Case v. Montana

The central conflict is whether the Fourth Amendment requires police to have 'probable cause'—a high standard of proof—before entering a home for a medical or mental health emergency. Trevor Case's lawyers argued that any warrantless home entry, whether for a criminal investigation or a wellness check, demands this high bar to protect the sanctity of the home. Probable cause requires police to have enough facts to believe there is a 'fair probability' that a life-threatening emergency is actively occurring inside.

Montana, the respondent, argued that forcing police to meet the criminal standard of probable cause in a rescue situation is dangerously inappropriate. They contended it would paralyze officers, forcing them to hesitate and second-guess their decisions while a person inside could be dying. Instead, they advocated for a more flexible standard, such as an 'objectively reasonable basis' for believing someone needs help. This lower bar would allow officers to use their training and judgment to intervene in ambiguous situations without fear of a lawsuit if their assessment turns out to be wrong.

During arguments, the justices explored this tension. Chief Justice Roberts questioned whether the term 'probable cause' was simply borrowed from the wrong context, suggesting a new standard like 'probable concern' might be more appropriate for non-criminal, emergency aid situations. The ultimate decision will determine the balance between protecting citizens' privacy in their homes and empowering first responders to act decisively to save lives.

This question reveals a fundamental disagreement in how to interpret police knowledge. Trevor Case's lawyer made the surprising argument that the officers' extensive history with his client's empty threats actually weakened their justification for entering his home. They pointed to body camera footage where an officer stated, 'He ain't got the guts, this is probably the tenth time I've dealt with him doing this.' The lawyer argued this proved the officers did not genuinely believe there was an immediate, life-threatening emergency, but rather suspected Case was attempting to lure them into a 'suicide by cop' confrontation.

Conversely, Montana and several justices argued that the prior history, combined with new, alarming information like the sound of a gun racking, made the situation more dangerous, not less. Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson told Case's lawyer she found his argument 'very odd,' stating that the police's deep familiarity with the individual should strengthen, not weaken, their basis for taking action. From her perspective, knowing Case's patterns and history provided crucial context for evaluating the new threats, making their concern more, not less, reasonable.

This dispute shows that the 'totality of the circumstances' is not a simple calculation. The same facts—a history of crying wolf—can be interpreted in opposite ways. For one side, it's evidence of a non-emergency. For the other, it's the baseline against which new, more credible threats must be judged, justifying a more urgent response. The Court's decision will likely clarify how an officer's past experience with an individual should factor into the legality of an emergency entry.

Despite a mountain of alarming evidence, the legal debate centered on whether it met the specific, high standard of 'probable cause' for a warrantless home entry. The petitioner, representing Trevor Case, argued that even with a frantic 911 call, the sound of a gun, a dead phone line, and a visible suicide note and empty holster, the police still did not have a 'fair probability' of a life-or-death emergency unfolding at that exact moment.

This argument was met with extreme skepticism from some justices. Justice Samuel Alito, after listing all the evidence, bluntly asked the petitioner's lawyer, 'I mean, what more did they need?' This question highlighted the potential absurdity of the petitioner's proposed rule in practice. If this overwhelming set of facts did not constitute probable cause for an emergency entry, it suggests the standard is so high that it would be nearly impossible for police to meet in most real-world crises.

The petitioner's lawyer struggled to answer directly, instead trying to reframe the issue around the officers' subjective beliefs based on their past dealings with Mr. Case. He argued that their 40-minute delay before entering and their comments on body cameras showed they were preparing for a planned confrontation, not responding to an imminent medical crisis. This exchange became a key moment in the argument, starkly contrasting a strict, technical legal standard with the practical, urgent decisions officers must make with the information they have.

The primary fear is that a strict legal rule would lead to 'deadly hesitation,' causing police to delay or avoid intervention in genuine emergencies. Montana argued that if officers must meet the high bar of 'probable cause,' they will be forced to second-guess themselves while standing on a doorstep, weighing the risk of a lawsuit against the possibility of saving a life. This concern is that officers, fearing personal or professional liability for a mistaken entry, will choose the safer option of walking away, potentially leading to a preventable death.

This anxiety was powerfully articulated by Justice Brett Kavanaugh. He posed a stark hypothetical to the petitioner's lawyer, asking what people would think of the officers if 'after deliberations, they walk away and he commits suicide.' This question framed the legal decision in terms of its most tragic potential outcome, focusing on the immense public and professional pressure on officers to act decisively when a life may be on the line.

However, the lawyer for Trevor Case argued that the opposite risk is just as severe. A lower, more flexible standard could encourage police to perform more wellness checks, increasing the number of forced entries into private homes. This raises the danger of escalating situations, particularly with individuals in a mental health crisis, into violent and tragic confrontations—exactly what happened when police entered Case's home and shot him. The Supreme Court must therefore weigh these competing harms: the risk of inaction versus the risk of a botched intervention.

Yes, the Supreme Court can often resolve a case on narrow, technical grounds without answering the broad question it was asked to consider. This is sometimes called finding an 'off-ramp,' and it allows the Court to correct a lower court's specific error while waiting for a future case with a cleaner set of facts to set a major precedent.

During oral arguments, Justice Sonia Sotomayor appeared to identify such an off-ramp. She closely questioned Montana's lawyer about the legal reasoning used by the state's lower court. She pointed out that the court had cited a previous decision, Lovegren, which seemed to permit entry based on a standard even weaker than 'reasonable suspicion'—a very low bar that most legal experts agree is insufficient to justify entering a home. She pointedly asked Montana's lawyer if the Supreme Court should simply ignore that problematic citation.

This line of questioning provides a path for a narrow ruling. The Court could decide that it doesn't need to determine whether 'probable cause' is the correct standard, because the Montana court clearly used the wrong standard regardless. They could vacate the lower court's decision and send the case back with instructions to re-evaluate the facts under a proper legal test. The fact that Montana's lawyer conceded the lower court used 'imprecise language' only makes this path easier for the justices to take if they wish to avoid making a definitive, nationwide rule at this time.