"The Flight 93 election" was a term used by conservatives in 2016 to justify voting for Donald Trump. The basic idea was that, even though Donald Trump was essentially everything we, well, knew he was -- a racist, an idiot, a wrecker -- the absolute, desperate need to stop Hillary Clinton from being elected required action that may well be suicidal. "Charge the cockpit or you die. You may die anyway. [But] if you don’t try, death is certain."
Of course, to state the thesis is to underscore the absurdity-cum-perniciousness: the tier one emergency requiring conservatives to abandon all prudence and storm the cabin, was .... the possibility that a bog-standard Democratic politician might win the presidency. It is the prospect of ordinary democratic governance that was the emergency, and that shouldn't be forgotten. As Jamelle Bouie has noted, a running theme of contemporary conservative ideology is the belief that democratic outcomes are fundamentally illegitimate if they result in traditional White men losing. This is what unifies everything from birtherism to January 6 to the attack on mail-in ballots to great replacement theory.
In that vein, I think we might do well to start thinking of the current Supreme Court as a "Flight 93 Court". Over the past several months, it has interceded again and again -- with increasing levels of recklessness -- to sow chaos into the democratic system to the advantage of the Republican Party and the detriment of Democrats. First (well, not "first", but we'll start here) we had Callais, gutting the Voting Rights Act to enable Republican gerrymanders throughout the south and hopefully net the GOP a few more crucial House seats. Callais was followed by Milligan, and then today the Supreme Court's decision to intercede and (for now -- it's a wonky procedural posture) block a challenge to Donald Trump's efforts to sabotage mail-in voting in advance of November's election.
Aside from their obvious partisan tilt, what stands out about these decisions is their perversion of normal legal rules and processes -- blasting past the Court's own nominal guardrails to reach the preferred political result. The most obvious specific is the so-called Purcell principle, which supposedly forbids courts from issuing late-breaking alterations to the rules governing elections in close proximity to said election, but has very quickly developed the implicit caveat of "...unless doing so would benefit Republicans." But there are others. The Court's slaughtering of Humphrey's Executor -- and not just that they did it, but the way they did it; clearing the path for Trump's firings on an emergency basis notwithstanding the clear then-operative precedents that made them obviously unlawful -- spoke to a Court that is positively scrambling to let Trump consolidate as much power as possible, as fast as possible.
It is no revelation to anyone -- even someone as ideologically cocooned as John Roberts -- that these cases are obliterating the Court's legitimacy. Reforms like Court-packing, once viewed as fringe complaints from sore losers, are rapidly becoming litmus tests for any serious Democrat seeking higher office. It is almost impossible to imagine the Supreme Court surviving in its current form in the next Democratic trifecta. Last year, Justice Barrett lectured critics that "agree or disagree with the decisions that the court reaches ... we are engaged in a legal enterprise." The prevailing sentiment among liberal legal observers is to reject precisely this: that we are well past simply disagreeing with the decision the Court reaches, and into the terrain where the Supreme Court should no longer be viewed as engaging in a legal enterprise at all.
Given this cascading, calamitous drop in the Court's public esteem, what is prompting the Roberts Six to press forward? It's not commitment to legal principle -- again these cases stand out for their lack of consistent principle and their deviation from established precedential and doctrinal pathways. Rather, these cases give the unmistakable sense of a Supreme Court that is ready to do anything and everything -- no matter how reckless or lawless -- to stop the Democratic Party from taking power in 2026 and 2028. Nobody seriously thinks that the Court is announcing "law" in any meaningful sense, if by that we mean principles that will govern Democratic and Republican administrations in equal measure. The Court's rush to intercede to maximize Donald Trump's personal authority will not carry over to a Democratic administration. The Court is throwing caution to the wind because it views a Democratic political triumph as an existential threat. It is the charging the cockpit, knowing it might die.
Much like the original "Flight 93" justification, we shouldn't lose sight of the fact that, for the most part, the existential emergency prompting the Court's charge is little more than the prospect of Democrats winning. I'll concede there is a slight difference in this context because of the aforementioned emergent Democratic consensus that the Supreme Court needs to be utterly transformed at the nearest possible opportunity -- but again, that is a tide of revolutionary sentiment that is entirely of their own making. A regular, modest conservative Court would not have prompted this sort of backlash (precisely because, to crib from Justice Barrett, legal professionals do know how to distinguish between outcomes they disagree with and outright judicial lawlessness).
So the Court is locked in on its path. It will endorse all of Trump's lawlessness, it will imperil democracy itself. It may kill us all in the process. But standing in the ruins of a shattered electoral system, they'll at least be able to tell themselves that they did everything they could to stop Democrats from winning.