author: Justice Rehnquist Justice Stevens,

text:
    DANIELS v. WILLIAMS
    No. 84-5872.
    Argued November 6, 1985
    Decided January 21, 1986
    Rehnquist, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which Burger, C. J., and Brennan, White, Powell, and O’Connor, JJ., joined. Marshall, J., concurred in the result. Blackmun, J., post, p. 336, and Stevens, J., post, p. 336, filed opinions concurring in the judgment.

      Stephen Allan Saltzburg argued the cause and filed briefs for petitioner.

      James Walter Hopper argued the cause and filed a brief for respondent.
   Justice Rehnquist

delivered the opinion of the Court.

In Parrott v. Taylor, 451 U. S. 527 (1981), a state prisoner sued under 42 U. S. C. § 1983, claiming that prison officials had negligently deprived him of his property without due process of law. After deciding that § 1983 contains no independent state-of-mind requirement, we concluded that although petitioner had been “deprived” of property within the meaning of the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, the State’s postdeprivation tort remedy provided the process that was due. Petitioner’s claim in this case, which also rests on an alleged Fourteenth Amendment “deprivation” caused by the negligent conduct of a prison official, leads us to reconsider our statement in Parrott that “the alleged loss, even though negligently caused, amounted to a deprivation.” Id., at 536-537. We conclude that the Due Process Clause is simply not implicated by a negligent act of an official causing unintended loss of or injury to life, liberty, or property.

In this § 1983 action, petitioner seeks to recover damages for back and ankle injuries allegedly sustained when he fell on a prison stairway. He claims that, while an inmate at the city jail in Richmond, Virginia, he slipped on a pillow negligently left on the stairs by respondent, a correctional deputy stationed at the jail. Respondent’s negligence, the argument runs, “deprived” petitioner of his “liberty” interest in freedom from bodily injury, see Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S. 651, 673 (1977); because respondent maintains that he is entitled to the defense of sovereign immunity in a state tort suit, petitioner is without an “adequate” state remedy, cf. Hudson v. Palmer, 468 U. S. 517, 534-536 (1984). Accordingly, the deprivation of liberty was without “due process of law.”

The District Court granted respondent’s motion for summary judgment. A panel of the Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit affirmed, concluding that even if respondent could make out an immunity defense in state court, petitioner would not be deprived of a meaningful opportunity to present his case. 720 F. 2d 792 (1983). On rehearing, the en banc Court of Appeals affirmed the judgment of the District Court, but under reasoning different from that of the panel. 748 F. 2d 229 (1984). First, a 5-4 majority ruled that negligent infliction of bodily injury, unlike the negligent loss of property in Parratt, does not constitute a deprivation of any interest protected by the Due Process Clause. The majority therefore believed that the postdeprivation process mandated by Parratt for property losses was not required. Second, the en banc court unanimously decided that even if a prisoner is entitled to some remedy for personal injuries attributable to the negligence of state officials, Parratt would bar petitioner’s claim if the State provided an adequate postdeprivation remedy. Finally, a 6-3 majority concluded that petitioner had an adequate remedy in state court, even though respondent asserted that he would rely on sovereign immunity as a defense in a state suit. The majority apparently believed that respondent’s sovereign immunity defense would fail under Virginia law.

Because of the inconsistent approaches taken by lower courts in determining when tortious conduct by state officials rises to the level of a constitutional tort, see Jackson v. Joliet, 465 U. S. 1049, 1050 (1984) (White, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari) (collecting cases), and the apparent lack of adequate guidance from this Court, we granted certiorari. 469 U. S. 1207 (1985). We now affirm.

In Parratt v. Taylor, we granted certiorari, as we had twice before, “to decide whether mere negligence will support a claim for relief under §1983.” 451 U. S., at 532. After examining the language, legislative history, and prior interpretations of the statute, we concluded that § 1983, unlike its criminal counterpart, 18 U. S. C. §242, contains no state-of-mind requirement independent of that necessary to state a violation of the underlying constitutional right. Id., at 534-535. .We adhere to that conclusion. But in any given § 1983 suit, the plaintiff must still prove a violation of the underlying constitutional right; and depending on the right, merely negligent conduct may not be enough to state a claim. See, e. g., Arlington Heights v. Metropolitan Housing Dev. Corp., 429 U. S. 252 (1977) (invidious discriminatory purpose required for claim of racial discrimination under the Equal Protection Clause); Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S. 97, 105 (1976) (“deliberate indifference” to prisoner’s serious illness or injury sufficient to constitute cruel and unusual punishment under the Eighth Amendment).

In Parratt, before concluding that Nebraska’s tort remedy provided all the process that was due, we said that the loss of the prisoner’s hobby kit, “even though negligently caused, amounted to a deprivation [under the Due Process Clause].” 451 U. S., at 536-537. Justice Powell, concurring in the result, criticized the majority for “pass[ing] over” this important question of the state of mind required to constitute a “deprivation” of property. Id., at 547. He argued that negligent acts by state officials, though causing loss of property, are not actionable under the Due Process Clause. To Justice Powell, mere negligence could not “wor[k] a deprivation in the constitutional sense.” Id., at 548 (emphasis in original). Not only does the word “deprive” in the Due Process Clause connote more than a negligent act, but we should not “open the federal courts to lawsuits where there has been no affirmative abuse of power.” Id., at 548-549; see also id., at 545 (Stewart, J., concurring) (“To hold that this kind of loss is a deprivation of property within the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment seems not only to trivialize, but grossly to distort the meaning and intent of the Constitution”). Upon reflection, we agree and overrule Parratt to the extent that it states that mere lack of due care by a state official may “deprive” an individual of life, liberty, or property under the Fourteenth Amendment.

The Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment provides: “[N]or shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law.” Historically, this guarantee of due process has been applied to deliberate decisions of government officials to deprive a person of life, liberty, or property. E. g., Davidson v. New Orleans, 96 U. S. 97 (1878) (assessment of real estate); Rochin v. California, 342 U. S. 165 (1952) (stomach pumping); Bell v. Burson, 402 U. S. 535 (1971) (suspension of driver’s license); Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S. 651 (1977) (paddling student); Hudson v. Palmer, 468 U. S. 517 (1984) (intentional destruction of inmate’s property). No decision of this Court before Parratt supported the view that negligent conduct by a state official, even though causing injury, constitutes a deprivation under the Due Process Clause. This history reflects the traditional and common-sense notion that the Due Process Clause, like its forebear in the Magna Carta, see Corwin, The Doctrine of Due Process of Law Before the Civil War, 24 Harv. L. Rev. 366, 368 (1911), was “‘intended to secure the individual from the arbitrary exercise of the powers of government,’” Hurtado v. California, 110 U. S. 516, 527 (1884) (quoting Bank of Columbia v. Okely, 4 Wheat. 235, 244 (1819)). See also Wolff v. McDonnell, 418 U. S. 539, 558 (1974) (“The touchstone of due process is protection of the individual against arbitrary action of government, Dent v. West Virginia, 129 U. S. 114, 123 (1889)”); Parratt, supra, at 549 (Powell, J., concurring in result). By requiring the government to follow appropriate procedures when its agents decide to “deprive any person of life, liberty, or property,” the Due Process Clause promotes fairness in such decisions. And by barring certain government actions regardless of the fairness of the procedures used to implement them, e. g., Rochin, supra, it serves to prevent governmental power from being “used for purposes of oppression,” Murray’s Les see v. Hoboken Land & Improvement Co., 18 How. 272, 277 (1856) (discussing Due Process Clause of Fifth Amendment).

We think that the actions of prison custodians in leaving a pillow on the prison stairs, or mislaying an inmate’s property, are quite remote from the concerns just discussed. Far from an abuse of power, lack of due care suggests no more than a failure to measure up to the conduct of a reasonable person. To hold that injury caused by such conduct is a deprivation within the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment would trivialize the centuries-old principle of due process of law.

The Fourteenth Amendment is a part of a Constitution generally designed to allocate governing authority among the Branches of the Federal Government and between that Government and the States, and to secure certain individual rights against both State and Federal Government. When dealing with a claim that such a document creates a right in prisoners to sue a government official because he negligently created an unsafe condition in the prison, we bear in mind Chief Justice Marshall’s admonition that “we must never forget, that it is a constitution we are expounding,” McCulloch v. Maryland, 4 Wheat. 316, 407 (1819) (emphasis in original). Our Constitution deals with the large concerns of the governors and the governed, but it does not purport to supplant traditional tort law in laying down rules of conduct to regulate liability for injuries that attend living together in society. We have previously rejected reasoning that “‘would make of the Fourteenth Amendment a font of tort law to be superimposed upon whatever systems may already be administered by the States,’” Paul v. Davis, 424 U. S. 693, 701 (1976), quoted in Parratt v. Taylor, 451 U. S., at 544.

The only tie between the facts of this case and anything governmental in nature is the fact that respondent was a sheriff’s deputy at the Richmond city jail and petitioner was an inmate confined in that jail. But while the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment obviously speaks to some facets of this relationship, see, e. g., Wolff v. McDon nell, swpra, we do not believe its protections are triggered by lack of due care by prison officials. “Medical malpractice does not become a constitutional violation merely because the victim is a prisoner,” Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S. 97, 106 (1976), and “false imprisonment does not become a violation of the Fourteenth Amendment merely because the defendant is a state official.” Baker v. McCollan, 443 U. S. 137, 146 (1979). Where a government official’s act causing injury to life, liberty, or property is merely negligent, “no procedure for compensation is constitutionally required.” Parratt, swpra, at 548 (Powell, J., concurring in result) (emphasis added).

That injuries inflicted by governmental negligence are not addressed by the United States Constitution is not to say that they may not raise significant legal concerns and lead to the creation of protectible legal interests. The enactment of tort claim statutes, for example, reflects the view that injuries caused by such negligence should generally be redressed. It is no reflection on either the breadth of the United States Constitution or the importance of traditional tort law to say that they do not address the same concerns.

In support of his claim that negligent conduct can give rise to a due process “deprivation,” petitioner makes several arguments, none of which we find persuasive. He states, for example, that “it is almost certain that some negligence claims are within § 1983,” and cites as an example the failure of a State to comply with the procedural requirements of Wolff v. McDonnell, supra, before depriving an inmate of good-time credit. We think the relevant action of the prison officials in that situation is their deliberate decision to deprive the inmate of good-time credit, not their hypothetically negligent failure to accord him the procedural protections of the Due Process Clause. But we need not rule out the possibility that there are other constitutional provisions that would be violated by mere lack of care in order to hold, as we do, that such conduct does not implicate the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment.

Petitioner also suggests that artful litigants, undeterred by a requirement that they plead more than mere negligence, will often be able to allege sufficient facts to support a claim of intentional deprivation. In the instant case, for example, petitioner notes that he could have alleged that the pillow was left on the stairs with the intention of harming him. This invitation to “artful” pleading, petitioner contends, would engender sticky (and needless) disputes over what is fairly pleaded. What’s more, requiring complainants to allege something more than negligence would raise serious questions about what “more” than negligence — intent, recklessness, or “gross negligence” — is required, and indeed about what these elusive terms mean. See Reply Brief for Petitioner 9 (“what terms like willful, wanton, reckless or gross negligence mean” has “left the finest scholars puzzled”). But even if accurate, petitioner’s observations do not carry the day. In the first place, many branches of the law abound in nice distinctions that may be troublesome but have been thought nonetheless necessary:

“I do not think we need trouble ourselves with the thought that my view depends upon differences of degree. The whole law does so as soon as it is civilized.” LeRoy Fibre Co. v. Chicago, M. & St. P. R. Co., 232 U. S. 340, 354 (1914) (Holmes, J., partially concurring).

More important, the difference between one end of the spectrum — negligence—and the other — intent—is abundantly clear. See 0. Holmes, The Common Law 3 (1923). In any event, we decline to trivialize the Due Process Clause in an effort to simplify constitutional litigation.

Finally, citing South v. Maryland, 18 How. 396 (1856), petitioner argues that respondent’s conduct, even if merely negligent, breached a sheriff’s “special duty of care” for those in his custody. Reply Brief for Petitioner 14. The Due Process Clause, petitioner notes, “was intended to give Americans at least the protection against governmental power that they had enjoyed as Englishmen against the power of the crown.” Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S., at 672-673. And South v. Maryland suggests that one such protection was the right to recover against a sheriff for breach of his ministerial duty to provide for the safety of prisoners in his custody. 18 How., at 402-403. Due process demands that the State protect those whom it incarcerates by exercising reasonable care to assure their safety and by compensating them for negligently inflicted injury.

We disagree. We read South v. Maryland, supra, an action brought under federal diversity jurisdiction on a Maryland sheriff’s bond, as stating no more than what this Court thought to be the principles of common law and Maryland law applicable to that case; it is not cast at all in terms of constitutional law, and indeed could not have been, since at the time it was rendered there was no due process clause applicable to the States. Petitioner’s citation to Ingraham v. Wright does not support the notion that all common-law duties owed by government actors were somehow constitutionalized by the Fourteenth Amendment. Jailers may owe a special duty of care to those in their custody under state tort law, see Restatement (Second) of Torts § 314A(4) (1965), but for the reasons previously stated we reject the contention that the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment embraces such a tort law concept. Petitioner alleges that he was injured by the negligence of respondent, a custodial official at the city jail. Whatever other provisions of state law or general jurisprudence he may rightly invoke, the Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution does not afford him a remedy.

Affirmed.

Justice Marshall concurs in the result.

Justice Blackmun, concurring in the judgment.

I concur in the judgment. See my opinion in dissent in Davidson v. Cannon, post, p. 349.

Justice Stevens,

concurring in the judgments.

Two prisoners raise similar claims in these two cases. Both seek to recover for personal injuries suffered, in part, from what they allege was negligence by state officials. Both characterize their injuries as “deprivations of liberty” and both invoke 42 U. S. C. § 1983 as a basis for their claims.

Prisoner Roy Daniels was injured when he slipped on a newspaper and pillows left on a stairway in the Virginia jail where he is incarcerated; he alleges state negligence in the presence of the objects on the stairs. Prisoner Robert Davidson suffered injury when he was attacked by another inmate in the New Jersey prison where he is incarcerated; he alleges (and proved at trial) state negligence in the failure of prison authorities to prevent the assault after he had written a note expressing apprehension about the inmate who ultimately assaulted him. I agree with the majority that petitioners cannot prevail under § 1983. I do not agree, however, that it is necessary either to redefine the meaning of “deprive” in the Fourteenth Amendment, or to repudiate the reasoning of Parratt v. Taylor, 451 U. S. 527 (1981), to support this conclusion.

We should begin by identifying the precise constitutional claims that petitioners have advanced. It is not enough to note that they rely on the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, for that Clause is the source of three different kinds of constitutional protection. First, it incorporates specific protections defined in the Bill of Rights. Thus, the State, as well as the Federal Government, must comply with the commands in the First and Eighth Amendments; so too, the State must respect the guarantees in the Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Amendments. Second, it contains a substantive component, sometimes referred to as “substantive due process,” which bars certain arbitrary government actions “regardless of the fairness of the procedures used to implement them.” Ante, at 331. Third, it is a guarantee of fair procedure, sometimes referred to as “procedural due process”: the State may not execute, imprison, or fine a defendant without giving him a fair trial, nor may it take property without providing appropriate procedural safeguards.

The type of Fourteenth Amendment interest that is implicated has important effects on the nature of the constitutional claim and the availability of § 1983 relief. If the claim is in the first category (a violation of one of the specific constitutional guarantees of the Bill of Rights), a plaintiff may invoke § 1983 regardless of the availability of a state remedy. As explained in Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S. 167 (1961), this conclusion derives from the fact that the statute — the Ku Klux Act of 1871 — was intended to provide a federal remedy for the violation of a federal constitutional right. Thus, when the Fourth Amendment is violated, as in Pape, the provision of an independent federal remedy under § 1983 is necessary to satisfy the purpose of the statute.

Similarly, if the claim is in the second category (a violation of the substantive component of the Due Process Clause), a plaintiff may also invoke § 1983 regardless of the availability of a state remedy. For, in that category, no less than with the provisions of the Bill of Rights, if the Federal Constitution prohibits a State from taking certain actions “regardless of the fairness of the procedures used to implement them,” the constitutional violation is complete as soon as the prohibited action is taken; the independent federal remedy is then authorized by the language and legislative history of § 1983.

A claim in the third category — a procedural due process claim — is fundamentally different. In such a case, the deprivation may be entirely legitimate — a State may have every right to discharge a teacher or punish a student — but the State may nevertheless violate the Constitution by failing to provide appropriate procedural safeguards. The constitutional duty to provide fair procedures gives the citizen the opportunity to try to prevent the deprivation from happening, but the deprivation itself does not necessarily reflect any “abuse” of state power. Similarly, a deprivation may be the consequence of a mistake or a negligent act, and the State may violate the Constitution by failing to provide an appropriate procedural response. In a procedural due process claim, it is not the deprivation of property or liberty that is unconstitutional; it is the deprivation of property or liberty without due process of ¿aw — without adequate procedures.

Thus, even though the State may have every right to deprive a person of his property or his liberty, the individual may nevertheless be able to allege a valid § 1983 due process claim, perhaps because a predeprivation hearing must be held, or because the state procedure itself is fundamentally flawed. So too, even though a deprivation may be unauthorized, a procedural due process claim may be raised if it challenges the State’s procedures for preventing or redressing the deprivation. However, a complaint does not state a valid procedural due process objection — and a valid §1983 claim — if it does not include a challenge to the fundamental fairness of the State’s procedures. In consequence, when a predeprivation hearing is clearly not feasible, when the regime of state tort law provides a constitutionally unobjectionable system of recovery for the deprivation of property or liberty, and when there is no other challenge to the State’s procedures, a valid § 1983 claim is not stated. For, unlike cases in the other two categories —those in which the alleged deprivation violates a substantive federal right — if a procedural due process claim lacks a colorable objection to the validity of the State’s procedures, no constitutional violation has been alleged.

Petitioners’ claims are not of the first kind. Neither Daniels nor Davidson argues in this Court that the prison authorities’ actions violated specific constitutional guarantees incorporated by the Fourteenth Amendment. Neither now claims, for instance, that his rights under the Eighth Amendment were violated. Similarly, I do not believe petitioners have raised a colorable violation of “substantive due process.” Rather, their claims are of the third kind: Daniels and Davidson attack the validity of the procedures that Virginia and New Jersey, respectively, provide for prisoners who seek redress for physical injury caused by the negligence of corrections officers.

I would not reject these claims, as the Court does, by attempting to fashion a new definition of the term “deprivation” and excluding negligence from its scope. No serious question has been raised about the presence of “state action” in the allegations of negligence, and the interest in freedom from bodily harm surely qualifies as an interest in “liberty.” Thus, the only question is whether negligence by state actors can result in a deprivation. “Deprivation,” it seems to me, identifies, not the actor’s state of mind, but the victim’s infringement or loss. The harm to a prisoner is the same whether a pillow is left on a stair negligently, recklessly, or intentionally; so too, the harm resulting to a prisoner from an attack is the same whether his request for protection is ignored negligently, recklessly, or deliberately. In each instance, the prisoner is losing-being “deprived” of — an aspect of liberty as the result, in part, of a form of state action.

Thus, I would characterize each loss as a “deprivation” of liberty. Because the cases raise only procedural due process claims, however, it is also necessary to examine the nature of petitioners’ challenges to the state procedures. To prevail, petitioners must demonstrate that the state procedures for redressing injuries of this kind are constitutionally inadequate. Petitioners must show that they contain a defect so serious that we can characterize the procedures as fundamentally unfair, a defect so basic that we are forced to conclude that the deprivation occurred without due process.

Daniels’ claim is essentially the same as the claim we rejected in Parratt. The Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit determined that Daniels had a remedy for the claimed negligence under Virginia law. Although Daniels vigorously argues that sovereign immunity would have defeated his claim, the Fourth Circuit found to the contrary, and it is our settled practice to defer to the Courts of Appeals on questions of state law. It is true that Parratt involved an injury to “property” and that Daniels’ case involves an injury to “liberty,” but, in both cases, the plaintiff claimed nothing more than a “procedural due process” violation. In both cases, a predeprivation hearing was definitionally impossible. And, in both cases, the plaintiff had state remedies that permitted recovery if state negligence was established. Thus, a straightforward application of Parratt defeats Daniels’ claim.

Davidson’s claim raises a question not specifically addressed in Parratt. According to the Third Circuit, no state remedy was available because a New Jersey statute prohibits prisoner recovery from state employees for injuries inflicted by other prisoners. Thus, Davidson puts the question whether a state policy of noncompensability for certain types of harm, in which state action may play a role, renders a state procedure constitutionally defective. In my judgment, a state policy that defeats recovery does not, in itself, carry that consequence. Those aspects of a State’s tort regime that defeat recovery are not constitutionally invalid, so long as there is no fundamental unfairness in their operation. Thus, defenses such as contributory negligence or statutes of limitations may defeat recovery in particular cases without raising any question about the constitutionality of a State’s procedures for disposing of tort litigation. Similarly, in my judgment, the mere fact that a State elects to provide some of its agents with a sovereign immunity defense in certain cases does not justify the conclusion that its remedial system is constitutionally inadequate. There is no reason to believe that the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment and the legislation enacted pursuant to §5 of that Amendment should be construed to suggest that the doctrine of sovereign immunity renders a state procedure fundamentally unfair. Davidson’s challenge has been only to the fact of sovereign immunity; he has not challenged the difference in treatment of a prisoner assaulted by a prisoner and a non-prisoner assaulted by a prisoner, and I express no comment on the fairness of that differentiation.

Thus, although I believe that the harms alleged by Daniels and proved by Davidson qualify as deprivations of liberty, I am not persuaded that either has raised a violation of the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. I therefore concur in the judgments.

       Accordingly, we need not decide whether, as petitioner contends, the possibility of a sovereign immunity defense in a Virginia tort suit would render that remedy “inadequate” under Parratt and Hudson v. Palmer, 468 U. S. 517 (1984).

       See, e. g., the Virginia Tort Claims Act, Va. Code §8.01-195.1 et seq. (1984), which applies only to actions accruing on or after July 1, 1982, and hence is inapplicable to this case.

       Despite Ms claim about what he might have pleaded, petitioner concedes that respondent was at most negligent. Accordingly, this case affords us no occasion to consider whether something less than intentional conduct, such as recklessness or “gross negligence,” is enough to trigger the protections of the Due Process Clause.

      [This opinion applies also to Davidson v. Cannon et al., No. 84-6470, post, p. 344.]

       “[N]or shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law . . . .” U. S. Const., Amdt. 14.

       See, e. g., Douglas v. Jeannette, 319 U. S. 157 (1943).

       See, e. g, Robinson v. California, 370 U. S. 660 (1962).

       See, 0. g., Mapp v. Ohio, 367 U. S. 643 (1961).

       See, e. g., Malloy v. Hogan, 378 U. S. 1 (1964) (right to protection from compelled self-incrimination applies to States); Benton v. Maryland, 395 U. S. 784 (1969) (right to protection from double jeopardy applies to States).

       See, e. g., Duncan v. Louisiana, 391 U. S. 145 (1968) (right to jury trial applies to States).

       See also Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494 (1977); Youngberg v. Romeo, 457 U. S. 307 (1982).

       See, e. g., Groppi v. Leslie, 404 U. S. 496 (1972); In re Oliver, 333 U. S. 257 (1948).

       See, e. g., Fuentes v. Shevin, 407 U. S. 67 (1972).

       See, e. g., Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S. 167 (1961) (§1983 action for Fourth Amendment violation); Smith v. Wade, 461 U. S. 30 (1983) (§ 1983 action for Eighth Amendment violation). See generally McNeese v. Board of Education, 373 U. S. 668, 672 (1963) (§ 1983 is “supplementary to any remedy any State might have”).

       Cf. Parratt v. Taylor, 451 U. S. 527, 545 (1981) (Blackmun, J., concurring); Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973).

       See, e. g., Loudermill v. Cleveland Board of Education, 470 U. S. 532 (1985); Carey v. Piphus, 435 U. S. 247 (1978); Goss v. Lopez, 419 U. S. 565 (1975). Cf. Groppi, supra.

       Cf. Logan v. Zimmerman Brush Co., 455 U. S. 422, 436 (1982) (postdeprivation state remedy is inadequate when challenge is to “the state system itself”); Baker v. McCollan, 443 U. S. 137, 156 (1979) (Stevens, J., dissenting).

       See Hudson v. Palmer, 468 U. S. 517, 533 (1984) (“[W]hen deprivations of property are effected through random and unauthorized conduct of a state employee, predeprivation procedures are simply ‘impracticable’ since the state cannot know when such deprivations will occur”); Parratt v. Taylor, supra.

       See id, at 543-544.

       Davidson explicitly disavows a substantive due process claim. See Brief for Petitioner in No. 84-6470, p. 7 (“[P]etitioner frames his claim here purely in terms of procedural due process”). At oral argument, counsel for Daniels did suggest that he was pursuing a substantive due process claim. Tr. of Oral Arg. in No. 84-5872, p. 22. However, the Court of Appeals viewed Daniels’ claim as a procedural due process argument, see 748 F. 2d 229, 230, n. 1 (CA4 1984) (“There is no claim of any substantive due process violation”), and Daniels did not dispute this characterization in his petition for certiorari or in his brief on the merits.
      In any event, to the extent that petitioners’ arguments about the special obligations of prison officials may be read as a substantive due process claim, I agree with the Court, ante, at 335-336, that the sheriff’s “special duty of care” recognized in South v. Maryland, 18 How. 396 (1856), does not have its source in the Federal Constitution. In these circumstances, it seems to me, the substantive constitutional duties of prison officials to prisoners are defined by the Eighth Amendment, not by substantive due process. Cf. United States ex rel. Miller v. Twomey, 479 F. 2d 701, 719-721 (CA7 1973) (analyzing prison officials’ responsibilities to prevent inmate assaults under the Eighth Amendment), cert, denied sub nom. Gutierrez v. Department of Public Safety of Illinois, 414 U. S. 1146 (1974).

       Respondents in Davidson do raise a state-action objection in one sentence, Brief for Respondents in No. 84-6470, p. 13, n., but that bare reference is inadequate to mount a challenge to the undisturbed District Court finding of state action.

       See Haring v. Prosise, 462 U. S. 306, 314, n. 8 (1983); Leroy v. Great Western United Corp., 443 U. S. 173, 181, n. 11 (1979); Bishop v. Wood, 426 U. S. 341, 345-347 (1976); Propper v. Clark, 337 U. S. 472, 486-487 (1949).

       It borders on the absurd to suggest that a State must provide a hearing to determine whether or not a corrections officer should engage in negligent conduct.

       In Martinez v. California, 444 U. S. 277 (1980), we held that California’s immunity statute did not violate the Due Process Clause simply because it operated to defeat a tort claim arising under state law. The fact that an immunity statute does not give rise to a procedural due process claim does not, of course, mean that a State’s doctrine of sovereign immunity can protect conduct that violates a federal constitutional guarantee; obviously it cannot, see Martinez, supra, at 284, n. 8, quoting Hampton v. Chicago, 484 F. 2d 602, 607 (CA7 1973), cert. denied, 415 U. S. 917 (1974).


source: Caselaw Access Project

author:
Justice Rehnquist
      Justice Brennan, Justice Blackmun,

license: Public Domain

text:
    DAVIDSON v. CANNON et al.
    No. 84-6470.
    Argued November 6, 1985
    Decided January 21, 1986
    Rehnquist, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which BURGER, C. J., and White, Powell, and O’Connor, JJ., joined. Stevens, J., filed an opinion concurring in the judgment, ante, p. 336. Brennan, J., filed a dissenting opinion, post, p. 349. Blackmun, J., filed a dissenting opinion, in which MARSHALL, J., joined, post, p. 349.

      James Douglas Crawford argued the cause and filed a brief for petitioner.

      Madeleine Waters Mansier, Deputy Attorney General of New Jersey, argued the cause for respondents. With her on the brief were Irwin I. Kimmelman, Attorney General, and James J. Ciancia, Assistant Attorney General.

      Acting Solicitor General Fried argued the cause for the United States as amicus curiae urging affirmance. With him on the brief were Acting Assistant Attorney General Willard, Deputy Solicitor General Getter, Barbara L. Her-wig, and Douglas N. Letter.

        Fred E. Inbau, James P. Manak, Wayne W. Schmidt, Daniel B. Hales, and Courtney E. Evans filed a brief for Americans for Effective Law Enforcement, Inc., et al. as amici curiae urging affirmance.

   Justice Rehnquist

delivered the opinion of the Court.

Petitioner sued prison officials seeking damages under 42 U. S. C. § 1983 for injuries he suffered when they negligently failed to protect him from another inmate. On December 19, 1980, petitioner was threatened by one McMillian, a fellow inmate at the New Jersey State Prison at Leesburg. Petitioner sent a note reporting the incident that found its way to respondent Cannon, the Assistant Superintendent of the prison, who read the note and sent it on to respondent James, a Corrections Sergeant. Cannon subsequently testified that he did not view the situation as urgent because on previous occasions when petitioner had a serious problem he had contacted Cannon directly.

James received the note at about 2 p.m. on December 19, and was informed of its contents. James then attended to other matters, which he described as emergencies, and left the note on his desk unread. By the time he left the prison that evening James had forgotten about the note, and since neither he nor Cannon worked on December 20 or 21, the officers on duty at that time had not been informed of the threat. Petitioner took no steps other than writing the note to alert the authorities that he feared an attack, nor did he request protective custody. He testified that he did not foresee an attack, and that he wrote the note to exonerate himself in the event that McMillian started another fight. He also testified that he wanted officials to reprimand McMillian in order to forestall any future incident. On Sunday, December 21, McMillian attacked petitioner with a fork, breaking his nose and inflicting other wounds to his face, neck, head, and body.

Petitioner brought this § 1983 suit in the United States District Court for the District of New Jersey, claiming that respondents (and two others) had violated his constitutional rights under the Eighth and Fourteenth Amendments. After a bench trial, the District Court held that petitioner had not established an Eighth Amendment violation “because [respondents] did not act with deliberate or callous indifference to [petitioner’s] needs and because the incident complained of was a single attack.” App. 89. The court also found, however, that respondents “negligently failed to take reasonable steps to protect [petitioner], and that he was injured as a result.” Ibid. Petitioner was thereby deprived, see Parratt v. Taylor, 451 U. S. 527, 536-537 (1981), of his liberty interest in personal security, see Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S. 651, 673 (1977); and because New Jersey law provides that “[n]either a public entity nor a public employee is liable for . . . any injury caused by ... a prisoner to any other prisoner,” N. J. Stat. Ann. § 59:5-2(b)(4) (1982), the court concluded that the deprivation was without due process. Petitioner was awarded compensatory damages of $2,000.

The Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit, hearing the case en banc, reversed. 752 F. 2d 817 (1984). While accepting the District Court’s conclusion that respondents had been negligent, and agreeing that the attack on petitioner implicated a recognized liberty interest, the majority held that respondents’ negligence did not work a “deprivation” of that interest within the meaning of the Due Process Clause. The court conceded that language in Parratt supported .the District Court’s position that merely negligent conduct causing injury could constitute a Fourteenth Amendment “deprivation,” but concluded that “Parratt does not so hold.” 752 F. 2d, at 826. Accordingly, the court ruled that petitioner had failed to make out a violation of his procedural or substantive due process rights, stating that § 1988 provides no remedy “for the type of negligence found in this case.” Id., at 829.

Two judges who joined the majority opinion also wrote separately to suggest that even if respondents’ negligence had “deprived” petitioner of liberty, the State’s decision not to provide a remedy, in view of its strong interest in protecting its prison officials from liability, did not violate due process. Three judges dissented, essentially embracing the position of the District Court.

We granted certiorari, 471 U. S. 1134 (1985), and set this case for oral argument with Daniels v. Williams, ante, p. 327. Finding the principles enunciated in Daniels controlling here, we affirm.

In Daniels, we held that the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment is not implicated by the lack of due care of an official causing unintended injury to life, liberty, or property. In other words, where a government official is merely negligent in causing the injury, no procedure for compensation is constitutionally required. In this case, petitioner does not challenge the District Court’s finding that respondents “ ‘did not act with deliberate or callous indifference to [petitioner’s] needs,”’ 752 F. 2d, at 820. Instead, he claims only that respondents “negligently failed to protect him from another inmate.” Brief for Petitioner 2. Daniels therefore controls.

Respondents’ lack of due care in this case led to serious injury, but that lack of care simply does not approach the sort of abusive government conduct that the Due Process Clause was designed to prevent. Daniels, ante, at 331-333. Far from abusing governmental power, or employing it as an instrument of oppression, respondent Cannon mistakenly believed that the situation was not particularly serious, and respondent James simply forgot about the note. The guarantee of due process has never been understood to mean that the State must guarantee due care on the part of its officials.

In an effort to limit the potentially broad sweep of his claim, petitioner emphasizes that he “does not ask this Court to read the Constitution as an absolute guarantor of his liberty from assault by a fellow prisoner, even if that assault is caused by the negligence of his jailers.” Brief for Petitioner 17. Describing his claim as one of “procedural due process, pure and simple,” id., at 14, all he asks is that New Jersey provide him a remedy. But the Fourteenth Amendment does not require a remedy when there has been no “deprivation” of a protected interest. Petitioner’s claim, based on respondents’ negligence, is quite different from one involving injuries caused by an unjustified attack by prison guards themselves, see Johnson v. Glick, 481 F. 2d 1028 (CA2), (Friendly, J.), cert. denied sub nom. John v. Johnson, 414 U. S. 1033 (1973), or by another prisoner where officials simply stood by and permitted the attack to proceed, see Curtis v. Everette, 489 F. 2d 516 (CA3 1973), cert. denied sub nom. Smith v. Curtis, 416 U. S. 995 (1974). As we held in Daniels, the protections of the Due Process Clause, whether procedural or substantive, are just not triggered by lack of due care by prison officials.

Accordingly, the judgment of the Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit is affirmed.

It is so ordered.

[For opinion of Justice Stevens concurring in the judgment, see ante, p. 336].

Justice Brennan,

dissenting.

I agree with the Court that merely negligent conduct by a state official, even though causing personal injury, does not constitute a deprivation of liberty under the Due Process Clause. I do believe, however, that official conduct which causes personal injury due to recklessness or deliberate indifference, does deprive the victim of liberty within the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment.

As Justice Blackmun persuasively demonstrates in his dissent, the record in this case strongly suggests that the prison officials’ failure to protect petitioner from attack was reckless and not merely negligent. Accordingly, like Justice Blackmun, I would vacate the judgment and remand this case so that the Court of Appeals may review the District Court’s holding that respondents’ conduct was not reckless.

Justice Blackmun,

with whom Justice Marshall joins, dissenting.

When the State of New Jersey put Robert Davidson in its prison, it stripped him of all means of self-protection. It forbade his access to a weapon. N. J. Dept, of Corrections Standards 251.4.a.201 and .202. It forbade his fighting back. Standards 251.4.a.002, .003, and .004. It blocked all avenues of escape. The State forced Davidson to rely solely on its own agents for protection. When threatened with violence by a fellow inmate, Davidson turned to the prison officials for protection, but they ignored his plea for help. As a result, Davidson was assaulted by another inmate. He suffered stab wounds on his face and body as well as a broken nose that required surgery.

The Court nevertheless excuses the prison officials from liability under 42 U. S. C. § 1983, holding that because the officials were “merely negligent in causing the injury” there was no “deprivation” of liberty without due process of law. Ante, at 347. It relies for this proposition and result on the easier companion case, Daniels v. Williams, ante, p. 327, which overrules in part Parratt v. Taylor, 451 U. S. 527 (1981). In Daniels, also a § 1983 suit, the Court holds that a pretrial detainee, allegedly injured when he slipped on a pillow negligently left on the jail stairs by a deputy, as a matter of law suffered no deprivation under the Fourteenth Amendment.

While I concur in the judgment in Daniels, I do not join the Court in extending that result to this case. It is one thing to hold that a commonplace slip and fall, or the loss of a $23.50 hobby kit, see Parratt v. Taylor, supra, does not rise to the dignified level of a constitutional violation. It is a somewhat different thing to say that negligence that permits anticipated inmate violence resulting in injury, or perhaps leads to the execution of the wrong prisoner, does not implicate the Constitution’s guarantee of due process. When the State incarcerated Daniels, it left intact his own faculties for avoiding a slip and a fall. But the State prevented Davidson from defending himself, and therefore assumed some responsibility to protect him from the dangers to which he was exposed. In these circumstances, I feel that Davidson was deprived of liberty by the negligence of the prison officials. Moreover, the acts of the state officials in this case may well have risen to the level of recklessness. I therefore dissent.

I-H

Davidson broke up a fight between two other inmates. Two days later, on Friday, December 19, 1980, the three were brought before a prison disciplinary officer. Only one of the three, Gibbs, was found guilty of fighting. When Davidson and the other inmate, McMillian, returned to their unit, McMillian threatened Davidson. Davidson decided to report the threat, in part to exonerate himself in advance but primarily to get the prison officials to take precautions. App. 85 (District Court’s findings of fact). See also id., at 75. Accordingly, Davidson reported the threat to Officer Garcia. Because McMillian had a history of prison assaults and fighting, id., at 33-34, 62, Garcia recognized the seriousness of McMillian’s threats. Garcia had Davidson relate the incident in writing. He then took Davidson’s note, and told Davidson to return to his unit.

Garcia delivered the note to respondent Cannon, Assistant Superintendent of the prison, and described its contents. Cannon did not think the threat serious because Davidson had not personally come to him to report it and because of the nature of the earlier fight. Id., at 44, 46. Cannon nonetheless asked to speak to Davidson, but changed his mind when he learned that Davidson had already returned to his unit. Id., at 42. Rather than take one of the usual preventive measures, such as separating the two inmates, placing Davidson in protective custody, or attempting to ascertain the gravity of the threat by talking to the two, id., at 44, Cannon simply told Garcia to pass the note along to respondent James, a Corrections Sergeant in the Internal Affairs Unit. Id., at 43.

Garcia followed Cannon’s order, giving the note to James at approximately 2:15 p.m., and informing James that it concerned a threat to Davidson by McMillian. Id., at 38-39. Because James was not ordered to act immediately, he decided there was no urgency. James also decided not to follow the normal procedure of interviewing the complainant. Id., at 50. James had two other tasks that he considered to be of higher priority, id., at 61 — paperwork and a report of a knife in a cell. James described the latter as an emergency situation; he conceded, however, that that cell had been double locked so that it was secure. Id., at 51. James’ regular shift ended at 4 p.m., but he worked a second shift that night as Assistant Center Keeper until 10:30 p.m. The Center Keeper ordinarily investigates threats to inmates, but again James took no action on the threat to Davidson. Id., at 54-55. The second shift was “normal and routine.” Id., at 59. James made at least two conscious decisions not to act on the note; by the time he left the prison, he had forgotten about it. Ibid. Had he remembered, he would have notified the weekend shift. Id., at 59-60. A reported threat would not normally be ignored over the weekend. Id., at 50.

Meanwhile, the prison authorities had been alerted to the potential violence through another channel. On Wednesday, December 17, Officer Gibson wrote a “Special Report” stating that an inmate source had told him the fight involving Davidson and McMillian was “not over yet.” Gibson recommended keeping Davidson and Gibbs in the detention area for their own protection. Id., at 80. This recommendation was apparently ignored, as both Davidson and McMillian remained in their regular unit.

Neither Cannon nor James worked during the weekend. Id., at 48. On Sunday, December 21, McMillian attacked Davidson, id., at 28, inflicting the injuries that gave rise to this suit.

II

The Court appears to recognize that the injuries to Davidson (as well as that to Daniels in the companion case, ante, p. 327) implicates the “liberty” protected by the Fourteenth Amendment. It is well established that this liberty includes freedom from unjustified intrusions on personal security. Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S. 651, 673-674 (1977). In particular, it includes a prisoner’s right to safe conditions and to security from attack by other inmates. See Youngberg v. Romeo, 457 U. S. 307, 315-316 (1982). Before a State can deprive a prisoner of the liberty he retains after imprisonment, it must afford him constitutionally adequate procedures. Vitek v. Jones, 445 U. S. 480, 493-494 (1980).

Although Daniels’ and Davidson’s liberty interests were infringed, the Court holds that they were not “deprived” of liberty in the constitutional sense. In the past, we have held that the Fourteenth Amendment requires a “familiar two-stage analysis: We must first ask whether the asserted individual interests are encompassed within the Fourteenth Amendment’s protection of ‘life, liberty or property.’” Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S., at 672 (emphasis added). If so, “we then must decide what procedures constitute ‘due process of law.’” Ibid. But I agree with the Court that a deprivation of liberty under the Fourteenth Amendment generally requires more than a mere infringement of a liberty interest. I also agree that the purpose of the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause should guide our determination of what actions constitute a deprivation of liberty under the Clause. A deprivation must contain some element of abuse of governmental power, for the “touchstone of due process is protection of the individual against arbitrary action of government.” Wolff v. McDonnell, 418 U. S. 539, 558 (1974). Finally, I agree that mere negligent activity ordinarily will not amount to an abuse of state power. Where the Court today errs, in my view, is in elevating this sensible rule of thumb to the status of inflexible constitutional dogma. The Court declares that negligent activity can never implicate the concerns of the Due Process Clause. I see no justification for this rigid view. In some cases, by any reasonable standard, governmental negligence is an abuse of power. This is one of those cases.

It seems to me that when a State assumes sole responsibility for one’s physical security and then ignores his call for help, the State cannot claim that it did not know a subsequent injury was likely to occur. Under such circumstances, the State should not automatically be excused from responsibility. In the context of prisons, this means that once the State has taken away an inmate’s means of protecting himself from attack by other inmates, a prison official’s negligence in providing protection can amount to a deprivation of the inmate’s liberty, at least absent extenuating circumstances. Such conduct by state officials seems to me to be the “arbitrary action” against which the Due Process Clause protects. The officials’ actions in such cases thus are not remote from the purpose of the Due Process Clause and § 1983.

Moreover, this case does not raise the concern noted in Daniels, ante, at 332, that “[t]he only tie between the facts . . . and anything governmental in nature” is the identity of the parties. In Daniels, the negligence was only coincidentally connected to an inmate-guard relationship; the same incident could have occurred on any staircase. Daniels in jail was as able as he would have been anywhere else to protect himself against a pillow on the stairs. The State did not prohibit him from looking where he was going or from taking care to avoid the pillow.

In contrast, where the State renders a person vulnerable and strips him of his ability to defend himself, an injury that results from a state official’s negligence in performing his duty is peculiarly related to the governmental function. Negligence in such a case implicates the “ ‘[mjisuse of power, possessed by virtue of state law and made possible only because the wrongdoer is clothed with the authority of state law.’” Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S. 167, 184 (1961), quoting United, States v. Classic, 313 U. S. 299, 326 (1941). The deliberate decision not to protect Davidson from a known threat was directly related to the often violent life of prisoners. And protecting inmates from attack is central to one of the State’s primary missions in running a prison — the maintenance of internal security. See Hudson v. Palmer, 468 U. S. 517, 524 (1984).

The Fourteenth Amendment is not “trivialized,” see Daniels, ante, at 332, by recognizing that in some situations negligence can lead to a deprivation of liberty. On the contrary, excusing the State’s failure to provide reasonable protection to inmates against prison violence demeans both the Fourteenth Amendment and individual dignity.

I — I I — i hH

Even were I to accept the Court’s rigid view of what constitutes a deprivation, I would not vote to affirm the judgment of the Court of Appeals. Although the District Court ruled that the prison officials’ conduct here was not reckless, there is substantial reason to doubt that conclusion. Since the Court of Appeals did not review the recklessness holding, I would remand the case for that review.

The Court has previously indicated that prison officials act recklessly when they disregard the potential for violence between a known violent inmate and a known likely victim. In Smith v. Wade, 461 U. S. 30 (1983), the Court recognized that a prison guard had acted recklessly in placing a known violent inmate in a cell shared by the previously victimized plaintiff and another inmate, without attempting to locate an empty cell nearby. The plaintiff, who had recently been removed from protective custody, was assaulted by his cellmates. It is far from clear that the officials in the present case were any less reckless.

Even if respondents’ conduct ordinarily would be considered only negligent, the forewarning here changes the constitutional complexion of the case. When officials have actual notice of a prisoner’s need for physical protection, “ ‘administrative negligence can rise to the level of deliberate indifference to or reckless disregard for that prisoner’s safety.’” Layne v. Vinzant, 657 F. 2d 468, 471 (CA1 1981), quoting West v. Rowe, 448 F. Supp. 58, 60 (ND Ill. 1978). See also Matzker v. Herr, 748 F. 2d 1142, 1149 (CA7 1984); Miller v. Solem, 728 F. 2d 1020, 1024-1025 (CA8), cert. denied, 469 U. S. 841 (1984). Cf. Baker v. McCollan, 448 U. S. 137, 148 (1979) (concurring opinion) (sheriff who failed to adopt procedures for identifying arrestees was negligent rather than reckless when he had not previously been notified of the legitimate need for or duty to adopt such procedures).

Respondents “had the responsibility to care for plaintiff’s safety, actual notice of the threat by an inmate with a known history of violence, and an opportunity to prevent harm to plaintiff.” App. 89 (District Court’s conclusions of law). Both respondents knew that McMillian had threatened Davidson after the fight and that Davidson had reported the threat immediately. Although Cannon knew that McMillian was a troublemaker, id., at 41, he nonetheless chose to think that the situation was not serious. Id., at 42. Likewise, James decided to attend to other matters during the entire eight hours he worked after receiving the note. Id., at 86-87. Cannon and James intentionally delayed protecting Davidson’s personal security in the face of a real and known possibility of violence. See Porm v. White, 762 F. 2d 635, 636-638 (CA8 1985). Cf. Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S. 97, 104-105 (1976) (intentional delay in providing necessary medical care to seriously ill inmate can constitute deliberate indifference and thus violate the Eighth Amendment). Cannon did not check on what James had found; James turned his back on the violence brewing for the weekend. Yet the risk that harm would occur was substantial and obvious. Respondents’ behavior very well may have been sufficiently irresponsible to constitute reckless disregard of Davidson’s safety.

Even if negligence is deemed categorically insufficient to cause a deprivation under the Fourteenth Amendment, recklessness must be sufficient. Recklessness or deliberate indifference is all that a prisoner need prove to show that denial of essential medical care violated the Eighth Amendment’s ban on cruel and unusual punishments. See Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S., at 104. The Due Process Clause provides broader protection than does the Eighth Amendment, see, e. g., Bell v. Wolfish, 441 U. S. 520 (1979); Ingraham v. Wright, 430 U. S. 651 (1977); Wolff v. McDonnell, 418 U. S., at 557-558; Revere v. Massachusetts General Hospital, 463 U. S. 239, 244 (1983), so a violation of the Due Process Clause certainly should not require a more culpable mental state.

hH <!

The deprivation of Davidson s liberty interest violated the Fourteenth Amendment if it occurred “without due process of law.” That condition is clearly satisfied. In both Parratt and Hudson, the Court held that where a deprivation of property was caused by a random and unauthorized act of a state official, it was impracticable for the State to provide process in advance and the State could satisfy procedural due process by a meaningful postdeprivation remedy, such as a tort suit. Parratt v. Taylor, 451 U. S., at 541; Hudson v. Palmer, 468 U. S., at 520-521. Even assuming the same is true for deprivations of liberty, New Jersey has failed to provide a meaningful postdeprivation remedy. By statute, the State has ruled: “Neither a public entity nor a public employee is liable for. . . any injury caused by... a prisoner to any other prisoner.” N. J. Stat. Ann. § 59:5-2(b)(4) (West 1982). The State acknowledges that it would have asserted the immunity statute as a defense to a state-court action and that Davidson’s complaint would have been dismissed before being heard on the merits. Brief for Respondents 34.

Conduct that is wrongful under §1983 surely cannot be immunized by state law. A State can define defenses, including immunities, to state-law causes of action, as long as the state rule does not conflict with federal law. Ferri v. Ackerman, 444 U. S. 193, 198 (1979). But permitting a state immunity defense to control in a § 1983 action “ ‘would transmute a basic guarantee into an illusory promise; and the supremacy clause of the Constitution insures that the proper construction may be enforced.’” Martinez v. California, 444 U. S. 277, 284, n. 8 (1980), quoting Hampton v. Chicago, 484 F. 2d 602, 607 (CA7 1973), cert. denied, 415 U. S. 917 (1974). It is irrelevant that state immunity as applied to defeat a state-law tort claim is constitutional, and may be construed as one aspect of the State’s definition of a tort claim. See 444 U. S., at 281-282, and n. 5. Since §1983 was designed to attack the misuse of state power, “government officials, as a class, could not be totally exempt, by virtue of some absolute immunity, from liability under its terms.” Scheuer v. Rhodes, 416 U. S. 232, 243 (1974).

Strong federal interests argue for allowing Davidson to bring his suit in the face of the New Jersey statute. See Ferri v. Ackerman, 444 U. S., at 198, n. 13. First, “a deprivation of a constitutional right is significantly different from and more serious than a violation of a state right and therefore deserves a different remedy even though the same act may constitute both a state tort and the deprivation of a constitutional right.” Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S., at 196 (concurring opinion). Second, the legislative history of § 1983’s predecessor makes clear that Congress intended to alter the federal-state relationship with respect to the protection of federal rights. “The very purpose of § 1983 was to interpose the federal courts between the States and the people, as guardians of the people’s federal rights.” Mitchum v. Foster, 407 U. S. 225, 242 (1972). In particular, Congress intended “to provide a federal remedy where the state remedy . . . was not available in practice.” Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S., at 174.

Davidson has been denied “ ‘an opportunity . . . granted at a meaningful time and in a meaningful manner’ . . . ‘for [a] hearing appropriate to the nature of the case.’” Logan v. Zimmerman Brush Co., 455 U. S. 422, 437 (1982) (citations omitted) (emphasis in original). Lacking a meaningful post-deprivation remedy in state court, Davidson was deprived of his liberty without due process of law.

I therefore would reverse the judgment of the Court of Appeals and order that the District Court award of $2,000 be reinstated. If I agreed with the rigid rule announced in Daniels — which I do not — I would vacate the judgment and remand the case for review of the District Court’s finding that the respondents’ conduct was not reckless.

      The note, addressed to a civilian hearing officer, said:
      “When I went back to the unit after seeing you McMillian was on the steps outside the unit. When I was going past him he told me ‘I’ll fuck you up you old mother-fucking fag.’ Go up to your cell, I be right there.
      “I ignored this and went to another person’s cell and thought about it. Then I figured I should tell you so ‘if’ anything develops you would be aware.
      “I’m quite content to let this matter drop but evidently McMillian isn’t.
      “Thank you, R. Davidson.” 752 F. 2d 817, 819 (CA3 1984).

       The Court in Youngberg v. Romeo held that an infringement of an institutionalized mental patient’s liberty interest in safe conditions would not violate due process if it resulted from a professionally acceptable judgment concerning the conditions of confinement. The essence of Davidson’s complaint, of course, is that the judgments made by respondents were not acceptable. Youngberg, in any event, is factually inapposite here, because Davidson — like Daniels — does not challenge the general conditions of his confinement.

       It is important not to confuse negligence with the absence of deliberate action. Negligent acts are often deliberate. W. Prosser, D. Dobbs, W. Keeton, & D. Owen, Prosser and Keeton on Law of Torts § 31, p. 171 (5th. ed. 1984) (Prosser); see, e. g., The Germanic, 196 U. S. 589 (1905). Respondents Cannon and James did not act inadvertently. They deliberately decided that the threat to Davidson was not serious. Whether conduct is denominated negligent or intentional can be a function of the likelihood that harm will occur. Where occurrence of the harm is substantially certain, the law imputes to the actor an intent to cause it. Restatement (Second) of Torts § 8A, Comment b (1965). Where harm is less certain, we may call the actor negligent. Prosser, supra, at 170. In some circumstances, the risk of injury is so high that the government’s failure to make efforts to avoid the injury is unacceptable, even if its omission still might be categorized as negligence.

         Estelle v. Gamble, 429 U. S. 97, 106 (1976), is not to the contrary. In Estelle, the Court held that a valid Eighth Amendment claim based on a prison physician’s diagnosis or treatment required an allegation of deliberate indifference rather than one of mere negligence. The requirement that deliberate indifference or wantonness be shown flows directly from the requirement of cruel and unusual conduct. The type of conduct about which the drafters of the Eighth Amendment were primarily concerned included “ ‘torture[s]’ and other ‘barbar[ous]’ methods of punishment” (quotations and citation omitted). Id., at 102. As is shown in the text, infra, the concerns underlying the Due Process Clause are broader than those underlying the Eighth Amendment.
      A prison is not the only setting in which governmental negligence may amount to an abuse of power. If police officers arrest a motorist on the freeway and leave his young children alone in the car by the side of the road on a cold night, any resulting injury to the children might well constitute a “deprivation” within the meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment. Cf. White v. Rockford, 592 F. 2d 381 (CA7 1979).

       In adopting the predecessor of § 1983, Congress sought a remedy “against those who representing a State in some capacity were unable or unwilling to enforce a state law.” Monroe v. Pape, 365 U. S. 167, 176 (1961) (emphasis in original).

       While negligence of prison officials can constitute a due process violation, general conditions of confinement do not ordinarily give rise to the increased standard of care discussed above. Prison conditions are typically part of the State’s legitimate restraint of liberty as a function of punishing convicted persons. See Rhodes v. Chapman, 452 U. S. 337 (1981). “Traditionally, this has meant confinement in a facility which, no matter how modern or how antiquated, results in restricting the movement of a detainee in a manner in which he would not be restricted if he simply were free to walk the streets pending trial.” Bell v. Wolfish, 441U. S. 520, 537 (1979). See also Block v. Rutherford, 468 U. S. 576 (1984).

       The Court’s notion of trivialization is especially difficult to understand given its recognition that negligent behavior may violate other constitutional provisions. See United States v. Leon, 468 U. S. 897, 919-923, and n. 23 (1984) (Fourth Amendment).


author: Chief Justice Burger

text:
    BOARD OF GOVERNORS OF THE FEDERAL RESERVE SYSTEM v. DIMENSION FINANCIAL CORP. et al.
    No. 84-1274.
    Argued November 4, 1986
    Decided January 22, 1986

      BURGER, C. J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which all other Members joined, except White, J., who took no part in the consideration or decision of the ease.

      Michael Bradfield argued the cause for petitioner. With him on the briefs was James V. Mattingly, Jr.

      Jeffrey S. Davidson argued the cause for respondents Dimension Financial Corp. et al. With him on the brief were David G. Norrell, Glenn Summers, and William L. Mitchell. John D. Hawke, Jr., argued the cause for respondents American Financial Services Association et al. With him on the brief were Leonard H. Becker, Douglas L. Wald, and Louis A. Hellerstein.

      Briefs of amici curiae urging reversal were filed for the Conference of State Bank Supervisors et al. by Erwin N. Griswold, J. Thomas Cardwell, Laura N. Pringle, and James F. Bell; and for the Independent Bankers Association of America by Leonard J. Rubin.

      Briefs of amici curiae urging affirmance were filed for the United States by Acting Solicitor General Fried, Acting Assistant Attorney General Willard, Deputy Solicitor General Claiborne, John F. Cordes, Freddi

        Lipstein, and Mary Ann Gadziala; and for Sears, Roebuck and Co. et al. by Theodore B. Olson, Philip M. Knox, Jr., David Shute, and Peter J. Wallison.

   Chief Justice Burger

delivered the opinion of the Court.

We granted certiorari to decide whether the Federal Reserve Board acted within its statutory authority in defining “banks” under §2(c) of the Bank Holding Company Act of 1956, 12 U. S. C. §1841 et seq., as any institution that (1) accepts deposits that “as a matter of practice” are payable on demand and (2) engages in the business of making “any loan other than a loan to an individual for personal, family, household, or charitable purposes” including “the purchase of retail installment loans or commercial paper, certificates of deposit, bankers’ acceptances, and similar money market instruments.” 12 CFR § 225.2(a)(1) (1985).

r*H

A

Section 2(c) of the Bank Holding Company Act defines “bank” as any institution “which (1) accepts deposits that the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand, and (2) engages in the business of making commercial loans.” 70 Stat. 133, as amended, 12 U. S. C. § 1841(c).

This case is about so-called “nonbank banks” — institutions that offer services similar to those of banks but which until recently were not under Board regulation because they conducted their business so as to place themselves arguably outside the narrow definition of “bank” found in § 2(c) of the Act. Many nonbank banks, for example, offer customers NOW (negotiable order of withdrawal) accounts which function like conventional checking accounts but because of prior notice provisions do not technically give the depositor a “legal right to withdraw on demand.” 12 U. S. C. § 1841(c)(1). Others offer conventional checking accounts, but avoid classification as “banks” by limiting their extension of commercial credit to the purchase of money market instruments such as certificates of deposit and commercial paper.

In 1984, the Board promulgated rules providing that non-bank banks offering the functional equivalent of traditional banking services would thereafter be regulated as banks. 49 Fed. Reg. 794. The Board accomplished this by amending its definition of a bank, found in “Regulation Y,” in two significant respects. First, the Board defined “demand deposit” to include deposits, like NOW accounts, which are “as a matter of practice” payable on demand. 12 CFR §225.2 (a)(1)(A) (1985). Second, the Board defined the “making of a commercial loan” as “any loan other than a loan to an individual for personal, family, household, or charitable purposes,” including “the purchase of retail installment loans or commercial paper, certificates of deposit, bankers’ acceptances, and similar money market instruments.” 12 CFR § 225.2(a)(1)(B) (1985).

B

Cases challenging the amended Regulation Y were commenced in three Circuits and were consolidated in the United States Court of Appeals for the Tenth Circuit. The Court of Appeals set aside both the demand deposit and commercial loan aspects of the Board’s regulation. 744 F. 2d 1402 (1984). The court did not discuss the demand deposit regulation in detail, relying instead on the holding of an earlier Tenth Circuit case, First Bancorporation v. Board of Governors, 728 F. 2d 434 (1984). In First Bancorporation, the court noted that the statutory definition of demand deposit is a deposit giving the depositor “a legal right to withdraw on demand.” The court recognized that “withdrawals from NOW accounts are in actual practice permitted on demand.” Id., at 436. But, since the depository institution retains a technical prior noticé requirement it does not, for the purposes of Congress’ definition of “bank,” accept “deposits that the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand.”

The Court of Appeals also concluded that the Board’s new definition of “commercial loan” was at odds with the Act. The legislative history revealed that in passing §2(c) Congress intended to exempt from Board regulation institutions whose only commercial credit activity was the purchase of money market instruments. Although agencies must be “able to change to meet new conditions arising within their sphere of authority,” any expansion of agency jurisdiction must come from Congress and not the agency itself. 744 F. 2d, at 1409. Accordingly, the Court of Appeals invalidated the amended regulations.

We granted certiorari. 471 U. S. 1064 (1985). We affirm.

I — I h-l

The Bank Holding Company Act of 1956, 12 U. S. C. § 1841 et seq., vests broad regulatory authority in the Board over bank holding companies “to restrain the undue concentration of commercial banking resources and to prevent possible abuses related to the control of commercial credit.” S. Rep. No. 91-1084, p. 24 (1970). The Act authorizes the Board to regulate “any company which has control over any bank.” 12 U. S. C. § 1841(a)(1).

The breadth of that regulatory power rests on the Act’s definition of the word “bank.” The 1956 Act gave a simple and broad definition of bank: “any national banking association or any State bank, savings bank, or trust company.” 12 U. S. C. § 1841(c) (1964 ed.). Experience soon proved that literal application of the statute had the unintended consequence of including within regulation industrial banks offering limited checking account services to their customers. These institutions accepted “ ‘funds from the public that are, in actual practice, repaid on demand.’” Amend the Bank Holding Company Act of 1956: Hearings on S. 2253, S. 2418, and H. R. 7371 before a Subcommittee of the Senate Committee on Banking and Currency, 89th Cong., 2d Sess., 447 (1966) (letter to the Committee from J. L. Robertson, .Member, Federal Reserve Board). Although including these institutions within the bank definition was the “correct legal interpretation” of the 1956 statute, the Board saw “no reason in policy to cover such institutions under this act.” Ibid. Congress agreed, and accordingly amended the statutory definition of a bank in 1966, limiting its application to institutions that accept “deposits that the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand.”

The 1966 definition proved unsatisfactory because it too included within the definition of “bank” institutions that did not pose significant dangers to the banking system. Because one of the primary purposes of the Act was to “restrain undue concentration of. . . commercial credit,” it made little sense to regulate institutions that did not, in fact, engage in the business of making commercial loans. S. Rep. No. 91-1084, p. 24 (1970). Congress accordingly amended the definition, excluding all institutions • that did not “engag[e] in the business of making commercial loans.” Since 1970 the statute has provided that a bank is any institution that

“(1) accepts deposits that the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand, and (2) engages in the business of making commercial loans.” 12 U. S. C. § 1841(c).

I — I HH HH

In 1984, the Board initiated rulemaking to respond to the increase in the number of nonbank banks. After hearing views of interested parties, the Board found that nonbank banks pose three dangers to the national banking system. First, by remaining outside the reach of banking regulations, nonbank banks have a significant competitive advantage over regulated banks despite the functional equivalence of the services offered. Second, the proliferation of nonbank banks threatens the structure established by Congress for limiting the association of banking and commercial enterprises. See 12 U. S. C. § 1843(c)(8) (bank holding company can purchase nonbanking affiliate only if entity “closely related to banking”). Third, the interstate acquisition of nonbank banks undermines the statutory proscription on interstate banking without prior state approval. 49 Fed. Reg. 794, 835-836 (1984). Since the narrowed statutory definition required that both the demand deposit and the commercial loan elements be present to constitute the institution as a bank, the Board proceeded to amend Regulation Y redefining both elements of the test. We turn now to the two elements of this definition.

A

The Board amended its definition of “demand deposit” primarily to include within its regulatory authority institutions offering NOW accounts. A NOW account functions like a traditional checking account — the depositor can write checks that are payable on demand at the depository institution. The depository institution, however, retains a seldom exercised but nevertheless absolute right to require prior notice of withdrawal. Under a literal reading of the statute, the institution — even if it engages in full-scale commercial lending — is not a “bank” for the purposes of the Holding Company Act because the prior notice provision withholds from the depositor any “legal right” to withdraw on demand. The Board in its amended definition closes this loophole by defining demand deposits as a deposit, not that the depositor has a “legal right to withdraw on demand,” but a deposit that “as a matter of practice is payable on demand.”

In determining whether the Board was empowered to make such a change, we begin, of course, with the language of the statute. If the statute is clear and unambiguous “that is the end of the matter, for the court, as well as the agency, must give effect to the unambiguously expressed intent of Congress.” Chevron U. S. A. Inc. v. Natural Resources Defense Council, Inc., 467 U. S. 837, 842-843 (1984). The traditional deference courts pay to agency interpretation is not to be applied to alter the clearly expressed intent of Congress.

Application of this standard to the Board’s interpretation of the “demand deposit” element of §2(c) does not require extended analysis. By the 1966 amendments to § 2(c), Congress expressly limited the Act to regulation of institutions that accept deposits that “the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand.” 12 U. S. C. § 1841(c). The Board would now define “legal right” as meaning the same as “a matter of practice.” But no amount of agency expertise— however sound may be the result — can make the words “legal right” mean a right to do something “as a matter of practice.” A legal right to withdraw on demand means just that: a right to withdraw deposits without prior notice or limitation. Institutions offering NOW accounts do not give the depositor a legal right to withdraw on demand; rather, the institution itself retains the ultimate legal right to require advance notice of withdrawal. The Board’s definition of “demand deposit,” therefore, is not an accurate or reasonable interpretation of § 2(c).

B

Section 2(c) of the Act provides that, even if an institution accepts deposits that the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand, the institution is not a bank unless it “engages in the business of making commercial loans.” Under Regulation Y, “commercial loan” means “any loan other than a loan to an individual for personal, family, household, or charitable purposes,” including “the purchase of retail installment loans or commercial paper, certificates of deposit, bankers’ acceptances, and similar money market instruments.”

The purpose of the amended regulation is to regulate as banks institutions offering “commercial loan substitutes,” that is, extensions of credit to commercial enterprises through transactions other than the conventional commercial loan. In its implementing order, the Board explained that “it is proper to include these instruments within the scope of the term commercial loan as used in the Act in order to carry out the Act’s basic purposes: to maintain the impartiality of banks in providing credit to business, to prevent conflicts of interest, and to avoid concentration of control of credit.” 49 Fed. Reg., at 841.

As the Board’s characterization of these transactions as “commercial loan substitutes” suggests, however, money market transactions do not fall within the commonly accepted definition of “commercial loans.” The term “commercial loan” is used in the financial community to describe the direct loan from a bank to a business customer for the purpose of providing funds needed by the customer in its business. The term does not apply to, indeed is used to distinguish, extensions of credit in the open market that do not involve close borrower-lender relationships. Cf. G. Munn & F. Garcia, Encyclopedia of Banking and Finance 607 (1983). These latter money market transactions undoubtedly involve the indirect extension of credit to commercial entities but, because they do not entail the face-to-face negotiation of credit between borrower and lender, are not “commercial loans.”

This common understanding of the term “commercial loan” is reflected in the Board’s own decisions. Throughout the 1970’s the Board applied the term “commercial loan” to exclude from regulation institutions engaging in money market transactions. For example, in D. H. Baldwin Co., 63 Fed. Res. Bull. 280 (1977), the Board noted that although savings and loans participated in the federal funds market and issued certificates of deposit, they were not “technically ‘banks’ for the purposes of the Act” because they did not make commercial loans. Id., at 286. The Board recognized that savings and loans resembled banks but concluded that “the decision should be left to Congress whether, in light of the policies underlying the Bank Holding Company Act, such ‘near-banks’ should be treated as ‘banks’ or ‘nonbanks.’” Id., at 287. See also American Fletcher Corp., 60 Fed. Res. Bull. 868, 869, and n. 8 (1974) (savings and loans participate in the federal funds market and offer certificates of deposit but may not be deemed “banks” within the meaning of the Act). In 1976, the Board’s Legal Division found that broker call loans “do not appear to have the close lender-borrower relationship that is one of the characteristics of commercial loans.” Letter to Michael A. Greenspan from Baldwin P. Tuttle, Deputy General Counsel, pp. 2-3 (Jan. 26, 1976) (App. 100A-101A). A 1981 internal memorandum summarized the Board’s longstanding interpretation of the commercial loan definition:

“The Board also has concluded that, although commercial in nature, the purchase of federal funds, money market instruments (certificates of deposit, commercial paper, and bankers acceptances) are not considered commercial loans for the purposes of section 2(c) of the Act, despite the fact that for other statutory and regulatory purposes these instruments may be considered commercial loans.” Federal Reserve System, Office Correspondence (Feb. 10, 1981) (App. 97A) (emphasis in original).

The Board now contends that the new definition conforms with the original intent of Congress in enacting the “commercial loan” provision. The provision, the Board argues, was a “technical amendment to the Act designed to create a narrowly circumscribed exclusion from the Act’s coverage.” Brief for Petitioner 41. The Board supports this revisionist view of the purpose of the “commercial loan” provision by citing a comment in the “legislative history” indicating that at the time the provision was enacted, it operated to exclude only one institution, the Boston Safe Deposit & Trust Co. The Board does not go so far as to claim that the commercial loan amendment was a private bill, designed only to exempt Boston Safe. It suggests, however, that because the amendment was prompted by the circumstances of one particular institution, the language “commercial loan” should be given something other than its commonly accepted meaning.

The statute by its terms, however, exempts from regulation all institutions that do not engage in the business of making commercial loans. The choice of this general language demonstrates that, although the legislation may have been prompted by the needs of one institution, Congress intended to exempt the class of institutions not making commercial loans. Furthermore, the legislative history supports this plain reading of the statute. The Senate Report explained:

“The definition of ‘bank’ adopted by Congress in 1966 was designed to include commercial banks and exclude those institutions not engaged in commercial banking, since the purpose of the act was to restrain undue concentration of commercial banking resources and to prevent possible abuses related to the control of commercial credit. However, the Federal Reserve Board has noted that this definition may be too broad and may include institutions which are not in fact engaged in the business of commercial banking in that they do not make commercial loans. The committee, accordingly, adopted a provision which would exclude institutions that are not engaged in the business of making commercial loans from the definition of ‘bank.’” S. Rep. No. 91-1084, p. 24 (1970).

The only reference to Boston Safe is in a lengthy banking journal article that Representative Gonzalez entered into the Congressional Record. See 116 Cong. Rec. 25846, 25848 (1970) (indicating that Boston Safe was “[virtually the only bank that does no commercial lending”). Such a passage is not “legislative history” in any meaningful sense of the term and cannot defeat the plain application of the words actually chosen by Congress to effectuate its will. Finally, even if the legislative history evidenced a congressional intent to exclude only Boston Safe, which it does not, the Board’s expansive definition of “commercial loan” would be an unreasonable interpretation of the statute. At the time the commercial loan provision was enacted, Boston Safe did not “make commercial loans,” but did purchase money market instruments such as certificates of deposit and commercial paper. Recognizing the common usage of the term “commercial loan” and the purpose of the 1970 amendment, the Board in 1972 advised Boston Safe that it was not, in fact, a bank for the purposes of the Bank Holding Company Act:

“The Board understands that Boston Safe purchases ‘money market instruments,’ such as certificates of deposit, commercial paper, and bank acceptances. In the circumstances of this case, such transactions are not regarded as commercial loans for the purposes of the Act.” Letter to Lee J. Aubrey, Vice President, Federal Reserve Bank of Boston, from Michael A. Greenspan, Assistant Secretary, Board of Governors, p. 2 (May 18, 1972) (App. 94A).

Nothing in the statutory language or the legislative history, therefore, indicates that the term “commercial loan” meant anything different from its accepted ordinary commercial usage. The Board’s definition of “commercial loan,” therefore, is not a reasonable interpretation of § 2(c).

C

Unable to support its new definitions on the plain language of §2(c), the Board contends that its new definitions fall within the “plain purpose” of the Bank Holding Company Act. Nonbank banks must be subject to regulation, the Board insists, because “a statute must be read with a view to the ‘policy of the legislation as a whole’ and cannot be read to negate the plain purpose of the legislation.” The plain purpose of the legislation, the Board contends, is to regulate institutions “functionally equivalent” to banks. Since NOW accounts are the functional equivalent of a deposit in which the depositor has a legal right to withdraw on demand and money market transactions involve the extension of credit to commercial entities, institutions offering such services should be regulated as banks.

The “plain purpose” of legislation, however, is determined in the first instance with reference to the plain language of the statute itself. Richards v. United States, 369 U. S. 1, 9 (1962). Application of “broad purposes” of legislation at the expense of specific provisions ignores the complexity of the problems Congress is called upon to address and the dynamics of legislative action. Congress may be unanimous in its intent to stamp out some vague social or economic evil; however, because its Members may differ sharply on the means for effectuating that intent, the final language of the legislation may reflect hard-fought compromises. Invocation of the “plain purpose” of legislation at the expense of the terms of the statute itself takes no account of the processes of compromise and, in the end, prevents the effectuation of congressional intent.

Without doubt there is much to be said for regulating financial institutions that are the functional equivalent of banks. NOW accounts have much in common with traditional payment-on-demand checking accounts; indeed we recognize that they generally serve the same purpose. Rather than defining “bank” as an institution that offers the functional equivalent of banking services, however, Congress defined with specificity certain transactions that constitute banking subject to regulation. The statute may be imperfect, but the Board has no power to correct flaws that it perceives in the statute it is empowered to administer. Its rulemaking power is limited to adopting regulations to carry into effect the will of Congress as expressed in the statute.

If the Bank Holding Company Act falls short of providing safeguards desirable or necessary to protect the public interest, that is a problem for Congress, and not the Board or the courts, to address. Numerous proposals for legislative reform have been advanced to streamline the tremendously complex area of financial institution regulation. See, e. g., Blueprint for Reform: Report of the Task Group on Regulation of Financial Services (July 1984). Our present inquiry, however, must come to rest with the conclusion that the action of the Board in this case is inconsistent with the language of the statute for here, as in TVA v. Hill, 437 U. S. 153, 194 (1978), “[o]nce the meaning of an enactment is discerned . . . the judicial process comes to an end.”

Affirmed.

Justice White took no part in the consideration or decision of this case.

       gases filed in the United States Courts of Appeal for the Fourth and Sixth Circuits were transferred to the Tenth Circuit pursuant to 28 U. S. C. § 2112(a).

       The Senate Report explained, “the bill redefines ‘bank’ as an institution that accepts deposits payable on demand (checking accounts), the commonly accepted test of whether an institution is a commercial bank so as to exclude institutions like industrial banks and nondeposit trust companies.” S. Rep. No. 1179, 89th Cong., 2d Sess., 7 (1966).

       The Board explained that since 1980 a large number of insurance, securities, industrial, and commercial organizations have acquired Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation insured financial institutions that are the functional equivalent of banks. The Board also noted that the powers of previously unregulated industrial banks “have substantially expanded . . . making them for all intents and purposes banks” for the purposes of the Bank Holding Company Act. 49 Fed. Reg., at 834.

       The Board stated in its implementing order that “commercial paper is an important substitute for commercial loans.” 49 Fed. Reg., at 840, n. 34. See also Citicorp, 69 Fed. Res. Bull. 921, 922 (1983) (“[C]ommercial loans include such commercial loan substitutes as the purchase of commercial paper, bankers acceptances and certificates of deposit, and the sale of federal funds”); Hurley, The Commercial Paper Market, 63 Fed. Res. Bull. 525 (1977) (“[C]ommercial paper is an important substitute for bank credit”).

       The Board contends that these decisions “represented a willingness by the Board to refrain from applying the fall scope of the Act in conditions that did not appear to generate the potential for its evasion.” 49 Fed. Reg., at 842. But the decisions themselves make no mention of such self-imposed restraint. Rather, the decisions represented the Board’s interpretation of the meaning of the statute based on the language of the Act and the legislative history of its passage.

       In a related argument, the Board contends that it has the power to regulate these institutions under § 5(b), which provides that the Board may issue regulations “necessary to enable it to administer and carry out the purposes of this chapter and prevent evasions thereof.” 12 U. S. C. § 1844(b). But § 5 only permits the Board to police within the boundaries of the Act; it does not permit the Board to expand its jurisdiction beyond the boundaries established by Congress in § 2(e).

       The process of effectuating congressional intent at times may yield anomalies. In TVA v. Hill, 437 U. S. 153 (1978), for example, we were confronted with the explicit language of a statute that in application produced a curious result. Noting that nothing prohibited Congress from passing unwise legislation, we upheld the enforcement of the statute as Congress had written it. Congress swiftly granted relief to the petitioner in Hill; but it did so in a fashion that could not have been tailored by the courts. See Pub. L. 95-632, § 5, 92 Stat. 3760.