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Since the Founding era, governments have banned guns in places where weapons threaten activities of public life. The Supreme Court reaffirmed this tradition of “sensitive places” regulation in District of Columbia v. Heller, and locational restrictions on weapons have become a central Second Amendment battleground in the aftermath of New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen. Liberals have criticized Bruen for requiring public safety laws to mimic founding practice, while conservatives have criticized it for licensing regulatory change not within the original understanding. In this Essay we argue that Bruen’s analogical method looks to the past to guide change in weapons regulation, not to foreclose change. We illustrate the kinds of sensitive-place regulations Bruen authorizes with examples spanning several centuries, and close by demonstrating—contrary to recent court decisions—that a 1994 federal law prohibiting gun possession by persons subject to a domestic violence restraining order is constitutional under Bruen.

Where some imagine the past as a land of all guns and no laws, this Article shows how weapons regulation of the past can guide public safety regulation of the present. Governments traditionally have protected activities against weapons threats in sites of governance and education: places where bonds of democratic community are formed and reproduced. We argue that Bruen’s historical-analogical method allows government to protect against weapons threats in new settings—including those of commerce and transportation—so long as these locational restrictions respect historical tradition both in terms of “why” and “how” they burden the right to keep and bear arms.

At the heart of this Article is a simple claim: That Bruen’s analogical method enables public safety laws to evolve in step with the gun-related harms they address. Bruen does not require the asymmetrical and selective approach to constitutional change practiced by some in its name. Just as Bruen extends the right of self-defense to weaponry of the twenty-first century, it also recognizes democracy’s competence to protect against weapons threats of the twenty-first century.

We apply these principles to demonstrate the constitutionality of the federal law prohibiting gun possession by people subject to a domestic violence restraining order, which the Supreme Court is currently considering in United States v. Rahimi.

In a world in which liberals and conservatives disagree about almost everything, there is one important point on which surprising numbers of liberals and conservatives agree: They view the Court’s modern substantive due process decisions as repeating the constitutional wrongs of Lochner. In this Article, we draw on the history of modern substantive due process cases to refute the Lochner objection and to show how these cases demonstrate the democratic potential of judicial review often questioned in contemporary debates over court reform.

In the late 1930s, the Court repudiated Lochner while affirming the importance of judicial review in securing our constitutional democracy. In Carolene Products Footnote Four, the Court famously staked out a continuing role for “more searching judicial inquiry” in cases where “prejudice . . . tends seriously to curtail the operation of those political processes ordinarily to be relied upon to protect minorities.” Yet our understanding of the Carolene Products framework dates not to the 1938 decision but instead to the 1980s. In Democracy and Distrust, John Hart Ely developed Footnote Four into a liberal theory of representation-reinforcing judicial review that endorsed decisions protecting certain rights— voting, speech, and equal protection, specifically Brown v. Board of Education— and repudiated decisions protecting other rights—specifically substantive due process. Ely published his attack on substantive due process in 1980, just as conservatives elected President Reagan to overturn Roe v. Wade.

With the benefit of the intervening forty years, this Article revisits and reassesses Ely’s now-canonical interpretation of the Carolene Products framework. We answer the “Lochner objection” by showing how modern substantive due process claims were candidates for close judicial scrutiny in the Carolene Products framework; how the claimants’ strategies of “speaking out” and “coming out” were efforts to be heard in democratic politics; and how bottom-up mobilization around courts can be democracy-promoting in ways that Ely did not imagine. In short, we show that Ely had the big idea that judicial review could be democracy-promoting, but he argued his case on faulty premises. Democracy and Distrust bore significant influence of the traditions and the cultural forces Ely argued against. We show what Ely missed, not because we imagine federal courts are now likely to act as they did in the 1970s, but rather because Ely’s framing of these cases has become dominant and shapes the ways Americans continue to debate the role of courts. We examine the arguments of the claimants in the modern substantive due process cases—then unrepresented in positions of legal authority—and reason about their cases in light of scholarship on the ways family structures citizenship, and on the different roles of courts in a democracy, that has evolved in the four decades since Ely wrote.

What might this reconsideration of the modern substantive due process cases suggest about the ongoing debate over the role of federal courts in a constitutional democracy? This Article does not engage with the particulars of court reform, but it does shed light on certain fundamental premises of that debate. Our analysis rules out one commonly cited justification for reform: that judicial restrictions on legislative sovereignty are by definition antidemocratic and that the modern substantive due process cases are the classic illustration. We show the many ways in which judicial intervention in these cases was democracy-promoting. As one looks at concrete lines of cases and structural features of courts, one can ask about the democracy-promoting and democracy-inhibiting ways that courts perform and pose more discriminating questions about the goals of court reform—whether to adopt reforms that make courts more independent, less polarized, more open, and more democratically responsive, or to limit their role in all or certain areas of a democratic order.