The 9th Circuit’s ruling on Friday shows what happens when moral objections count only if they sound religious.
Oregon Right to Life doesn’t advertise itself as a religious organization. It’s a political advocacy group, a 501(c)(4), open to anyone who pays five dollars to join. Its staff doesn’t lead Bible studies. Its mission isn’t overtly theological. But when it challenged Oregon’s abortion coverage mandate in court, it won a major step forward by convincing federal judges that its opposition to abortion is grounded in religion.
And that made all the difference.
On October 31, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals ruled that ORTL’s anti-abortion stance is not just political or ethical but religious, and therefore entitled to constitutional protection. The court reversed a lower court decision that had dismissed the case, sending it back for a new look under stricter constitutional scrutiny. At issue is Oregon’s Reproductive Health Equity Act, which requires employers to provide abortion and contraceptive coverage unless they qualify for a religious exemption.
ORTL doesn’t. Or at least it didn’t until now.
The case, Oregon Right to Life v. Stolfi, isn’t just about abortion or insurance. It’s about what kind of beliefs the law is willing to accommodate. And it exposes a problem lurking at the intersection of religious liberty and conscience rights: only some kinds of conscience count.
Oregon’s law offers exemptions for “religious employers.” But that category is defined narrowly. You must inculcate religious values. You must employ and serve primarily people who share your faith. It’s a definition tailored for churches and temples, not for issue advocacy groups like ORTL. Yet the organization’s board members argued they oppose abortion because of “sincerely held Judeo-Christian beliefs.” That was enough for the court. As Judge Lawrence VanDyke wrote, “ORTL’s opposition to abortion is genuinely religious.”
The court didn’t say Oregon’s law is unconstitutional. It left that for the district court to decide. But it did say the government must treat ORTL’s religious belief as real, even if its organizational structure doesn’t look religious on paper.
That might seem like a victory for religious freedom. But it raises an awkward question: What if ORTL’s anti-abortion stance wasn’t religious?
What if it was secular?
Plenty of groups oppose abortion on entirely nonreligious grounds. Secular Pro-Life, for example, is a national organization of atheists and agnostics who argue that abortion is a violation of human rights. They make their case using science, ethics, and philosophy, not scripture. But under Oregon’s framework, groups like that don’t get exemptions. Only religious objectors do.
So we are left with this: If you want an exception to a generally applicable law, you had better speak the language of religion. That’s not the result of some radical religious favoritism. It’s the byproduct of a legal system that often sees freedom of belief through a theological lens.
There is a long history in American law of deferring to religion while rejecting equivalent secular claims. In 1972, the Supreme Court upheld the right of Amish parents to pull their children from school early because of religious conviction. Try that with a philosophical objection and you’ll get nowhere. In 2020, the court struck down public health restrictions that applied to religious services but not to secular gatherings. The message: If you’re religious, you might get a carveout. If not, don’t count on it.
This double standard has been growing more visible as conscience conflicts move from the pulpit to the public square. Vaccine mandates, anti-discrimination laws, and now abortion coverage all raise the same question: Which beliefs deserve protection?
We can protect religious liberty without narrowing the definition of conscience. The law doesn’t have to treat religion as the only source of moral seriousness. In fact, it shouldn’t.
Oregon’s exemption structure may survive the courts. Or it may be struck down under Catholic Charities Bureau v. Wisconsin, the 2025 Supreme Court decision that bars governments from favoring some religious expressions over others. But either way, the law will still favor religious objectors over secular ones.
That’s a policy choice. It’s also a philosophical gamble. In a pluralist society, there are many ways to arrive at a moral conviction. Some people cite God. Others cite biology or human dignity. When the law draws a line between those two, it does more than protect religion. It elevates it above everything else.
Links:
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Oregon Right to Life v. Stolfi, 24-6650 (9th Cir. 2025): https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2025/10/31/24-6650.pdf
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Secular Pro-Life: https://secularprolife.org/
