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Chapter 5: Government Speech and Trademark Approval

Usually we think of free speech in terms of what an individual or organization can say. But governments have free speech rights too. They can erect monuments to certain individuals or groups–and not to others. They can purchase compositions from certain artists for their art museum, but not others. Problems occur when individuals seek to turn a government forum into a public forum by attempting to insert their message. This chapter begins with cases that distinguish between forums limited to the government and those that permit private participation. In the first case, a local government included a monolith with the Ten Commandments in its park, and a private group sued to have its own principles publicized on a monument inside that same park.

Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U.S. 460 (2009)

A religious group requested that a monument reflecting its seven principles be installed in a public city park that contained a monument to the Ten Commandments (and several other secular monuments). The city adopted rules for the selection of monuments, but the group insisted that it had a right to have its monument installed because a park is a traditional public forum open to all. The Court unanimously rejected this claim. First, it held that when the government creates a forum for its speech it is not required to allow the public to include its message. Second, since parks are traditional public forums, the Court distinguished between momentary speech, such as in demonstrations and parades, and indefinite speech reflected in monuments. Justice Alito’s opinion held that government entities thus have the right to design parks and other public areas as they see fit, and those whose views they exclude have no right to erect monuments (though they may engage in protest speech if they wish.)

Justice Samuel Alito:

This case presents the question whether the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment entitles a private group to insist that a municipality permit it to place a permanent monument in a city park in which other donated monuments were previously erected. The Court of Appeals held that the municipality was required to accept the monument because a public park is a traditional public forum. We conclude, however, that although a park is a traditional public forum for speeches and other transitory expressive acts, the display of a permanent monument in a public park is not a form of expression to which forum analysis applies. Instead, the placement of a permanent monument in a public park is best viewed as a form of government speech and is therefore not subject to scrutiny under the Free Speech Clause.

Pioneer Park (or Park) is a 2.5 acre public park located in the Historic District of Pleasant Grove City (or City) in Utah. The Park currently contains 15 permanent displays, at least 11 of which were donated by private groups or individuals. These include an historic granary, a wishing well, the City’s first fire station, a September 11 monument, and a Ten Commandments monument donated by the Fraternal Order of Eagles in 1971.

Respondent Summum is a religious organization founded in 1975 and headquartered in Salt Lake City, Utah. On two separate occasions in 2003, Summum’s president wrote a letter to the City’s mayor requesting permission to erect a “stone monument,” which would contain “the Seven Aphorisms of SUMMUM” and be similar in size and nature to the Ten Commandments monument. The City denied the requests and explained that its practice was to limit monuments in the Park to those that “either (1) directly relate to the history of Pleasant Grove, or (2) were donated by groups with longstanding ties to the Pleasant Grove community.” The following year, the City passed a resolution putting this policy into writing. The resolution also mentioned other criteria, such as safety and esthetics.

In May 2005, respondent’s president again wrote to the mayor asking to erect a monument, but the letter did not describe the monument, its historical significance, or Summum’s connection to the community. The city council rejected this request.

In 2005, respondent filed this action against the City and various local officials (petitioners), asserting, among other claims, that petitioners had violated the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment by accepting the Ten Commandments monument but rejecting the proposed Seven Aphorisms monument. Respondent sought a preliminary injunction directing the City to permit Summum to erect its monument in Pioneer Park. After the District Court denied Summum’s preliminary injunction request, respondent appealed, pressing solely its free speech claim. A panel of the Tenth Circuit reversed. . . .

No prior decision of this Court has addressed the application of the Free Speech Clause to a government entity’s acceptance of privately donated, permanent monuments for installation in a public park, and the parties disagree sharply about the line of precedents that governs this situation. Petitioners contend that the pertinent cases are those concerning government speech. Respondent, on the other hand, agrees with the Court of Appeals panel that the applicable cases are those that analyze private speech in a public forum. The parties’ fundamental disagreement thus centers on the nature of petitioners’ conduct when they permitted privately donated monuments to be erected in Pioneer Park. Were petitioners engaging in their own expressive conduct? Or were they providing a forum for private speech?

If petitioners were engaging in their own expressive conduct, then the Free Speech Clause has no application. The Free Speech Clause restricts government regulation of private speech; it does not regulate government speech. See Johanns v. Livestock Marketing Assn.544 U. S. 550, 553 (2005) (“[T]he Government’s own speech . . . is exempt from First Amendment scrutiny”). . . .

A government entity may exercise this same freedom to express its views when it receives assistance from private sources for the purpose of delivering a government-controlled message. This does not mean that there are no restraints on government speech. For example, government speech must comport with the Establishment Clause. The involvement of public officials in advocacy may be limited by law, regulation, or practice. And of course, a government entity is ultimately “accountable to the electorate and the political process for its advocacy.” Southworth, 529 U. S., at 235. “If the citizenry objects, newly elected officials later could espouse some different or contrary position.”

While government speech is not restricted by the Free Speech Clause, the government does not have a free hand to regulate private speech on government property. This Court long ago recognized that members of the public retain strong free speech rights when they venture into public streets and parks, “which ‘have immemorially been held in trust for the use of the public and, time out of mind, have been used for purposes of assembly, communicating thoughts between citizens, and discussing public questions.’” Perry Ed. Assn. v. Perry Local Educators’ Assn.460 U. S. 37, 45 (1983) (quoting Hague v. Committee for Industrial Organization307 U. S. 496, 515 (1939) (opinion of Roberts, J.)). In order to preserve this freedom, government entities are strictly limited in their ability to regulate private speech in such “traditional public fora.” Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Ed. Fund, Inc.473 U. S. 788, 800 (1985). Reasonable time, place, and manner restrictions are allowed, but any restriction based on the content of the speech must satisfy strict scrutiny, that is, the restriction must be narrowly tailored to serve a compelling government interest, see Corneliussupra, at 800, and restrictions based on viewpoint are prohibited, see Carey v. Brown447 U. S. 455, 463 (1980).

With the concept of the traditional public forum as a starting point, this Court has recognized that members of the public have free speech rights on other types of government property and in certain other government programs that share essential attributes of a traditional public forum. We have held that a government entity may create “a designated public forum” if government property that has not traditionally been regarded as a public forum is intentionally opened up for that purpose. See Cornelius, 473 U. S., at 802. Government restrictions on speech in a designated public forum are subject to the same strict scrutiny as restrictions in a traditional public forum. Id., at 800.

The Court has also held that a government entity may create a forum that is limited to use by certain groups or dedicated solely to the discussion of certain subjects. In such a forum, a government entity may impose restrictions on speech that are reasonable and viewpoint-neutral. See Good News Club v. Milford Central School533 U. S. 98, 106-107 (2001).

There may be situations in which it is difficult to tell whether a government entity is speaking on its own behalf or is providing a forum for private speech, but this case does not present such a situation. Permanent monuments displayed on public property typically represent government speech.

Governments have long used monuments to speak to the public. Since ancient times, kings, emperors, and other rulers have erected statues of themselves to remind their subjects of their authority and power. Triumphal arches, columns, and other monuments have been built to commemorate military victories and sacrifices and other events of civic importance. A monument, by definition, is a structure that is designed as a means of expression. When a government entity arranges for the construction of a monument, it does so because it wishes to convey some thought or instill some feeling in those who see the structure. Neither the Court of Appeals nor respondent disputes the obvious proposition that a monument that is commissioned and financed by a government body for placement on public land constitutes government speech.

Just as government-commissioned and government-financed monuments speak for the government, so do privately financed and donated monuments that the government accepts and displays to the public on government land. It certainly is not common for property owners to open up their property for the installation of permanent monuments that convey a message with which they do not wish to be associated. And because property owners typically do not permit the construction of such monuments on their land, persons who observe donated monuments routinely—and reasonably—interpret them as conveying some message on the property owner’s behalf. In this context, there is little chance that observers will fail to appreciate the identity of the speaker. This is true whether the monument is located on private property or on public property, such as national, state, or city park land. . . .

But while government entities regularly accept privately funded or donated monuments, they have exercised selectivity. . . . Across the country, “municipalities generally exercise editorial control over donated monuments through prior submission requirements, design input, requested modifications, written criteria, and legislative approvals of specific content proposals.”

Public parks are often closely identified in the public mind with the government unit that owns the land. City parks—ranging from those in small towns, like Pioneer Park in Pleasant Grove City, to those in major metropolises, like Central Park in New York City—commonly play an important role in defining the identity that a city projects to its own residents and to the outside world. Accordingly, cities and other jurisdictions take some care in accepting donated monuments. Government decisionmakers select the monuments that portray what they view as appropriate for the place in question, taking into account such content-based factors as esthetics, history, and local culture. The monuments that are accepted, therefore, are meant to convey and have the effect of conveying a government message, and they thus constitute government speech.

In this case, it is clear that the monuments in Pleasant Grove’s Pioneer Park represent government speech. Although many of the monuments were not designed or built by the City and were donated in completed form by private entities, the City decided to accept those donations and to display them in the Park. Respondent does not claim that the City ever opened up the Park for the placement of whatever permanent monuments might be offered by private donors. Rather, the City has “effectively controlled” the messages sent by the monuments in the Park by exercising “final approval authority” over their selection. The City has selected those monuments that it wants to display for the purpose of presenting the image of the City that it wishes to project to all who frequent the Park; it has taken ownership of most of the monuments in the Park, including the Ten Commandments monument that is the focus of respondent’s concern; and the City has now expressly set forth the criteria it will use in making future selections.

Respondent voices the legitimate concern that the government speech doctrine not be used as a subterfuge for favoring certain private speakers over others based on viewpoint. Respondent’s suggested solution is to require a government entity accepting a privately donated monument to go through a formal process of adopting a resolution publicly embracing “the message” that the monument conveys.

We see no reason for imposing a requirement of this sort. The parks of this country contain thousands of donated monuments that government entities have used for their own expressive purposes, usually without producing the sort of formal documentation that respondent now says is required to escape Free Speech Clause restrictions. Requiring all of these jurisdictions to go back and proclaim formally that they adopt all of these monuments as their own expressive vehicles would be a pointless exercise that the Constitution does not mandate. . . .

This argument fundamentally misunderstands the way monuments convey meaning. . . . Even when a monument features the written word, the monument may be intended to be interpreted, and may in fact be interpreted by different observers, in a variety of ways. Monuments called to our attention by the briefing in this case illustrate this phenomenon.

What, for example, is “the message” of the Greco-Roman mosaic of the word “Imagine” that was donated to New York City’s Central Park in memory of John Lennon? Some observers may “imagine” the musical contributions that John Lennon would have made if he had not been killed. Others may think of the lyrics of the Lennon song that obviously inspired the mosaic and may “imagine” a world without religion, countries, possessions, greed, or hunger. . . .

Contrary to respondent’s apparent belief, it frequently is not possible to identify a single “message” that is conveyed by an object or structure, and consequently, the thoughts or sentiments expressed by a government entity that accepts and displays such an object may be quite different from those of either its creator or its donor.By accepting  a privately donated monument and placing it on city property, a city engages in expressive conduct, but the intended and perceived significance of that conduct may not coincide with the thinking of the monument’s donor or creator. Indeed, when a privately donated memorial is funded by many small donations, the donors themselves may differ in their interpretation of the monument’s significance. By accepting such a monument, a government entity does not necessarily endorse the specific meaning that any particular donor sees in the monument. . . .

The “message” conveyed by a monument may change over time. A study of war memorials found that “people reinterpret” the meaning of these memorials as “historical interpretations” and “the society around them changes.”

A striking example of how the interpretation of a monument can evolve is provided by one of the most famous and beloved public monuments in the United States, the Statue of Liberty. The statue was given to this country by the Third French Republic to express republican solidarity and friendship between the two countries.  At the inaugural ceremony, President Cleveland saw the statue as an emblem of international friendship and the widespread influence of American ideals. Only later did the statue come to be viewed as a beacon welcoming immigrants to a land of freedom.

Respondent and the Court of Appeals analogize the installation of permanent monuments in a public park to the delivery of speeches and the holding of marches and demonstrations, and they thus invoke the rule that a public park is a traditional public forum for these activities. But “public forum principles . . . are out of place in the context of this case.” United States v. American Library Assn., Inc.539 U. S. 194, 205 (2003). The forum doctrine has been applied in situations in which government-owned property or a government program was capable of accommodating a large number of public speakers without defeating the essential function of the land or the program. For example, a park can accommodate many speakers and, over time, many parades and demonstrations. The Combined Federal Campaign permits hundreds of groups to solicit donations from federal employees. A public university’s student activity fund can provide money for many campus activities. A public university’s buildings may offer meeting space for hundreds of student groups. A school system’s internal mail facilities can support the transmission of many messages to and from teachers and school administrators.

By contrast, public parks can accommodate only a limited number of permanent monuments. . . .  Speakers, no matter how long-winded, eventually come to the end of their remarks; persons distributing leaflets and carrying signs at some point tire and go home; monuments, however, endure. They monopolize the use of the land on which they stand and interfere permanently with other uses of public space. A public park, over the years, can provide a soapbox for a very large number of orators—often, for all who want to speak—but it is hard to imagine how a public park could be opened up for the installation of permanent monuments by every person or group wishing to engage in that form of expression.

. . . To be sure, there are limited circumstances in which the forum doctrine might properly be applied to a permanent monument—for example, if a town created a monument on which all of its residents (or all those meeting some other criterion) could place the name of a person to be honored or some other private message. But as a general matter, forum analysis simply does not apply to the installation of permanent monuments on public property.

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The Supreme Court addressed the issue of public access to a limited public forum several years later. In Texas, the state government allows people to design specialty license plates for public use, but it decides which ones are appropriate for inclusion in the program. Could Texas choose to exclude a design with the Confederate flag without violating the First Amendment?

Walker v. Texas Division, Sons of Confederate Veterans, 576 U.S. 200 (2015)

The Court divided 5-4 on the issue of whether privately-designed license plates involve government speech or private speech. Justice Breyer’s majority opinion held that because license plates are produced by the government and legally required on vehicles, they involve government approval of the messages that they present. Therefore, the Texas government is free to choose the messages it wishes to sponsor without having to allow those it disagrees with. The dissenters, in an opinion by Justice Samuel Alito, claimed that no government speech was involved, as the vanity plate system effectively transformed the plates into a limited public forum. But Alito had no effective rebuttal to Breyer’s point about the difference between a bumper sticker and a license plate. If all that mattered was the driver’s message, why would it matter whether it was on a license plate or a bumper sticker? The reason for seeking to put the Confederate flag on a license plate was to suggest government sanction of the message.

Justice Stephen Breyer:

Texas offers automobile owners a choice between ordinary and specialty license plates. Those who want the State to issue a particular specialty plate may propose a plate design, comprising a slogan, a graphic, or (most commonly) both. If the Texas Department of Motor Vehicles Board approves the design, the State will make it available for display on vehicles registered in Texas.

In this case, the Texas Division of the Sons of Confederate Veterans proposed a specialty license plate design featuring a Confederate battle flag. The Board rejected the proposal. We must decide whether that rejection violated the Constitution’s free speech guarantees. We conclude that it did not.

Texas law requires all motor vehicles operating on the State’s roads to display valid license plates. And Texas makes available several kinds of plates. Drivers may choose to display the State’s general-issue license plates. In the alternative, drivers may choose from an assortment of specialty license plates. . . .

Texas offers vehicle owners a variety of specialty plates, generally for an annual fee. And Texas selects the designs for specialty plates through three distinct processes. First, the state legislature may specifically call for the development of a specialty license plate. The legislature has enacted statutes authorizing, for example, plates that say “Keep Texas Beautiful” and “Mothers Against Drunk Driving,” plates that “honor” the Texas citrus industry, and plates that feature an image of the World Trade Center towers and the words “Fight Terrorism.”

Second, the Board may approve a specialty plate design proposal that a state-designated private vendor has created at the request of an individual or organization. Among the plates created through the private-vendor process are plates promoting the “Keller Indians” and plates with the slogan “Get it Sold with RE/MAX.”

Third, the Board “may create new specialty license plates on its own initiative or on receipt of an application from a nonprofit entity seeking to sponsor a specialty plate.  A nonprofit must include in its application “a draft design of the specialty license plate.” And Texas law vests in the Board authority to approve or to disapprove an application. The relevant statute says that the Board “may refuse to create a new specialty license plate” for a number of reasons, for example “if the design might be offensive to any member of the public . . . or for any other reason established by rule.” Specialty plates that the Board has sanctioned through this process include plates featuring the words “The Gator Nation,” together with the Florida Gators logo, and plates featuring the logo of Rotary International and the words “SERVICE ABOVE SELF.”

In 2009, the Sons of Confederate Veterans, Texas Division (a nonprofit entity), applied to sponsor a specialty license plate through this last-mentioned process. SCV’s application included a draft plate design. At the bottom of the proposed plate were the words “SONS OF CONFEDERATE VETERANS.” At the side was the organization’s logo, a square Confederate battle flag framed by the words “Sons of Confederate Veterans 1896.” A faint Confederate battle flag appeared in the back-ground on the lower portion of the plate. Additionally, in the middle of the plate was the license plate number, and at the top was the State’s name and silhouette. The Board’s predecessor denied this application.

In 2010, SCV renewed its application before the Board. The Board invited public comment on its website and at an open meeting. After considering the responses, including a number of letters sent by elected officials who opposed the proposal, the Board voted unanimously against issuing the plate. The Board explained that it had found “it necessary to deny th[e] plate design application, specifically the confederate flag portion of the design, because public comments ha[d] shown that many members of the general public find the design offensive, and because such comments are reasonable.” The Board added “that a significant portion of the public associate the confederate flag with organizations advocating expressions of hate directed toward people or groups that is demeaning to those people or groups.”

In 2012, SCV and two of its officers (collectively SCV) brought this lawsuit against the chairman and members of the Board (collectively Board). SCV argued that the Board’s decision violated the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment, and it sought an injunction requiring the Board to approve the proposed plate design. The District Court entered judgment for the Board. A divided panel of the Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit reversed. It held that Texas’s specialty license plate designs are private speech and that the Board, in refusing to approve SCV’s design, engaged in constitutionally forbidden viewpoint discrimination. The dissenting judge argued that Texas’s specialty license plate designs are government speech, the content of which the State is free to control.

. . . When government speaks, it is not barred by the Free Speech Clause from determining the content of what it says. Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U. S. 460, 468 (2009). That freedom in part reflects the fact that it is the democratic electoral process that first and foremost provides a check on government speech. Thus, government statements (and government actions and programs that take the form of speech) do not normally trigger the First Amendment rules designed to protect the marketplace of ideas. See Johanns v. Livestock Marketing Assn., 544 U. S. 550, 559 (2005). Instead, the Free Speech Clause helps produce informed opinions among members of the public, who are then able to influence the choices of a government that, through words and deeds, will reflect its electoral mandate. See Stromberg v. California, 283 U. S. 359, 369 (1931) (observing that “our constitutional system” seeks to maintain “the opportunity for free political discussion to the end that government may be responsive to the will of the people”).

Were the Free Speech Clause interpreted otherwise, government would not work. How could a city government create a successful recycling program if officials, when writing householders asking them to recycle cans and bottles, had to include in the letter a long plea from the local trash disposal enterprise demanding the contrary? How could a state government effectively develop programs designed to encourage and provide vaccinations, if officials also had to voice the perspective of those who oppose this type of immunization? “[I]t is not easy to imagine how government could function if it lacked th[e] freedom” to select the messages it wishes to convey. Summum, 555 U.S. at 468.

We have therefore refused “[t]o hold that the Government unconstitutionally discriminates on the basis of viewpoint when it chooses to fund a program dedicated to advance certain permissible goals, because the program in advancing those goals necessarily discourages alternative goals.” Rust v. Sullivan, 500 U. S. 173, 194 (1991). . . .

In our view, specialty license plates issued pursuant to Texas’s statutory scheme convey government speech. Our reasoning rests primarily on our analysis in Summum, a recent case that presented a similar problem. We conclude here, as we did there, that our precedents regarding government speech (and not our precedents regarding forums for private speech) provide the appropriate framework through which to approach the case. . . .

Our analysis in Summum leads us to the conclusion that here, too, government speech is at issue. First, the history of license plates shows that, insofar as license plates have conveyed more than state names and vehicle identification numbers, they long have communicated messages from the States. In 1917, Arizona became the first State to display a graphic on its plates. . . .

In 1928, Idaho became the first State to include a slogan on its plates. The 1928 Idaho plate proclaimed “Idaho Potatoes” and featured an illustration of a brown potato, onto which the license plate number was superimposed in green. The brown potato did not catch on, but slogans on license plates did. Over the years, state plates have included the phrases “North to the Future” (Alaska), “Keep Florida Green” (Florida), “Hoosier Hospitality” (Indiana), “The Iodine Products State” (South Carolina), “Green Mountains” (Vermont), and “America’s Dairyland” (Wisconsin). States have used license plate slogans to urge action, to promote tourism, and to tout local industries.

Texas, too, has selected various messages to communicate through its license plate designs. . . . Additionally, the Texas Legislature has specifically authorized specialty plate designs stating, among other things, “Read to Succeed,” “Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo,” “Texans Conquer Cancer,” and “Girl Scouts.” This kind of state speech has appeared on Texas plates for decades.

Second, Texas license plate designs “are often closely identified in the public mind with the [State].” Each Texas license plate is a government article serving the governmental purposes of vehicle registration and identification. The governmental nature of the plates is clear from their faces: The State places the name “TEXAS” in large letters at the top of every plate. Moreover, the State requires Texas vehicle owners to display license plates, and every Texas license plate is issued by the State. Texas also owns the designs on its license plates, including the designs that Texas adopts on the basis of proposals made by private individuals and organizations. . . .

Texas license plates are, essentially, government IDs. And issuers of ID “typically do not permit” the placement on their IDs of “message[s] with which they do not wish to be associated.” Consequently, “persons who observe” designs on IDs “routinely—and reasonably—interpret them as conveying some message on the [issuer’s] behalf.”

Indeed, a person who displays a message on a Texas license plate likely intends to convey to the public that the State has endorsed that message. If not, the individual could simply display the message in question in larger letters on a bumper sticker right next to the plate. But the individual prefers a license plate design to the purely private speech expressed through bumper stickers. That may well be because Texas’s license plate designs convey government agreement with the message displayed.

Third, Texas maintains direct control over the messages conveyed on its specialty plates. Texas law provides that the State “has sole control over the design, typeface, color, and alphanumeric pattern for all license plates.” The Board must approve every specialty plate design proposal before the design can appear on a Texas plate. And the Board and its predecessor have actively exercised this authority. . . .

These considerations, taken together, convince us that the specialty plates here in question are similar enough to the monuments in Summum to call for the same result. That is not to say that every element of our discussion in Summum is relevant here. For instance, in Summum we emphasized that monuments were “permanent” and we observed that “public parks can accommodate only a limited number of permanent monuments.” 555 U. S., at 464, 470, 478. We believed that the speech at issue was government speech rather than private speech in part because we found it “hard to imagine how a public park could be opened up for the installation of permanent monuments by every person or group wishing to engage in that form of expression.” Id., at 479. Here, a State could theoretically offer a much larger number of license plate designs, and those designs need not be available for time immemorial.

But those characteristics of the speech at issue in Summum were particularly important because the government speech at issue occurred in public parks, which are traditional public forums for “the delivery of speeches and the holding of marches and demonstrations” by private citizens. By contrast, license plates are not traditional public forums for private speech. . . .

SCV believes that Texas’s specialty license plate designs are not government speech, at least with respect to the designs (comprising slogans and graphics) that were initially proposed by private parties. According to SCV, the State does not engage in expressive activity through such slogans and graphics, but rather provides a forum for private speech by making license plates available to display the private parties’ designs. We cannot agree.

We have previously used what we have called “forum analysis” to evaluate government restrictions on purely private speech that occurs on government property. Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Ed. Fund, Inc., 473 U. S. 788, 800 (1985). But forum analysis is misplaced here. Because the State is speaking on its own behalf, the First Amendment strictures that attend the various types of government-established forums do not apply. . . .

Texas’s specialty plates are neither a “ ‘designated public forum,’ ” which exists where “government property that has not traditionally been regarded as a public forum is intentionally opened up for that purpose,” Summum, 555 U.S at 469, nor a “limited public forum,” which exists where a government has “reserv[ed a forum] for certain groups or for the discussion of certain topics,” Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va., 515 U. S. 819, 829 (1995) . A government “does not create a public forum by inaction or by permitting limited discourse, but only by intentionally opening a nontraditional forum for public discourse.” Cornelius, 473 U. S., at 802. And in order “to ascertain whether [a government] intended to designate a place not traditionally open to assembly and debate as a public forum,” this Court “has looked to the policy and practice of the government” and to “the nature of the property and its compatibility with expressive activity.” Id.

Texas’s policies and the nature of its license plates indicate that the State did not intend its specialty license plates to serve as either a designated public forum or a limited public forum. First, the State exercises final authority over each specialty license plate design. This authority militates against a determination that Texas has created a public forum.  Second, Texas takes ownership of each specialty plate design, making it particularly untenable that the State intended specialty plates to serve as a forum for public discourse. Finally, Texas license plates have traditionally been used for government speech, are primarily used as a form of government ID, and bear the State’s name. These features of Texas license plates indicate that Texas explicitly associates itself with the speech on its plates.

 

Justice Samuel Alito, joined by the Chief Justice, Justice Scalia, and Justice Kennedy, dissenting:

The Court’s decision passes off private speech as government speech and, in doing so, establishes a precedent that threatens private speech that government finds displeasing. Under our First Amendment cases, the distinction between government speech and private speech is critical. The First Amendment “does not regulate government speech,” and therefore when government speaks, it is free “to select the views that it wants to express.” Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U. S. 460, 468 (2009). By contrast, “[i]n the realm of private speech or expression, government regulation may not favor one speaker over another.” Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of University of Virginia, 515 U. S. 819, 828 (1995).

Unfortunately, the Court’s decision categorizes private speech as government speech and thus strips it of all First Amendment protection. The Court holds that all the privately created messages on the many specialty plates issued by the State of Texas convey a government message rather than the message of the motorist displaying the plate. Can this possibly be correct?

Here is a test. Suppose you sat by the side of a Texas highway and studied the license plates on the vehicles passing by. You would see, in addition to the standard Texas plates, an impressive array of specialty plates. (There are now more than 350 varieties.) You would likely observe plates that honor numerous colleges and universities. You might see plates bearing the name of a high school, a fraternity or sorority, the Masons, the Knights of Columbus, the Daughters of the American Revolution, a realty company, a favorite soft drink, a favorite burger restaurant, and a favorite NASCAR driver.

As you sat there watching these plates speed by, would you really think that the sentiments reflected in these specialty plates are the views of the State of Texas and not those of the owners of the cars? If a car with a plate that says “Rather Be Golfing” passed by at 8:30 am on a Monday morning, would you think: “This is the official policy of the State—better to golf than to work?” If you did your viewing at the start of the college football season and you saw Texas plates with the names of the University of Texas’s out-of-state competitors in upcoming games—Notre Dame, Oklahoma State, the University of Oklahoma, Kansas State, Iowa State—would you assume that the State of Texas was officially (and perhaps treasonously) rooting for the Longhorns’ opponents? And when a car zipped by with a plate that reads “NASCAR – 24 Jeff Gordon,” would you think that Gordon (born in California, raised in Indiana, resides in North Carolina) is the official favorite of the State government?

The Court says that all of these messages are government speech. . . . This capacious understanding of government speech takes a large and painful bite out of the First Amendment. Specialty plates may seem innocuous. They make motorists happy, and they put money in a State’s coffers. But the precedent this case sets is dangerous. While all license plates unquestionably contain some government speech (e.g., the name of the State and the numbers and/or letters identifying the vehicle), the State of Texas has converted the remaining space on its specialty plates into little mobile billboards on which motorists can display their own messages. And what Texas did here was to reject one of the messages that members of a private group wanted to post on some of these little billboards because the State thought that many of its citizens would find the message offensive. That is blatant viewpoint discrimination. . . .

Relying almost entirely on one precedent—Pleasant Grove City v. Summum—the Court holds that messages that private groups succeed in placing on Texas license plates are government messages. The Court badly misunderstands Summum. . . . 

In Summum, a private group claimed the right to erect a large stone monument in a small city park. The 2.5-acre park contained 15 permanent displays, 11 of which had been donated by private parties. Id. The central question concerned the nature of the municipal government’s conduct when it accepted privately donated monuments for placement in its park: Had the city created a forum for private speech, or had it accepted donated monuments that expressed a government message? We held that the monuments represented government speech, and we identified several important factors that led to this conclusion.

First, governments have long used monuments as a means of expressing a government message. As we put it, “[s]ince ancient times, kings, emperors, and other rulers have erected statues of themselves to remind their subjects of their authority and power.” Here in the United States, important public monuments like the Statue of Liberty, the Washington Monument, and the Lincoln Memorial, express principles that inspire and bind the Nation together. Thus, long experience has led the public to associate public monuments with government speech.

Second, there is no history of landowners allowing their property to be used by third parties as the site of large permanent monuments that do not express messages that the landowners wish to convey. While “[a] great many of the monuments that adorn the Nation’s public parks were financed with private funds or donated by private parties,” “cities and other jurisdictions take some care in accepting donated monuments” and select those that “conve[y] a government message.” We were not presented in Summum with any examples of public parks that had been thrown open for private groups or individuals to put up whatever monuments they desired.

Third, spatial limitations played a prominent part in our analysis. “[P]ublic parks can accommodate only a limited number of permanent monuments,” and consequently permanent monuments “monopolize the use of the land on which they stand and interfere permanently with other uses of public space.” Because only a limited number of monuments can be built in any given space, governments do not allow their parks to be cluttered with monuments that do not serve a government purpose, a point well understood by those who visit parks and view the monuments they contain.

These characteristics, which rendered public monuments government speech in Summum, are not present in Texas’s specialty plate program. . . .

After the beginning of motor vehicle registration in 1917, more than 70 years passed before the proliferation of specialty plates in Texas. It was not until the 1990’s that motorists were allowed to choose from among 10 messages, such as “Read to Succeed” and “Keep Texas Beautiful.” Up to this point, the words on the Texas plates can be considered government speech. The messages were created by the State, and they plausibly promoted state programs. But when, at some point within the last 20 years or so, the State began to allow private entities to secure plates conveying their own messages, Texas crossed the line. . . .

The Texas specialty plate program also does not exhibit the “selective receptivity” present in Summum. To the contrary, Texas’s program is not selective by design. The Board’s chairman, who is charged with approving designs, explained that the program’s purpose is “to encourage private plates” in order to “generate additional revenue for the state.” And most of the time, the Board “base[s] [its] decisions on rules that primarily deal with reflectivity and readability.” . . .

Pressed to come up with any evidence that the State has exercised “selective receptivity,” Texas (and the Court) rely primarily on sketchy information not contained in the record, specifically that the Board’s predecessor (might have) rejected a “pro-life” plate and perhaps others on the ground that they contained messages that were offensive. But even if this happened, it shows only that the present case may not be the only one in which the State has exercised viewpoint discrimination. . . .

Texas does not take care to approve only those proposed plates that convey messages that the State supports. Instead, it proclaims that it is open to all private messages—except those, like the SCV plate, that would offend some who viewed them.

The Court believes that messages on privately created plates are government speech because motorists want a seal of state approval for their messages and therefore prefer plates over bumper stickers. This is dangerous reasoning. There is a big difference between government speech (that is, speech by the government in furtherance of its programs) and governmental blessing (or condemnation) of private speech. Many private speakers in a forum would welcome a sign of government approval. But in the realm of private speech, government regulation may not favor one viewpoint over another. Rosenberger, supra, at 828.

A final factor that was important in Summum was space. A park can accommodate only so many permanent monuments. Often large and made of stone, monuments can last for centuries and are difficult to move. License plates, on the other hand, are small, light, mobile, and designed to last for only a relatively brief time. The only absolute limit on the number of specialty plates that a State could issue is the number of registered vehicles. The variety of available plates is limitless, too. Today Texas offers more than 350 varieties. In 10 years, might it be 3,500? . . .

States have not adopted specialty license plate programs like Texas’s because they are now bursting with things they want to say on their license plates. Those programs were adopted because they bring in money. Texas makes public the revenue totals generated by its specialty plate program, and it is apparent that the program brings in many millions of dollars every year. Texas has space available on millions of little mobile billboards. And Texas, in effect, sells that space to those who wish to use it to express a personal message—provided only that the message does not express a viewpoint that the State finds unacceptable. That is not government speech; it is the regulation of private speech.

What Texas has done by selling space on its license plates is to create what we have called a limited public forum. It has allowed state property (i.e., motor vehicle license plates) to be used by private speakers according to rules that the State prescribes. Under the First Amendment, however, those rules cannot discriminate on the basis of viewpoint. See Rosenberger, 515 U. S., at 829 (quoting Cornelius v. NAACP Legal Defense & Ed. Fund, Inc., 473 U. S. 788, 806 (1985). But that is exactly what Texas did here. The Board rejected Texas SCV’s design, “specifically the confederate flag portion of the design, because public comments have shown that many members of the general public find the design offensive, and because such comments are reason-able.” These statements indisputably demonstrate that the Board denied Texas SCV’s design because of its viewpoint. . . .

Messages that are proposed by private parties and placed on Texas specialty plates are private speech, not government speech. Texas cannot forbid private speech based on its viewpoint. That is what it did here.

******

The Sons of Confederate Veterans would not have benefitted financially from the sale of the license plates they hoped Texas would authorize. The State of Texas held the copyright for all license plates, regardless of origin. But what about the First Amendment rights of people who seek trademarks for their products? To obtain a trademark, one must convince the Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) that the mark does not “disparage . . .  or bring . . . into contempt or disrepute” any “persons, living or dead.”[1] If a trademark application is denied registration for this reason, might this cause a conflict with the First Amendment?

Matal v. Tam, 582 U.S. (2017)

A rock band composed of Asians called themselves the “Slants.” The purpose was to mock Asian stereotypes and create a positive meaning for the word. The PTO rejected their application on the grounds that the word disparaged Asians, and the band leader challenged this as a viewpoint-based restriction that violated the First Amendment. The Court voted 8-0 to strike down the limitation on trademarks as violating the First Amendment rights of the band. Justice Alito held that the registration of a trademark is not analogous to the production of a license plate, and thus government speech was not involved. Instead, trademarks are private speech, and in recognizing them the government cannot prefer some words to others with a negative connotation. This would be equivalent to a heckler’s veto. Justice Kennedy’s concurrence provided additional explanation about how censorship of trademarks violates the constitutional value of a free market of ideas.

Justice Samuel Alito:

This case concerns a dance-rock band’s application for federal trademark registration of the band’s name, “The Slants.” “Slants” is a derogatory term for persons of Asian descent, and members of the band are Asian-Americans. But the band members believe that by taking that slur as the name of their group, they will help to “reclaim” the term and drain its denigrating force.

The Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) denied the application based on a provision of federal law prohibiting the registration of trademarks that may “disparage . . . or bring . . . into contemp[t] or disrepute” any “persons, living or dead.” 15 U. S. C. §1052(a). We now hold that this provision violates the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment. It offends a bedrock First Amendment principle: Speech may not be banned on the ground that it expresses ideas that offend.

“The principle underlying trademark protection is that distinctive marks—words, names, symbols, and the like—can help distinguish a particular artisan’s goods from those of others.” B&B Hardware, Inc. v. Hargis Industries, Inc., 575 U. S. 138 (2015). A trademark “designate[s] the goods as the product of a particular trader” and “protect[s] his good will against the sale of another’s product as his.” United Drug Co. v. Theodore Rectanus Co., 248 U. S. 90, 97 (1918). It helps consumers identify goods and services that they wish to purchase, as well as those they want to avoid.

“[F]ederal law does not create trademarks.” B&B Hardware. Trademarks and their precursors have ancient origins, and trademarks were protected at common law and in equity at the time of the founding of our country. For most of the 19th century, trademark protection was the province of the States. Eventually, Congress stepped in to provide a degree of national uniformity, passing the first federal legislation protecting trademarks in 1870. The foundation of current federal trademark law is the Lanham Act, enacted in 1946. See Act of July 5, 1946, ch. 540, 60 Stat. 427. By that time, trademark had expanded far beyond phrases that do no more than identify a good or service. Then, as now, trademarks often consisted of catchy phrases that convey a message.

Under the Lanham Act, trademarks that are “used in commerce” may be . . . federally registered. . . .   There are now more than two million marks that have active federal certificates of registration.  This system of federal registration helps to ensure that trademarks are fully protected and supports the free flow of commerce. . . .

Without federal registration, a valid trademark may still be used in commerce. And an unregistered trademark can be enforced against would-be infringers in several ways. Most important, even if a trademark is not federally registered, it may still be enforceable under §43(a) of the Lanham Act, which creates a federal cause of action for trademark infringement.  Unregistered trademarks may also be entitled to protection under other federal statutes, such as the Anticybersquatting Consumer Protection Act, 15 U. S. C. §1125(d). And an unregistered trademark can be enforced under state common law, or if it has been registered in a State, under that State’s registration system.

Federal registration, however, “confers important legal rights and benefits on trademark owners who register their marks.” Registration on the principal register (1) “serves as ‘constructive notice of the registrant’s claim of ownership’ of the mark,”; (2) “is ‘prima facie evidence of the validity of the registered mark and of the registration of the mark, of the owner’s ownership of the mark, and of the owner’s exclusive right to use the registered mark in commerce on or in connection with the goods or services specified in the certificate’”; and (3) can make a mark “‘incontestable’” once a mark has been registered for five years.” Registration also enables the trademark holder “to stop the importation into the United States of articles bearing an infringing mark.”

The Lanham Act contains provisions that bar certain trademarks from the principal register. For example, a trademark cannot be registered if it is “merely descriptive or deceptively misdescriptive” of goods, §1052(e)(1), or if it is so similar to an already registered trademark or trade name that it is “likely . . . to cause confusion, or to cause mistake, or to deceive,” §1052(d).

At issue in this case is one such provision, which we will call “the disparagement clause.” This provision prohibits the registration of a trademark “which may disparage . . . persons, living or dead, institutions, beliefs, or national symbols, or bring them into contempt, or disrepute.” §1052(a). This clause appeared in the original Lanham Act and has remained the same to this day.

When deciding whether a trademark is disparaging, an examiner at the PTO generally applies a “two-part test.” The examiner first considers “the likely meaning of the matter in question, taking into account not only dictionary definitions, but also the relationship of the matter to the other elements in the mark, the nature of the goods or services, and the manner in which the mark is used in the marketplace in connection with the goods or services.” Trademark Manual of Examining Procedure §1203.03(b)(i) (Apr. 2017). “If that meaning is found to refer to identifiable persons, institutions, beliefs or national symbols,” the examiner moves to the second step, asking “whether that meaning may be disparaging to a substantial composite of the referenced group.” If the examiner finds that a “substantial composite, although not necessarily a majority, of the referenced group would find the proposed mark . . . to be disparaging in the context of contemporary attitudes,” a prima facie case of disparagement is made out, and the burden shifts to the applicant to prove that the trademark is not disparaging. What is more, the PTO has specified that “[t]he fact that an applicant may be a member of that group or has good intentions underlying its use of a term does not obviate the fact that a substantial composite of the referenced group would find the term objectionable.”

Simon Tam is the lead singer of “The Slants.” He chose this moniker in order to “reclaim” and “take ownership” of stereotypes about people of Asian ethnicity. The group “draws inspiration for its lyrics from childhood slurs and mocking nursery rhymes” and has given its albums names such as “The Yellow Album” and “Slanted Eyes, Slanted Hearts.”

Tam sought federal registration of “THE SLANTS,” on the principal register, but an examining attorney at the PTO rejected the request, applying the PTO’s two-part framework and finding that “there is . . . a substantial composite of persons who find the term in the applied-for mark offensive.” The examining attorney relied in part on the fact that “numerous dictionaries define ‘slants’ or ‘slant-eyes’ as a derogatory or offensive term.” The examining attorney also relied on a finding that “the band’s name has been found offensive numerous times”—citing a performance that was canceled because of the band’s moniker and the fact that “several bloggers and commenters to articles on the band have indicated that they find the term and the applied-for mark offensive.”

Tam contested the denial of registration before the examining attorney and before the PTO’s Trademark Trial and Appeal Board (TTAB) but to no avail. Eventually, he took the case to federal court, where the en banc Federal Circuit ultimately found the disparagement clause facially unconstitutional under the First Amendment’s Free Speech Clause. The majority found that the clause engages in viewpoint-based discrimination, that the clause regulates the expressive component of trademarks and consequently cannot be treated as commercial speech, and that the clause is subject to and cannot satisfy strict scrutiny. The majority also rejected the Government’s argument that registered trademarks constitute government speech, as well as the Government’s contention that federal registration is a form of government subsidy. And the majority opined that even if the disparagement clause were analyzed under this Court’s commercial speech cases, the clause would fail the “intermediate scrutiny” that those cases prescribe. . .

Because the disparagement clause applies to marks that disparage the members of a racial or ethnic group, we must decide whether the clause violates the Free Speech Clause of the First Amendment. And at the outset, we must consider three arguments that would either eliminate any First Amendment protection or result in highly permissive rational-basis review. Specifically, the Government contends (1) that trademarks are government speech, not private speech, (2) that trademarks are a form of government subsidy, and (3) that the constitutionality of the disparagement clause should be tested under a new “government-program” doctrine. We address each of these arguments below.

The First Amendment prohibits Congress and other government entities and actors from “abridging the freedom of speech”; the First Amendment does not say that Congress and other government entities must abridge their own ability to speak freely. And our cases recognize that “[t]he Free Speech Clause . . . does not regulate government speech.” Pleasant Grove City v. Summum, 555 U. S. 460, 467 (2009). . . . When a government entity embarks on a course of action, it necessarily takes a particular viewpoint and rejects others. The Free Speech Clause does not require government to maintain viewpoint neutrality when its officers and employees speak about that venture. . . .

At issue here is the content of trademarks that are registered by the PTO, an arm of the Federal Government. The Federal Government does not dream up these marks, and it does not edit marks submitted for registration. Except as required by the statute involved here, 15 U. S. C. §1052(a), an examiner may not reject a mark based on the viewpoint that it appears to express. Thus, unless that section is thought to apply, an examiner does not inquire whether any viewpoint conveyed by a mark is consistent with Government policy or whether any such viewpoint is consistent with that expressed by other marks already on the principal register. Instead, if the mark meets the Lanham Act’s viewpoint-neutral requirements, registration is mandatory. And if an examiner finds that a mark is eligible for placement on the principal register, that decision is not reviewed by any higher official unless the registration is challenged.  Moreover, once a mark is registered, the PTO is not authorized to remove it from the register unless a party moves for cancellation, the registration expires, or the Federal Trade Commission initiates proceedings based on certain grounds.

In light of all this, it is far-fetched to suggest that the content of a registered mark is government speech. If the federal registration of a trademark makes the mark government speech, the Federal Government is babbling prodigiously and incoherently. It is saying many unseemly things. . . .

None of our government speech cases even remotely supports the idea that registered trademarks are government speech. In Johanns, we considered advertisements promoting the sale of beef products. A federal statute called for the creation of a program of paid advertising “ ‘to advance the image and desirability of beef and beef products.’ ” 544 U. S., at 561 (quoting 7 U. S. C. § 2902(13)). Congress and the Secretary of Agriculture provided guidelines for the content of the ads, Department of Agriculture officials attended the meetings at which the content of specific ads was discussed, and the Secretary could edit or reject any proposed ad. Noting that “[t]he message set out in the beef promotions [was] from beginning to end the message established by the Federal Government,” we held that the ads were government speech. The Government’s involvement in the creation of these beef ads bears no resemblance to anything that occurs when a trademark is registered. . . .

Trademarks have not traditionally been used to convey a Government message. With the exception of the enforcement of 15 U. S. C. §1052(a), the viewpoint expressed by a mark has not played a role in the decision whether to place it on the principal register. And there is no evidence that the public associates the contents of trademarks with the Federal Government.

This brings us to the case on which the Government relies most heavily, Walker, which likely marks the outer bounds of the government-speech doctrine. Holding that the messages on Texas specialty license plates are government speech, the Walker Court cited three factors distilled from Summum. First, license plates have long been used by the States to convey state messages.  Second, license plates “are often closely identified in the public mind” with the State, since they are manufactured and owned by the State, generally designed by the State, and serve as a form of “government ID.” Third, Texas “maintain[ed] direct control over the messages conveyed on its specialty plates.” As explained above, none of these factors are present in this case.

Trademarks are private, not government, speech.

 

Justice Anthony Kennedy, joined by Justices Ginsburg, Sotomayor and Kagan, concurring in part and concurring in the judgment:

As the Court is correct to hold, §1052(a) constitutes viewpoint discrimination—a form of speech suppression so potent that it must be subject to rigorous constitutional scrutiny. The Government’s action and the statute on which it is based cannot survive this scrutiny.

The Court is correct in its judgment, and I join Parts I, II, and III–A of its opinion. This separate writing explains in greater detail why the First Amendment’s protections against viewpoint discrimination apply to the trademark here. . . .

The First Amendment guards against laws “targeted at specific subject matter,” a form of speech suppression known as content based discrimination. This category includes a subtype of laws that go further, aimed at the suppression of “particular views . . . on a subject.” Rosenberger, 515 U. S., at 829. A law found to discriminate based on viewpoint is an “egregious form of content discrimination,” which is “presumptively unconstitutional.” Id., at 829–830.

At its most basic, the test for viewpoint discrimination is whether—within the relevant subject category—the government has singled out a subset of messages for disfavor based on the views expressed. In the instant case, the disparagement clause the Government now seeks to implement and enforce identifies the relevant subject as “persons, living or dead, institutions, beliefs, or national symbols.” 15 U. S. C. §1052(a). Within that category, an applicant may register a positive or benign mark but not a derogatory one. The law thus reflects the Government’s disapproval of a subset of messages it finds offensive. This is the essence of viewpoint discrimination.

The Government disputes this conclusion. It argues, to begin with, that the law is viewpoint neutral because it applies in equal measure to any trademark that demeans or offends. This misses the point. A subject that is first defined by content and then regulated or censored by mandating only one sort of comment is not viewpoint neutral. To prohibit all sides from criticizing their opponents makes a law more viewpoint based, not less so. Cf. Rosenbergersupra, at 831–832 (“The . . . declaration that debate is not skewed so long as multiple voices are silenced is simply wrong; the debate is skewed in multiple ways”). The logic of the Government’s rule is that a law would be viewpoint neutral even if it provided that public officials could be praised but not condemned. The First Amendment’s viewpoint neutrality principle protects more than the right to identify with a particular side. It protects the right to create and present arguments for particular positions in particular ways, as the speaker chooses. By mandating positivity, the law here might silence dissent and distort the marketplace of ideas.

The Government next suggests that the statute is viewpoint neutral because the disparagement clause applies to trademarks regardless of the applicant’s personal views or reasons for using the mark. Instead, registration is denied based on the expected reaction of the applicant’s audience. In this way, the argument goes, it cannot be said that Government is acting with hostility toward a particular point of view. For example, the Government does not dispute that respondent seeks to use his mark in a positive way. Indeed, respondent endeavors to use The Slants to supplant a racial epithet, using new insights, musical talents, and wry humor to make it a badge of pride. Respondent’s application was denied not because the Government thought his object was to demean or offend but because the Government thought his trademark would have that effect on at least some Asian-Americans.

The Government may not insulate a law from charges of viewpoint discrimination by tying censorship to the reaction of the speaker’s audience. The Court has suggested that viewpoint discrimination occurs when the government intends to suppress a speaker’s beliefs, but viewpoint discrimination need not take that form in every instance. The danger of viewpoint discrimination is that the government is attempting to remove certain ideas or perspectives from a broader debate. That danger is all the greater if the ideas or perspectives are ones a particular audience might think offensive, at least at first hearing. An initial reaction may prompt further reflection, leading to a more reasoned, more tolerant position.

Indeed, a speech burden based on audience reactions is simply government hostility and intervention in a different guise. The speech is targeted, after all, based on the government’s disapproval of the speaker’s choice of message. And it is the government itself that is attempting in this case to decide whether the relevant audience would find the speech offensive. For reasons like these, the Court’s cases have long prohibited the government from justifying a First Amendment burden by pointing to the offensiveness of the speech to be suppressed. . . .

A law that can be directed against speech found offensive to some portion of the public can be turned against minority and dissenting views to the detriment of all. The First Amendment does not entrust that power to the government’s benevolence. Instead, our reliance must be on the substantial safeguards of free and open discussion in a democratic society.

******

Two years later, the Court addressed the issue of whether the PTO could refuse to register a mark that appeared to be vulgar and obscene. In Iancu v. Brunetti, 588 U.S. — (2019), the applicant requested registration of “FUCT,” which he claimed was to be read as an acronym, not as a word. The PTO rejected the mark because it contained “immoral or scandalous matter,” as it was required to do by 15 U.S.C. §1052(a). The PTO applied the following test: whether “‘a substantial composite of the general public’ would find the mark ‘shocking to the sense of truth, decency, or propriety’; ‘giving offense to the conscience or moral feelings’; ‘calling out for condemnation’; ‘disgraceful’; ‘offensive’; ‘disreputable’; or ‘vulgar.'” The Court held that the ban on immoral or scandalous criterion was viewpoint-based, and struck it down because it violated the First Amendment. The Court also noted that the PTO had discriminated against allegedly immoral or scandalous material in reviewing applications, registering those whose messages it agreed with and rejecting more disagreeable messages. Three justices would have preserved the PTO’s right to refuse to register vulgar expressions that were traditionally outside of First Amendment protection, although they agreed with the outcome in this case.

In 2024, the Court addressed another Lanham Act provision. This time, the question was whether the provision barring the registration of a name without the namesake’s consent violated the First Amendment.

Vidal v. Elster, 602 U.S. — (2024)

Steve Elster attempted to register the slogan “Trump too small” for use on shirts and hats, but the PTO rejected his application because of its requirement that he obtain the consent of the namesake. He challenged this provision of the Lanham Act on the grounds that it imposed content-based discrimination that could not withstand strict scrutiny. The Court unanimously rejected his claim, but Justice Thomas only obtained four other justices’ support for his history-based justification of the Court’s decision. Thomas argued that common law trademark law always required the consent of a namesake, and that this had never been seen as presenting a conflict with the First Amendment. Only he, the Chief Justice, and Justices Alito, Kavanaugh and Gorsuch believed that this history was sufficient to reject Elster’s novel challenge to the Lanham Act. Justice Barrett obtained the support of three other justices in rejecting the majority’s exclusive reliance on a historical test. Not only did she criticize Thomas for selectively using history, she also viewed the trademark registry as a limited public forum, which required further analysis of the constitutionality of the relevant provision of the Lanham Act. Barrett, Sotomayor, Kagan and Jackson all found that the ban on name use without consent was reasonable in light of the purpose of trademark registration, but they believed this should have been the sole basis of the Court’s decision.

Justice Clarence Thomas:

Steve Elster sought to register the trademark “Trump too small.” But, the Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) refused to register the mark because the Lanham Act prohibits registration of a trademark that “[c]onsists of or comprises a name . . . identifying a particular living individual except by his written consent.” 15 U. S. C. §1052(c). Elster contends that this prohibition violates his First Amendment right to free speech. We hold that it does not.

. . . Only marks that meet certain criteria are federally registerable. Among other criteria, the Lanham Act contains what we will call the “names clause”—a prohibition on the registration of a mark that “[c]onsists of or comprises a name . . . identifying a particular living individual except by his written consent.” §1052(c). The names clause excludes from registration “not only full names but also surnames, shortened names, and nicknames, so long as the name does in fact identify a particular living individual.”

Steve Elster sought to register the trademark “Trump too small,” accompanied by an illustration of a hand gesture, to use on shirts and hats. The mark draws on an exchange between then-candidate Donald Trump and Senator Marco Rubio during a 2016 Presidential primary debate.

The PTO examiner refused registration under the names clause because the mark used President Trump’s name without his consent. The Trademark Trial and Appeal Board affirmed, and it also rejected Elster’s argument that the names clause violates his First Amendment right to free speech. The Federal Circuit reversed, holding that the names clause violated the First Amendment. In re Elster, 26 F. 4th 1328 (CA Fed. 2022). The court first concluded that the names clause is a viewpoint-neutral, content-based restriction on speech subject to at least intermediate scrutiny. It next concluded that the Government could not satisfy even intermediate scrutiny because the names clause does not advance any substantial governmental interest. . . .

In general, we have held that the First Amendment prohibits the Government from restricting or burdenig “expression because of its message, its ideas, its subject matter, or its content.” Ashcroft v. American Civil Liberties Union535 U.S. 564, 573 (2002). “When enforcing this prohibition, our precedents distinguish between content-based and content-neutral regulations of speech.” National Institute of Family and Life Advocates v. Becerra, 585 U.S. 755, 766 (2018). A content-based regulation “target[s] speech based on its communicative content,” restricting discussion of a subject matter or topic. Reed v. Town of Gilbert576 U.S. 155, 163 (2015). “As a general matter,” a content-based regulation is “ ‘presumptively unconstitutional and may be justified only if the government proves that [it is] narrowly tailored to serve compelling state interests.’ ” National Institute of Family and Life Advocates, 585 U. S., at 766. Our precedents distinguish further a particularly “egregious form of content discrimination”—viewpoint discrimination. Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va.515 U.S. 819, 829 (1995). A viewpoint-based regulation targets not merely a subject matter, “but particular views taken by speakers on a subject.” It is also generally subject to heightened scrutiny, though viewpoint discrimination’s “violation of the First Amendment is . . . more blatant.” Id. Because our precedents dictate that these distinctions inform our assessment under the First Amendment, we start with them to evaluate the names clause.

In the trademark context, we have twice concluded that trademark restrictions that discriminate based on viewpoint violate the First Amendment. In Matal v. Tam, 582 U.S. 218, 223 (2017), we held that the Lanham Act’s bar on disparaging trademarks violated the First Amendment. All Justices in Tam agreed that this bar was viewpoint based because it prohibited trademarks based only on one viewpoint: “[g]iving offense.” And, in Brunetti, we held that the Lanham Act’s bar on trademarks containing immoral or scandalous matter likewise violated the First Amendment. We concluded that the bar was viewpoint based because it prohibited trademarks based only on one viewpoint, immoral or scandalous matter, while permitting trademarks based on other viewpoints.

The names clause does not facially discriminate against any viewpoint. No matter the message a registrant wants to convey, the names clause prohibits marks that use another person’s name without consent. It does not matter “whether the use of [the] name is flattering, critical or neutral.”  The Government is thus not singling out a trademark “based on the specific motivating ideology or the opinion or perspective of the speaker.” Reed, 576 U. S., at 168. . . .

Although the names clause is not viewpoint based, it is content based. As we have explained, a restriction on speech is content based if the “law applies to particular speech because of the topic discussed or the idea or message expressed.” Reed, 576 U. S., at 163. The names clause turns on the content of the proposed trademark—whether it contains a person’s name. If the trademark does contain a person’s name, and the registrant lacks that person’s consent, then the names clause prohibits registration. Because trademarks containing names “are treated differently from [trademarks] conveying other types of ideas,” the names clause is content based. Id., at 164.

We thus confront a situation we did not address in Tam or Brunetti. . . .

Because we must now consider for the first time the constitutionality of a content-based—but viewpoint-neutral—trademark restriction, we begin by addressing how the nature of trademark law informs the applicable constitutional scrutiny. Although a content-based regulation of speech is presumptively unconstitutional as a general matter, we have not decided whether heightened scrutiny extends to a viewpoint-neutral trademark restriction. Several features of trademark counsel against a per se rule of applying heightened scrutiny to viewpoint-neutral, but content-based trademark regulations.

Most importantly, trademark rights have always coexisted with the First Amendment, despite the fact that trademark protection necessarily requires content-based distinctions. . . .

Our country has recognized trademark rights since the founding. At the outset, there were few recorded decisions, and the law developed slowly. Much of early American trademark law “was lifted essentially from that of England.” The protection of trademarks under English law was an inherently content-based endeavor. . . .

Recorded trademark law began to take off in the last decades of the 19th century—after the ratification of the Fourteenth Amendment in 1868—and its established content-based nature continued.  American commerce became more national in character, and, perhaps because of this shift, Congress enacted the first federal trademark law in 1870. Although States retained their important role, “Congress stepped in to provide a degree of national uniformity” for trademark protection. Tam, 582 U. S., at 224.

This first law contained prohibitions on what could be protected as a trademark. For example, the law would not protect a trademark that contained “merely the name of a person . . . only, unaccompanied by a mark sufficient to distinguish it from the same name when used by other persons.” It thus restricted a trademark based upon its content (i.e., whether it contained more than a name). As trademark disputes increased, courts continued to assess trademarks based on their content. For example, this Court’s first trademark decision explained that a trademark cannot consist of a purely geographical name, rejecting an attempt by one of several coal producers in Pennsylvania’s Lackawanna Valley to trademark “Lackawanna coal.” Canal Co. v. Clark, 13 Wall. 311, 321 (1872). Throughout its development, trademark law has required content-based distinctions.

That did not change when Congress enacted the Lanham Act in 1946. The Act’s comprehensive system for federal registration of trademarks continues to distinguish based on a mark’s content. The Act defines a trademark to include “any word, name, symbol, or device, or any combination thereof ” that a person uses “to identify and distinguish his or her goods . . . from those manufactured or sold by others and to indicate the source of the goods.” §1127. When the Government defines what may be registered as a trademark, it necessarily decides that some words or images cannot be used in a mark. To take one example, the Lanham Act bars the registration of “a mark which so resembles [another’s] mark . . . as to be likely . . . to cause confusion, or to cause mistake, or to deceive.” §1052(d). It is impossible to determine whether one trademark is the same as (or confusingly similar to) another without looking at the content of the two marks.

This history, reflected in the Lanham Act still today, demonstrates that restrictions on trademarks have always turned on a mark’s content. But, despite its content-based nature, trademark law has existed alongside the First Amendment from the beginning. That longstanding, harmonious relationship suggests that heightened scrutiny need not always apply in this unique context. . . .

Because of the uniquely content-based nature of trademark regulation and the longstanding coexistence of trademark regulation with the First Amendment, we need not evaluate a solely content-based restriction on trademark registration under heightened scrutiny.

We have acknowledged that trademark rights and restrictions can “play well with the First Amendment.” Jack Daniel’s, 599 U. S., at 159. In this case, we do not delineate an exhaustive framework for when a content-based trademark restriction passes muster under the First Amendment. But, in evaluating a solely content-based trademark restriction, we can consider its history and tradition, as we have done before when considering the scope of the First Amendment.

The Lanham Act’s names clause has deep roots in our legal tradition. Our courts have long recognized that trademarks containing names may be restricted. And, these name restrictions served established principles. This history and tradition is sufficient to conclude that the names clause—a content-based, but viewpoint-neutral, trademark restriction—is compatible with the First Amendment. We need look no further in this case.

Restrictions on trademarking names have a long history. Such restrictions have historically been grounded in the notion that a person has ownership over his own name, and that he may not be excluded from using that name by another’s trademark. As the Court has explained, “[a] man’s name is his own property, and he has the same right to its use and enjoyment as he has to that of any other species of property.” Brown Chemical Co. v. Meyer139 U.S. 540, 544 (1891). It is therefore “an elementary principle that every man is entitled to the use of his own name in his own business.” F. Treadway, Personal Trade-Names, 6 Yale L. J. 141, 143–144 (1897) (Treadway). . .

Recognizing a person’s ownership over his name, the common law restricted the trademarking of names. It prevented a person from trademarking any name—even his own—by itself. In “the early years of trademark law,” courts recognized that “ there can be no trade-mark in the name of a person, because . . . every person has the right to use his own name for the purposes of trade.”

The common law did, however, allow a person to obtain a trademark containing his own name—with a caveat: A person could not use a mark containing his name to the exclusion of a person with the same name. “A corollary of the right to use one’s own name and identity in trade is the right to stop others from doing so—at least those who don’t share the same name.” J. Rothman, Navigating the Identity Thicket, 135 Harv. L. Rev. 1271, 1306 (2022). In other words, a person’s right to his name cannot be exclusive as to other people bearing the same name: John Smith cannot acquire a trademark that prohibits other John Smiths from using their own names. Consider the case of John L. Faber and John H. Faber, two men who independently manufactured lead pencils near Nuremberg, Germany. Both men stamped the pencils they manufactured with their shared surname. After recognizing that each man “had the right to put his own name on his own pencils,” the New York Supreme Court declined to allow one man to effectively trademark the other man’s name. Faber v. Faber, 3 Abb. Pr. (N. S.) 115, 116 (1867).

We see no evidence that the common law afforded protection to a person seeking a trademark of another living person’s name. To the contrary, English courts recognized that selling a product under another person’s name could be actionable fraud. Relatedly, one could contract for the use of another person’s name in his business. Such contracts would make little sense if one could use another living person’s name in business at will. The common-law approach to trademarking names thus protected only a person’s right to use his own name.

This common-law understanding carried over into federal statutory law. The first federal trademark law contained a requirement that a trademark contain more than merely a name. See Act of July 8, 1870, §79, 16 Stat. 211. That requirement remains largely intact. . . .  It is thus unsurprising that the Lanham Act included the names clause, prohibiting the registration of a mark containing “a name . . . identifying a particular living individual except by his written consent.” §1052(c). The names clause reflects the common law’s careful treatment of names when it comes to trademarks.

The restriction on trademarking names also reflects trademark law’s historical rationale of identifying the source of goods.  Trademark protection ensures that consumers know the source of a product and can thus evaluate it based upon the manufacturer’s reputation and goodwill. By barring a person from using another’s name, the names clause reflects the traditional rationale of ensuring that consumers make no mistake about who is responsible for a product.

Moreover, the names clause respects the established connection between a trademark and its protection of the markholder’s reputation. We have long recognized that a trademark protects the markholder’s reputation. . . .

We conclude that a tradition of restricting the trademarking of names has coexisted with the First Amendment, and the names clause fits within that tradition. Though the particulars of the doctrine have shifted over time, the consistent through line is that a person generally had a claim only to his own name. The names clause reflects this common-law tradition by prohibiting a person from obtaining a trademark of another living person’s name without consent, thereby protecting the other’s reputation and goodwill. . . .

Despite the differences in methodology, both Justice Sotomayor and Justice Barrett reach the same conclusion that the names clause does not violate the First Amendment. On the bottom line, there is no dispute. Rather than adopt a reasonableness test premised upon loose analogies, however, we conclude that the names clause is grounded in a historical tradition sufficient to demonstrate that it does not run afoul of the First Amendment.

 

Justice Amy Comey Barrett, joined by Justice Kagan in full and Justices Sotomayor and Jackson in part, concurring in the decision:

While I agree with the Court that the names clause does not violate the First Amendment, I disagree with some of its reasoning. The Court claims that “history and tradition” settle the constitutionality of the names clause, rendering it unnecessary to adopt a standard for gauging whether a content-based trademark registration restriction abridges the right to free speech. That is wrong twice over. First, the Court’s evidence, consisting of loosely related cases from the late-19th and early-20th centuries, does not establish a historical analogue for the names clause. Second, the Court never explains why hunting for historical forebears on a restriction-by-restriction basis is the right way to analyze the constitutional question. I would adopt a standard, grounded in both trademark law and First Amendment precedent, that reflects the relationship between content-based trademark registration restrictions and free speech. In my view, such restrictions, whether new or old, are permissible so long as they are reasonable in light of the trademark system’s purpose of facilitating source identification. . . .

I agree with the Court that content-based trademark registration restrictions do not trigger the presumption of unconstitutionality. . . . More than a century’s worth of precedent reflects that trademark law has always been content based without functioning as a ready tool of Government censorship. The First Amendment does not require us to upend this longstanding, stable system by treating trademark restrictions as “presumptively unconstitutional.” . . .

[C]ontent discrimination has long been “necessary for [trademark’s] purposes and limitations.” The law protects trademarks because they help consumers identify the goods that they intend to purchase and allow producers to “reap the financial rewards associated with the[ir] product’s good reputation.” Jack Daniel’s Properties, Inc. v. VIP Products LLC, 599 U.S. 140, 146 (2023). But trademarks can only fulfill these twin goals if they actually serve as source identifiers. . . . ,

These content-based trademark rules have long coexisted with the Free Speech Clause, and their function is generally compatible with it. Courts have applied content-based rules not to “suppres[s] . . . ideas,” but simply to serve trademark law’s purposes. Indeed, these trademark restrictions can actually help prevent “interfere[nce] with the marketplace of ideas,” insofar as they ensure that a single producer cannot exclusively appropriate words or phrases in the general domain. This is not to say that the Government could not abuse content-based trademark registration restrictions. . . .

Though content-based registration restrictions do not trigger strict scrutiny, they are still subject to judicial review. Thus, we must decide how to evaluate Elster’s challenge to the names clause.

The Solicitor General suggests that we draw an analogy to another area that is inherently content based: the limited public forum. When the government opens its property to speech for a particular purpose, creating a limited public forum, it necessarily must “reserv[e the property] for certain groups or for the discussion of certain topics.” Rosenberger v. Rector and Visitors of Univ. of Va.515 U.S. 819, 829 (1995). Content-based restrictions are “inherent and inescapable” in maintaining a forum for speech “compatible with the intended purpose of the property.” Perry Ed. Assn. v. Perry Local Educators’ Assn.460 U.S. 37, 49 (1983). It is therefore inappropriate to view these restrictions as presumptively unconstitutional and apply strict scrutiny. Still, not every restriction is permissible. To evaluate these rules, we ask “whether they are reasonable in light of the purpose which the forum at issue serves.” This ensures that the government “respect[s] the lawful boundaries it has itself set.” Rosenberger, 515 U. S., at 829.

Though I would not shoehorn the trademark registration system into the definition of a “limited public forum,” the Solicitor General’s analogy is apt. Content discrimination is “[i]mplicit in the concept of” the trademark registration system much like it is in a limited public forum. Perry, 460 U. S., at 49. . . .

Content-based criteria for trademark registration do not abridge the right to free speech so long as they reasonably relate to the preservation of the markowner’s goodwill and the prevention of consumer confusion. A particular restriction will serve those goals if it helps ensure that registered marks actually function as source identifiers. Notably, “the lead criterion for registration is that the mark ‘in fact serve as a “trademark” to identify and distinguish goods.’”  Other registration criteria help to carry out that threshold requirement. For instance, the Lanham Act prohibits the registration of marks that are “merely descriptive” of the applicant’s goods. 15 U. S. C. §1052(e)(1). As courts frequently explained in the early years of trademark, marks that simply describe the kind and quality of the good do not necessarily identify its source. The bar on registering “deceptive” marks likewise prevents registered marks from misidentifying the source of the goods. §1052(a).

The names clause passes muster under this test. A trademark that includes another living person’s name without her consent has the obvious potential to create source confusion. Further, the clause helps protect producer goodwill. By freely using another person’s name in her mark, the markowner can unfairly capitalize on the reputation of the named individual, who may be a producer in her own right. Conversely, if the markowner’s goods or services are shoddy, she might jeopardize the named individual’s reputation.

Elster protests that consumers would not assume that Donald Trump is responsible for the mark “‘Trump too small.’” Thus, he argues that even if the names clause generally guards against source confusion, refusing to register his proposed mark does not. But Congress is entitled to make categorical judgments, particularly where heightened scrutiny does not apply. The Government can reasonably determine that, on the whole, protecting marks that include another living person’s name without consent risks undermining the goals of trademark. The names clause is therefore constitutional, both facially and as applied to Elster’s mark.

Rather than adopt a generally applicable principle, the Court assesses the names clause in isolation, treating the supposed history and tradition of the clause as determinative. In my view, the historical record does not alone suffice to demonstrate the clause’s constitutionality. For one thing, the record does not support the Court’s conclusion. For another, I disagree with its choice to treat tradition as dispositive of the First Amendment issue.

. . . I agree that the names clause helps to ensure that the proposed mark functions as a source identifier and to guard against reputational consequences, serving trademark’s historical goals.

But I cannot agree with the Court that the existence of a “common-law tradition” and a “historical analogue” is sufficient to resolve this case. Even if the Court’s evidence were rock solid, I still would not adopt this approach. To be sure, tradition has a legitimate role to play in constitutional adjudication. For instance, the longstanding practice of the political branches can reinforce our understanding of the Constitution’s original meaning. A course of deliberate practice might liquidate ambiguous constitutional provisions. See The Federalist No. 37. The views of preceding generations can persuade, and, in the realm of stare decisis, even bind. But tradition is not an end in itself—and I fear that the Court uses it that way here.

The Court does not (and could not) argue that the late-19th and early-20th century names-restriction tradition serves as evidence of the original meaning of the Free Speech Clause. Nor does it treat the history it recites as a persuasive data point. Instead, it presents tradition itself as the constitutional argument; the late-19th and early-20th century evidence is dispositive of the First Amendment issue. Yet what is the theoretical justification for using tradition that way?

Relying exclusively on history and tradition may seem like a way of avoiding judge-made tests. But a rule rendering tradition dispositive is itself a judge-made test. And I do not see a good reason to resolve this case using that approach rather than by adopting a generally applicable principle. In the course of applying broadly worded text like the Free Speech Clause, courts must inevitably articulate principles to resolve individual cases. I do not think we can or should avoid doing so here. . . .

Trademark protection cannot exist without content discrimination. So long as content-based registration restrictions reasonably relate to the purposes of the trademark system, they are constitutional. The names clause clears this bar. I respectfully concur in part.


  1. 15 U.S.C. §1052(a).

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