In a move that’s already stirring heated debate across the legal and political landscape, the Supreme Court on August 21, 2025, handed down a sharply divided ruling that allows the Trump administration to cancel nearly $800 million in research grants from the National Institutes of Health (NIH)—funds that many say are vital for work on diversity, equity, inclusion, COVID-19, and gender identity. The decision, delivered through the Court’s controversial shadow docket, has drawn fierce criticism, most notably from Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, whose dissent is making headlines for both its substance and style.
In a 5-4 ruling, the justices overturned a lower court decision that had restored funding to 1,700 grants, giving the Trump administration the green light, at least for now, to pull the plug on projects it claims are tied to diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. The order was brief and unsigned, a hallmark of the shadow docket process that has been increasingly used by the nation’s highest court—and just as frequently criticized for its lack of transparency.
Justice Jackson, a Biden appointee and the Court’s most junior member, didn’t mince words in her dissent. She accused the majority of engaging in what she called “Calvinball jurisprudence with a twist,” referencing the imaginary game from Bill Watterson’s beloved Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. For those unfamiliar, Calvinball is a game where, as Jackson put it, “there are no fixed rules.” She elaborated, “We seem to have two: that one, and this Administration always wins.” Her dissent, which cited the Oxford English Dictionary definition of Calvinball as “activity reminiscent of the imaginary game of Calvinball, in not following any discernible rules, or in which individuals act in a self-servingly inconsistent manner,” argued that the Court’s approach lacks consistency and fairness, especially when it comes to emergency rulings that often seem to favor the Trump administration.
According to reporting from SAN and other outlets, the majority’s decision means that, at least while litigation continues, the Trump administration can halt funding for a broad swath of research. The grants in question, totaling about $783 million, cover not just diversity and equity projects, but also research on COVID-19 and gender identity. Justice Jackson stressed that the impact goes far beyond politics, warning that “life-saving biomedical research” is at stake. She wrote, “So, unfortunately, this newest entry in the Court’s quest to make way for the Executive Branch has real consequences, for the law and for the public.”
The Supreme Court’s decision was anything but straightforward. The fractured ruling saw Chief Justice John Roberts siding with the liberal justices in part, while Justice Amy Coney Barrett, herself a Trump appointee, joined Roberts and the liberals in a separate 5-4 decision. That second decision keeps a lower court’s block on the NIH’s directives about the grants intact, which could complicate the administration’s efforts to cancel future grants. In total, the justices produced 36 pages of opinions—a hefty amount for an emergency ruling—with Jackson’s dissent making up more than half of that.
Justice Barrett, who authored a portion of the split decision, argued that challenges to the NIH grant cancellations should be brought by grant recipients in the Court of Federal Claims. However, she also acknowledged that “both law and logic” support the authority of the federal court in Massachusetts to review challenges to the NIH’s guidance about grant money. Barrett joined Jackson and the other liberals in denying part of the Trump administration’s request, emphasizing that she would not weigh in at this early stage on the merits of the case as it proceeds through the lower courts.
Jackson, for her part, was unsatisfied with what she saw as a half-measure. She accused the Court of preserving the “mirage of judicial review while eliminating its purpose: to remedy harms.” In her view, the ruling does little to protect the rights of those affected by the administration’s actions, and instead serves to reinforce the executive branch’s power at the expense of meaningful oversight.
The shadow docket—essentially a fast-track process for emergency decisions—has become a lightning rod for criticism in recent years. According to BBC and other outlets, critics argue that the process allows the Court to issue major rulings with little explanation or transparency, often with significant consequences for public policy. The fact that the Court’s majority opinion in this case was unsigned and delivered with minimal reasoning only adds fuel to the fire.
Legal scholars have been quick to weigh in on the implications of the decision and Jackson’s dissent. George Washington University law professor Jonathan Turley noted in a recent op-ed that Jackson’s opinions have become increasingly pointed, sometimes portraying her colleagues as “abandoning not just the Constitution but democracy itself.” Turley observed a rise in what he called “histrionic and hyperbolic rhetoric” from Jackson, who has developed a reputation as the most vocal justice during oral arguments since joining the high court.
Meanwhile, tensions between the justices have spilled into public view. Justice Barrett recently took a swipe at Jackson in another high-profile case, accusing her of subscribing to an “imperial judiciary” and advising observers not to “dwell” on her colleague’s dissent. The sparring reflects deeper divisions within the Court, particularly over the use of the shadow docket and the boundaries of judicial review.
For many observers, the case is emblematic of broader battles over the future of federal research funding, the role of the judiciary, and the balance of power between the executive and the courts. Advocates for diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives warn that the decision could have a chilling effect on research in these areas, especially as the Trump administration signals its intent to reshape federal priorities.
At the same time, defenders of the ruling argue that the executive branch has broad authority to set priorities for federal funding, and that the courts should not interfere absent clear violations of law. They contend that emergency decisions are sometimes necessary to prevent irreparable harm or to maintain the status quo while cases work their way through the system.
As the litigation proceeds, the fate of nearly $800 million in NIH grants hangs in the balance, along with the future direction of research on some of the most pressing issues facing the country. For now, Justice Jackson’s “Calvinball” analogy has found its way into Supreme Court lore, capturing both the frustration and the uncertainty that many feel about the current state of American jurisprudence.
In a Court increasingly defined by sharp ideological divides and fast-moving emergency rulings, the stakes for law, policy, and the public have rarely felt higher.
