could not conclude that they would interpret their Rule in the same way. And if that is so, we could not tell whether the certification issues in the state and federal courts were the same. That uncertainty would preclude an injunction.

But here the case against an injunction is even stronger, because the West Virginia Supreme Court has disapproved, the approach to Rule 23(b)(3)’s predominance requirement that the Federal District Court embraced. Recall that the federal court held that the presence of a single individualized issue—injury from the use of Baycol—prevented class certification. See supra, at 304, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 348. The court did not identify the common issues in the case; nor did it balance these common issues against the need to prove individual injury to determine which predominated. The court instead applied a strict test barring class treatment when proof of each plaintiffs injury is necessary. By contrast, the West Virginia Supreme Court in In re Rezulin adopted an all-things-considered, balancing inquiry in interpreting its Rule 23. Rejecting any “rigid test,” the state court opined that the predominance requirement “contemplates a review of many factors.” 214 W. Va., at 72, 585 S.E.2d, at 72. Indeed, the court noted, a “ ‘single common issue’ ” in a case could outweigh “ ‘numerous . . . individual questions.’ ” Ibid. That meant, the court further explained (quoting what it termed

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the “leading treatise” on the subject), that even objections to certification “ ‘based on . . . causation, or reliance’ ”—which typically involve showings of individual injury—“ ‘will not bar predominance satisfaction.’ ” Ibid. (quoting 2 A. Conte & H. Newberg, Newberg on Class Actions § 4.26, p. 241 (4th ed. 2002)). So point for point, the analysis set out in In re Rezulin diverged from the District Court’s interpretation of Federal Rule 23. A state court using the In re Rezulin standard would decide a different question than the one the federal court had earlier resolved.

This case, indeed, is little more than a rerun of Chick Kam Choo. A federal court and a state court apply different law. That means they decide distinct questions. The federal court’s resolution of one issue does not preclude the state court’s determination of another. It then goes without saying that the federal court may not issue an injunction. The Anti-Injunction Act’s /'e-litigation exception does not extend nearly so far.

B

The injunction issued here runs into another basic premise of preclusion law: A court’s judgment binds only the parties to a suit, subject to a handful of discrete and limited exceptions. See, e.g., 18A Wright & Miller § 4449, at 330. The

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importance of this rule and the narrowness of its exceptions go hand in hand. We have repeatedly “emphasize [d] the fundamental nature of the general rule” that only parties can be bound by prior judgments; accordingly, we have taken a “constrained approach to non-party preclusion.” Taylor v. Sturgell, 553 U.S. 880, 898, 128 S. Ct. 2161, 171 L. Ed. 2d 155 (2008). Against this backdrop, Bayer defends the decision below by arguing that Smith—an unnamed member of a proposed but un-certified class—qualifies as a party to the McCollins litigation. See Brief for Respondent 32-34. Alternatively, Bayer claims that the District Court’s judgment binds Smith under the recognized exception to the rule against nonparty preclusion for members of class actions. See id., at 34-39. We think neither contention has merit.

Bayer’s first claim ill-comports with any proper understanding of what a “party” is. In general, “[a] ‘party’ to litigation is ‘[o]ne by or against whom a lawsuit is brought,’ ” United States ex rel. Eisenstein v. City of New York, 556 U.S. 928, 933, 129 S. Ct. 2230, 173 L. Ed. 2d 1255 (2009), or one who “become [s] a party by intervention, substitution, or third-party practice,” Karcher v. May, 484 U.S. 72, 77, 108 S. Ct. 388, 98 L. Ed. 2d 327 (1987). And we have further held that an unnamed member of a certified class may be “considered a ‘party’ for the [particular] purpos[e] of appealing” an adverse judgment. Devlin v. Scardelletti, 536 U.S. 1, 7, 122 S. Ct. 2005, 153 L. Ed. 2d 27 (2002). But as the dissent in Devlin noted, no one in that case was “willing to advance the novel and surely erroneous argument that a nonnamed class member is a party to the class-action litigation before the class is certified.” Id., at 16, n. 1, 122 S. Ct. 2005, 153 L. Ed. 2d 27 (opinion of Scalia, J.). Still less does that argument make sense once certification is denied. The definition of the term “party” can on no account be stretched so far as to cover a person like Smith, whom the plaintiff in a lawsuit was denied leave to represent. If the judgment in the McCol-lins litigation

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can indeed bind Smith, it must do so under principles of non-party preclusion.

As Bayer notes, see Brief for Respondent 37, one such principle allows unnamed members of a class action to be bound, even though they are not parties to the suit. See Cooper v. Federal Reserve Bank of Richmond, 467 U.S. 867, 874, 104 S. Ct. 2794, 81 L. Ed. 2d 718 (1984) (“[U]nder elementary principles of prior adjudication a judgment in a properly entertained class action is binding on class members in any subsequent litigation”); see also Taylor, 553 U.S., at 894, 128 S. Ct. 2161, 171 L. Ed. 2d 155 (stating that nonparties can be bound in “properly conducted class actions”). But here Bayer faces a conundrum. If we know one thing about the McCol-lins suit, we know that it was not a class action. Indeed, the very ruling that Bayer argues ought to be given preclusive effect is the District Court’s decision that a class could not properly be certified. So Bayer wants to bind Smith as a member of a class action (because it is only as such that a nonparty in Smith’s situation can be bound) to a determination that there could not be a class action. And if the logic of that position is not immediately transparent, here is Bayer’s attempt to clarify: “[U]ntil the moment when class certification was denied, the McCollins case was a properly conducted class action.” Brief for Respondent 37. That is true, according to Bayer, because McCollins’ interests were aligned with the members of the class he proposed and he

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“act[ed] in a representative capacity when he sought class certification.” Id., at 36.

But wishing does not make it so. McCollins sought class certification, but he failed to obtain that result. Because the District Court found that individual issues predominated, it held that the action did not satisfy Federal Rule 23’s requirements for class proceedings. In these circumstances, we cannot say that a properly conducted class action existed at any time in the litigation. Federal Rule 23 determines what is and is not a class action in federal court, where McCol-lins brought his suit. So in the absence of a certification under that Rule, the precondition for binding Smith was not met. Neither a proposed class action nor a rejected class action may bind nonparties. What does have this effect is a class action approved under Rule 23. But McCollins’ lawsuit was never that.

We made essentially these same points in Taylor v. Sturgell just a few Terms ago. The question there concerned the propriety of binding non-parties under a theory of “virtual representation” based on “identity of interests and some kind of relationship between parties and nonparties.” 553 U.S., at 901, 128 S. Ct. 2161, 171 L. Ed. 2d 155. We rejected the theory unanimously, explaining that it “would Vecogniz[e], in effect, a common-law kind of class action.’ ” Ibid. Such a device, we objected, would authorize preclusion “shorn of [Rule 23’s] procedural protections.” Ibid. Or as otherwise stated in the opinion: We could not allow “circumvent[ion]” of Rule 23’s protections through a “virtual representation doctrine that allowed courts to ‘create de facto class actions at will.’ ” Ibid. We could hardly have been more clear that a “properly conducted class action,” with binding effect on nonparties, can come about in federal courts in just one way—through the procedure set out in Rule 23. Bayer attempts to distinguish Taylor by noting that the party in the prior litigation there did not propose a class action. But we do not see why that difference matters. Yes, McCollins wished to represent a

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class, and made a motion to that effect. But it did not come to pass. To allow McCollins’ suit to bind nonparties would be to adopt the very theory Taylor rejected.

Bayer’s strongest argument comes not from established principles of preclusion, but instead from policy concerns relating to use of the class action device. Bayer warns that under our approach class counsel can repeatedly try to certify the same class “by the simple expedient of changing the named plaintiff in the caption of the complaint.” Brief for Respondent 47-48. And in this world of “serial relitigation of class certification,” Bayer contends, defendants “would be forced in effect to buy litigation peace by settling.” Id., at 2, 12; see also In re Bridgestone/Firestone, Inc., Tires Prods. Liability Litigation, 333 F.3d 763, 767 (CA7 2003) (objecting to “an asymmetric system in which class counsel can win but never lose” because of their ability to relitigate the issue of certification).

But this form of argument flies in the face of the rule against nonparty preclusion. That rule perforce leads to relitigation of many issues, as plaintiff after plaintiff after plaintiff (none precluded by the last judgment because none a party to the last suit) tries his hand at establishing some legal principle or obtaining some grant of relief. We confronted a similar policy concern in Taylor, which involved

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litigation brought under the Freedom of Information Act (FOIA). The Government there cautioned that unless we bound nonparties a “ ‘potentially limitless’ ” number of plaintiffs, perhaps coordinating with each other, could “mount a series of repetitive lawsuits” demanding the selfsame documents. 553 U.S., at 903, 128 S. Ct. 2161, 171 L. Ed. 2d 155. But we rejected this argument, even though the payoff in a single successful FOIA suit—disclosure of documents to the public—could “trum[p]” or “subsum[e]” all prior losses, just as a single successful class certification motion could do. In re Bridgestone/Firestone, 333 F.3d, at 766, 767. As that response suggests, our legal system generally relies on principles of stare decisis and comity among courts to mitigate the sometimes substantial costs of similar litigation brought by different plaintiffs. We have not thought that the right approach (except in the discrete categories of cases we have recognized) lies in binding nonparties to a judgment.

And to the extent class actions raise special problems of relitigation, Congress has provided a remedy that does not involve departing from the usual rules of preclusion. In the Class Action Fairness Act of 2005 (CAFA), 28 U.S.C. §§ 1332(d), 1453 (2006 ed. and Supp. III), Congress enabled defendants to remove to federal court any sizable class action involving minimal diversity of citizenship. Once removal takes place, Federal Rule 23 governs certification. And federal courts may consolidate multiple overlapping suits against a single defendant in one court (as the Judicial Panel on Multi-District Litigation did for the many actions involving Baycol). See § 1407. Finally, we would expect federal courts to apply principles of comity to each other’s class certification decisions when addressing a common dispute. See, e.g., Cortez Byrd Chips, Inc. v. Bill Harbert Constr. Co., 529 U.S. 193, 198, 120 S. Ct. 1331, 146 L. Ed. 2d 171 (2000) (citing Landis v. North American Co., 299 U.S. 248, 254, 57 S. Ct. 163, 81 L. Ed. 153 (1936)). CAFA may be cold comfort to Bayer with respect to suits like this one beginning before its enactment. But Congress’s decision to address the relitigation

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concerns associated with class actions through the mechanism of removal provides yet another reason for federal courts to adhere in this context to longstanding principles of preclusion. And once again, that is especially so when the federal court is deciding whether to go so far as to enjoin a state proceeding.

The Anti-Injunction Act prohibits the order the District Court entered here. The Act’s relitigation exception authorizes injunctions only when a former federal adjudication clearly precludes a state court decision. As we said more than 40 years ago, and have consistently maintained since that time, “[a]ny doubts . . . should be resolved in favor of permitting the state courts to proceed.” Atlantic Coast Line, 398 U.S., at 297, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234. Under this approach, close cases have easy answers: The federal court should not issue an injunction, and the state court should decide the preclusion question. But this case does not even strike us as close. The issues in the federal and state lawsuits differed because the relevant legal standards differed. And the mere proposal of a class in the federal action could not bind persons who were not parties there. For these reasons, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed.

       Justice Thomas joins Parts I and II-A of this opinion.

      . The Class Action Fairness Act of 2005, 119 Stat. 4, which postdates and therefore does not govern this lawsuit, now enables a defendant to remove to federal court certain class actions involving nondiverse parties. See 28 U.S.C. §§ 1332(d), 1453(b); see also infra, at 317-318, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 355-356.

      . Although McCollins had originally sought certification under W. Va. Rule of Civ. Proc. 23 (2011), federal procedural rules govern a case that has been removed to federal court. See Shady Grove Orthopedic Associates, P. A. v. Allstate Ins. Co., 559 U.S. 393, 130 S. Ct. 1431, 176 L. Ed. 2d 311 (2010).

      . Compare In re Baycol Prods. Litigation, 593 F.3d 716, 723 (CA8 2010) (case below) (holding that two cases involve the same issue when “[t]he state and federal [class] certification rules . . . are not significantly different”), with J. R. Clearwater Inc. v. Ashland Chemical Co., 93 F.3d 176, 180 (CA5 1996) (holding that two cases implicate different issues even when “[the state rule] is modeled on . . . the Federal Rules” because a “[state] court might well exercise [its] discretion in a different manner”).

      . Compare 593 F.3d, at 724 (“[T]he denial of class certification is binding on unnamed [putative] class members” because they are “in privity to [the parties] in the prior action”), and In re Bridgestone/Firestone, Inc., Tires Prods. Liability Litigation, 333 F.3d 763, 768-769 (CA7 2003) (same), with In re Ford Motor Co., 471 F.3d 1233, 1245 (CA11 2006) (holding that “[t]he denial of class certification” prevents a court from “binding” anyone other than “the parties appearing before it”), and In re General Motors Corp. Pick-Up Truck Fuel Tank Prods. Liability Litigation, 134 F.3d 133, 141 (CA3 1998) (holding that putative “class members are not parties” and so cannot be bound by a court’s ruling when “there is no class pending”).

      . That is especially so because an injunction is not the only way to correct a state trial court’s erroneous refusal to give preclusive effect to a federal judgment. As we have noted before, “the state appellate courts and ultimately this Court’’ can review and reverse such a ruling. Atlantic Coast Line R. Co. v. Locomotive Engineers, 398 U.S. 281, 287, 90 S. Ct. 1739, 26 L. Ed. 2d 234 (1970).

      . We have held that federal common law governs the preclusive effect of a decision of a federal court sitting in diversity. See Semtek Int’l Inc. v. Lockheed Martin Corp., 531 U.S. 497, 508, 121 S. Ct. 1021, 149 L. Ed. 2d 32 (2001). Smith assumes that federal common law should here incorporate West Virginia’s preclusion law, see Brief for Petitioners 15-16, whereas Bayer favors looking only to federal rules of preclusion because of the federal interests at stake in this case, see Brief for Respondent 18. We do not think the question matters here. Neither party identifies any way in which federal and state principles of preclusion law differ in any relevant respect. Nor have we found any such divergence. Compare, e.g., Montana v. United States, 440 U.S. 147, 153-154, 99 S. Ct. 970, 59 L. Ed. 2d 210 (1979) (describing elements of issue preclusion), with State v. Miller, 194 W. Va. 3, 9, 459 S.E.2d 114, 120 (1995) (same). We therefore need not decide whether, in general, federal common law ought to i ncorporate state law in situations such as this.

      . Because we rest our decision on the Anti-Injunction Act and the principles of issue preclusion that inform it, we do not consider Smith’s argument, based on Phillips Petroleum Co. v. Shutts, 472 U.S. 797, 105 S. Ct. 2965, 86 L. Ed. 2d 628 (1985), that the District Court’s action violated the Due Process Clause.

      . The District Court’s approach to the predominance inquiry is consistent with the approach employed by the Eighth Circuit. See In re St. Jude Medical, Inc., 522 F.3d 836, 837-840 (2008) (holding that most commercial misrepresentation cases are “unsuitable for class treatment’’ because individual issues of reliance necessarily predominate). We express no opinion as to the correctness of this approach.

      . Bayer argues that In re Rezulin does not preclude an injunction in this case because the West Virginia court there decided that common issues predominated over individual issues of damages, not over individual issues of liability (as exist here). See Brief for Respondent 25-26. We think Bayer is right about this distinction, but wrong about its consequence. Our point is not that In re Rezulin dictates the answer to the class certification question here; the two cases are indeed too dissimilar for that to be true. The point instead is that In re Rezulin articulated a general approach to the predominance requirement that differs markedly from the one the federal court used. Minor variations in the application of what is in essence the same legal standard do not defeat preclusion; but where, as here, the State’s courts “would apply a significantly different . . . analysis," Chick Kam Choo v. Exxon Corp., 486 U.S. 140, 149, 108 S. Ct. 1684, 100 L. Ed. 2d 127 (1988), the federal and state courts decide different issues.

      . In support of its claim that Smith counts as a party, Bayer cites two cases in which we held that a putative member of an uncertified class may wait until after the court rules on the certification motion to file an individual claim or move to intervene in the suit. See Brief for Respondent 32-33 (citing United Airlines, Inc. v. McDonald, 432 U.S. 385, 97 S. Ct. 2464, 53 L. Ed. 2d 423 (1977); American Pipe & Constr. Co. v. Utah, 414 U.S. 538, 94 S. Ct. 756, 38 L. Ed. 2d 713 (1974)). But these cases, which were specifically grounded in policies of judicial administration, demonstrate only that a person not a party to a class suit may receive certain benefits (such as the tolling of a limitations period) related to that proceeding. See id., at 553, 94 S. Ct. 756, 38 L. Ed. 2d 713; McDonald, 432 U.S., at 394, n. 15, 97 S. Ct. 2464, 53 L. Ed. 2d 423. That result is consistent with a commonplace of preclusion law—that nonparties sometimes may benefit from, even though they cannot be bound by, former litigation. See Parklane Hosiery Co. v. Shore, 439 U.S. 322, 326-333, 99 S. Ct. 645, 58 L. Ed. 2d 552 (1979); Blonder-Tongue Laboratories, Inc. v. University of Ill. Foundation, 402 U.S. 313, 91 S. Ct. 1434, 28 L. Ed. 2d 788 (1971).

      . The great weight of scholarly authority—from the Restatement of Judgments to the American Law Institute to Wright and Miller—agrees that an uncertified class action cannot bind proposed class members. See Restatement (Second) of Judgments §41(1), p. 393 (1980) (A nonparty may be bound only when his interests are adequately represented by “[t]he representative of a class of persons similarly situated, designated as such with the approval of the court”); ALI, Principles ofthe Law Aggregate Litigation § 2.11, Reporters’Notes, Comment 6, p. 181 (2010) (“[N]one of [the exceptions to the rule against nonparty preclusion] extend generally to the situation of a would-be absent class member with respect to a denial of class certification”); 18A Wright & Miller § 4455, at 457-458 (“[A]bsent certification there is no basis for precluding a nonparty” under the class action exception).

      . By the same token, nothing in our holding today forecloses legislation to modify established principles of preclusion should Congress decide that CAPA does not sufficiently prevent relitigation of class certification motions. Nor does this opinion at all address the permissibility of a change in the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure pertaining to this question. Cf. n. 7, supra (declining to reach Smith’s due process claim).


source: Caselaw Access Project

author: Justice Kagan Justice Sotomayor,

license: Public Domain

text:
    [564 U.S. 319]
    ALEJANDRA TAPIA, Petitioner v UNITED STATES
    564 U.S. 319, 131 S. Ct. 2382,
    180 L. Ed. 2d 357,
    2011 U.S. LEXIS 4556
    [No. 10-5400]
    Argued April 18, 2011.
    Decided June 16, 2011.

      APPEARANCES OF COUNSEL ARGUING CASE
    Reuben C. Cahn argued the cause for petitioner.
    Matthew D. Roberts argued the cause for respondent supporting vacatur.
    Stephanos Ribas argued the cause as amicus curiae, by special leave of court.

      Kagan, J., delivered the opinion for a unanimous Court. Sotomayor, J., filed a concurring opinion, in which Alito, J., joined.
   OPINION OF THE COURT

[564 U.S. 321]

Justice Kagan

delivered the opinion of the Court.

We consider here whether the Sentencing Reform Act precludes federal courts from imposing or lengthening a prison term in order to promote a criminal defendant’s rehabilitation. We hold that it does.

I

Petitioner Alejandra Tapia was convicted of, inter alia, smuggling unauthorized aliens into the United States, in violation of 8 U.S.C. §§ 1324(a)(2)(B)(ii) and (iii). At sentencing, the District Court determined that the United States Sentencing Guidelines recommended a prison term of between 41 and 51 months for Tapia’s offenses. The court decided to impose a 51-month term, followed by three years of supervised release. In explaining its reasons, the court referred several times to Tapia’s need for drug treatment, citing in particular the Bureau of Prison’s Residential Drug

[564 U.S. 322]

Abuse Program (known as RDAP or the 500 Hour Drug Program). The court indicated that Tapia should serve a prison term long enough to qualify for and complete that program:

“The sentence has to be sufficient to provide needed correctional treatment, and here I think the needed correctional treatment is the 500 Hour Drug Program.
“Here I have to say that one of the factors that—I am going to impose a 51-month sentence, . . . and one of the factors that affects this is the need to provide treatment. In other words, so she is in long enough to get the 500 Hour Drug Program, number one.” App. 27.

(“Number two” was “to deter her from committing other criminal offenses.” Ibid.) The court “strongly recommend [ed]” to the Bureau of Prisons (BOP) that Tapia “participate in [RDAP] and that she serve her sentence at” the Federal Correctional Institution in Dublin, California (FCI Dublin), where “they have the appropriate tools ... to help her, to start to make a recovery.” Id., at 29. Tapia did not object to the sentence at that time. Id., at 31.

On appeal, however, Tapia argued that the District Court had erred in lengthening her prison term to make her eligible for RDAP. 376 Fed. Appx. 707, 708 (CA9 2010). In Tapia’s view, this action violated 18 U.S.C. § 3582(a), which instructs sentencing courts to “recogniz[e] that imprisonment is not an appropriate means of promoting correction and rehabilitation.” The United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit disagreed, 376 Fed. Appx. 707 (2010), relying on its prior decision in United States v. Duran, 37 F.3d 557 (1994). The Ninth Circuit had held there that § 3582(a) distinguishes between deciding to impose a term of imprisonment and determining its length. See id., at 561. According to Duran, a sentencing court cannot impose a prison term to assist a defendant’s rehabilitation. But “[o]nce imprisonment is chosen as a punishment,” the court may consider

[564 U.S. 323]

the defendant’s need for rehabilitation in setting the length of the sentence. Ibid.

We granted certiorari to consider whether § 3582(a) permits a sentencing court to impose or lengthen a prison term in order to foster a defendant’s rehabilitation. 562 U.S. 1104, 131 S. Ct. 817, 178 L. Ed. 2d 551 (2010). That question has divided the Courts of Appeals. Because the United States agrees with Tapia’s interpretation of the statute, we appointed an amicus curiae to defend the judgment below. We now reverse.

II

We begin with statutory background—how the relevant sentencing provisions came about and what they say. Aficionados of our sentencing decisions will recognize much of the story line.

“For almost a century, the Federal Government employed in criminal cases a system of indeterminate sentencing.” Mistretta v. United States, 488 U.S. 361, 363, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714 (1989). Within “customarily wide” outer boundaries set by Congress, trial judges exercised “almost unfettered discretion” to select prison sentences for federal offenders. Id., at 364, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714. In the usual case, a judge also could reject prison time altogether, by imposing a “suspended” sentence. If the judge decided to impose a prison term, discretionary authority shifted to parole officials: Once the defendant had spent a third of his term behind bars, they could order his release. See K.

[564 U.S. 324]

Stith & J. Cabranes, Fear of Judging: Sentencing Guidelines in the Federal Courts 18-20 (1998).

This system was premised on a faith in rehabilitation. Discretion allowed “the judge and the parole officer to [base] their respective sentencing and release decisions upon their own assessments of the offender’s amenability to rehabilitation.” Mistretta, 488 U.S., at 363, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714. A convict, the theory went, should generally remain in prison only until he was able to reenter society safely. His release therefore often coincided with “the successful completion of certain vocational, educational, and counseling programs within the prisons.” S. Rep. No. 98-225, p. 40 (1983) (hereinafter S. Rep.). At that point, parole officials could “determin[e] that [the] prisoner had become rehabilitated and should be released from confinement.” Stith & Cabranes, supra, at 18.

But this model of indeterminate sentencing eventually fell into disfavor. One concern was that it produced “[s]erious disparities in [the] sentences” imposed on similarly situated defendants. Mistretta, 488 U.S., at 365, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714. Another was that the system’s attempt to “achieve rehabilitation of offenders had failed.” Id., at 366, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714. Lawmakers and others increasingly doubted that prison programs could “rehabilitate individuals on a routine basis”—or that parole officers could

[564 U.S. 325]

“determine accurately whether or when a particular prisoner ha[d] been rehabilitated.” S. Rep., at 40.

Congress accordingly enacted the Sentencing Reform Act of 1984, 98 Stat. 1987 (SRA or Act), to overhaul federal sentencing practices. The Act abandoned indeterminate sentencing and parole in favor of a system in which Sentencing Guidelines, promulgated by a new Sentencing Commission, would provide courts with “a range of determinate sentences for categories of offenses and defendants.” Mistretta, 488 U.S., at 368, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714. And the Act further channeled judges’ discretion by establishing a framework to govern their consideration and imposition of sentences.

Under the SRA, a judge sentencing a federal offender must impose at least one of the following sanctions: imprisonment (often followed by supervised release), probation, or a fine. See § 3551(b). In determining the appropriate sentence from among these options, § 3553(a)(2) requires the judge to consider specified factors, including:

“the need for the sentence imposed—
“(A) to reflect the seriousness of the offense, to promote respect for the law, and to provide just punishment for the offense;
“(B) to afford adequate deterrence to criminal conduct;
“(C) to protect the public from further crimes of the defendant; and
“(D) to provide the defendant with needed educational or vocational training, medical care, or other correctional treatment in the most effective manner.”

These four considerations—retribution, deterrence, incapacitation, and rehabilitation—are the four purposes of sentencing generally, and a court must fashion a sentence “to achieve the[se] purposes ... to the extent that they are applicable” in a given case. § 3551(a).

The SRA then provides additional guidance about how the considerations listed in § 3553(a)(2) pertain to each of the

[564 U.S. 326]

Act’s main sentencing options—imprisonment, supervised release, probation, and fines. See § 3582(a); § 3583; § 3562(a); § 3572(a). These provisions make clear that a particular purpose may apply differently, or even not at all, depending on the kind of sentence under consideration. For example, a court may not take account of retribution (the first purpose listed in § 3553(a)(2)) when imposing a term of supervised release. See § 3583(c).

Section 3582(a), the provision at issue here, specifies the “factors to be considered” when a court orders imprisonment. That section provides:

“The court, in determining whether to impose a term of imprisonment, and, if a term of imprisonment is to be imposed, in determining the length of the term, shall consider the factors set forth in section 3553(a) to the extent that they are applicable, recognizing that imprisonment is not an appropriate means of promoting correction and rehabilitation.”

A similar provision addresses the Sentencing Commission in its capacity as author of the Sentencing Guidelines. The SRA instructs the Commission to:

“insure that the guidelines reflect the inappropriateness of imposing a sentence to a term of imprisonment for the purpose of rehabilitating the defendant or providing the defendant with needed educational or vocational training, medical care, or other correctional treatment.” 28 U.S.C. § 994(k).

With this statutory background established, we turn to the matter of interpretation.

III

A

Our consideration of Tapia’s claim starts with the text of 18 U.S.C. § 3582(a)—and given the clarity of that provision’s language, could end there as well. As just noted, that section

[564 U.S. 327]

instructs courts to “recogniz[e] that imprisonment is not an appropriate means of promoting correction and rehabilitation.” A common—and in context the most natural—definition of the word “recognize” is “to acknowledge or treat as valid.” Random House Dictionary of the English Language 1611 (2d ed. 1987). And a thing that is not “appropriate” is not “suitable or fitting for a particular purpose.” Id., at 103. Putting these two definitions together, § 3582(a) tells courts that they should acknowledge that imprisonment is not suitable for the purpose of promoting rehabilitation. And when should courts acknowledge this? Section 3582(a) answers: when “determining whether to impose a term of imprisonment, and, if a term of imprisonment is to be imposed, [when] determining the length of the term.” So a court making these decisions should consider the specified rationales of punishment except for rehabilitation, which it should acknowledge as an unsuitable justification for a prison term.

As against this understanding, am-icus argues that § 3582(a)’s “recognizing” clause is not a flat prohibition but only a “reminder” or a “guide [for] sentencing judges’ cognitive processes.” Brief for Court-Appointed Amicus Curiae in Support of Judgment Below 23-24 (hereinafter Amicus Brief) (emphasis deleted). Amicus supports this view by offering a string of other definitions of the word “recognize”: “ ‘recall to mind,’ ‘realize,’ or ‘perceive clearly.’ ” Id., at 24 (quoting dictionary definitions). Once these are plugged in, amicus suggests, § 3582(a) reveals itself as a kind of loosey-goosey caution not to put too much faith in the capacity of prisons to rehabilitate.

But we do not see how these alternative meanings of “recognize” help amicus’s cause. A judge who “perceives clearly” that imprisonment is not an appropriate means of promoting rehabilitation would hardly incarcerate someone for that purpose. Ditto for a judge who “realizes” or “recalls” that imprisonment is not a way to rehabilitate an offender. To be sure, the drafters of the “recognizing” clause

[564 U.S. 328]

could have used still more commanding language: Congress could have inserted a “thou shalt not” or equivalent phrase to convey that a sentencing judge may never, ever, under any circumstances consider rehabilitation in imposing a prison term. But when we interpret a statute, we cannot allow the perfect to be the enemy of the merely excellent. Congress expressed itself clearly in § 3582(a), even if armchair legislators might come up with something even better. And what Congress said was that when sentencing an offender to prison, the court shall consider all the purposes of punishment except rehabilitation—because imprisonment is not an appropriate means of pursuing that goal.

Amicus also claims, echoing the Ninth Circuit’s reasoning in Duran, that § 3582(a)’s “recognizing” clause bars courts from considering rehabilitation only when imposing a prison term, and not when deciding on its length. The argument goes as follows. Section 3582(a) refers to two decisions: “The court, [1] in determining whether to impose a term of imprisonment, and, if a term of imprisonment is to be imposed, [2] in determining the length of the term” must consider the purposes of punishment listed in § 3553(a)(2), subject to the caveat of the “recognizing” clause. But that clause says only that “imprisonment” is not an appropriate means of rehabilitation. Because the “primary meaning of ‘imprisonment’ is ‘the act of confining a person,’ ” amicus argues, the clause relates only to [1] the decision to incarcerate, and not to [2] the separate determination of the sentence’s length. Amicus Brief 52.

We again disagree. Under standard rules of grammar, § 3582(a) says: A sentencing judge shall recognize that imprisonment is not appropriate to promote rehabilitation when the court considers the applicable factors of § 3553(a)(2); and a court considers these factors when determining both whether to imprison an offender and what length of term to give him. The use of the word “imprisonment” in the “recognizing” clause does not destroy—but instead

[564 U.S. 329]

fits neatly into—this construction. “Imprisonment” as used in the clause most naturally means “ [t]he state of being confined” or “a period of confinement.” Black’s Law Dictionary 825 (9th ed. 2009); see also Webster’s Third New International Dictionary 1137 (1993) (the “state of being imprisoned”). So the word does not distinguish between the defendant’s initial placement behind bars and his continued stay there. As the D. C. Circuit noted in rejecting an identical argument, “[a] sentencing court deciding to keep a defendant locked up for an additional month is, as to that month, in fact choosing imprisonment over release.” In re Sealed Case, 573 F.3d 844, 850 (2009). Accordingly, the word “imprisonment” does not change the function of the “recognizing” clause—to constrain a sentencing court’s decision both to impose and to lengthen a prison term.

The context of § 3582(a) puts an exclamation point on this textual conclusion. As noted earlier, supra, at 326, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 366, another provision of the SRA restates § 3582(a)’s message, but to a different audience. That provision, 28 U.S.C. § 994(k), directs the Sentencing Commission to ensure that the Guidelines “reflect the inappropriateness of imposing a sentence to a term of imprisonment for the purpose of rehabilitating the defendant or providing the defendant with needed educational

[564 U.S. 330]

or vocational training, medical care, or other correctional treatment.” In this way, Congress ensured that all sentencing officials would work in tandem to implement the statutory determination to “reject imprisonment as a means of promoting rehabilitation.” Mistretta, 488 U.S., at 367, 109 S. Ct. 647, 102 L. Ed. 2d 714 (citing 28 U.S.C. § 994(k)). Section 994(k) bars the Commission from recommending a “term of imprisonment”—a phrase that again refers both to the fact and to the length of incarceration—based on a defendant’s rehabilitative needs. And § 3582(a) prohibits a court from considering those needs to impose or lengthen a period of confinement when selecting a sentence from within, or choosing to depart from, the Guidelines range. Each actor at each stage in the sentencing process receives the same message: Do not think about prison as a way to rehabilitate an offender.

Equally illuminating here is a statutory silence—the absence of any provision granting courts the power to ensure that offenders participate in prison rehabilitation programs. For when Congress wanted sentencing courts to take account of rehabilitative needs, it gave courts the authority to direct appropriate treatment for offenders. Thus, the SRA instructs courts, in deciding whether to impose probation or supervised release, to consider whether an offender could benefit from training and treatment programs. See 18 U.S.C. § 3562(a); § 3583(c). And so the SRA also authorizes courts, when imposing those sentences, to order an offender’s participation in certain programs and facilities. § 3563(b)(9); § 3563(b)(11); § 3563(a)(4); § 3583(d). As a condition of probation, for example, the court may require the offender to “undergo available medical, psychiatric, or psychological treatment, including treatment for drug or alcohol dependency, as specified by the court, and [to] remain in a specified institution if required for that purpose.” § 3563(b)(9).

If Congress had similarly meant to allow courts to base prison terms on offenders’ rehabilitative needs, it would have given courts the capacity to ensure that offenders participate

[564 U.S. 331]

in prison correctional programs. But in fact, courts do not have this authority. When a court sentences a federal offender, the BOP has plenary control, subject to statutory constraints, over “the place of the prisoner’s imprisonment,” § 3621(b), and the treatment programs (if any) in which he may participate, §§ 3621(e), (f); § 3624(f). See also 28 CFR pt. 544 (2010) (BOP regulations for administering inmate educational, recreational, and vocational programs); 28 CFR pt. 550, subpart F (drug abuse treatment programs). A sentencing court can recommend that the BOP place an offender in a particular facility or program. See § 3582(a). But decisionmaking authority rests with the BOP.

This case well illustrates the point. As noted earlier, the District Court “strongly recommend [ed]” that Tapia participate in RDAP, App. 29, and serve her sentence at FCI Dublin, “where they have the facilities to really help her,” id., at 28. But the court’s recommendations were only recommendations—and in the end they had no effect. See Amicus Brief 42 (“[Tapia] was not admitted to RDAP, nor even placed in the prison recommended by the district court”); Reply Brief for United States 8, n. 1 (“According to BOP records, [Tapia] was encouraged to enroll [in RDAP] during her psychology intake screening at [the federal prison], but she stated that she was not interested, and she has not volunteered for the program”). The sentencing court may have had plans for Tapia’s rehabilitation, but it lacked the power to implement them. That incapacity speaks volumes. It indicates that Congress did not intend that courts consider offenders’ rehabilitative needs when imposing prison sentences.

Finally, for those who consider legislative history useful, the key Senate Report concerning the SRA provides one last piece of corroborating evidence. According to that Report, decades of experience with indeterminate sentencing, resulting in the release of many inmates after they completed correctional programs, had left Congress skeptical that “rehabilitation

[564 U.S. 332]

can be induced reliably in a prison setting.” S. Rep., at 38. Although some critics argued that “rehabilitation should be eliminated completely as a purpose of sentencing,” Congress declined to adopt that categorical position. Id., at 76. Instead, the Report explains, Congress barred courts from considering rehabilitation in imposing prison terms, ibid., and n. 165, but not in ordering other kinds of sentences, ibid., and n. 164. “[T]he purpose of rehabilitation,” the Report stated, “is still important in determining whether a sanction other than a term of imprisonment is appropriate in a particular case.” See id., at 76-77 (emphasis added).

And so this is a case in which text, context, and history point to the same bottom line: Section 3582(a) precludes sentencing courts from imposing or lengthening a prison term to promote an offender’s rehabilitation.

B

With all these sources of statutory meaning stacked against him, amicus understandably tries to put the SRA’s view of rehabilitation in a wholly different frame. Amicus begins by conceding that Congress, in enacting the SRA, rejected the old “[r]ehabilitation [m]odel.” Amicus Brief 1. But according to amicus, that model had a very limited focus: It was the belief that “isolation and prison routine” could alone produce “penitence and spiritual renewal.” Id., at 1, 11. What the rehabilitation model did not include— and the SRA therefore did not reject— was prison treatment programs (including for drug addiction) targeted to offenders’particular needs. See id., at 21, 25, 27-28. So even after the passage of § 3582(a), amicus argues, a court may impose or lengthen a prison sentence to promote an offender’s participation in a targeted treatment program. The only thing the court may not do is to impose a prison term on the ground that confinement itself—its inherent solitude and routine—will lead to rehabilitation.

[564 U.S. 333]

We think this reading of the SRA is too narrow. For one thing, the relevant history shows that at the time of the SRA’s enactment, prison rehabilitation efforts focused on treatment, counseling, and training programs, not on seclusion and regimentation. See Rotman, The Failure of Reform: United States, 1865-1965, in Oxford History of the Prison: The Practice of Punishment in Western Society 169, 189-190 (N. Morris & D. Rothman eds. 1995) (describing the pre-SRA “therapeutic model of rehabilitation” as characterized by “individualized treatment” and “vocational training and group counseling programs”); see also n. 3, supra (noting pre-SRA statutes linking the confinement of drug addicts to the completion of treatment programs). Indeed, Congress had in mind precisely these programs when it prohibited consideration of rehabilitation in imposing a prison term. See 28 U.S.C. § 994(k) (instructing the Sentencing Commission to prevent the use of imprisonment to “provid [e] the defendant with needed educational or vocational training ... or other correctional treatment”); S. Rep., at 40 (rejecting the “model of ‘coercive’ rehabilitation—the theory of correction that ties prison release dates to the successful completion of certain vocational, educational, and counseling programs within the prisons”). Far from falling outside the “rehabilitation model,” these programs practically defined it.

It is hardly surprising, then, that amicus’s argument finds little support in the statutory text. Read most naturally, 18 U.S.C. § 3582(a)’s prohibition on “promoting correction and rehabilitation” covers efforts to place offenders in rehabilitation programs. Indeed, § 3582(a)’s language recalls the SRA’s description of the rehabilitative purpose of sentencing—“providing] the defendant with needed educational or vocational training, medical care, or other correctional treatment.” § 3553(a)(2)(D). That description makes clear that, under the SRA, treatment, training, and like programs are rehabilitation’s sum and substance. So amicus’s efforts to exclude rehabilitation programs from the “recognizing”

[564 U.S. 334]

clause’s reach do not succeed. That section prevents a sentencing court from imposing or lengthening a prison term because the court thinks an offender will benefit from a prison treatment program.

IV

In this case, the sentencing transcript suggests the possibility that Tapia’s sentence was based on her rehabilitative needs.

We note first what we do not disapprove about Tapia’s sentencing. A court commits no error by discussing the opportunities for rehabilitation within prison or the benefits of specific treatment or training programs. To the contrary, a court properly may address a person who is about to begin a prison term about these important matters. And as noted earlier, a court may urge the BOP to place an offender in a prison treatment program. See supra, at 331, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 369. Section 3582(a) itself provides, just after the clause at issue here, that a court may “make a recommendation concerning the type of prison facility appropriate for the defendant”; and in this calculus, the presence of a rehabilitation program may make one facility more appropriate than another. So the sentencing court here did nothing wrong—and probably something very right—in trying to get Tapia into an effective drug treatment program.

But the record indicates that the court may have done more—that it may have selected the length of the sentence to ensure that Tapia could complete the 500 Hour Drug Program. “The sentence has to be sufficient,” the court explained, “to provide needed correctional treatment, and here I think the needed correctional treatment is the 500 Hour Drug Program.” App. 27; see supra, at 321-322, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 363-364. Or again: The “number one” thing “is the need to provide treatment. In other words, so she is in long enough to get the 500 Hour Drug Program.” App. 27; see supra, at 322, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 364. These statements suggest that the court may have calculated the length

[564 U.S. 335]

of Tapia’s sentence to ensure that she receive certain rehabilitative services. And that a sentencing court may not do. As we have held, a court may not impose or lengthen a prison sentence to enable an offender to complete a treatment program or otherwise to promote rehabilitation.

For the reasons stated, we reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals and remand the case for further proceedings consistent with this opinion. Consistent with our practice, see, e.g., United States v. Marcus, 560 U.S. 258, 266-267, 130 S. Ct. 2159, 176 L. Ed. 2d 1012 (2010), we leave it to the Court of Appeals to consider the effect of Tapia’s failure to object to the sentence when imposed. See Fed. Rule Crim. Proc. 52(b); United States v. Olano, 507 U.S. 725, 731, 113 S. Ct. 1770, 123 L. Ed. 2d 508 (1993).

It is so ordered.

SEPARATE OPINION

Justice Sotomayor,

with whom Justice Alito joins, concurring.

I agree with the Court’s conclusion that 18 U.S.C. § 3582(a) “precludes federal courts from imposing or lengthening a prison term in order to promote a criminal defendant’s rehabilitation.” Ante, at 321, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 363. I write separately to note my skepticism that the District Judge violated this proscription in this case.

At the sentencing hearing, the District Judge carefully reviewed the sentencing factors set forth in § 3553(a). First, he considered “[t]he nature and circumstances of the offense” committed by petitioner Alejandra Tapia—in this case, alien smuggling. App. 25-26; see § 3553(a)(1). He emphasized that Tapia’s criminal conduct “created a substantial risk of death or serious bodily injury” to the smuggled aliens. Id., at 26; see also id., at 20 (noting that the aliens were secreted in the vehicle’s gas tank compartment). Second, he reviewed Tapia’s “history and characteristics,” § 3553(a)(1), including her history of being abused and her associations “with the wrong people,” id., at 26. He noted his particular concern about Tapia’s criminal conduct while released on bail, when

[564 U.S. 336]

she failed to appear and was found in an apartment with methamphetamine, a sawed-off shotgun, and stolen mail. Id., at 25-26. Third, he noted that the offense was “serious,” warranting a “sufficient” sentence. Id., at 26; see § 3553(a)(2)(A). Fourth, he considered the need “to deter criminal conduct” and “to protect the public from further crimes of the defendant,” which he characterized as a “big factor here, given [Tapia’s] failure to appear and what she did out on bail.” Id., at 26; see §§ 3553(a)(2)(B), (C). Fifth, he took account of the need “to provide needed correctional treatment,” in this case, the Bureau of Prisons’ (BOP) “500 Hour Drug Program,” more officially called the Residential Drug Abuse Treatment Program (RDAP). Id., at 27; see § 3553(a)(2)(D). And, finally, he noted the need “to avoid unwarranted sentencing disparities” and the need for the sentence “to be sufficient to effect the purposes of 3553(a) but not greater.” Id., at 27; see §§ 3553(a), (a)(6).

Tapia faced a mandatory minimum sentence of 36 months’ incarceration, Id., at 18, but her Guidelines range was 41 to 51 months, id., at 13. After reviewing the § 3553(a) factors, the judge imposed a sentence of 51 months, the top of the Guidelines range. He offered two reasons for choosing this sentence: “number one,” the need for drug treatment; and “[n]umber two,” deterrence. Id., at 27. With respect to the latter reason, the judge highlighted Tapia’s criminal history and her criminal conduct while released on bail—which, he said, was “something that motivates imposing a sentence that in total is at the high end of the guideline range.” Id., at 27-28. He concluded, “I think that a sentence less than what I am imposing would not deter her and provide for sufficient time so she could begin to address these problems.” Id., at 28.

The District Judge’s comments at sentencing suggest that he believed the need to deter Tapia from engaging in further criminal conduct warranted a sentence of 51 months’ incarceration. Granted, the judge also mentioned the need to

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provide drug treatment through the RDAP. The 51-month sentence he selected, however, appears to have had no connection to eligibility for the RDAP See BOP Program Statement No. P5330.11, § 2.5.1(b) (Mar. 16, 2009) (providing that, to participate in the RDAP, an inmate must ordinarily have at least 24 months remaining on her sentence). Even the 36-month mandatory minimum would have qualified Tapia for participation in the RDAP. I thus find it questionable that the judge lengthened her term of imprisonment beyond that necessary for deterrence in the belief that a 51-month sentence was necessary for rehabilitation. Cf. S. Rep. No. 98-225, p. 176 (1983) (“A term imposed for another purpose of sentencing may . . . have a rehabilitative focus if rehabilitation in such a case is an appropriate secondary purpose of the sentence”).

Although I am skeptical that the thoughtful District Judge imposed or lengthened Tapia’s sentence to promote rehabilitation, I acknowledge that his comments at sentencing were not perfectly clear. Given that Ninth Circuit precedent incorrectly permitted sentencing courts to consider rehabilitation in setting the length of a sentence, see ante, at 322-323, 180 L. Ed. 2d, at 364, and that the judge stated that the sentence needed to be “long enough to get the 500 Hour Drug Program,” App. 27, I cannot be certain that he did not lengthen Tapia’s sentence to promote rehabilitation in violation of § 3582(a). I therefore agree with the Court’s disposition of this case and join the Court’s opinion in full.

      . Three Circuits have held that § 3582(a) allows a court to lengthen, although not to impose, a prison term based on the need for rehabilitation. See United States v. Duran, 37 F.3d 557 (CA9 1994); United States v. Hawk Wing, 433 F.3d 622 (CA8 2006); United States v. Jimenez, 605 F.3d 415 (CA6 2010). Two Courts of Appeals have ruled that § 3582(a) bars a court from either imposing or increasing a period of confinement for rehabilitative reasons. See United States v. Manzella, 475 F.3d 152 (CA3 2007); In re Sealed Case, 573 F.3d 844 (CADC 2009).

      . We appointed Stephanos Bibas to brief and argue the case, 562 U.S. 1132, 131 S. Ct. 975, 178 L. Ed. 2d 744 (2011), and he has ably discharged his responsibilities.

      . The statutes governing punishment of drug-addicted offenders (like Tapia) provide an example of this system at work. If a court concluded that such an offender was “likely to be rehabilitated through treatment,’’ it could order confinement “for treatment . . . for an indeterminate period of time’’ not to exceed the lesser of 10 years or the statutory maximum for the offender’s crime. 18 U.S.C. § 4253(a) (1982 ed.); see also § 4251(c) (“ ‘Treatment’ includes confinement and treatment in an institution . . . and includes, but is not limited to, medical, educational, social, psychological, and vocational services, corrective and preventive guidance and training, and other rehabilitative services’’). Once the offender had undergone treatment for six months, the Attorney General could recommend that the Board of Parole release him from custody, and the Board could then order release “in its discretion." § 4254.

      . Indeed, we can scarcely imagine a reason why Congress would have wanted to draw the distinction that amicus urges on us. That distinction would prevent a court from considering rehabilitative needs in imposing a 1-month sentence rather than probation, but not in choosing a 60-month sentence over a 1-month term. The only policy argument amicus can offer in favor of this result is that “[t]he effects of imprisonment plateau a short while after the incarceration” and “ ‘[t]he difference in harm between longer and shorter prison terms is smaller than typically assumed.’ "Amicus Brief 56. But nothing in the SRA indicates that Congress is so indifferent to the length of prison terms.

      . The Government argues that “Congress did not intend to prohibit courts from imposing less imprisonment in order to promote a defendant’s rehabilitation.” Brief for United States 40 (emphasis added). This case does not require us to address that question, and nothing in our decision expresses any views on it.