When Justice Antonin Scalia and Justice Stephen Breyer sat across from one another debating constitutional meaning, they weren't just disagreeing about outcomes—they operated from fundamentally different premises about what the Constitution is. Scalia saw a fixed text frozen at ratification; Breyer viewed a living framework designed to grow. These competing visions determine whether your smartphone can be searched without a warrant, whether campaign finance laws stand or fall, and how federal power expands or contracts.

The Constitution's brevity—roughly 7,600 words including amendments—creates interpretive gaps that judges must fill. Article I grants Congress power to regulate "commerce among the several states," but does that include wheat a farmer grows for his own consumption? The Fourth Amendment protects against "unreasonable searches," but does thermal imaging of a home count as a search? The Eighth Amendment bans "cruel and unusual punishment," but does that encompass execution methods unknown in 1791?

Every Supreme Court term revolves around these questions. The framework justices choose—originalism, living constitutionalism, textualism, or hybrid approaches—dictates which evidence they consider, which arguments they credit, and ultimately which party wins.

What Constitutional Interpretation Actually Means in Practice

Constitutional interpretation is the process judges use to determine what the Constitution's text requires, permits, or forbids in specific cases. Unlike statutory interpretation, where Congress can amend a law if courts misread legislative intent, constitutional rulings carry permanence. Only another Supreme Court decision or a constitutional amendment (requiring two-thirds of Congress and three-fourths of states) can reverse them.

The stakes justify the philosophical intensity. When the Court ruled in Brown v. Board of Education (1954) that school segregation violated equal protection, it didn't cite new constitutional text—the Fourteenth Amendment hadn't changed since 1868. The justices applied constitutional analysis approaches that considered the amendment's purpose and contemporary understandings of equality, rejecting the "separate but equal" doctrine that earlier courts had accepted.

Judicial interpretation methods directly affect citizens who never read a Supreme Court opinion. The Court's Fourth Amendment rulings determine whether police can access your cell phone location data. Its Commerce Clause decisions decide if federal environmental regulations apply to isolated wetlands on your property. First Amendment interpretations govern whether states can compel website owners to host speech they oppose.

Consider District of Columbia v. Heller (2008), where the Court split 5-4 on whether the Second Amendment protects an individual right to own firearms unconnected to militia service. The majority and dissent both claimed fidelity to the Constitution's meaning—they simply used different interpretive tools to uncover it. Justice Scalia's majority opinion examined founding-era dictionaries, state constitutional provisions, and 18th-century grammar to establish original public meaning. Justice Stevens's dissent emphasized the amendment's prefatory clause about militias and the historical context of standing armies. Same text, opposite conclusions, determined by interpretive theory.

Courts face these choices constantly because constitutional language operates at high levels of abstraction. The document doesn't mention abortion, the internet, or administrative agencies, yet judges must apply it to all three. The interpretive method they select determines whether they look backward to 1787, reason from structural principles, or adapt constitutional values to present circumstances.

Originalism: Interpreting the Constitution Through the Founders' Eyes

Originalism explained starts from a simple premise: the Constitution's meaning was fixed when ratified and remains unchanged until formally amended. Originalists argue that judges who update constitutional meaning based on contemporary values aren't interpreting law—they're making it, a power the Constitution reserves to elected representatives.

This theory gained prominence in the 1970s and 1980s as a conservative response to Warren Court decisions that critics saw as judicial activism. Yet originalism itself encompasses competing schools of thought about whose understanding matters and when.

Original Intent vs. Original Public Meaning

Early originalists focused on original intent—what did the Framers who drafted the Constitution intend? This approach examines James Madison's notes from the Constitutional Convention, Federalist Papers arguments, and private correspondence among delegates. If we can determine that the Framers intended the Commerce Clause to reach only cross-border trade, modern courts should apply that limitation.

Original intent faces practical problems. The Constitutional Convention occurred in secret, leaving incomplete records. Different Framers held different views—Madison and Hamilton disagreed about fundamental questions of federal power. Whose intent controls? The drafters? The ratifiers in state conventions? The broader public that elected ratifying delegates?

These difficulties pushed most originalists toward original public meaning—how would a reasonable, informed person at ratification have understood the Constitution's text? This approach treats the Constitution like a contract: parties are bound by the objective meaning of words they signed, not their private hopes or fears.

Originalism looks backward to fix meaning.

Justice Scalia championed this version of originalism. In District of Columbia v. Heller, he marshaled evidence about how ordinary Americans in 1791 understood "keep and bear arms." He cited contemporary state constitutional provisions, founding-era legal commentaries, and early American legal cases—not to show what Madison secretly intended, but to establish the public meaning of the Second Amendment's words when ratified.

Original public meaning originalism has its own challenges. Historical evidence often points in multiple directions. Founding-era Americans disagreed about constitutional meaning just as we do—that's why they fought over the Alien and Sedition Acts, the national bank, and federal road-building in the early Republic. Determining a single "public meaning" from contested historical sources requires judgment calls that critics say smuggle judicial discretion back in.

Leading Originalist Justices and Landmark Cases

Justice Clarence Thomas practices perhaps the most rigorous originalism on the current Court. In McDonald v. City of Chicago (2010), he refused to join the majority's Fourteenth Amendment analysis because he found it historically inaccurate. Instead, he wrote separately to argue that the Privileges or Immunities Clause—largely dormant since the Slaughter-House Cases (1873)—should be revived based on original understanding. Thomas was willing to overturn 140 years of precedent to restore what he saw as the amendment's original meaning.

Justice Amy Coney Barrett, Neil Gorsuch, and Brett Kavanaugh all identify as originalists, though they apply the method differently. Gorsuch's textualist approach in statutory cases carries over to constitutional interpretation—he focuses intensely on linguistic meaning and grammatical structure. Kavanaugh shows more willingness to incorporate precedent and tradition alongside originalist analysis.

History becomes the test, not just context.

New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen (2022) illustrates modern originalism in action. The Court held that New York's concealed-carry licensing scheme violated the Second Amendment. Justice Thomas's majority opinion established a test requiring government to show that gun regulations are "consistent with the Nation's historical tradition of firearm regulation." This approach makes founding-era and 19th-century historical practices dispositive—if similar regulations didn't exist then, they're constitutionally suspect now.

Critics argue this creates a "dead hand" problem: Why should 18th-century understandings govern 21st-century problems? Founding-era Americans couldn't conceive of AR-15s, the internet, or administrative agencies. Originalists respond that the amendment process exists precisely to update the Constitution when original meanings no longer serve us—but until amended, judges must apply the law we have, not the law they wish we had.

Living Constitution Theory: Adapting Founding Principles to Modern America

Living constitution theory holds that constitutional meaning evolves as society changes. Proponents argue the Framers drafted the Constitution in broad terms precisely so it could adapt to unforeseen circumstances. They point to phrases like "due process," "equal protection," and "unreasonable searches"—open-ended language that invites application of constitutional principles to new contexts.

Justice Breyer articulated this view in Active Liberty, arguing that judges should interpret the Constitution to promote democratic participation and individual liberty in contemporary society. The question isn't what "cruel and unusual punishment" meant in 1791, but what those principles require in 2024 given our current understanding of human dignity and penology.

Living constitutionalists don't claim judges can simply impose their policy preferences. Instead, they argue constitutional interpretation should consider multiple sources: text, structure, historical practice, precedent, national consensus, and practical consequences. When these sources point in different directions, judges must reason about which interpretation best serves constitutional values in present circumstances.

Obergefell v. Hodges (2015), which recognized a constitutional right to same-sex marriage, exemplifies living constitutionalism. Justice Kennedy's majority opinion didn't claim the Fourteenth Amendment's ratifiers in 1868 intended to protect same-sex marriage. Instead, Kennedy reasoned that the amendment's guarantees of liberty and equal protection, properly understood, encompass marriage equality. The Constitution's principles remain constant, but their application evolves as society's understanding of liberty and equality deepens.

The Fourth Amendment protects "persons, houses, papers, and effects" against unreasonable searches. Does that cover your email stored on Google's servers? Your cell phone location data held by your wireless carrier? Thermal imaging that reveals heat patterns in your home?

Originalists and living constitutionalists both must address these questions—the Constitution doesn't mention any of these technologies. But their methods differ. An originalist asks: What founding-era practice most closely analogizes to this modern technology? In Kyllo v. United States (2001), Justice Scalia (writing for the majority) reasoned that thermal imaging of a home resembled a general search of the home's interior, which the Fourth Amendment clearly prohibited.

Living constitutionalists might ask instead: What does "reasonable expectation of privacy" mean in an age of digital surveillance? In Carpenter v. United States (2018), Chief Justice Roberts (not typically a living constitutionalist) held that accessing cell phone location records constitutes a search requiring a warrant. His opinion emphasized that digital technology creates comprehensive records of our movements that founding-era surveillance could never match. The Fourth Amendment's principles must adapt to protect privacy in this new context.

The First Amendment presents similar challenges. Does "freedom of speech" protect computer code? Social media posts? Algorithmic curation? Living constitutionalists argue we should ask whether restricting these things threatens the values that underlie free speech—democratic deliberation, individual autonomy, checking government power—rather than whether the Framers would have considered them "speech."

Critics' Main Arguments Against Evolving Interpretation

Originalists level several charges against living constitutionalism. First, it's undemocratic: unelected judges with life tenure can override democratic choices by "updating" constitutional meaning to match their values. If society wants the Constitution to protect same-sex marriage or prohibit capital punishment, it should amend the Constitution through the democratic process Article V prescribes.

Second, living constitutionalism provides no meaningful constraint on judicial discretion. If judges can evolve constitutional meaning based on "contemporary values," what stops them from simply imposing their policy preferences? Originalism at least requires judges to ground decisions in historical evidence external to their own views.

Third, the approach creates instability. If constitutional meaning changes with the times, citizens and lawmakers can't rely on settled understandings. A right recognized today might vanish tomorrow if social consensus shifts. Originalism promises that constitutional meaning remains constant even as society changes—providing the stability a legal system requires.

Living constitutionalists respond that originalism's historical certainty is illusory—originalist judges disagree about historical meaning as much as living constitutionalists disagree about evolving values. They argue the real choice isn't between constraint and discretion, but between different forms of reasoning that constrain judicial judgment. And they contend that some evolution is inevitable: even originalists must translate founding-era principles into modern contexts, which requires judgment about which principles matter and how they apply.

Textualism and Other Major Interpretation Methods

While originalism and living constitutionalism dominate popular discussion, judges employ several other judicial interpretation methods that cut across this divide.

Textualism: When the Words Themselves Matter Most

Textualism meaning law starts with a simple commitment: interpret legal texts based on what their words meant to ordinary speakers when enacted. Textualists focus on dictionary definitions, grammatical structure, and linguistic context—not legislative history, perceived purposes, or practical consequences.

Justice Gorsuch exemplifies textual analysis. In Bostock v. Clayton County (2020), he held that Title VII's prohibition on sex discrimination covers sexual orientation and gender identity discrimination. His reasoning was purely textual: if an employer fires a male employee for being attracted to men, but wouldn't fire a female employee for the same attraction, the employer has discriminated "because of sex." The statute's text compels this result even if the 1964 Congress that passed Title VII didn't anticipate it.

Textualism overlaps with originalism—both emphasize objective textual meaning over subjective intent—but they're distinct. Originalism is primarily a constitutional theory about how to interpret an enduring fundamental law. Textualism applies to all legal texts: statutes, regulations, contracts. An originalist might consider founding-era practices and constitutional structure; a pure textualist sticks to linguistic meaning.

In constitutional cases, textualists examine how words and phrases were used in founding-era legal documents, dictionaries, and ordinary speech. When the Constitution grants Congress power to "regulate Commerce," a textualist asks what "regulate" and "commerce" meant in 1787. This often produces originalist results, but the analytical focus remains textual meaning rather than broader historical understanding.

Structuralism and Precedent-Based Approaches

Structuralism reasons from the Constitution's overall architecture rather than parsing individual clauses. Structuralists ask: What does the Constitution's separation of powers, federalist design, or system of checks and balances imply about this question?

Justice Kennedy often employed structural reasoning. In Printz v. United States (1997), the Court struck down federal requirements that state law enforcement officers conduct background checks for handgun purchases. The majority opinion reasoned that the Constitution's federal structure—preserving state sovereignty within a national system—forbids Congress from commandeering state executive officials. No single constitutional provision explicitly states this, but the overall structure implies it.

Precedent-based interpretation (sometimes called "common law constitutionalism") treats constitutional law as an evolving body of judicial decisions that build incrementally on prior cases. Rather than returning to original meaning or first principles, judges reason by analogy from established precedents.

This approach dominates many areas of constitutional law. Fourth Amendment search-and-seizure doctrine consists of dozens of Supreme Court decisions creating tests and exceptions: the automobile exception, the plain view doctrine, exigent circumstances, Terry stops. These doctrines aren't directly stated in the Fourth Amendment's text, but they've been developed through precedent to make the amendment's general command workable in specific contexts.

Purposivism asks what purpose or goal the constitutional provision serves, then interprets it to advance that purpose. A purposivist interpreting the First Amendment might ask: What values does free speech protect? Democratic self-governance? Individual autonomy? Checking government abuse? The answer shapes how the amendment applies to specific cases.

Critics say purposivism allows judges to select among multiple plausible purposes and elevate their preferred purpose to control interpretation. Supporters respond that some attention to purpose is inevitable—we can't apply text intelligently without understanding what problem it addresses.

Interpretation Theory

Core Principle

Key Question Asked

Famous Proponents

Typical Application Example

Originalism

Constitutional meaning fixed at ratification

What did this text mean to the ratifying public?

Justices Scalia, Thomas, Gorsuch

Heller (2008): Second Amendment protects individual gun ownership based on 1791 understanding

Living Constitution

Constitutional principles evolve with society

How do constitutional values apply to current circumstances?

Justices Brennan, Breyer, Sotomayor

Obergefell (2015): Equal protection requires recognition of same-sex marriage

Textualism

Words' ordinary meaning controls

What do these words mean according to standard linguistic usage?

Justice Gorsuch

Bostock (2020): "Sex" discrimination includes sexual orientation based on textual logic

Purposivism

Interpret to advance provision's purpose

What problem was this provision designed to solve?

Justice Kagan

Commerce Clause: Should be read to enable national economic regulation

Structuralism

Reason from constitutional architecture

What does the Constitution's overall design imply?

Justice Kennedy

Printz (1997): Federal structure forbids commandeering state officials

How Different Theories Shape Supreme Court Rulings

Abstract methodological debates become concrete when judges apply competing theories to decide cases. Three recent examples show how interpretive choices determine outcomes.

Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization (2022) overruled Roe v. Wade, holding that the Constitution doesn't protect abortion rights. Justice Alito's majority opinion employed originalist analysis: the Fourteenth Amendment's Due Process Clause protects "liberty," but only liberties "deeply rooted in this Nation's history and tradition." Since abortion was widely criminalized when the Fourteenth Amendment was ratified in 1868 (and when the Due Process Clause was originally adopted in 1791), it doesn't qualify.

Justice Breyer's dissent took a living constitutionalist approach: the Constitution protects a zone of personal autonomy that includes decisions about pregnancy. The dissent emphasized stare decisis (respecting precedent), reliance interests (people have organized their lives around Roe for 50 years), and the practical consequences of overruling it. The interpretive divide wasn't about what the Constitution's text says—both sides read the same words—but about what evidence counts when determining constitutional meaning.

West Virginia v. EPA (2022) limited the Environmental Protection Agency's authority to regulate carbon emissions from power plants. The majority opinion, written by Chief Justice Roberts, invoked the "major questions doctrine"—when agencies claim authority to decide issues of vast economic and political significance, courts require clear congressional authorization. This doctrine isn't stated in the Constitution's text, but the Court reasoned that it follows from structural principles about separation of powers: Congress, not agencies, makes major policy decisions.

Justice Kagan's dissent accused the majority of inventing a doctrine to reach a preferred policy outcome. She argued the Clean Air Act's text authorized EPA's regulation and that courts should defer to agency expertise. The case pitted structuralism (majority) against textualism and purposivism (dissent)—with very different results for climate policy.

303 Creative LLC v. Elenis (2023) held that Colorado couldn't compel a web designer to create sites for same-sex weddings when doing so violated her religious beliefs. Justice Gorsuch's majority opinion applied First Amendment text and precedent: compelled speech violates free expression regardless of the government's anti-discrimination interest.

Justice Sotomayor's dissent emphasized equal protection values and the harm of allowing businesses to refuse service based on sexual orientation. She invoked Brown v. Board of Education and the civil rights movement's fight against "We Reserve the Right to Refuse Service" signs. The competing opinions reflected different hierarchies of constitutional values—free speech versus equal dignity—with interpretive method determining which value prevailed.

These cases show that constitutional interpretation theories aren't academic abstractions. They determine whether abortion is legal, how aggressively the government can combat climate change, and whether businesses can refuse service to same-sex couples. The theory a judge adopts often predicts the outcome.

The genius of the Constitution rests not in any static meaning, but in its adaptabilit
— William J. Brennan, Jr.

Which Constitutional Analysis Approach Do Most Judges Actually Use?

The honest answer: most judges are methodological pluralists who draw on multiple interpretive tools depending on the case. Even self-identified originalists like Justice Kavanaugh cite precedent, practical consequences, and traditional practices alongside historical evidence. Even living constitutionalists like Justice Sotomayor begin with text and consider original meaning.

Empirical studies reveal patterns. A 2020 analysis found that conservative justices cite originalist sources (founding-era dictionaries, Federalist Papers, ratification debates) more frequently than liberal justices, but both groups cite them selectively—usually when originalist evidence supports their preferred outcome. Liberal justices cite precedent and practical consequences more often, but conservatives cite these sources too when convenient.

The Supreme Court's composition affects which constitutional analysis approaches dominate. The Warren Court (1953-1969) embraced living constitutionalism, expansively reading the Fourteenth Amendment to incorporate most of the Bill of Rights against states and recognizing new rights like privacy. The Rehnquist Court (1986-2005) began moving toward originalism and textualism but proceeded cautiously, respecting many Warren Court precedents. The current Roberts Court, with six conservative justices (most identifying as originalists), has accelerated the originalist turn—overruling Roe, expanding gun rights, and constraining federal agency power.

Yet even the current Court doesn't apply pure originalism. In United States v. Rahimi (2024), the Court upheld a federal law prohibiting domestic abusers from possessing firearms. Chief Justice Roberts's opinion acknowledged that no founding-era law exactly matched this prohibition, but reasoned that historical tradition supported disarming dangerous persons. This "tradition-and-analogy" approach gives judges considerable discretion—how similar must historical laws be to count as analogous?

Lower federal judges show even more variation. Some district and circuit judges explicitly identify with particular methodologies, but many apply whatever approach seems most persuasive in context. Judges appointed by Republican presidents tend toward originalism and textualism; Democratic appointees lean toward purposivism and living constitutionalism. But these are tendencies, not absolutes.

Practicing lawyers must account for this plurality. When arguing before an originalist judge, brief writers emphasize founding-era evidence, historical practices, and textual analysis. Before a living constitutionalist, they stress precedent, practical consequences, and constitutional values. Most effective advocates present multiple interpretive arguments, knowing judges often blend methods.

The methodological divide also tracks age and judicial cohort. Judges appointed before 1980 rarely identify as originalists—the term barely existed then. Judges appointed after 2000, especially conservatives, overwhelmingly embrace originalism or textualism. This generational shift means originalism's influence will likely grow as older judges retire.

But methodological commitments aren't absolute. Justice Scalia, the most prominent originalist, joined the majority in Employment Division v. Smith (1990), which held that neutral laws of general applicability don't violate free exercise of religion even if they burden religious practice. Many originalists now view Smith as wrongly decided based on founding-era free exercise protections. Scalia's vote may have reflected his concern about judicial manageability—originalist evidence pointed one way, but applying it would require courts to grant religious exemptions from countless laws.

This highlights a reality often obscured in methodological debates: judges care about getting the right answer, not just following the right method. When method and intuition about justice diverge, judges face hard choices. Some stick with method even when results seem harsh. Others fudge the analysis to reach desired outcomes. Most fall somewhere between—using method as a guide and constraint, but not an absolute rule.

Frequently Asked Questions About Constitutional Interpretation

Is originalism the same as strict constructionism?

No, though people often confuse them. Strict constructionism suggests judges should narrowly interpret constitutional text, giving government limited powers and individuals broad rights. Originalism asks what the text meant when ratified—which sometimes produces broad readings. In Heller, Justice Scalia's originalist analysis found an individual right to own guns, a broader reading than the militia-focused interpretation. Originalists don't necessarily read text strictly; they read it according to original public meaning, which might be broad or narrow depending on historical evidence.

Can judges combine different interpretation theories in one case?

Absolutely, and they often do. Justice Kavanaugh's opinions typically begin with text, consider original meaning, examine historical tradition, review precedent, and discuss practical consequences. He might give different sources different weight, but he cites them all. Even Justice Thomas, the most methodologically consistent originalist, occasionally invokes precedent or structure when originalist evidence is unclear. Pure methodological consistency is rare—most judges are pragmatic pluralists who use whatever tools seem most persuasive.

Does the living constitution theory ignore the Founders' intent completely?

Not exactly. Living constitutionalists start with constitutional text and often consider founding-era understandings as one relevant source among many. But they don't treat original meaning as dispositive. Justice Breyer's approach considers text, history, structure, precedent, and consequences—with no single source automatically controlling. The difference is that originalists treat founding-era meaning as the primary constraint on interpretation, while living constitutionalists view it as one input into a broader analysis. Both sides claim fidelity to the Constitution; they disagree about what fidelity requires.

Why do textualists focus only on statutory language?

Textualists argue that in a democracy, the law is what the legislature enacted—the statutory text—not what legislators hoped to achieve or what committee reports say. Consulting legislative history (committee reports, floor debates, sponsor statements) allows judges to cherry-pick statements supporting their preferred outcome. Worse, it lets legislative staff who draft committee reports effectively make law by inserting explanations that Congress never voted on. Textualism constrains judicial discretion by limiting judges to publicly enacted text that went through the constitutional lawmaking process. Critics respond that ignoring purpose and context produces absurd results that no reasonable legislator intended.

Which interpretation method does the current Supreme Court favor?

The current Court leans originalist, particularly on constitutional questions. The six conservative justices (Roberts, Thomas, Alito, Gorsuch, Kavanaugh, Barrett) all embrace originalism to varying degrees, though Roberts and Kavanaugh show more willingness to consider precedent and practical consequences than Thomas or Gorsuch. The three liberal justices (Sotomayor, Kagan, Jackson) tend toward living constitutionalism and purposivism, though they also make textual and historical arguments when helpful. In statutory cases, textualism dominates across the ideological spectrum—even liberal justices now focus primarily on statutory text rather than legislative history, reflecting textualism's influence.

How do constitutional interpretation debates affect everyday Americans?

These debates determine the scope of your constitutional rights and government powers. Originalist interpretation led to Heller (gun rights) and Dobbs (overturning Roe). Living constitutionalist reasoning produced Obergefell (same-sex marriage) and Griswold (contraception rights). Textualist analysis decided Bostock (LGBTQ employment protection). Interpretive choices affect whether police can search your phone, whether federal agencies can regulate pollution, whether states can restrict speech on social media platforms, and whether religious objectors can refuse to follow anti-discrimination laws. Every major constitutional controversy—guns, abortion, speech, religion, federalism—turns partly on which interpretive method judges apply.

The Constitution's enduring power stems partly from its interpretive flexibility. The same document has governed an agricultural republic of four million and a technological superpower of 330 million. That adaptability requires interpretation, and interpretation requires choice—about which sources of meaning matter, which principles control, and how founding-era text applies to modern problems.

Judges who claim they're merely "calling balls and strikes" obscure these choices. Constitutional interpretation requires judgment: weighing competing historical evidence, reasoning by analogy from precedent, balancing constitutional values, and predicting practical consequences. No mechanical formula eliminates discretion.

Understanding competing theories helps citizens evaluate judicial decisions critically. When the Supreme Court issues a controversial ruling, ask: What interpretive method did the majority use? Did it stick consistently to that method, or selectively cite sources supporting a preferred outcome? Would a different method reach a different result? These questions reveal whether judges are reasoning from principle or working backward from desired conclusions.

The debate between originalism and living constitutionalism will continue because it reflects a deeper tension in constitutional democracy: Should an 18th-century document bind us to founding-era understandings, or should its principles evolve as society changes? Neither answer is obviously correct, and both create risks—the dead hand of the past versus judicial imposition of contemporary values.

What matters most isn't which theory you prefer, but that you recognize the choice exists. Constitutional meaning isn't self-evident. It emerges from interpretive frameworks that judges adopt, often influenced by judicial philosophy, political commitments, and practical consequences. Understanding these frameworks empowers you to engage constitutional debates as an informed citizen rather than a passive spectator.

The Constitution's meaning ultimately depends on who interprets it, using which methods, in which contexts. That's not a bug—it's a feature of a written constitution designed to endure across centuries. The Framers gave us the text; each generation must determine what it means.