Mary Wollstonecraft (1759–1797) was the author of acclaimed works about subjects including the education of children, political philosophy, and human liberty. She is perhaps best remembered for her great pioneering book, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), a key text in the rise and development of both feminism and liberal theory.

What is perhaps less remembered today is the fact that her landmark case for women's rights owed an important intellectual debt to the work of the political philosopher John Locke (1632–1704), who argued that the proper role of government was to protect humanity's preexisting natural rights.

Locke is sometimes mislabeled as a conservative by certain modern academics and pundits. But his ideas were deemed to be quite radical in their own day. And for the teenaged Mary Wollstonecraft, that Lockean radicalism was as welcome as the first taste of food after a grueling starvation.

The year was 1775 and Wollstonecraft was 15 years old. She was a brilliant and independent-minded young woman, increasingly outraged by the vile behavior of her drunk, domineering father. He abused Wollstonecraft's mother and maintained a strict, sexist hierarchy at home, favoring her brother while she was made to suffer.

It was at this low point in her life when Wollstonecraft first read Locke. Certain passages from his greatest work, The Second Treatise of Government (1689), caught hold of her mind and never really let go. A properly constituted social order "gives the husband no more power over [his wife's] life than she has over his," Locke wrote. "The power of the husband being so far from that of an absolute monarch that the wife has, in many cases, a liberty to separate from him, where natural right or their contract allows it, whether that contract be made by themselves in the state of nature, or by the customs or laws of the country they live in."

In her superb book, Romantic Outlaws: The Extraordinary Lives of Mary Wollstonecraft and Her Daughter Mary Shelley (2015), the historian Charlotte Gordon memorably described the far-reaching effect that Locke's ideas had on the teenaged Wollstonecraft:

She had always felt that her father had no right to tyrannize her family and that the preferential treatment he and her mother bestowed on [brother] Ned was unjust. Now, after reading Locke, she had an ethical foundation for her feelings. Not only was it her right to shape her own future; it was everyone's right. In fact, Locke's social contract made protest seem the only rational response to injustice; it was humanity's obligation to overthrow tyranny.

One of the reasons why Locke is sometimes mislabeled as a conservative today is because of his writings in favor of property rights, an issue that we now associate with conservative and libertarian thinkers. But it is worth remembering that Locke's whole case for property rights began with the idea that "every man has a property in his own person. This nobody has any right to but himself."

Is it any wonder that Locke's radical case for self-ownership would appeal to a young woman like Wollstonecraft, who longed to break free from the sexist laws and cultural strictures that held her back? Nobody was going to convince her that she did not have a right to her own body.

We might say something similar about the great abolitionist Frederick Douglass (1818–1895), who also drank deep from the principles of Lockean liberalism. "You are a man and so am I," Douglass wrote in his famous open letter to his former enslaver. "In leaving you, I took nothing but what belonged to me, and in no way lessened your means for obtaining an honest living. Your faculties remained yours, and mine became useful to their rightful owner." That is about as clear and effective a restatement of Lockean self-ownership principles as you are going to find.

Locke's influence on the American Revolution, particularly on Thomas Jefferson and the Declaration of Independence, is well-known. That Locke also had a key influence on both the women's rights and abolitionist movements is perhaps worthy of further remark.

The post When Mary Wollstonecraft Read John Locke appeared first on Reason Magazine.

Assume the following: A person unlawfully entered the United States 20 years ago and has since started a business and raised U.S.-citizen children, has no criminal record, and has never been found to be dangerous. Should federal immigration law treat that person the same way it treats someone who was just apprehended at the border? Should the law treat that person as if Congress had specifically made them subject to mandatory detention for criminal or terrorism-related conduct?

Under the Trump administration, the answer is yes. President Donald Trump's current policy treats noncitizens who entered without lawful admission as subject to mandatory detention without bond throughout removal proceedings, even if they have lived in the United States for decades and have no criminal record⁠. The executive branch adopted that position in new Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) guidance issued in July 2025⁠, reversing its prior interpretation of the same detention law.

The U.S. Supreme Court will now decide whether Congress actually required the result Trump is seeking. On October 1, the justices agreed to hear the case of Rhoney v. Barbosa da Cunha⁠. Ricardo Aparecido Barbosa da Cunha, a Brazilian national, entered the United States without inspection around 2005. He later applied for asylum, received work authorization, and eventually bought a home. He operates a small construction business and lives with his wife and two U.S.-citizen children. He has no criminal record. But immigration officers still arrested him while he was driving to work in Massachusetts in September 2025.

After Cunha challenged his detention, a federal court ordered a bond hearing and an immigration judge found that he posed neither a danger nor a flight risk and therefore released him on bond while his case proceeded. The Trump administration then appealed to the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2nd Circuit and lost. Now the Supreme Court will have the final word⁠.

The Supreme Court is not deciding whether Cunha may ultimately remain in the country. Instead, it is deciding the narrower question of whether the Immigration and Nationality Act mandates detention pending removal proceedings for someone like Cunha who is present in the United States without having been lawfully admitted⁠.

The legal dispute turns on two phrases in one section of this federal immigration law. According to Section 1225, a noncitizen present in the United States who has not been legally admitted is considered an "applicant for admission." But when Congress imposed mandatory detention later in that same section, it used additional language, applying it to an applicant for admission who is "seeking admission."

That distinction may sound technical and trivial, but its consequences are enormous. If every statutory "applicant for admission" is automatically still "seeking admission," then the government can treat someone who crossed the border 20 years ago the same as someone arriving today and keep them in jail without the possibility of bond. If the two phrases mean two different things, however, then Cunha and others like him are generally eligible for a bond hearing under Section 1226, which permits both detention and release on bond or conditional parole⁠.

The Trump administration argues that if Congress has deemed someone an applicant for admission, that person must necessarily still be seeking the admission for which they are considered an applicant. But the administration's argument asks the Court to stretch federal law beyond its reasonable limits. Congress expressly deemed certain people "applicants for admission." It did not separately deem them to be "seeking admission."

This case, in short, is about textualism. And as the late Justice Antonin Scalia and his co-author Bryan Garner argue in their book, Reading Law: The Interpretation of Legal Texts, one of the key principles of textualism is that "a material variation in terms suggests a variation in meaning." When Congress uses different words in closely related provisions, in other words, courts should hesitate before assuming that the different words mean the exact same thing.

In ordinary English, it is certainly difficult to describe a man driving from home to work after living in the United States for over two decades as presently "seeking admission." He is not seeking to enter the U.S.; he already entered decades earlier. The 2nd Circuit's unanimous opinion—written by Judge Joseph Bianco, a Trump appointee—reached this conclusion, holding that "seeking admission" describes ongoing activity rather than merely a retained statutory status⁠.

Meanwhile, when the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit upheld the administration's position in a similar case, Judge Dana Douglas, an appointee of former President Joe Biden, invoked the same Scalia-Garner textualist principles in dissent. 

The legal dispute, therefore, does not follow neat partisan lines. Judges from different ideological backgrounds have both concluded that the administration's reading goes beyond the words that Congress wrote.

The broader statutory structure also supports that conclusion. Congress has long required mandatory detention in Section 1226 for specified criminal and terrorism-related grounds⁠. And the Laken Riley Act of 2025 expanded those mandatory-detention categories⁠. But if nearly everyone who ever illegally entered the country is already subject to mandatory detention, as the administration asserts, then all of those carefully drawn separate categories for mandatory detention suddenly become superfluous and pointless for noncitizens who illegally entered the country, an objection that Douglas raised in dissent⁠.

History also clarifies the point. For nearly 30 years, across five presidential administrations (including Trump's first), the government generally treated people like Cunha as potentially eligible for bond. Trump only reversed course in July 2025. The 2nd Circuit thus accurately described the earlier interpretation as a well-established executive branch practice⁠.

Of course, past executive practice cannot override clear statutory language. But if Congress really did mandate a sweeping detention regime in 1996⁠, it is striking that every presidential administration since then has operated under a totally different understanding⁠.

None of this gives Cunha lawful immigration status. Nor does it guarantee his release or prevent the government from deporting him. Rather, it allows an immigration judge to ask a basic question: Is keeping this particular person in jail actually necessary while his case proceeds?

The administration may believe mandatory detention makes immigration enforcement faster or more effective. And Congress is free to adopt that policy if it chooses to do so. But Congress does have to choose it first.

Protecting the constitutional separation of powers is one of textualism's most important functions. Textualism is often described as a conservative method of statutory interpretation. But its deeper value is constitutional. It forces both courts and presidents to follow the law Congress actually passed. Sometimes that produces harsher results. Sometimes it produces more humane ones. But either way, it restrains the executive and judicial branches from exceeding their proper spheres.

Whether mandatory detention would accelerate Trump's deportation program is a question of policy. Whether it is just is a question of ethics. Whether Congress authorized it is a question of law.

In Cunha, the best textualist reading is that Congress preserved the possibility of bond and left room for an immigration judge to determine whether detention is necessary. That textualism, liberty, and compassion point to the same result is not the reason to reach it. In this case, however, it is a welcome coincidence.

The post Trump's Mandatory Immigration Detention Policy Fails the Textualist Test appeared first on Reason Magazine.

Turkish authorities seized control of Halk TV, a popular pro-opposition television station based in Istanbul. Police raided its headquarters, stopped live broadcasts, and prevented staff from entering the building. A court appointed a government administrator to run the station and other companies linked to its owner, Cafer Mahiroğlu, who is being investigated for bribery, money laundering, and rigging public contracts. Mahiroğlu, who lives abroad, denied the accusations. After the takeover, the station stopped airing live news and instead broadcast music and documentaries, while authorities also ordered its social media accounts blocked in Turkey. The seizure came as Halk TV was covering corruption allegations involving figures linked to President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan's ruling party and the trial of imprisoned Istanbul Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu.

The post Brickbat: Turkish Banned appeared first on Reason Magazine.