The Supreme Court’s Voting Rights Decision Doesn’t Mean Much for N.C.—Yet

In its 6-3 decision in Louisiana v. Callais, the U.S. Supreme Court last week ruled ruled that Louisiana was not required under the Voting Rights Act to draw a second majority-minority district. The short-term ramifications for Louisiana are clear: They will redraw their congressional maps to eliminate at least one majority-minority district, and thus at least one district that favors Democratic candidates. 

Republicans in Tennessee, Alabama, and South Carolina have indicated that they may make similar moves. Thus far, North Carolina politicians have been quiet.

This is because the Callais decision—which has deep roots in North Carolina—is unlikely to do much to change the partisan or racial makeup of our state’s congressional and state legislative districts, at least in the short term.

North Carolina has the earliest primary date in America. We’ve already cast ballots and certified the election. Even if there were short-term partisan gains to be made, there’s just no way to facilitate a re-do before the general election in November.

There’s also the reality of the existing districts. In Louisiana and Tennessee, mapmakers can eke out another Republican district with a few strategic clicks of the mouse. In North Carolina—at least at the congressional level—gaining more Republican advantage may not be possible, especially after lawmakers drew new maps last year to make the 1st Congressional District more Republican and less racially diverse.

The redistricting process and its evil twin gerrymandering don’t eliminate voters, they spread the minority party’s supporters out with the goal of diluting their vote to get more representatives from the ruling party. But those minority party voters must go somewhere.

If General Assembly Republicans were to, for example, crack Mecklenburg County’s bright blue precincts into more districts, they could take away the Democrats’ advantage in the 12th Congressional District, which Democrat Alma Adams won by 48 points in 2024. But they’d run the risk of putting one of the surrounding districts, where Republicans won by smaller double-digit margins, in play for Democrats—increasing the odds of the dreaded dummymander.

After all, this process of spreading Democratic voters in one area across multiple districts is the same strategy Democrats are using in states like Virginia to gain advantage.

This risk of a dummymander is particularly great in 2026. The party of the president reliably loses seats in the midterm, which puts the Republicans at a disadvantage. North Carolina legislators are likely more interested in holding onto what they’ve got now than expanding the map again.

Tar Heel Ties

Although Callais may not have short-term implications for North Carolina, the decision has deep roots in the Old North State. Its two legal touchstones, Thornburg v. Gingles and Rucho v. Common Cause, both originate here.

Thornburg v. Gingles, decided in 1986, was about the legality of multimember state legislative districts. Ralph Gingles of Gaston County and other plaintiffs sued state officials, alleging that lawmakers had drawn districts that got to elect multiple representatives, diluting the voting strength of Black citizens. Ultimately, the court ruled for Gingles, finding that the maps violated Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, which prohibits voting practices that discriminate based on race. Gingles created a three-prong test requiring plaintiffs to show, among other things, that minority voters were numerous and compact enough to form a majority district and that voting was racially polarized.

In Callais, the majority argued that although they are not outlawing Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act, previous courts have misinterpreted it. Litigants in the future must show “intentional discrimination” to prove a Section 2 claim. The justices in the majority said they needed to “update” Gingles. In doing so, they raised the bar to successfully claim that district maps illegally dilute the vote of a particular racial group. 

Both the majority and minority opinions are also tied inexorably to 2019’s Rucho v. Common Cause, another case from North Carolina. The case takes its name from Bob Rucho, then a state senator.

In Rucho, the U.S. Supreme Court held that, although it believed partisan gerrymandering was “incompatible with democratic principles,” that wasn’t any of the court’s business. Mapmakers, the court said, could draw districts to achieve partisan goals.

In Callais, the majority held that because partisan gerrymandering is legal, plaintiffs in Section 2 cases must prove that the maps in question discriminate based on race “controlling for partisanship.”

This task may be nearly impossible.

In most Southern congressional districts, race and party affiliation are so thoroughly intertwined that it’s nearly impossible to separate them. For example, there are currently no white Democrats representing Alabama, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, or South Carolina in the U.S. House of Representatives. There are also no Black Republicans representing the region in the House.

Justice Elena Kagan, writing for the minority, also references Rucho, although in a less positive light: “It is not enough that Rucho has harmed the whole body politic. Now, that decision also becomes the cudgel to diminish the rightful voting influence of its minority citizens.”

Clearly, she is not a fan.

See You Next Time

If North Carolina can temper its tendency to redraw maps more often than most people change the oil in their car, then the next opportunity for Callais to affect the Tar Heel State will come after the 2030 Census.

In the past, Section 2 and the previous iteration of the Gingles test lurked as a veiled threat for discriminatory maps—a gun behind the door. In the 2031 redraw, the gun remains, but it has no bullets.

Free from worrying about racial dilution claims and with the knowledge that not only can they talk about partisanship, but making their partisan aims clear can help them in any future litigation, legislators will likely feel less constrained than they have in the last 40 years.

Due to its growing population, the state is likely to receive another congressional district as well—creating an opportunity for a partisan pickup and changing the math for every district.

While some General Assembly districts are locked in place through a court ruling known as Stephenson, which requires proximate counties to be drawn into the same district, map architects still have plenty of discretion to draw lines to benefit their party in large, urban counties—exactly the kind of places with larger concentrations of Black voters.

And, let’s not forget about the county commissions, city councils, and even school boards that use district systems. Many previous Section 2 lawsuits have focused on these local governments, often arguing that their district systems dilute the power of Black voters. Changes to these districts in specific counties can be made through local bills in the General Assembly—avoiding the prospect of the governor’s veto.

None of this means that redistricting litigation will stop in North Carolina.

I expect to see more challenges based on the state constitution, rather than on federal claims. For example, former North Carolina Supreme Court Justice Bob Orr has a case before the state Court of Appeals that argues that Article I of the state constitution guarantees “fair elections” and that the current individual districts violate this principle. We might also expect to see lawsuits in federal court using the logic of Section 2, with evidence from nonpartisan and primary elections where partisanship and race are easier to disentangle.

The standard of proof is undoubtedly higher than it was before Callais.

There’s still a gun behind the door, but thanks to Callais, legislators can ignore it. And voters will have to accept the consequences.