The Case for Cameras at Supreme Court Arguments

On the morning of May 4, 2020, the Supreme Court of the United States did something it had never done in its history: it let the public listen to an oral argument as it happened. The building was closed because of the pandemic. The justices were scattered, each in a home or chambers, dialed into a conference call. The case was about whether a travel website called Booking.com could trademark its own name, which is not the sort of question that usually draws a crowd. But thousands of people tuned in anyway, through news sites and radio stations, to hear something strange and slightly thrilling: the voices of the nine justices, taking turns in order of seniority, asking questions in real time. The sky did not fall. The arguments were, if anything, more orderly than usual. And a door that had been shut for more than two centuries was suddenly, at least for the ear, open.

In short: The Supreme Court has offered live audio of its arguments since May 2020 and has kept it since returning to the courtroom. Here is the case for the next step, video, along with a fair account of the justices' objections: grandstanding, misleading clips, security and the Court's sense of its own dignity. The objections are real, but most of them have answers, and other high courts in the United States and abroad have shown that cameras can work.

How the Court got to audio

For most of its history, the Court treated its arguments as public in only the most literal sense. Anyone could attend, if they could get to Washington and wait in line for one of the limited seats. Audio recordings existed from the 1950s onward, but they were sent to the National Archives and released only after the term ended, months later.

Change came slowly and usually in response to pressure. In December 2000, during the litigation over the presidential election recount in Florida, the Court released audio of the arguments in Bush v. Gore the same day, a recognition that the country was watching and deserved to hear. It did so again in a handful of other major cases over the following years. In 2010, the Court began posting audio of every argument at the end of each week. Transcripts became available the same day.

Then came 2020. Faced with a closed building and cases that could not wait, the Court held arguments by telephone and allowed news organizations to carry the audio live. The format was imperfect. Justices sometimes talked over one another or lost track of whose turn it was. But it worked, and when the justices returned to the courtroom in the fall of 2021, they kept the live audio. In 2026, anyone with an internet connection can listen to the Court's arguments as they happen. What they cannot do is see them.

What is being withheld, exactly

The Court's argument sessions are not secret deliberations. They are public proceedings in a public building, open to anyone who can get a seat. The only thing that keeps most Americans from seeing them is the size of the room and the cost of getting there.

Video would show what any spectator in the courtroom can already see: which justice is speaking, how the lawyers respond, the visible texture of the exchange. It would not reveal anything about the Court's private conferences, where the justices actually vote and argue among themselves. Those would remain as closed as they are now.

This matters because the Court is the least visible branch of government and, in 2026, one of the most consequential. Congress debates on television; the House and Senate have broadcast their floor proceedings for decades. The president's public appearances are filmed constantly. The Court decides questions about elections, abortion, guns, immigration, the environment and the powers of the presidency, and the public sees almost none of it.

The justices' objections, stated fairly

The justices who have opposed cameras are not simply being stubborn, and their arguments deserve a careful hearing.

Grandstanding. Several justices have worried that lawyers and even justices would play to the cameras, turning serious legal argument into performance. Questions might be designed for a viral clip rather than to test an argument.

Misleading clips. Oral argument is a strange format. Justices often ask questions that do not reflect their views, testing a lawyer by pushing an argument to its extreme. A thirty-second clip of a justice asking a hypothetical could be presented as that justice's position, and the Court has no way to correct the record.

Security and anonymity. Most justices can walk through an airport or a grocery store without being recognized. Regular video would make their faces far more familiar, and in a period of serious threats against judges, that is not a trivial concern.

Institutional dignity. Some justices have argued that part of the Court's authority comes from its distance from ordinary politics, and that turning it into one more thing on television would erode the public's sense that it is a different kind of institution.

It ain't broke. Finally, there is the argument from tradition: the Court has worked without cameras for more than two hundred years, and the burden should be on those who want to change it.

Justice David Souter, during a 1996 congressional hearing, famously told lawmakers that cameras would enter the courtroom only over his dead body. Other justices have expressed openness at their confirmation hearings and then grown more cautious once on the bench. That pattern is itself worth noticing.

The answers

Here is the case, and it is an argument for a change, not a neutral summary.

On grandstanding, the live audio experiment is the best evidence available. If justices and lawyers were going to perform for an audience, live audio would have shown it, because every word is now broadcast. By most accounts, the arguments have not become noticeably more theatrical since 2020. The lawyers who appear before the Court are among the most disciplined advocates in the country, and their clients' cases depend on persuading the justices, not the public.

On misleading clips, the problem already exists. Audio clips of justices' questions are cut and circulated now, including on television news with a still photo of the justice. Video would not create the risk; it would add a visual to it. And the remedy for a misleading clip is wide access to the full recording, so that anyone can check context.

On security, the concern is serious and should shape the rules. The Court could choose a fixed camera angle, limit footage to the argument session itself and control how it is distributed. But the justices' faces are already widely known through photographs, confirmation hearings, speeches and book tours. The marginal effect of argument video on their recognizability is likely small compared with what already exists.

On dignity, the experience of other courts suggests the opposite effect. State supreme courts across the country allow cameras in some form, and many stream their arguments routinely. The Supreme Court of the United Kingdom has allowed its hearings to be filmed since it opened in 2009 and now streams them online, and the Supreme Court of Canada makes webcasts of its hearings available. Those courts have not been reduced to entertainment. If anything, letting the public watch careful, serious argument tends to strengthen respect for the institution.

On tradition, the Court has already moved. It went from no audio to end-of-term audio to weekly audio to live audio. Each step was resisted, and each turned out fine. Video is the next step on the same path, not a leap into the unknown.

Why it matters to a democracy

There is a larger argument here about trust. Public confidence in the Supreme Court fell sharply in national polls after the Dobbs leak and decision in 2022, and the Court has faced continuing questions about ethics, gifts and recusal. An institution facing a crisis of trust has two options: ask the public to take its integrity on faith, or let the public see more.

Video would not resolve deep disagreements about the Court's decisions. It would not make anyone like a ruling they dislike. But it would let people see for themselves how the justices engage with arguments, how seriously they take opposing views and how the lawyers on both sides make their case. That is the kind of exposure that tends to build understanding over time, including for people who disagree with the outcome.

There is also an equity argument. Seats in the courtroom are limited, and the people who get them are disproportionately those who can travel to Washington, take time off and wait in line, sometimes overnight. Video would extend the same access to a student in a rural school, a worker on a lunch break and a veteran who cannot travel. Democracy should not depend on proximity to the Capitol.

Teachers have a particular stake in this. Civics classes now use the Court's audio recordings and transcripts to show students how constitutional arguments work, but an audio file of nine voices is hard for a teenager to follow without knowing who is speaking. Video would make the Court's work far easier to teach, and it would let students see that the justices are people weighing hard questions, not distant figures issuing decrees. A generation that has watched the Court argue may be more inclined to trust it, or at least to criticize it with more understanding of how it works.

Who could make it happen

The Court controls its own courtroom, and most observers believe that a change will have to come from the justices themselves. Members of Congress from both parties have introduced bills over the years that would require or permit cameras in the Supreme Court; Senators Chuck Grassley of Iowa and Dick Durbin of Illinois have been among the sponsors at different times. None has become law, and any such law could raise separation-of-powers questions, since Congress would be dictating how the Court runs its own proceedings.

That leaves persuasion. The live audio decision shows that the Court can change its practices when circumstances force the question. A gradual approach could start with video of selected arguments, released after the session rather than live, and build from there. The federal judiciary has run pilot programs with cameras in some lower courts, which gives the Court a body of experience to draw on.

It is also a question on which progressives and conservatives can find real agreement. Transparency advocates on the left and populists on the right both distrust institutions that conduct public business out of sight. A bipartisan push from senators who confirm the justices, combined with sustained public interest, is the most realistic way forward.

What the telephone changed inside the Court

The live audio experiment did not only change what the public heard. It changed how the justices argued, and one change in particular suggests that the Court can adapt its procedures more than it sometimes admits.

In the courtroom, Supreme Court arguments had long been a free-for-all. Justices interrupted the lawyers and one another, and the most aggressive questioners could dominate an hour. Justice Clarence Thomas had for years almost never asked questions; at one point he went about a decade without asking any during oral argument, explaining that he thought the justices interrupted too much and that lawyers should be allowed to make their case.

The telephone format made the free-for-all impossible. Instead, the Chief Justice called on each justice in order of seniority, and each had a few minutes to question the lawyer. Under that system, Thomas, as the most senior associate justice, went first after the Chief Justice, and he asked questions in nearly every argument. Listeners who had rarely heard his voice in a live argument heard it regularly.

When the Court returned to the courtroom, it kept part of the new format. After the traditional open questioning, the justices now take turns, in order of seniority, asking any remaining questions. The change was small, but it is a reminder that the Court's practices are not handed down from the founding. They are choices, and the justices revisit them when they see a reason to.

That is the strongest practical reason to expect that video could come eventually. The question has never been whether the Court is capable of changing. It is whether the justices believe the change is worth it, and public interest is one of the things that shapes that belief.

What you can do

The Court decides how open its courtroom is, but the public can make the question harder to ignore.

1. Listen to an argument. The Court streams live audio of its arguments on argument days. Hearing one from start to finish is the best way to form your own view on whether video would help or hurt. Our court watch page lists this term's opinions with the Court's summaries, plus the emergency docket, so you can follow cases from argument to decision.
2. Ask your senators. Use the representatives lookup to find your senators' phone numbers and latest votes, and ask whether they support cameras at the Court. Bipartisan sponsors have existed for years.
3. Follow the reporting. The media and democracy topic page and the courts topic page collect current coverage of transparency and ethics at the Court.
4. Support court transparency work. The organizations directory lists civil rights, legal aid and voting groups in every state, many of which push for open courts and public records at the state level, where cameras are already common.

The voices came first, during an emergency nobody wanted. The pictures can come by choice.