
The GOP's big bill would bring changes to Medicaid for millions
WASHINGTON — Republican Sen. Josh Hawley has been clear about his red line as the Senate takes up the GOP's One Big Beautiful Bill Act: no Medicaid cuts.
But what, exactly, would be a cut?
Hawley and other Republicans acknowledge that the main cost-saving provision in the bill – new work requirements on able-bodied adults who receive health care through the Medicaid program — would cause millions of people to lose their coverage. All told, estimates are 10.9 million fewer people would have health coverage under the bill's proposed changes to Medicaid and the Affordable Care Act. That includes some 8 million fewer in the Medicaid program, including 5.2 million dropping off because of the new eligibility requirements.
'I know that will reduce the number of people on Medicaid,' Hawley told a small scrum of reporters in the hallways at the Capitol.
'But I'm for that because I want people who are able bodied but not working to work.'
Hawley and other Republicans are walking a politically fine line on how to reduce federal spending on Medicaid while also promising to protect a program that serves some 80 million Americans and is popular with the public.
As the party pushes ahead on President Donald Trump' s priority package, Republicans insist they are not cutting the vital safety net program but simply rooting out what they call waste, fraud and abuse. Whether that argument lands with voters could go a long way toward determining whether Trump's bill ultimately ends up boosting — or dragging down — Republicans as they campaign for reelection next year.
Republicans say that it's wrong to call the reductions in health care coverage 'cuts.' Instead, they've characterized the changes as rules that would purge people who are taking advantage of the system and protect it for the most vulnerable who need it most.
House Republicans wrote the bill with instructions to find $880 billion in cuts from programs under the purview of the Energy and Commerce Committee, which has a sprawling jurisdiction that includes Medicaid.
In the version of the bill that the House passed on a party-line vote last month, the overall cuts ended up exceeding that number. The Kaiser Family Foundation projects that the bill will result in a $793 billion reduction in spending on Medicaid.
Additionally, the House Ways & Means Committee, which handles federal tax policy, imposed a freeze on a health care provider tax that many states impose. Critics say the tax improperly boosts federal Medicaid payments to the states, but supporters like Hawley say it's important funding for rural hospitals.
'What we're doing here is an important and, frankly, heroic thing to preserve the program so that it doesn't become insolvent,' Speaker Mike Johnson said on NBC's 'Meet the Press.'
House Democratic leader Hakeem Jeffries, meanwhile, has denounced the bill as an 'assault on the healthcare of the American people' and warned years of progress in reducing the number of uninsured people is at risk.
The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office estimates that the GOP's proposed changes to federal health programs would result in 10.9 million fewer people having health care coverage.
Nearly 8 million fewer people would be enrolled in Medicaid by 2034 under the legislation, the CBO found, including 5.2 million people who would lose coverage due to the proposed work requirements. It said 1.4 million immigrants without legal status would lose coverage in state programs.
The new Medicaid requirements would apply to nondisabled adults under age 65 who are not caretakers or parents, with some exceptions. The bill passed by the U.S. House stipulates that those eligible would need to work, take classes, or record community service for 80 hours per month.
The Kaiser Family Foundation notes that more than 90% of people enrolled in Medicaid already meet those criteria.
The legislation also penalizes states that fund health insurance for immigrants who have not confirmed their immigration status, and the CBO expects that those states will stop funding Medicaid for those immigrants altogether.
Republicans have cited what they call the out-of-control spending in federal programs to explain their rationale for the changes proposed in the legislation.
'What we are trying to do in the One Big Beautiful Bill is ensuring that limited resources are protected for pregnant women, for children, for seniors, for individuals with disabilities,' said Rep. Erin Houchin, R-Ind., in a speech on the House floor.
Senate Majority Whip John Barrasso argued that Medicaid recipients who are not working spend their time watching television and playing video games rather than looking for employment.
Republicans also criticize the CBO itself, the congressional scorekeeper, questioning whether its projections are accurate.
The CBO score for decades has been providing non-partisan analysis of legislation and budgetary matters. Its staff is prohibited from making political contributions and is currently led by a former economic adviser for the George W. Bush administration.
While Republicans argue that their signature legislation delivers on Trump's 2024 campaign promises, health care isn't one of the president's strongest issues with Americans.
Most U.S. adults, 56%, disapproved of how Trump was handling health care policy in CNN polling from March. And according to AP VoteCast, about 6 in 10 voters in the November election said they wanted the government 'more involved' in ensuring that Americans have health care coverage. Only about 2 in 10 wanted the government less involved in this, and about 2 in 10 said its involvement was about right.
Half of American adults said they expected the Trump administration's policies to increase their family's health care costs, according to a May poll from KFF, and about 6 in 10 believed those policies would weaken Medicaid. If the federal government significantly reduced Medicaid spending, about 7 in 10 adults said they worried it would negatively impact nursing homes, hospitals, and other health care providers in their community.
For Hawley, the 'bottom lines' are omitting provisions that could cause rural hospitals to close and hardworking citizens to lose their benefits.
He and other Republicans are especially concerned about the freeze on the providers' tax in the House's legislation that they warn could hurt rural hospitals.
'Medicaid benefits for people who are working or who are otherwise qualified,' Hawley said. 'I do not want to see them cut.'
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8 minutes ago
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The GOP's big bill would bring changes to Medicaid for millions
WASHINGTON (AP) — Republican Sen. Josh Hawley has been clear about his red line as the Senate takes up the GOP's One Big Beautiful Bill Act: no Medicaid cuts. But what, exactly, would be a cut? Hawley and other Republicans acknowledge that the main cost-saving provision in the bill – new work requirements on able-bodied adults who receive health care through the Medicaid program -- would cause millions of people to lose their coverage. All told, estimates are 10.9 million fewer people would have health coverage under the bill's proposed changes to Medicaid and the Affordable Care Act. That includes some 8 million fewer in the Medicaid program, including 5.2 million dropping off because of the new eligibility requirements. 'I know that will reduce the number of people on Medicaid,' Hawley told a small scrum of reporters in the hallways at the Capitol. 'But I'm for that because I want people who are able bodied but not working to work.' Hawley and other Republicans are walking a politically fine line on how to reduce federal spending on Medicaid while also promising to protect a program that serves some 80 million Americans and is popular with the public. As the party pushes ahead on President Donald Trump' s priority package, Republicans insist they are not cutting the vital safety net program but simply rooting out what they call waste, fraud and abuse. Whether that argument lands with voters could go a long way toward determining whether Trump's bill ultimately ends up boosting — or dragging down — Republicans as they campaign for reelection next year. Republicans say that it's wrong to call the reductions in health care coverage 'cuts.' Instead, they've characterized the changes as rules that would purge people who are taking advantage of the system and protect it for the most vulnerable who need it most. What's in the bill House Republicans wrote the bill with instructions to find $880 billion in cuts from programs under the purview of the Energy and Commerce Committee, which has a sprawling jurisdiction that includes Medicaid. In the version of the bill that the House passed on a party-line vote last month, the overall cuts ended up exceeding that number. The Kaiser Family Foundation projects that the bill will result in a $793 billion reduction in spending on Medicaid. Additionally, the House Ways & Means Committee, which handles federal tax policy, imposed a freeze on a health care provider tax that many states impose. Critics say the tax improperly boosts federal Medicaid payments to the states, but supporters like Hawley say it's important funding for rural hospitals. 'What we're doing here is an important and, frankly, heroic thing to preserve the program so that it doesn't become insolvent,' Speaker Mike Johnson said on NBC's 'Meet the Press.' House Democratic leader Hakeem Jeffries, meanwhile, has denounced the bill as an 'assault on the healthcare of the American people' and warned years of progress in reducing the number of uninsured people is at risk. Who would lose health coverage The nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office estimates that the GOP's proposed changes to federal health programs would result in 10.9 million fewer people having health care coverage. Nearly 8 million fewer people would be enrolled in Medicaid by 2034 under the legislation, the CBO found, including 5.2 million people who would lose coverage due to the proposed work requirements. It said 1.4 million immigrants without legal status would lose coverage in state programs. The new Medicaid requirements would apply to nondisabled adults under age 65 who are not caretakers or parents, with some exceptions. The bill passed by the U.S. House stipulates that those eligible would need to work, take classes, or record community service for 80 hours per month. The Kaiser Family Foundation notes that more than 90% of people enrolled in Medicaid already meet those criteria. The legislation also penalizes states that fund health insurance for immigrants who have not confirmed their immigration status, and the CBO expects that those states will stop funding Medicaid for those immigrants altogether. Why Republicans want Medicaid changes Republicans have cited what they call the out-of-control spending in federal programs to explain their rationale for the changes proposed in the legislation. 'What we are trying to do in the One Big Beautiful Bill is ensuring that limited resources are protected for pregnant women, for children, for seniors, for individuals with disabilities,' said Rep. Erin Houchin, R-Ind., in a speech on the House floor. Senate Majority Whip John Barrasso argued that Medicaid recipients who are not working spend their time watching television and playing video games rather than looking for employment. Republicans also criticize the CBO itself, the congressional scorekeeper, questioning whether its projections are accurate. The CBO score for decades has been providing non-partisan analysis of legislation and budgetary matters. Its staff is prohibited from making political contributions and is currently led by a former economic adviser for the George W. Bush administration. What polling shows While Republicans argue that their signature legislation delivers on Trump's 2024 campaign promises, health care isn't one of the president's strongest issues with Americans. Most U.S. adults, 56%, disapproved of how Trump was handling health care policy in CNN polling from March. And according to AP VoteCast, about 6 in 10 voters in the November election said they wanted the government 'more involved' in ensuring that Americans have health care coverage. Only about 2 in 10 wanted the government less involved in this, and about 2 in 10 said its involvement was about right. Half of American adults said they expected the Trump administration's policies to increase their family's health care costs, according to a May poll from KFF, and about 6 in 10 believed those policies would weaken Medicaid. If the federal government significantly reduced Medicaid spending, about 7 in 10 adults said they worried it would negatively impact nursing homes, hospitals, and other health care providers in their community. For Hawley, the 'bottom lines' are omitting provisions that could cause rural hospitals to close and hardworking citizens to lose their benefits. He and other Republicans are especially concerned about the freeze on the providers' tax in the House's legislation that they warn could hurt rural hospitals. 'Medicaid benefits for people who are working or who are otherwise qualified,' Hawley said. 'I do not want to see them cut.'


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How Amy Coney Barrett is confounding the right and the left
Get Starting Point A guide through the most important stories of the morning, delivered Monday through Friday. Enter Email Sign Up Now Trump is attacking the judiciary and testing the Constitution, and Barrett, appointed to clinch a 50-year conservative legal revolution, is showing signs of leftward drift. Advertisement She has become the Republican-appointed justice most likely to be in the majority in decisions that reach a liberal outcome, according to a new analysis of her record prepared for The New York Times. Her influence -- measured by how often she is on the winning side -- is rising. Along with the chief justice, a frequent voting partner, Barrett could be one of the few people in the country to check the actions of the president. Advertisement Overall, her assumption of the seat once held by Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg has moved the court's outcomes dramatically to the right and locked in conservative victories on gun rights, affirmative action and the power of federal agencies. But in Trump-related disputes, she is the member of the supermajority who has sided with him the least. That position is making her the focus of animus, hope and debate. In interviews, some liberals who considered the court lost when she was appointed have used phrases like, 'It's all on Amy.' When Justices Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan agreed on nonunanimous decisions this term, Barrett joined them 82% of the time -- up from 39% of the time in her first term. Some of Trump's allies have turned on her, accusing the justice of being a turncoat and calling her -- a mother of seven, with two Black children adopted from Haiti -- a 'DEI hire.' Her young son asked why she had a bulletproof vest, she said in a speech last year, and her extended family has been threatened, including with pizza deliveries that convey a warning: We know where you live. 'We had too much hope for her,' Mike Davis, a right-wing legal activist with close ties to the Trump administration, said in a recent interview. 'She doesn't have enough courage.' This spring, on Steve Bannon's podcast, Davis tore into her in such crude terms, even mocking the size of her family, that Justice Neil Gorsuch, for whom Davis had once clerked, phoned him to express disapproval of his comments, according to people aware of the exchange. Trump has privately complained about her too, according to two people familiar with his thinking. Advertisement But she rarely abandons the other Republican appointees in the most significant cases. 'It's a mistake by ignorant conservatives and wishful liberals to believe she's moderating,' said Noah Feldman, a Harvard University law professor who befriended her when they clerked at the court. Like others who know her, he said that both the right and the left had misread her. 'She's exactly the person I met 25 years ago: principled, absolutely conservative, not interested in shifting . " Friends, former colleagues and people from the court describe the justice as more of a methodical problem solver than an architect with grand plans for the law. 'A law professor to my bones,' she said in a 2022 talk, referring to her years teaching at Notre Dame Law School. When others tried to draft her for the bench, she was uncertain about becoming a judge, according to those who know her well. She still maintains a tucked-away office at Notre Dame. Some on the right are turning her scholarly background against her, complaining that she is too fussy about the fine points of the law and sounding a rallying cry of 'no more academics' for future appointments. On the court, she stands somewhat alone. One of only two former law professors, she is also the least experienced judge, the youngest member of the group, at 53, and the only mother of grade-school children ever to serve. The sole current justice who was not educated at Harvard or Yale University, she is a Washington outsider and foreigner to the power-player Beltway posts that shaped most of her colleagues. Advertisement She strikes an earnest tone in talking about her job. 'The day that I think I am better than the next person in the grocery store checkout line is a bad day,' she said in a 2022 talk. Her apartness shows in her votes and her signature move of joining only slices of her colleagues' opinions. She agrees with most of the supermajority's outcomes, but sometimes writes to say they took the wrong route to their conclusion. (One person from the court called her the Hermione Granger of the conservatives, telling the men they're doing it wrong.) Or she joins the liberal justices but stipulates that she can't fully buy in. 'She hasn't found a team,' said Sarah Isgur, a legal podcast host, pointing to her habit of marking where she departs from conservative colleagues, and to a recent death penalty ruling in which she was sitting 'in the middle of that decision.' But the Trump administration's conflict with the courts and pushing of constitutional boundaries may force her to take a more decisive stance. Of the three justices at the center of the court, where the most influence lies, she is the only one without a long trail of views on how much power a president should have -- the issue at the heart of nearly all these cases. 'She doesn't have 10 years to mellow into it,' Feldman said. 'Now is the crisis.' The professor and the beltway One morning in April, the justices formed a nine-person frieze of contrasts as they heard oral arguments in Mahmoud v. Taylor, over whether parents of public elementary school students are entitled to religious exemptions from lessons involving books about LGBTQ+ people. Alito, quick to favor exemptions, clashed with Sotomayor, who was skeptical. As she spoke, Alito shut his eyes and leaned far back in his chair. Advertisement Barrett composed herself into a portrait of someone in listening mode, eyes trained, chin resting on hands. She asked open-ended, just-trying-to-understand questions, then sharper ones, moving in on a factual hole in the school's argument and politely forcing the lawyer to admit it. By the time the justices rose, American parents seemed likely to gain more control over the ideas their children encounter in public school. Her queries made a similar impression when she arrived as a student at Notre Dame Law three decades ago: She was so incisive that several instructors said they were learning from her. She won a clerkship with Justice Antonin Scalia but then chose the quiet work of a law professor. Not the hotshot kind: 'She wasn't trying to break big new ground,' recalled Joseph P. Bauer, her civil procedure teacher and, later, fellow faculty member. 'She is not going to present an argument that shifts the paradigm, or reconceives ways of looking at things, or makes big moves.' The courses she taught were about the rules of the road -- evidence, procedure, the fine-grained reading of laws. In her own scholarship, she delved into questions that even some academics considered too nerdy to answer. Mark McKenna, a former faculty member, said, 'I remember people pushing her, 'Does anyone care about these things?'' Although others envisioned her on the bench, she was not sold. By 2017, when a seat opened up on the 7th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals, covering three Midwestern states, she had a stack of teaching awards and a brimming family life, including a young child with Down syndrome. William Kelley, a Notre Dame colleague with Washington connections, encouraged her but figured she would not pursue it, he said. Advertisement 'Attention, power, cool things, elitism -- she has zero interest,' he said of his friend, who once served on the university's parking committee. But she said yes. During Senate confirmation hearings Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., asked her a maladroit question about her Catholicism. 'The dogma lives loudly within you,' the senator said, implying that her rulings would flow from Rome. It was insulting -- and lucky. The nominee became an instant lodestar for religious women. The White House counsel's team made mugs emblazoned with her face and Feinstein's words. That year, Donald F. McGahn II, the head of that office, showed up at her judicial investiture. Six months later, Trump was interviewing her for the Supreme Court seat that went to Judge Brett Kavanaugh. She had been on the bench for only a year and barely had a record. Two years later, in 2020, she was nominated before Ginsburg was even buried. Though the presidential election was only six weeks away, Republicans raced her through the confirmation process, four years after they blocked President Barack Obama's nominee on the grounds that an election was coming in eight months. Trump's comments about Barrett in 2020 and his more recent complaints were relayed by several people who requested anonymity to share confidential information. Harrison Fields, a White House spokesperson, said that Trump 'may disagree with the court and some of its rulings, but he will always respect its foundational role.' The ramrod-straight jurist had little in common personally with Trump. 'When I think of Amy, I think of someone deeply devoted to family and faith, who does not seek out the limelight, who is humble and just wants to quietly do the work,' said Amanda Tyler, a law professor at the University of California, Berkeley; former clerk to Ginsburg; and longtime friend to Barrett. To lawmakers, the nominee stressed her independence. But the president had already said the justices he appointed would be 'automatic' votes to overturn Roe v. Wade. On the public stage, certain facts (her large family and membership in a religious community that had once called women leaders 'handmaids') overshadowed others (when she became a federal judge, every member of her clerkship class, liberals included, endorsed her). Partisans said she stood for their greatest hopes or worst fears. She was confirmed without a single Democratic vote. The new justice arrived at a Supreme Court that was operating under pandemic conditions and still in mourning. 'I didn't know how I would be received,' she would later say. Liberals were unsure how the court would ever again garner the five votes necessary to prevail in a case. Barrett set her own path in the first major case she heard. In Fulton v. Philadelphia, the justices considered whether the city could exclude a Catholic agency from its foster care system because it refused to work with LGBTQ+ couples. Alito had long sought to overturn a 1990 precedent, written by Scalia, that said religious beliefs were not a basis for refusing to comply with generally applicable laws -- say, ones banning drug use. A year earlier, four conservative justices signaled that they were ready to undo the decision and expand religious rights. Now they appeared to have the votes. But Alito's effort failed. The court settled on a unanimous bottom line, requiring the city to do business with the agency but skirting bigger questions and dividing on the reasoning. Alito wrote a furious 77-page concurrence. 'The court has emitted a wisp of a decision that leaves religious liberty in a confused and vulnerable state,' he wrote. Barrett countered in just three paragraphs, explaining that she was skeptical of the precedent but wanted to know what could replace it. Others inside and outside the court took notice: She was willing to confound expectations. An independent streak To many Americans, the conservative supermajority can look like a unified front reshaping the law through blunt force. Internally, the coalition is more fractured -- six people debating how quickly to move, how far to go and whether public perception matters. Barrett has favored a more deliberate approach than some of her colleagues. In classroom lectures, she used to say that the country had bound itself to the Constitution the way Odysseus had tied himself to the mast of his ship, to resist whatever political sirens swam up. 'She wants to be seen as apolitical,' said Sherif Girgis, a Notre Dame faculty member. He argued that she was sending a message in the neutral-sounding lines of her opinions: 'The method made me do it, the theory made me do it, not my policy preferences.' Although Scalia, her mentor, is remembered as a leader of the legal right, he also surprised the public at times. He famously signed onto an opinion that said burning the American flag was protected by the Constitution. 'Justice Scalia used to say, and I wholeheartedly agree, that if you find yourself liking the results of every decision that you make, you're in the wrong job,' Barrett said in 2024. 'You should sometimes be reaching results that you really dislike because it's not your job to just be deciding cases in the way that you'd like them to be seen.' As a junior justice, she is rarely assigned high-profile opinions. But she has defined herself through her concurrences, particularly ones that argue the other conservatives are going off track. Several times, she has told Justice Clarence Thomas that he leans too heavily on history in making decisions, including last year, when the court rejected a lawyer's attempt to trademark the phrase 'Trump Too Small.' Although Barrett agreed with the outcome, she wrote that Thomas' reasoning was faulty, in part because 'the historical record does not alone suffice' as a basis for the decision. She was drawing a line on how far originalism, the dominant method of interpretation on the legal right, could go. The differences between Barrett and Alito are deeper, say people who have worked with them, as well as outsiders who see them as foils in a debate over how to interpret and shape the law. Alito, 75, is in a hurry to take advantage of the conservative dominance on the court, barely disguising his annoyance at times when the other conservatives don't go along with him. Barrett, who is likely to have a much longer future at the court, measures every move. 'We can see from her opinions that she's a careful, precise thinker, and she's been thrust into this very volatile environment,' said Ed Whelan, a conservative legal commentator. In Barrett's first weeks on the court, soon after arguments in the foster care case, the court heard the third major Republican challenge to Obama's health care law. Alito voted to overturn it. Barrett and others took the position that the suit was invalid because the plaintiffs lacked standing. As his colleagues were declining to remedy what Alito saw as an egregious problem, he once again wrote a blistering critique. In a patent case, he and Barrett wrote dueling dissents, both claiming that Scalia would have favored their positions. That term, he was pushing to hear Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization, the case that would eventually overturn the federal right to abortion. Barrett initially voted with him, but voiced concerns about taking on such a big issue so soon after her arrival at the court, then switched to a no, according to two people familiar with the process. Alito and three other male justices, the minimum to accept a case, greenlighted it and bet correctly that she would vote with them on the ultimate decision, upending a right that had stood for a half-century. Alito's criticisms have been amplified by outsiders on the right who accuse Barrett of being conflict-shy -- a 'trimmer' who goes partway, in that universe's parlance. Some fear she is a 'drifter' like Justices Sandra Day O'Connor and David Souter, who were appointed by Republican presidents but moved left. (Justices on the ideological move have tended to come from outside Washington.) She holds conservative principles but is reluctant to act on them, critics charge. In a politically fraught case from Idaho last year, she spoke for the two other swing justices, Roberts and Kavanaugh, in dismissing the case and temporarily allowing emergency abortions. Alito wrote that her reasoning was 'patently unsound.' After Barrett's second term, her agreement on outcomes with Alito slid from 80% to 62%, according to the analysis prepared for the Times, by Lee Epstein and Andrew D. Martin, both of Washington University in St. Louis, and Michael J. Nelson, of Penn State. At the same time, Barrett was forging bonds with Sotomayor and Kagan. For them, nearly all roads to victory run through the justice from South Bend, Indiana. From the beginning, Sotomayor has treated her warmly, offering a congratulatory call after her confirmation, the first from the court; Halloween candy for her children; and a gift for her daughter's 18th birthday, according to Barrett's speeches. The new justice's first-ever dissent was with two of the liberals, and she has described how happy she was to speak for the group. In April at the court, Barrett and Sotomayor, along with Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson, helped lead a celebration of two federal judges' civil rights work. Initially, the mother of seven appeared to have little in common with Kagan, who had cracked senators up at her confirmation hearing with a joke about spending Christmas at a Chinese restaurant. Some conservatives who have worked at the court are wary of Kagan, because of her record of crafting compromises and narrowing decisions with which she disagrees, and her practice of gathering internal intelligence about the views of her colleagues to see where decisions are going. Kagan, though, is the only other academic on the court. She also votes with conservatives more than Sotomayor. When Barrett wrote her critique of Thomas' approach in the 'Trump Too Small' case -- which amounted to a declaration that some versions of originalism went too far -- Kagan signed on. But few of Barrett's alliances with liberals have come in marquee cases. 'People are treating her as a cipher and projecting liberal desires on her, like we want her to be like John Paul Stevens or Souter,' said Melissa Murray, a New York University law professor. 'I'm waiting for a case in which her break with some of the other conservatives really makes a difference,' said Michael C. Dorf, a law professor at Cornell University. The glare of the spotlight This spring, days after the menacing pizza deliveries to Barrett's relatives, authorities received a threat to her sister, who lives in South Carolina. 'I've constructed a pipe bomb which I recently placed in Amy Coney Barrett's sister's mailbox at her home,' the note said, according to a police report. The bomb was made of 'a 1x8-inch threaded galvanized pipe, end caps, a kitchen timer, some wires, metal clips and homemade black powder,' the note said, adding, 'Free Palestine!' The mailbox was empty, but the incidents caused 'terror and grief' throughout the family, Bruce Nolan, an uncle, said in an interview. Barrett has said she was trained by her father to control her emotions, and in public, she presents a picture of judicial poise. But friends say that while she embraces the intellectual parts of the job, the degree to which her life has been turned upside down has stunned her. She wasn't really fully prepared for 'the shift into being a public figure,' she said in 2022. In the 1990s, Barrett worked as a clerk for an institution that required far less security, where a chief justice would hop into clerks' cars for spontaneous tennis matches on public courts. In recent years, those on the bench have drawn protests at their homes and faced an assassination attempt and threats. A convicted Jan. 6 rioter said last year that he wanted to slit Barrett from 'ear to ear.' She limits excursions, friends say, because she's been screamed at in public. In an interview, Davis said that because of his friendship with Gorsuch, he was tempering his comments about Barrett. 'Out of respect for him I toned down my rhetoric,' he said, adding that he was sorry for mentioning her children. Amid the hostility, Barrett plans to speak directly to the public, through a book to be published in September. According to several people who have read drafts of the book, 'Listening to the Law,' she is trying to bring the public inside the court, show how it works and how she decides cases. In major ones, Barrett has been in the majority more than any of her colleagues, a measure of her rising influence. Last month she effectively decided a case by recusing herself. The court was weighing whether government money could fund the nation's first religious charter school. Barrett stepped aside, presumably because a friend was an adviser to the school. The court deadlocked 4-4 in what could have been a precedent-setting case, and some conservative activists pounced on Barrett for walking away. There will be even more focus on her in coming months as she and her colleagues deal with a conveyor belt of cases involving much of the president's agenda. So far, Barrett's record on Trump-related votes is short but suggestive. Usually, justices show what scholars call 'appointment bias,' leaning slightly in favor of the presidents who appointed them. She has gone in the other direction. Because emergency orders are tentative, and not every vote is disclosed, the evidence is limited. But she is the Republican appointee who appears to have voted least often for Trump's position, based on three cases decided last year stemming from his attempts to subvert the 2020 election, as well as 14 emergency applications since then arising from his sentencing in New York and recent blitz of executive orders. Now, one group of cases will determine whether and how Trump's deportations can proceed. Another concerns whether lower-court judges can issue nationwide injunctions, which some have used to block or delay Trump's actions. Questions about the legality of Trump's tariff hikes, his strike at Harvard, the firing of federal workers, along with other actions by the Department of Government Efficiency, and his attempt to ban transgender people from the military have been or soon will be subject to the justices' scrutiny. In explaining how she reaches her decisions, Barrett has said that she is open to persuasion, particularly in response to a strong oral argument. 'I have changed my mind,' she said last year, 'even at the Supreme Court.' About the Data: The data in this article come from an analysis prepared for the Times by Lee Epstein and Andrew D. Martin, both of Washington University in St. Louis, and Michael J. Nelson, of Penn State. The researchers used the Supreme Court Database, which contains information about every Supreme Court case since 1791. More information on how decisions are coded 'liberal' or 'conservative' can be found on the database website. This article originally appeared in