(Slip Opinion) OCTOBER TERM, 2010 1 

Syllabus 

NOTE: Where it is feasible, a syllabus (headnote) will be released, as is

being done in connection with this case, at the time the opinion is issued.

The syllabus constitutes no part of the opinion of the Court but has been

prepared by the Reporter of Decisions for the convenience of the reader. 

See United States v. Detroit Timber & Lumber Co., 200 U. S. 321, 337. 

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES 

Syllabus 

J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

CERTIORARI TO THE SUPREME COURT OF NORTH CAROLINA 

No. 09–11121. Argued March 23, 2011—Decided June 16, 2011 

Police stopped and questioned petitioner J. D. B., a 13-year-old, seventh-grade student, upon seeing him near the site of two home breakins. Five days later, after a digital camera matching one of the stolen

items was found at J. D. B.’s school and seen in his possession, Investigator DiCostanzo went to the school. A uniformed police officer on 

detail to the school took J. D. B. from his classroom to a closed-door 

conference room, where police and school administrators questioned

him for at least 30 minutes. Before beginning, they did not give him 

Miranda warnings or the opportunity to call his grandmother, his legal guardian, nor tell him he was free to leave the room. He first denied his involvement, but later confessed after officials urged him to

tell the truth and told him about the prospect of juvenile detention. 

DiCostanzo only then told him that he could refuse to answer questions and was free to leave. Asked whether he understood, J. D. B. 

nodded and provided further detail, including the location of the stolen items. He also wrote a statement, at DiCostanzo’s request. When 

the school day ended, he was permitted to leave to catch the bus 

home. Two juvenile petitions were filed against J. D. B., charging 

him with breaking and entering and with larceny. His public defender moved to suppress his statements and the evidence derived

therefrom, arguing that J. D. B. had been interrogated in a custodial 

setting without being afforded Miranda warnings and that his 

statements were involuntary. The trial court denied the motion. 

J. D. B. entered a transcript of admission to the charges, but renewed 

his objection to the denial of his motion to suppress. The court adjudicated him delinquent, and the North Carolina Court of Appeals and

State Supreme Court affirmed. The latter court declined to find 

J. D. B.’s age relevant to the determination whether he was in police 

custody. 
2 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Syllabus 

Held: A child’s age properly informs Miranda’s custody analysis. Pp. 5–

18. 

(a) Custodial police interrogation entails “inherently compelling 

pressures,” Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436, 467, that “can induce 

a frighteningly high percentage of people to confess to crimes they

never committed,” Corley v. United States, 556 U. S. ___, ___. Recent 

studies suggest that risk is all the more acute when the subject of

custodial interrogation is a juvenile. Whether a suspect is “in custody” for Miranda purposes is an objective determination involving 

two discrete inquires: “first, what were the circumstances surrounding the interrogation; and second, given those circumstances, would a

reasonable person have felt he or she was at liberty to terminate the

interrogation and leave.” Thompson v. Keohane, 516 U. S. 99, 112 

(footnote omitted). The police and courts must “examine all of the

circumstances surrounding the interrogation,” Stansbury v. California, 511 U. S. 318, 322, including those that “would have affected

how a reasonable person” in the suspect’s position “would perceive 

his or her freedom to leave,” id., at 325. However, the test involves 

no consideration of the particular suspect’s “actual mindset.” Yarborough v. Alvarado, 541 U. S. 652, 667. By limiting analysis to objective circumstances, the test avoids burdening police with the task

of anticipating each suspect’s idiosyncrasies and divining how those 

particular traits affect that suspect’s subjective state of mind. Berkemer v. McCarty, 468 U. S. 420, 430–431. Pp. 5–8.

(b) In some circumstances, a child’s age “would have affected how a

reasonable person” in the suspect’s position “would perceive his or 

her freedom to leave.” Stansbury, 511 U. S., at 325. Courts can account for that reality without doing any damage to the objective nature of the custody analysis. A child’s age is far “more than a chronological fact.” Eddings v. Oklahoma, 455 U. S. 104, 115. It is a fact 

that “generates commonsense conclusions about behavior and perception,” Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 674, that apply broadly to children as a 

class. Children “generally are less mature and responsible than 

adults,” Eddings, 455 U. S., at 115; they “often lack the experience, 

perspective, and judgment to recognize and avoid choices that could 

be detrimental to them,” Bellotti v. Baird, 443 U. S. 622, 635; and 

they “are more vulnerable or susceptible to . . . outside pressures” 

than adults, Roper v. Simmons, 543 U. S. 551, 569. In the specific

context of police interrogation, events that “would leave a man cold

and unimpressed can overawe and overwhelm a” teen. Haley v. Ohio, 

332 U. S. 596, 599. The law has historically reflected the same assumption that children characteristically lack the capacity to exercise

mature judgment and possess only an incomplete ability to understand the world around them. Legal disqualifications on children as 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 3 

Syllabus 

a class—e.g., limitations on their ability to marry without parental

consent—exhibit the settled understanding that the differentiating

characteristics of youth are universal. 

Given a history “replete with laws and judicial recognition” that 

children cannot be viewed simply as miniature adults, Eddings, 455 

U. S., at 115–116, there is no justification for taking a different

course here. So long as the child’s age was known to the officer at the 

time of the interview, or would have been objectively apparent to a 

reasonable officer, including age as part of the custody analysis requires officers neither to consider circumstances “unknowable” to 

them, Berkemer, 468 U. S., at 430, nor to“ ‘“anticipat[e] the frailties

or idiosyncrasies” of the particular suspect being questioned.” ’ ” Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 662. Precisely because childhood yields objective conclusions, considering age in the custody analysis does not involve a determination of how youth affects a particular child’s 

subjective state of mind. In fact, were the court precluded from taking J. D. B.’s youth into account, it would be forced to evaluate the 

circumstances here through the eyes of a reasonable adult, when 

some objective circumstances surrounding an interrogation at school 

are specific to children. These conclusions are not undermined by the 

Court’s observation in Alvarado that accounting for a juvenile’s age 

in the Miranda custody analysis “could be viewed as creating a subjective inquiry,” 541 U. S., at 668. The Court said nothing about

whether such a view would be correct under the law or whether it 

simply merited deference under the Antiterrorism and Effective 

Death Penalty Act of 1996, 110 Stat. 1214. So long as the child’s age 

was known to the officer, or would have been objectively apparent to

a reasonable officer, including age in the custody analysis is consistent with the Miranda test’s objective nature. This does not mean 

that a child’s age will be a determinative, or even a significant, factor 

in every case, but it is a reality that courts cannot ignore. Pp. 8–14.

(c) Additional arguments that the State and its amici offer for excluding age from the custody inquiry are unpersuasive. Pp. 14–18.

(d) On remand, the state courts are to address the question 

whether J. D. B. was in custody when he was interrogated, taking account of all of the relevant circumstances of the interrogation, including J. D. B.’s age at the time. P. 18. 

363 N. C. 664, 686 S. E. 2d 135, reversed and remanded. 

SOTOMAYOR, J., delivered the opinion of the Court, in which KENNEDY, 

GINSBURG, BREYER, and KAGAN, JJ., joined. ALITO, J., filed a dissenting 

opinion, in which ROBERTS, C. J., and SCALIA and THOMAS, JJ., joined. 
_________________ 

_________________ 

Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 1 

Opinion of the Court 

NOTICE: This opinion is subject to formal revision before publication in the

preliminary print of the United States Reports. Readers are requested to

notify the Reporter of Decisions, Supreme Court of the United States, Washington, D. C. 20543, of any typographical or other formal errors, in order

that corrections may be made before the preliminary print goes to press. 

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES 

No. 09–11121 

J. D. B., PETITIONER v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ON WRIT OF CERTIORARI TO THE SUPREME COURT OF

NORTH CAROLINA

[June 16, 2011] 

JUSTICE SOTOMAYOR delivered the opinion of the Court. 

This case presents the question whether the age of a 

child subjected to police questioning is relevant to the

custody analysis of Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436 

(1966). It is beyond dispute that children will often feel 

bound to submit to police questioning when an adult in the 

same circumstances would feel free to leave. Seeing no

reason for police officers or courts to blind themselves to 

that commonsense reality, we hold that a child’s age properly informs the Miranda custody analysis. 

I 

A 

Petitioner J. D. B. was a 13-year-old, seventh-grade

student attending class at Smith Middle School in Chapel 

Hill, North Carolina when he was removed from his classroom by a uniformed police officer, escorted to a closeddoor conference room, and questioned by police for at least

half an hour. 

This was the second time that police questioned J. D. B.

in the span of a week. Five days earlier, two home breakins occurred, and various items were stolen. Police 

stopped and questioned J. D. B. after he was seen behind a 
2 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

residence in the neighborhood where the crimes occurred. 

That same day, police also spoke to J. D. B.’s grandmother—his legal guardian—as well as his aunt. 

Police later learned that a digital camera matching the

description of one of the stolen items had been found at

J. D. B.’s middle school and seen in J. D. B.’s possession. 

Investigator DiCostanzo, the juvenile investigator with 

the local police force who had been assigned to the case, 

went to the school to question J. D. B. Upon arrival,

DiCostanzo informed the uniformed police officer on detail

to the school (a so-called school resource officer), the assistant principal, and an administrative intern that he was

there to question J. D. B. about the break-ins. Although

DiCostanzo asked the school administrators to verify

J. D. B.’s date of birth, address, and parent contact information from school records, neither the police officers nor the school administrators contacted J. D. B.’s 

grandmother. 

The uniformed officer interrupted J. D. B.’s afternoon

social studies class, removed J. D. B. from the classroom, 

and escorted him to a school conference room.1 There, 

J. D. B. was met by DiCostanzo, the assistant principal, 

and the administrative intern. The door to the conference 

room was closed. With the two police officers and the two 

administrators present, J. D. B. was questioned for the 

next 30 to 45 minutes. Prior to the commencement of 

questioning, J. D. B. was given neither Miranda warnings 

nor the opportunity to speak to his grandmother. Nor was 

he informed that he was free to leave the room. 

Questioning began with small talk—discussion of sports 

and J. D. B.’s family life. DiCostanzo asked, and J. D. B. 

—————— 

1Although the State suggests that the “record is unclear as to who 

brought J. D. B. to the conference room, and the trial court made no

factual findings on this specific point,” Brief for Respondent 3, n. 1, the 

State agreed at the certiorari stage that “the SRO [school resource

officer] escorted petitioner” to the room, Brief in Opposition 3. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 3 

Opinion of the Court 

agreed, to discuss the events of the prior weekend. Denying any wrongdoing, J. D. B. explained that he had been in

the neighborhood where the crimes occurred because he

was seeking work mowing lawns. DiCostanzo pressed

J. D. B. for additional detail about his efforts to obtain 

work; asked J. D. B. to explain a prior incident, when one 

of the victims returned home to find J. D. B. behind her 

house; and confronted J. D. B. with the stolen camera. 

The assistant principal urged J. D. B. to “do the right 

thing,” warning J. D. B. that “the truth always comes out

in the end.” App. 99a, 112a.

Eventually, J. D. B. asked whether he would “still be in 

trouble” if he returned the “stuff.” Ibid. In response,

DiCostanzo explained that return of the stolen items 

would be helpful, but “this thing is going to court” regardless. Id., at 112a; ibid. (“[W]hat’s done is done[;] now you 

need to help yourself by making it right”); see also id., at 

99a. DiCostanzo then warned that he may need to seek a

secure custody order if he believed that J. D. B. would 

continue to break into other homes. When J. D. B. asked 

what a secure custody order was, DiCostanzo explained 

that “it’s where you get sent to juvenile detention before

court.” Id., at 112a. 

After learning of the prospect of juvenile detention, 

J. D. B. confessed that he and a friend were responsible for 

the break-ins. DiCostanzo only then informed J. D. B. 

that he could refuse to answer the investigator’s questions 

and that he was free to leave.2 Asked whether he under-

—————— 

2The North Carolina Supreme Court noted that the trial court’s factual findings were “uncontested and therefore . . . binding” on it. In re 

J. D. B., 363 N. C. 664, 668, 686 S. E. 2d 135, 137 (2009). The court 

described the sequence of events set forth in the text. See id., at 670– 

671, 686 S. E. 2d, at 139. (“Immediately following J. D. B.’s initial 

confession, Investigator DiCostanzo informed J. D. B. that he did not 

have to speak with him and that he was free to leave” (internal quotation marks and alterations omitted)). Though less than perfectly 
4 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

stood, J. D. B. nodded and provided further detail, including information about the location of the stolen items. 

Eventually J. D. B. wrote a statement, at DiCostanzo’s 

request. When the bell rang indicating the end of the 

schoolday, J. D. B. was allowed to leave to catch the bus 

home. 

B 

Two juvenile petitions were filed against J. D. B., each

alleging one count of breaking and entering and one count 

of larceny. J. D. B.’s public defender moved to suppress

his statements and the evidence derived therefrom, arguing that suppression was necessary because J. D. B. had 

been “interrogated by police in a custodial setting without

being afforded Miranda warning[s],” App. 89a, and because his statements were involuntary under the totality 

of the circumstances test, id., at 142a; see Schneckloth v. 

Bustamonte, 412 U. S. 218, 226 (1973) (due process precludes admission of a confession where “a defendant’s will 

was overborne” by the circumstances of the interrogation). 

After a suppression hearing at which DiCostanzo and 

J. D. B. testified, the trial court denied the motion, deciding that J. D. B. was not in custody at the time of the 

schoolhouse interrogation and that his statements were 

voluntary. As a result, J. D. B. entered a transcript of 

admission to all four counts, renewing his objection to the

denial of his motion to suppress, and the court adjudicated

J. D. B. delinquent. 

—————— 

explicit, the trial court’s order indicates a finding that J. D. B. initially

confessed prior to DiCostanzo’s warnings. See App. 99a.

Nonetheless, both parties’ submissions to this Court suggest that

the warnings came after DiCostanzo raised the possibility of a secure 

custody order but before J. D. B. confessed for the first time. See Brief 

for Petitioner 5; Brief for Respondent 5. Because we remand for a 

determination whether J. D. B. was in custody under the proper analysis, the state courts remain free to revisit whether the trial court made 

a conclusive finding of fact in this respect. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 5 

Opinion of the Court 

A divided panel of the North Carolina Court of Appeals

affirmed. In re J. D. B., 196 N. C. App. 234, 674 S. E. 2d 

795 (2009). The North Carolina Supreme Court held, over 

two dissents, that J. D. B. was not in custody when he

confessed, “declin[ing] to extend the test for custody to

include consideration of the age . . . of an individual subjected to questioning by police.” In re J. D. B., 363 N. C. 

664, 672, 686 S. E. 2d 135, 140 (2009).3 

We granted certiorari to determine whether the 

Miranda custody analysis includes consideration of a

juvenile suspect’s age. 562 U. S. ___ (2010). 

II 

A 

Any police interview of an individual suspected of a 

crime has “coercive aspects to it.” Oregon v. Mathiason, 

429 U. S. 492, 495 (1977) (per curiam). Only those interrogations that occur while a suspect is in police custody,

however, “heighte[n] the risk” that statements obtained 

are not the product of the suspect’s free choice. Dickerson 

v. United States, 530 U. S. 428, 435 (2000). 

By its very nature, custodial police interrogation entails

“inherently compelling pressures.” Miranda, 384 U. S., at 

467. Even for an adult, the physical and psychological 

isolation of custodial interrogation can “undermine the

individual’s will to resist and . . . compel him to speak 

where he would not otherwise do so freely.” Ibid. Indeed, 

the pressure of custodial interrogation is so immense that 

it “can induce a frighteningly high percentage of people to

confess to crimes they never committed.” Corley v. United 

States, 556 U. S. __, __ (2009) (slip op., at 16) (citing Drizin 

—————— 

3 J. D. B.’s challenge in the North Carolina Supreme Court focused on 

the lower courts’ conclusion that he was not in custody for purposes of 

Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436 (1966). The North Carolina Supreme Court did not address the trial court’s holding that the statements were voluntary, and that question is not before us. 
6 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

& Leo, The Problem of False Confessions in the Post-DNA 

World, 82 N. C. L. Rev. 891, 906–907 (2004)); see also 

Miranda, 384 U. S., at 455, n. 23. That risk is all the 

more troubling—and recent studies suggest, all the more 

acute—when the subject of custodial interrogation is a

juvenile. See Brief for Center on Wrongful Convictions of

Youth et al. as Amici Curiae 21–22 (collecting empirical 

studies that “illustrate the heightened risk of false confessions from youth”). 

Recognizing that the inherently coercive nature of custodial interrogation “blurs the line between voluntary and

involuntary statements,” Dickerson, 530 U. S., at 435, 

this Court in Miranda adopted a set of prophylactic measures designed to safeguard the constitutional guarantee

against self-incrimination. Prior to questioning, a suspect 

“must be warned that he has a right to remain silent, that

any statement he does make may be used as evidence

against him, and that he has a right to the presence of an

attorney, either retained or appointed.” 384 U. S., at 444; 

see also Florida v. Powell, 559 U. S. ___, ___ (2010) (slip 

op., at 8) (“The four warnings Miranda requires are invariable, but this Court has not dictated the words in 

which the essential information must be conveyed”). And, 

if a suspect makes a statement during custodial interrogation, the burden is on the Government to show, as a “prerequisit[e]” to the statement’s admissibility as evidence in 

the Government’s case in chief, that the defendant “voluntarily, knowingly and intelligently” waived his rights.4 

Miranda, 384 U. S., at 444, 475–476; Dickerson, 530 U. S., 

at 443–444. 

—————— 

4 Amici on behalf of J. D. B. question whether children of all ages can

comprehend Miranda warnings and suggest that additional procedural 

safeguards may be necessary to protect their Miranda rights. Brief for 

Juvenile Law Center et al. as Amici Curiae 13–14, n. 7. Whatever the 

merit of that contention, it has no relevance here, where no Miranda 

warnings were administered at all. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 7 

Opinion of the Court 

Because these measures protect the individual against 

the coercive nature of custodial interrogation, they are 

required “‘only where there has been such a restriction on 

a person’s freedom as to render him “in custody.”’” Stansbury v. California, 511 U. S. 318, 322 (1994) (per curiam) 

(quoting Oregon v. Mathiason, 429 U. S. 492, 495 (1977) 

(per curiam)). As we have repeatedly emphasized,

whether a suspect is “in custody” is an objective inquiry. 

“Two discrete inquiries are essential to the determination: first, what were the circumstances surrounding 

the interrogation; and second, given those circumstances, would a reasonable person have felt he or she 

was at liberty to terminate the interrogation and 

leave. Once the scene is set and the players’ lines and

actions are reconstructed, the court must apply an objective test to resolve the ultimate inquiry: was there 

a formal arrest or restraint on freedom of movement 

of the degree associated with formal arrest.” Thompson v. Keohane, 516 U. S. 99, 112 (1995) (internal quotation marks, alteration, and footnote omitted). 

See also Yarborough v. Alvarado, 541 U. S. 652, 662–663 

(2004); Stansbury, 511 U. S., at 323; Berkemer v. McCarty, 

468 U. S. 420, 442, and n. 35 (1984). Rather than demarcate a limited set of relevant circumstances, we have 

required police officers and courts to “examine all of the

circumstances surrounding the interrogation,” Stansbury, 

511 U. S., at 322, including any circumstance that “would

have affected how a reasonable person” in the suspect’s

position “would perceive his or her freedom to leave,” id., 

at 325. On the other hand, the “subjective views harbored 

by either the interrogating officers or the person being

questioned” are irrelevant. Id., at 323. The test, in other 

words, involves no consideration of the “actual mindset” of 

the particular suspect subjected to police questioning. 

Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 667; see also California v. Beheler, 
8 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

463 U. S. 1121, 1125, n. 3 (1983) (per curiam). 

The benefit of the objective custody analysis is that it is

“designed to give clear guidance to the police.” Alvarado, 

541 U. S., at 668. But see Berkemer, 468 U. S., at 441 

(recognizing the “occasiona[l] . . . difficulty” that police and 

courts nonetheless have in “deciding exactly when a suspect has been taken into custody”). Police must make inthe-moment judgments as to when to administer Miranda 

warnings. By limiting analysis to the objective circumstances of the interrogation, and asking how a reasonable 

person in the suspect’s position would understand his

freedom to terminate questioning and leave, the objective 

test avoids burdening police with the task of anticipating

the idiosyncrasies of every individual suspect and divining 

how those particular traits affect each person’s subjective

state of mind. See id., at 430–431 (officers are not required to “make guesses” as to circumstances “unknowable” to them at the time); Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 668 

(officers are under no duty “to consider . . . contingent

psychological factors when deciding when suspects should 

be advised of their Miranda rights”). 

B 

The State and its amici contend that a child’s age has no

place in the custody analysis, no matter how young the 

child subjected to police questioning. We cannot agree. In 

some circumstances, a child’s age “would have affected 

how a reasonable person” in the suspect’s position “would 

perceive his or her freedom to leave.” Stansbury, 511 

U. S., at 325. That is, a reasonable child subjected to 

police questioning will sometimes feel pressured to submit

when a reasonable adult would feel free to go. We think 

it clear that courts can account for that reality without

doing any damage to the objective nature of the custody 

analysis.

A child’s age is far “more than a chronological fact.” 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 9 

Opinion of the Court 

Eddings v. Oklahoma, 455 U. S. 104, 115 (1982); accord, 

Gall v. United States, 552 U. S. 38, 58 (2007); Roper v. 

Simmons, 543 U. S. 551, 569 (2005); Johnson v. Texas, 509 

U. S. 350, 367 (1993). It is a fact that “generates commonsense conclusions about behavior and perception.” Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 674 (BREYER, J., dissenting). Such 

conclusions apply broadly to children as a class. And, they

are self-evident to anyone who was a child once himself, 

including any police officer or judge.

Time and again, this Court has drawn these commonsense conclusions for itself. We have observed that children “generally are less mature and responsible than

adults,” Eddings, 455 U. S., at 115–116; that they “often

lack the experience, perspective, and judgment to recognize and avoid choices that could be detrimental to them,” 

Bellotti v. Baird, 443 U. S. 622, 635 (1979) (plurality opinion); that they “are more vulnerable or susceptible to . . .

outside pressures” than adults, Roper, 543 U. S., at 569; 

and so on. See Graham v. Florida, 560 U. S. ___, ___ 

(2010) (slip op., at 17) (finding no reason to “reconsider” 

these observations about the common “nature of juveniles”). Addressing the specific context of police interrogation, we have observed that events that “would leave a 

man cold and unimpressed can overawe and overwhelm a 

lad in his early teens.” Haley v. Ohio, 332 U. S. 596, 599 

(1948) (plurality opinion); see also Gallegos v. Colorado, 

370 U. S. 49, 54 (1962) (“[N]o matter how sophisticated,” a 

juvenile subject of police interrogation “cannot be compared” to an adult subject). Describing no one child in

particular, these observations restate what “any parent

knows”—indeed, what any person knows—about children

generally. Roper, 543 U. S., at 569.5 

—————— 

5Although citation to social science and cognitive science authorities 

is unnecessary to establish these commonsense propositions, the 

literature confirms what experience bears out. See, e.g., Graham v. 
10 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

Our various statements to this effect are far from 

unique. The law has historically reflected the same assumption that children characteristically lack the capacity

to exercise mature judgment and possess only an incomplete ability to understand the world around them. See, 

e.g., 1 W. Blackstone, Commentaries on the Laws of England *464–*465 (hereinafter Blackstone) (explaining that 

limits on children’s legal capacity under the common law 

“secure them from hurting themselves by their own improvident acts”). Like this Court’s own generalizations,

the legal disqualifications placed on children as a class— 

e.g., limitations on their ability to alienate property, enter 

a binding contract enforceable against them, and marry

without parental consent—exhibit the settled understanding that the differentiating characteristics of youth are 

universal.6 

Indeed, even where a “reasonable person” standard 

—————— 

Florida, 560 U. S. ___, ___ (2010) (slip op., at 17) (“[D]evelopments in

psychology and brain science continue to show fundamental differences 

between juvenile and adult minds”). 6See, e.g., 1 E. Farnsworth, Contracts §4.4, p. 379, and n. 1 (1990)

(“Common law courts early announced the prevailing view that a 

minor’s contract is ‘voidable’ at the instance of the minor” (citing 8 W. 

Holdsworth, History of English Law 51 (1926))); 1 D. Kramer, Legal 

Rights of Children §8.1, p. 663 (rev. 2d ed. 2005) (“[W]hile minor

children have the right to acquire and own property, they are considered incapable of property management” (footnote omitted)); 2 J. Kent, 

Commentaries on American Law *78–*79, *90 (G. Comstock ed., 11th

ed. 1867); see generally id., at *233 (explaining that, under the common

law, “[t]he necessity of guardians results from the inability of infants to

take care of themselves . . . and this inability continues, in contemplation of law, until the infant has attained the age of [21]”); 1 Blackstone

*465 (“It is generally true, that an infant can neither aliene his lands,

nor do any legal act, nor make a deed, nor indeed any manner of 

contract, that will bind him”); Roper v. Simmons, 543 U. S. 551, 569 

(2005) (“In recognition of the comparative immaturity and irresponsibility of juveniles, almost every State prohibits those under 18 years 

of age from voting, serving on juries, or marrying without parental 

consent”). 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 11 

Opinion of the Court 

otherwise applies, the common law has reflected the reality that children are not adults. In negligence suits, for 

instance, where liability turns on what an objectively 

reasonable person would do in the circumstances, “[a]ll 

American jurisdictions accept the idea that a person’s 

childhood is a relevant circumstance” to be considered. 

Restatement (Third) of Torts §10, Comment b, p. 117 

(2005); see also id., Reporters’ Note, pp. 121–122 (collecting cases); Restatement (Second) of Torts §283A, Comment b, p. 15 (1963–1964) (“[T]here is a wide basis of 

community experience upon which it is possible, as a 

practical matter, to determine what is to be expected of 

[children]”).

As this discussion establishes, “[o]ur history is replete

with laws and judicial recognition” that children cannot be

viewed simply as miniature adults. Eddings, 455 U. S., at 

115–116. We see no justification for taking a different

course here. So long as the child’s age was known to the 

officer at the time of the interview, or would have been 

objectively apparent to any reasonable officer, including 

age as part of the custody analysis requires officers neither to consider circumstances “unknowable” to them, 

Berkemer, 468 U. S., at 430, nor to “anticipat[e] the frailties or idiosyncrasies” of the particular suspect whom they

question, Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 662 (internal quotation 

marks omitted). The same “wide basis of community

experience” that makes it possible, as an objective matter,

“to determine what is to be expected” of children in other

contexts, Restatement (Second) of Torts §283A, at 15; see 

supra, at 10, and n. 6, likewise makes it possible to know 

what to expect of children subjected to police questioning. 

In other words, a child’s age differs from other personal 

characteristics that, even when known to police, have no

objectively discernible relationship to a reasonable person’s understanding of his freedom of action. Alvarado, 

holds, for instance, that a suspect’s prior interrogation 
12 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

history with law enforcement has no role to play in the

custody analysis because such experience could just as

easily lead a reasonable person to feel free to walk away

as to feel compelled to stay in place. 541 U. S., at 668. 

Because the effect in any given case would be “contingent

[on the] psycholog[y]” of the individual suspect, the Court

explained, such experience cannot be considered without 

compromising the objective nature of the custody analysis. 

Ibid. A child’s age, however, is different. Precisely because childhood yields objective conclusions like those we

have drawn ourselves—among others, that children are 

“most susceptible to influence,” Eddings, 455 U. S., at 115, 

and “outside pressures,” Roper, 543 U. S., at 569— 

considering age in the custody analysis in no way involves

a determination of how youth “subjectively affect[s] the 

mindset” of any particular child, Brief for Respondent 14.7 

In fact, in many cases involving juvenile suspects, the

custody analysis would be nonsensical absent some consideration of the suspect’s age. This case is a prime example. Were the court precluded from taking J. D. B.’s youth 

into account, it would be forced to evaluate the circumstances present here through the eyes of a reasonable 

person of average years. In other words, how would a 

reasonable adult understand his situation, after being 

removed from a seventh-grade social studies class by a

uniformed school resource officer; being encouraged by his 

assistant principal to “do the right thing”; and being

warned by a police investigator of the prospect of juvenile

detention and separation from his guardian and primary 

caretaker? To describe such an inquiry is to demonstrate 

—————— 

7Thus, contrary to the dissent’s protestations, today’s holding neither 

invites consideration of whether a particular suspect is “unusually 

meek or compliant,” post, at 9 (opinion of ALITO, J.), nor “expan[ds]” the 

Miranda custody analysis, post, at 8, into a test that requires officers to

anticipate and account for a suspect’s every personal characteristic, see 

post, at 11–12. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 13 

Opinion of the Court 

its absurdity. Neither officers nor courts can reasonably 

evaluate the effect of objective circumstances that, by their 

nature, are specific to children without accounting for the 

age of the child subjected to those circumstances. 

Indeed, although the dissent suggests that concerns 

“regarding the application of the Miranda custody rule to

minors can be accommodated by considering the unique 

circumstances present when minors are questioned in

school,” post, at 17 (opinion of ALITO, J.), the effect of the

schoolhouse setting cannot be disentangled from the identity of the person questioned. A student—whose presence 

at school is compulsory and whose disobedience at school

is cause for disciplinary action—is in a far different position than, say, a parent volunteer on school grounds to 

chaperone an event, or an adult from the community on 

school grounds to attend a basketball game. Without 

asking whether the person “questioned in school” is a 

“minor,” ibid., the coercive effect of the schoolhouse setting 

is unknowable. 

Our prior decision in Alvarado in no way undermines

these conclusions. In that case, we held that a state-court 

decision that failed to mention a 17-year-old’s age as part 

of the Miranda custody analysis was not objectively unreasonable under the deferential standard of review set 

forth by the Antiterrorism and Effective Death Penalty

Act of 1996 (AEDPA), 110 Stat. 1214. Like the North 

Carolina Supreme Court here, see 363 N. C., at 672, 686

S. E. 2d, at 140, we observed that accounting for a juvenile’s age in the Miranda custody analysis “could be

viewed as creating a subjective inquiry,” 541 U. S., at 668. 

We said nothing, however, of whether such a view would 

be correct under the law. Cf. Renico v. Lett, 559 U. S. ___, 

____, n. 3 (2010) (slip op., at 11, n. 3) (“[W]hether the

[state court] was right or wrong is not the pertinent question under AEDPA”). To the contrary, Justice O’Connor’s

concurring opinion explained that a suspect’s age may 
14 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

indeed “be relevant to the ‘custody’ inquiry.” Alvarado, 

541 U. S., at 669. 

Reviewing the question de novo today, we hold that so 

long as the child’s age was known to the officer at the time

of police questioning, or would have been objectively apparent to a reasonable officer, its inclusion in the custody 

analysis is consistent with the objective nature of that 

test.8 This is not to say that a child’s age will be a determinative, or even a significant, factor in every case. Cf. 

ibid. (O’Connor, J., concurring) (explaining that a statecourt decision omitting any mention of the defendant’s age

was not unreasonable under AEDPA’s deferential standard of review where the defendant “was almost 18 years

old at the time of his interview”); post, at 17 (suggesting

that “teenagers nearing the age of majority” are likely to

react to an interrogation as would a “typical 18-year-old 

in similar circumstances”). It is, however, a reality that 

courts cannot simply ignore. 

III 

The State and its amici offer numerous reasons that 

courts must blind themselves to a juvenile defendant’s 

age. None is persuasive.

To start, the State contends that a child’s age must be 

—————— 

8This approach does not undermine the basic principle that an interrogating officer’s unarticulated, internal thoughts are never—in and of

themselves—objective circumstances of an interrogation. See supra, at 

7; Stansbury v. California, 511 U. S. 318, 323 (1994) (per curiam). 

Unlike a child’s youth, an officer’s purely internal thoughts have no

conceivable effect on how a reasonable person in the suspect’s position

would understand his freedom of action. See id., at 323–325; Berkemer 

v. McCarty, 468 U. S. 420, 442 (1984). Rather than “overtur[n]” that 

settled principle, post, at 13, the limitation that a child’s age may

inform the custody analysis only when known or knowable simply 

reflects our unwillingness to require officers to “make guesses” as to

circumstances “unknowable” to them in deciding when to give Miranda 

warnings, Berkemer, 468 U. S., at 430–431. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 15 

Opinion of the Court 

excluded from the custody inquiry because age is a personal characteristic specific to the suspect himself rather

than an “external” circumstance of the interrogation.

Brief for Respondent 21; see also id., at 18–19 (distinguishing “personal characteristics” from “objective facts

related to the interrogation itself” such as the location and

duration of the interrogation). Despite the supposed

significance of this distinction, however, at oral argument 

counsel for the State suggested without hesitation that at

least some undeniably personal characteristics—for instance, whether the individual being questioned is blind—

are circumstances relevant to the custody analysis. See 

Tr. of Oral Arg. 41. Thus, the State’s quarrel cannot be 

that age is a personal characteristic, without more.9 

The State further argues that age is irrelevant to the

custody analysis because it “go[es] to how a suspect may 

internalize and perceive the circumstances of an interrogation.” Brief for Respondent 12; see also Brief for United

States as Amicus Curiae 21 (hereinafter U. S. Brief) (arguing that a child’s age has no place in the custody analysis

because it goes to whether a suspect is “particularly susceptible” to the external circumstances of the interrogation

(some internal quotation marks omitted)). But the same 

can be said of every objective circumstance that the State

agrees is relevant to the custody analysis: Each circumstance goes to how a reasonable person would “internalize

and perceive” every other. See, e.g., Stansbury, 511 U. S., 

at 325. Indeed, this is the very reason that we ask 

whether the objective circumstances “add up to custody,” 

—————— 

9The State’s purported distinction between blindness and age—that 

taking account of a suspect’s youth requires a court “to get into the

mind” of the child, whereas taking account of a suspect’s blindness does

not, Tr. of Oral Arg. 41–42—is mistaken. In either case, the question

becomes how a reasonable person would understand the circumstances,

either from the perspective of a blind person or, as here, a 13-year-old

child. 
16 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

Keohane, 516 U. S., at 113, instead of evaluating the circumstances one by one.

In the same vein, the State and its amici protest that

the “effect of . . . age on [the] perception of custody is 

internal,” Brief for Respondent 20, or “psychological,” U. S. 

Brief 21. But the whole point of the custody analysis is to 

determine whether, given the circumstances, “a reasonable person [would] have felt he or she was . . . at liberty 

to terminate the interrogation and leave.” Keohane, 516 

U. S., at 112. Because the Miranda custody inquiry turns 

on the mindset of a reasonable person in the suspect’s

position, it cannot be the case that a circumstance is subjective simply because it has an “internal” or “psychological” impact on perception. Were that so, there would be no 

objective circumstances to consider at all. 

Relying on our statements that the objective custody

test is “designed to give clear guidance to the police,” 

Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 668, the State next argues that a

child’s age must be excluded from the analysis in order to

preserve clarity. Similarly, the dissent insists that the 

clarity of the custody analysis will be destroyed unless a 

“one-size-fits-all reasonable-person test” applies. Post, at 

13. In reality, however, ignoring a juvenile defendant’s

age will often make the inquiry more artificial, see supra, 

at 12–13, and thus only add confusion. And in any event,

a child’s age, when known or apparent, is hardly an obscure factor to assess. Though the State and the dissent

worry about gradations among children of different ages, 

that concern cannot justify ignoring a child’s age altogether. Just as police officers are competent to account for 

other objective circumstances that are a matter of degree

such as the length of questioning or the number of officers

present, so too are they competent to evaluate the effect of 

relative age. Indeed, they are competent to do so even

though an interrogation room lacks the “reflective atmosphere of a [jury] deliberation room,” post, at 15. The same 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 17 

Opinion of the Court 

is true of judges, including those whose childhoods have 

long since passed, see post, at 14. In short, officers and 

judges need no imaginative powers, knowledge of developmental psychology, training in cognitive science, or 

expertise in social and cultural anthropology to account for 

a child’s age. They simply need the common sense to 

know that a 7-year-old is not a 13-year-old and neither is

an adult. 

There is, however, an even more fundamental flaw with 

the State’s plea for clarity and the dissent’s singular focus 

on simplifying the analysis: Not once have we excluded

from the custody analysis a circumstance that we determined was relevant and objective, simply to make the 

fault line between custodial and noncustodial “brighter.”

Indeed, were the guiding concern clarity and nothing else,

the custody test would presumably ask only whether the

suspect had been placed under formal arrest. Berkemer, 

468 U. S., at 441; see ibid. (acknowledging the “occasiona[l] . . . difficulty” police officers confront in determining when a suspect has been taken into custody). But 

we have rejected that “more easily administered line,” 

recognizing that it would simply “enable the police to 

circumvent the constraints on custodial interrogations

established by Miranda.” Ibid.; see also ibid., n. 33.10 

Finally, the State and the dissent suggest that excluding 

—————— 

10Contrary to the dissent’s intimation, see post, at 8, Miranda does 

not answer the question whether a child’s age is an objective circumstance relevant to the custody analysis. Miranda simply holds that

warnings must be given once a suspect is in custody, without “paus[ing]

to inquire in individual cases whether the defendant was aware of his

rights without a warning being given.” 384 U. S., at 468; see also id., at 

468–469 (“Assessments of the knowledge the defendant possessed,

based on information as to age, education, intelligence, or prior contact 

with authorities, can never be more than speculation; a warning is a

clearcut fact” (footnote omitted)). That conclusion says nothing about

whether age properly informs whether a child is in custody in the first

place. 
18 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

Opinion of the Court 

age from the custody analysis comes at no cost to juveniles’ constitutional rights because the due process voluntariness test independently accounts for a child’s youth. 

To be sure, that test permits consideration of a child’s age, 

and it erects its own barrier to admission of a defendant’s 

inculpatory statements at trial. See Gallegos, 370 U. S., at 

53–55; Haley, 332 U. S., at 599–601; see also post, at 17– 

18 (“[C]ourts should be instructed to take particular care

to ensure that [young children’s] incriminating statements

were not obtained involuntarily”). But Miranda’s procedural safeguards exist precisely because the voluntariness

test is an inadequate barrier when custodial interrogation

is at stake. See 384 U. S., at 458 (“Unless adequate protective devices are employed to dispel the compulsion

inherent in custodial surroundings, no statement obtained 

from the defendant can truly be the product of his free 

choice”); Dickerson, 530 U. S., at 442 (“[R]eliance on the 

traditional totality-of-the-circumstances test raise[s] a risk

of overlooking an involuntary custodial confession”); see

also supra, at 5–6. To hold, as the State requests, that a 

child’s age is never relevant to whether a suspect has been

taken into custody—and thus to ignore the very real differences between children and adults—would be to deny

children the full scope of the procedural safeguards that 

Miranda guarantees to adults. 

* * * 

The question remains whether J. D. B. was in custody 

when police interrogated him. We remand for the state 

courts to address that question, this time taking account 

of all of the relevant circumstances of the interrogation, 

including J. D. B.’s age at the time. The judgment of the 

North Carolina Supreme Court is reversed, and the case

is remanded for proceedings not inconsistent with this

opinion. 

It is so ordered. 
_________________ 

_________________ 

Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 1 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES 

No. 09–11121 

J. D. B., PETITIONER v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ON WRIT OF CERTIORARI TO THE SUPREME COURT OF

NORTH CAROLINA

[June 16, 2011] 

JUSTICE ALITO, with whom THE CHIEF JUSTICE, JUSTICE 

SCALIA, and JUSTICE THOMAS join, dissenting. 

The Court’s decision in this case may seem on first 

consideration to be modest and sensible, but in truth it 

is neither. It is fundamentally inconsistent with one of the

main justifications for the Miranda1 rule: the perceived

need for a clear rule that can be easily applied in all cases. 

And today’s holding is not needed to protect the constitutional rights of minors who are questioned by the police. 

Miranda’s prophylactic regime places a high value on 

clarity and certainty. Dissatisfied with the highly factspecific constitutional rule against the admission of involuntary confessions, the Miranda Court set down rigid 

standards that often require courts to ignore personal 

characteristics that may be highly relevant to a particular

suspect’s actual susceptibility to police pressure. This 

rigidity, however, has brought with it one of Miranda’s 

principal strengths—“the ease and clarity of its application” by law enforcement officials and courts. See Moran 

v. Burbine, 475 U. S. 412, 425–426 (1986). A key contributor to this clarity, at least up until now, has been 

Miranda’s objective reasonable-person test for determining custody. 

Miranda’s custody requirement is based on the proposi­

—————— 

1See Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436 (1966). 
2 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

tion that the risk of unconstitutional coercion is heightened when a suspect is placed under formal arrest or is 

subjected to some functionally equivalent limitation on

freedom of movement. When this custodial threshold is 

reached, Miranda warnings must precede police questioning. But in the interest of simplicity, the custody analysis 

considers only whether, under the circumstances, a hypothetical reasonable person would consider himself to be

confined. 

Many suspects, of course, will differ from this hypothetical reasonable person. Some, including those who have 

been hardened by past interrogations, may have no need 

for Miranda warnings at all. And for other suspects—

those who are unusually sensitive to the pressures of

police questioning—Miranda warnings may come too late 

to be of any use. That is a necessary consequence of 

Miranda’s rigid standards, but it does not mean that the

constitutional rights of these especially sensitive suspects

are left unprotected. A vulnerable defendant can still turn 

to the constitutional rule against actual coercion and 

contend that that his confession was extracted against his

will. 

Today’s decision shifts the Miranda custody determination from a one-size-fits-all reasonable-person test into an 

inquiry that must account for at least one individualized 

characteristic—age—that is thought to correlate with susceptibility to coercive pressures. Age, however, is in no

way the only personal characteristic that may correlate

with pliability, and in future cases the Court will be forced

to choose between two unpalatable alternatives. It may

choose to limit today’s decision by arbitrarily distinguishing a suspect’s age from other personal characteristics—

such as intelligence, education, occupation, or prior experience with law enforcement—that may also correlate

with susceptibility to coercive pressures. Or, if the Court 

is unwilling to draw these arbitrary lines, it will be forced 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 3 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

to effect a fundamental transformation of the Miranda 

custody test—from a clear, easily applied prophylactic

rule into a highly fact-intensive standard resembling the 

voluntariness test that the Miranda Court found to be 

unsatisfactory.

For at least three reasons, there is no need to go down

this road. First, many minors subjected to police interrogation are near the age of majority, and for these suspects 

the one-size-fits-all Miranda custody rule may not be a 

bad fit. Second, many of the difficulties in applying the 

Miranda custody rule to minors arise because of the

unique circumstances present when the police conduct

interrogations at school. The Miranda custody rule has

always taken into account the setting in which questioning occurs, and accounting for the school setting in such

cases will address many of these problems. Third, in cases 

like the one now before us, where the suspect is especially 

young, courts applying the constitutional voluntariness 

standard can take special care to ensure that incriminating statements were not obtained through coercion.

Safeguarding the constitutional rights of minors does 

not require the extreme makeover of Miranda that today’s 

decision may portend. 

I 

In the days before Miranda, this Court’s sole metric for 

evaluating the admissibility of confessions was a voluntariness standard rooted in both the Fifth Amendment’s 

Self-Incrimination Clause and the Due Process Clause of 

the Fourteenth Amendment. See Bram v. United States, 

168 U. S. 532, 542 (1897) (Self-Incrimination Clause); 

Brown v. Mississippi, 297 U. S. 278 (1936) (due process).

The question in these voluntariness cases was whether the

particular “defendant’s will” had been “overborne.” 

Lynumn v. Illinois, 372 U. S. 528, 534 (1963). Courts took 

into account both “the details of the interrogation” and 
4 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

“the characteristics of the accused,” Schneckloth v. Bustamonte, 412 U. S. 218, 226 (1973), and then “weigh[ed] . . .

the circumstances of pressure against the power of resistance of the person confessing.” Stein v. New York, 346 

U. S. 156, 185 (1953).

All manner of individualized, personal characteristics

were relevant in this voluntariness inquiry. Among the 

most frequently mentioned factors were the defendant’s 

education, physical condition, intelligence, and mental

health. Withrow v. Williams, 507 U. S. 680, 693 (1993); 

see Clewis v. Texas, 386 U. S. 707, 712 (1967) (“only a 

fifth-grade education”); Greenwald v. Wisconsin, 390 U. S. 

519, 520–521 (1968) (per curiam) (had not taken bloodpressure medication); Payne v. Arkansas, 356 U. S. 560, 

562, n. 4, 567 (1958) (“mentally dull” and “‘slow to learn’”); 

Fikes v. Alabama, 352 U. S. 191, 193, 196, 198 (1957) (“low 

mentality, if not mentally ill”). The suspect’s age also

received prominent attention in several cases, e.g., 

Gallegos v. Colorado, 370 U. S. 49, 54 (1962), especially 

when the suspect was a “mere child.” Haley v. Ohio, 332 

U. S. 596, 599 (1948) (plurality opinion). The weight

assigned to any one consideration varied from case to case.

But all of these factors, along with anything else that

might have affected the “individual’s . . . capacity for 

effective choice,” were relevant in determining whether 

the confession was coerced or compelled. See Miranda 

v. Arizona, 384 U. S. 436, 506–507 (1966) (Harlan, J., 

dissenting).

The all-encompassing nature of the voluntariness inquiry had its benefits. It allowed courts to accommodate a

“complex of values,” Schneckloth, supra, at 223, 224, and 

to make a careful, highly individualized determination as

to whether the police had wrung “a confession out of [the] 

accused against his will.” Blackburn v. Alabama, 361 U. S. 

199, 206–207 (1960). But with this flexibility came a

decrease in both certainty and predictability, and the 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 5 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

voluntariness standard proved difficult “for law enforcement officers to conform to, and for courts to apply in a

consistent manner.” Dickerson v. United States, 530 U. S. 

428, 444 (2000).

In Miranda, the Court supplemented the voluntariness

inquiry with a “set of prophylactic measures” designed to 

ward off the “‘inherently compelling pressures’ of custodial

interrogation.” See Maryland v. Shatzer, 559 U. S. __, __ 

(2010) (slip op., at 4) (quoting Miranda, 384 U. S., at 467). 

Miranda greatly simplified matters by requiring police to

give suspects standard warnings before commencing any 

custodial interrogation. See id., at 479. Its requirements

are no doubt “rigid,” see Fare v. Michael C., 439 U. S. 

1310, 1314 (1978) (Rehnquist, J., in chambers), and they

often require courts to suppress “trustworthy and highly

probative” statements that may be perfectly “voluntary 

under [a] traditional Fifth Amendment analysis.” Fare v. 

Michael C., 442 U. S. 707, 718 (1979). But with this rigidity comes increased clarity. Miranda provides “a workable rule to guide police officers,” New York v. Quarles, 467 

U. S. 649, 658 (1984) (internal quotation marks omitted), 

and an administrable standard for the courts. As has 

often been recognized, this gain in clarity and administrability is one of Miranda’s “principal advantages.” Berkemer v. McCarty, 468 U. S. 420, 430 (1984); see also Missouri v. Seibert, 542 U. S. 600, 622 (2004) (KENNEDY, J., concurring in judgment). 

No less than other facets of Miranda, the threshold 

requirement that the suspect be in “custody” is “designed

to give clear guidance to the police.” Yarborough v. Alvarado, 541 U. S. 652, 668, 669 (2004). Custody under 

Miranda attaches where there is a “formal arrest” or a 

“restraint on freedom of movement” akin to formal arrest. 

California v. Beheler, 463 U. S. 1121, 1125 (1983) (per 

curiam) (internal quotation marks omitted). This standard is “objective” and turns on how a hypothetical “rea­
6 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

sonable person in the position of the individual being 

questioned would gauge the breadth of his or her freedom

of action.” Stansbury v. California, 511 U. S. 318, 322– 

323, 325 (1994) (per curiam) (internal quotation marks 

omitted).

Until today, the Court’s cases applying this test have

focused solely on the “objective circumstances of the interrogation,” id., at 323, not the personal characteristics of 

the interrogated. E.g., Berkemer, supra, at 442, and n. 35; 

but cf. Schneckloth, 412 U. S., at 226 (voluntariness inquiry requires consideration of “the details of the interrogation” and “the characteristics of the accused”). Relevant 

factors have included such things as where the questioning occurred,2 how long it lasted,3 what was said,4 

any physical restraints placed on the suspect’s movement,5 

and whether the suspect was allowed to leave when 

the questioning was through.6 The totality of these 

circumstances—the external circumstances, that is, of the 

interrogation itself—is what has mattered in this Court’s 

cases. Personal characteristics of suspects have consistently been rejected or ignored as irrelevant under a onesize-fits-all reasonable-person standard. Stansbury, supra,

at 323 (“[C]ustody depends on the objective circumstances

of the interrogation, not on the subjective views harbored 

by either the interrogating officers or the person being

questioned”). 

For example, in Berkemer v. McCarty, supra, police

officers conducting a traffic stop questioned a man who 

had been drinking and smoking marijuana before he was

pulled over. Id., at 423. Although the suspect’s inebria­

—————— 

2 Maryland v. Shatzer, 559 U. S. ___, ___ (2010) (slip op., at 13–16). 3 Berkemer v. McCarty, 468 U. S. 420, 437–438 (1984). 4 Oregon v. Mathiason, 429 U. S. 492, 495 (1977) (per curiam). 5 New York v. Quarles, 467 U. S. 649, 655 (1984). 6 California v. Beheler, 463 U. S. 1121, 1122–1123 (1983) (per curiam). 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 7 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

tion was readily apparent to the officers at the scene, ibid., 

the Court’s analysis did not advert to this or any other

individualized consideration. Instead, the Court focused 

only on the external circumstances of the interrogation

itself. The opinion concluded that a typical “traffic stop” is

akin to a “Terry stop”7 and does not qualify as the equivalent of “formal arrest.” Id., at 439. 

California v. Beheler, supra, is another useful example. 

There, the circumstances of the interrogation were “remarkably similar” to the facts of the Court’s earlier decision in Oregon v. Mathiason, 429 U. S. 492 (1977) (per 

curiam)—the suspect was “not placed under arrest,” he

“voluntarily [came] to the police station,” and he was 

“allowed to leave unhindered by police after a brief interview.” 463 U. S., at 1123, 1121. A California court in 

Beheler had nonetheless distinguished Mathiason because 

the police knew that Beheler “had been drinking earlier in 

the day” and was “emotionally distraught.” 463 U. S., at 

1124–1125. In a summary reversal, this Court explained 

that the fact “[t]hat the police knew more” personal information about Beheler than they did about Mathiason was 

“irrelevant.” Id., at 1125. Neither one of them was in 

custody under the objective reasonable-person standard. 

Ibid.; see also Alvarado, supra, at 668, 669 (experience 

with law enforcement irrelevant to Miranda custody 

analysis “as a de novo matter”).8 

The glaring absence of reliance on personal characteris­

—————— 

7See Terry v. Ohio, 392 U. S. 1 (1968). 8The Court claims that “[n]ot once” have any of our cases “excluded 

from the custody analysis a circumstance that we determined was 

relevant and objective, simply to make the fault line between custodial 

and noncustodial ‘brighter.’ ” Ante, at 17. Surely this is incorrect. The 

very act of adopting a reasonable-person test necessarily excludes all 

sorts of “relevant and objective” circumstances—for example, all the

objective circumstances of a suspect’s life history—that might otherwise 

bear on a custody determination. 
8 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

tics in these and other custody cases should come as no

surprise. To account for such individualized considerations would be to contradict Miranda’s central premise.

The Miranda Court’s decision to adopt its inflexible prophylactic requirements was expressly based on the notion

that “[a]ssessments of the knowledge the defendant possessed, based on information as to his age, education,

intelligence, or prior contact with authorities, can never be 

more than speculation.” 384 U. S., at 468–469. 

II 

In light of this established practice, there is no denying 

that, by incorporating age into its analysis, the Court is 

embarking on a new expansion of the established custody 

standard. And since Miranda is this Court’s rule, “not a 

constitutional command,” it is up to the Court “to justify

its expansion.” Cf. Arizona v. Roberson, 486 U. S. 675, 688 

(1988) (KENNEDY, J., dissenting). This the Court fails to 

do. 

In its present form, Miranda’s prophylactic regime

already imposes “high cost[s]” by requiring suppression of 

confessions that are often “highly probative” and “voluntary” by any traditional standard. Oregon v. Elstad, 470 

U. S. 298, 312 (1985); see Dickerson, 530 U. S., at 444 

(under Miranda “statements which may be by no means

involuntary, made by a defendant who is aware of his 

‘rights,’ may nonetheless be excluded and a guilty defendant go free as a result”). Nonetheless, a “core virtue” of 

Miranda has been the clarity and precision of its guidance 

to “police and courts.” Withrow v. Williams, 507 U. S. 680, 

694 (1993) (internal quotation marks omitted); see Moran, 

475 U. S., at 425 (“[O]ne of the principal advantages of 

Miranda is the ease and clarity of its application” (internal quotation marks omitted)). This increased clarity “has

been thought to outweigh the burdens” that Miranda 

imposes. Fare, 442 U. S., at 718. The Court has, however, 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 9 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

repeatedly cautioned against upsetting the careful “balance” that Miranda struck, Moran, supra, at 424, and it 

has “refused to sanction attempts to expand [the] Miranda 

holding” in ways that would reduce its “clarity.” See 

Quarles, 467 U. S., at 658 (citing cases). Given this practice, there should be a “strong presumption” against the 

Court’s new departure from the established custody test. 

See United States v. Patane, 542 U. S. 630, 640 (2004) 

(plurality opinion). In my judgment, that presumption 

cannot be overcome here. 

A 

The Court’s rationale for importing age into the custody

standard is that minors tend to lack adults’ “capacity to

exercise mature judgment” and that failing to account for 

that “reality” will leave some minors unprotected under 

Miranda in situations where they perceive themselves to

be confined. See ante, at 10, 8. I do not dispute that many

suspects who are under 18 will be more susceptible to 

police pressure than the average adult. As the Court 

notes, our pre-Miranda cases were particularly attuned to

this “reality” in applying the constitutional requirement of 

voluntariness in fact. Ante, at 9 (relying on Haley, 332 

U. S., at 599 (plurality opinion), and Gallegos, 370 U. S., 

at 54). It is no less a “reality,” however, that many persons over the age of 18 are also more susceptible to police

pressure than the hypothetical reasonable person. See 

Payne, 356 U. S., at 567 (fact that defendant was a “mentally dull 19-year-old youth” relevant in voluntariness

inquiry). Yet the Miranda custody standard has never 

accounted for the personal characteristics of these or any

other individual defendants. 

Indeed, it has always been the case under Miranda that 

the unusually meek or compliant are subject to the same 

fixed rules, including the same custody requirement, as

those who are unusually resistant to police pressure. 
10 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

Berkemer, 468 U. S., at 442, and n. 35 (“[O]nly relevant 

inquiry is how a reasonable man in the suspect’s position

would have understood his situation”). Miranda’s rigid 

standards are both overinclusive and underinclusive. 

They are overinclusive to the extent that they provide a 

windfall to the most hardened and savvy of suspects, who

often have no need for Miranda’s protections. Compare 

Miranda, supra, at 471–472 (“[N]o amount of circumstantial evidence that the person may have been aware of” his

rights can overcome Miranda’s requirements), with Orozco 

v. Texas, 394 U. S. 324, 329 (1969) (White, J., dissenting) 

(“Where the defendant himself [w]as a lawyer, policeman, 

professional criminal, or otherwise has become aware of 

what his right to silence is, it is sheer fancy to assert that 

his answer to every question asked him is compelled 

unless he is advised of those rights with which he is already intimately familiar”). And Miranda’s requirements

are underinclusive to the extent that they fail to account

for “frailties,” “idiosyncrasies,” and other individualized

considerations that might cause a person to bend more

easily during a confrontation with the police. See Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 662 (internal quotation marks omitted).

Members of this Court have seen this rigidity as a major

weakness in Miranda’s “code of rules for confessions.” See 

384 U. S., at 504 (Harlan, J., dissenting); Fare, 439 U. S., 

at 1314 (Rehnquist, J., in chambers) (“[T]he rigidity of

[Miranda’s] prophylactic rules was a principal weakness

in the view of dissenters and critics outside the Court”).

But if it is, then the weakness is an inescapable consequence of the Miranda Court’s decision to supplement the 

more holistic voluntariness requirement with a one-sizefits-all prophylactic rule. 

That is undoubtedly why this Court’s Miranda cases 

have never before mentioned “the suspect’s age” or any 

other individualized consideration in applying the custody 

standard. See Alvarado, supra, at 666. And unless the 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 11 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

Miranda custody rule is now to be radically transformed 

into one that takes into account the wide range of individual characteristics that are relevant in determining 

whether a confession is voluntary, the Court must shoulder the burden of explaining why age is different from 

these other personal characteristics.

Why, for example, is age different from intelligence? 

Suppose that an officer, upon going to a school to question 

a student, is told by the principal that the student has an 

I. Q. of 75 and is in a special-education class. Cf. In re 

J. D. B., 363 N. C. 664, 666, 686 S. E. 2d 135, 136–137 

(2009). Are those facts more or less important than the 

student’s age in determining whether he or she “felt . . . at 

liberty to terminate the interrogation and leave”? See 

Thompson v. Keohane, 516 U. S. 99, 112 (1995). An I. Q. 

score, like age, is more than just a number. Ante, at 8 

(“[A]ge is far ‘more than a chronological fact’”). And an 

individual’s intelligence can also yield “conclusions” similar to those “we have drawn ourselves” in cases far afield 

of Miranda. Ante, at 12. Compare ibid. (relying on Eddings v. Oklahoma, 455 U. S. 104 (1982), and Roper v. 

Simmons, 543 U. S. 551 (2005)), with Smith v. Texas, 543 

U. S. 37, 44–45 (2004) (per curiam). 

How about the suspect’s cultural background? Suppose

the police learn (or should have learned, see ante, at 11) 

that a suspect they wish to question is a recent immigrant 

from a country in which dire consequences often befall any 

person who dares to attempt to cut short any meeting with

the police.9 Is this really less relevant than the fact that a

suspect is a month or so away from his 18th birthday? 

The defendant’s education is another personal charac­

—————— 

9Cf. United States v. Chalan, 812 F. 2d 1302, 1307 (CA10 1987) (rejecting claim that Native American suspect was “in custody” for 

Miranda purposes because, by custom, obedience to tribal authorities

was “expected of all tribal members”). 
12 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

teristic that may generate “conclusions about behavior and 

perception.” Ante, at 9 (internal quotation marks omitted). Under today’s decision, why should police officers

and courts “blind themselves,” ante, at 1, to the fact that a 

suspect has “only a fifth-grade education”? See Clewis, 

386 U. S., at 712 (voluntariness case). Alternatively, what 

if the police know or should know that the suspect is “a

college-educated man with law school training”? See 

Crooker v. California, 357 U. S. 433, 440 (1958), overruled 

by Miranda, supra, at 479, and n. 48. How are these 

individual considerations meaningfully different from age

in their “relationship to a reasonable person’s understanding of his freedom of action”? Ante, at 11. The Court 

proclaims that “[a] child’s age . . . is different,” ante, at 12, 

but the basis for this ipse dixit is dubious. 

I have little doubt that today’s decision will soon be cited 

by defendants—and perhaps by prosecutors as well—for 

the proposition that all manner of other individual characteristics should be treated like age and taken into account 

in the Miranda custody calculus. Indeed, there are already lower court decisions that take this approach. See 

United States v. Beraun-Panez, 812 F. 2d 578, 581, modified 830 F. 2d 127 (CA9 1987) (“reasonable person who 

was an alien”); In re Jorge D., 202 Ariz. 277, 280, 43 

P. 3d 605, 608 (App. 2002) (age, maturity, and experience); 

State v. Doe, 130 Idaho 811, 818, 948 P. 2d 166, 173 

(1997) (same); In re Joshua David C., 116 Md. App. 580,

594, 698 A. 2d 1155, 1162 (1997) (“education, age, and 

intelligence”).

In time, the Court will have to confront these issues, 

and it will be faced with a difficult choice. It may choose 

to distinguish today’s decision and adhere to the arbitrary 

proclamation that “age . . . is different.” Ante, at 12. Or it 

may choose to extend today’s holding and, in doing so, 

further undermine the very rationale for the Miranda 

regime. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 13 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

B 

If the Court chooses the latter course, then a core virtue 

of Miranda—the “ease and clarity of its application”—will 

be lost. Moran, 475 U. S., at 425; see Fare, 442 U. S., at 

718 (noting that the clarity of Miranda’s requirements

“has been thought to outweigh the burdens that the decision . . . imposes”). However, even today’s more limited 

departure from Miranda’s one-size-fits-all reasonableperson test will produce the very consequences that

prompted the Miranda Court to abandon exclusive reliance on the voluntariness test in the first place: The

Court’s test will be hard for the police to follow, and it will 

be hard for judges to apply. See Dickerson v. United 

States, 530 U. S. 428, 444 (2000). 

The Court holds that age must be taken into account

when it “was known to the officer at the time of the interview,” or when it “would have been objectively apparent”

to a reasonable officer. Ante, at 11. The first half of this 

test overturns the rule that the “initial determination of 

custody” does not depend on the “subjective views harbored by . . . interrogating officers.” Stansbury, 511 U. S., 

at 323. The second half will generate time-consuming 

satellite litigation over a reasonable officer’s perceptions. 

When, as here, the interrogation takes place in school, the 

inquiry may be relatively simple. But not all police questioning of minors takes place in schools. In many cases, 

courts will presumably have to make findings as to 

whether a particular suspect had a sufficiently youthful 

look to alert a reasonable officer to the possibility that the 

suspect was under 18, or whether a reasonable officer 

would have recognized that a suspect’s I. D. was a fake. 

The inquiry will be both “time-consuming and disruptive” 

for the police and the courts. See Berkemer, 468 U. S., at 

432 (refusing to modify the custody test based on similar 

considerations). It will also be made all the more complicated by the fact that a suspect’s dress and manner will 
14 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

often be different when the issue is litigated in court than

it was at the time of the interrogation. 

Even after courts clear this initial hurdle, further problems will likely emerge as judges attempt to put themselves in the shoes of the average 16-year-old, or 15-yearold, or 13-year-old, as the case may be. Consider, for 

example, a 60-year-old judge attempting to make a custody determination through the eyes of a hypothetical,

average 15-year-old. Forty-five years of personal experience and societal change separate this judge from the days

when he or she was 15 years old. And this judge may or

may not have been an average 15-year-old. The Court’s 

answer to these difficulties is to state that “no imaginative

powers, knowledge of developmental psychology, [or] 

training in cognitive science” will be necessary. Ante, at 

17. Judges “simply need the common sense,” the Court

assures, “to know that a 7-year-old is not a 13-year-old

and neither is an adult.” Ante, at 17. It is obvious, however, that application of the Court’s new rule demands

much more than this. 

Take a fairly typical case in which today’s holding may 

make a difference. A 161⁄2-year-old moves to suppress

incriminating statements made prior to the administration of Miranda warnings. The circumstances are such 

that, if the defendant were at least 18, the court would not 

find that he or she was in custody, but the defendant 

argues that a reasonable 161⁄2-year-old would view the 

situation differently. The judge will not have the luxury of 

merely saying: “It is common sense that a 161⁄2-year-old is 

not an 18-year-old. Motion granted.” Rather, the judge

will be required to determine whether the differences

between a typical 161⁄2-year-old and a typical 18-year-old 

with respect to susceptibility to the pressures of interrogation are sufficient to change the outcome of the custody 

determination. Today’s opinion contains not a word of 

actual guidance as to how judges are supposed to go about 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 15 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

making that determination. 

C 

Petitioner and the Court attempt to show that this task

is not unmanageable by pointing out that age is taken into 

account in other legal contexts. In particular, the Court

relies on the fact that the age of a defendant is a relevant 

factor under the reasonable-person standard applicable in

negligence suits. Ante, at 11 (citing Restatement (Third)

of Torts §10, Comment b, p. 117 (2005)). But negligence is

generally a question for the jury, the members of which 

can draw on their varied experiences with persons of

different ages. It also involves a post hoc determination, 

in the reflective atmosphere of a deliberation room, about

whether the defendant conformed to a standard of care. 

The Miranda custody determination, by contrast, must be 

made in the first instance by police officers in the course of 

an investigation that may require quick decisionmaking.

See Quarles, 467 U. S., at 658 (noting “the importance” 

under Miranda of providing “a workable rule ‘to guide

police officers, who have only limited time and expertise to 

reflect on and balance the social and individual interests 

involved in the specific circumstances they confront’”); 

Alvarado, 541 U. S., at 668, 669 (“[T]he custody inquiry 

states an objective rule designed to give clear guidance to 

the police”).

Equally inapposite are the Eighth Amendment cases the 

Court cites in support of its new rule. Ante, at 9, 11, 12 

(citing Eddings, 455 U. S. 104, Roper, 543 U. S. 551, and 

Graham v. Florida, 560 U. S. ___ (2010)). Those decisions 

involve the “judicial exercise of independent judgment”

about the constitutionality of certain punishments. E.g., 

id., at ___ (slip op., at 16). Like the negligence standard, 

they do not require on-the-spot judgments by the police.

Nor do state laws affording extra protection for juveniles 

during custodial interrogation provide any support for 
16 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

petitioner’s arguments. See Brief for Petitioner 16–17. 

States are free to enact additional restrictions on the 

police over and above those demanded by the Constitution 

or Miranda. In addition, these state statutes generally

create clear, workable rules to guide police conduct. See 

Brief for Petitioner 16–17 (citing statutes that require or 

permit parents to be present during custodial interrogation of a minor, that require minors to be advised of a

statutory right to communicate with a parent or guardian, 

and that require parental consent to custodial interrogation). Today’s decision, by contrast, injects a new, complicating factor into what had been a clear, easily applied

prophylactic rule. See Alvarado, supra, at 668–669.10 

III 

The Court’s decision greatly diminishes the clarity and

administrability that have long been recognized as “principal advantages” of Miranda’s prophylactic requirements. 

See, e.g., Moran, 475 U. S., at 425. But what is worse, the 

Court takes this step unnecessarily, as there are other, 

less disruptive tools available to ensure that minors are

not coerced into confessing.

As an initial matter, the difficulties that the Court’s 

standard introduces will likely yield little added protection 

—————— 

10The Court also relies on North Carolina’s concession at oral argument that a court could take into account a suspect’s blindness as a

factor relevant to the Miranda custody determination. Ante, at 15, and 

n. 9. This is a far-fetched hypothetical, and neither the parties nor 

their amici cite any case in which such a problem has actually arisen. 

Presumably such a case would involve a situation in which a blind 

defendant was given “a typed document advising him that he [was] free 

to leave.” See Brief for Juvenile Law Center as Amicus Curiae 23. In 

such a case, furnishing this advice in a form calculated to be unintelligible to the suspect would be tantamount to failing to provide the 

advice at all. And advice by the police that a suspect is or is not free to

leave at will has always been regarded as a circumstance regarding the

conditions of the interrogation that must be taken into account in 

making the Miranda custody determination. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 17 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

for most juvenile defendants. Most juveniles who are

subjected to police interrogation are teenagers nearing the

age of majority.11 These defendants’ reactions to police

pressure are unlikely to be much different from the reaction of a typical 18-year-old in similar circumstances. A 

one-size-fits-all Miranda custody rule thus provides a

roughly reasonable fit for these defendants. 

In addition, many of the concerns that petitioner raises 

regarding the application of the Miranda custody rule to

minors can be accommodated by considering the unique 

circumstances present when minors are questioned in

school. See Brief for Petitioner 10–11 (reciting at length

the factors petitioner believes to be relevant to the custody

determination here, including the fact that petitioner was 

removed from class by a police officer, that the interview 

took place in a school conference room, and that a uniformed officer and a vice principal were present). The 

Miranda custody rule has always taken into account the 

setting in which questioning occurs, restrictions on a 

suspect’s freedom of movement, and the presence of police

officers or other authority figures. See Alvarado, supra, at 

665; Maryland v. Shatzer, 559 U. S. ___, ___ (2010) (slip 

op., at 14). It can do so here as well.12 

Finally, in cases like the one now before us, where the

suspect is much younger than the typical juvenile defendant, courts should be instructed to take particular care to 

—————— 

11See Dept of Justice, Federal Bureau of Investigation, 2008 

Crime in the United States (Sept. 2009), online at http://www2.fbi.gov/ 

ucr/cius2008/data/table_38.html (all Internet materials as visited June

8, 2011, and available in Clerk of Court’s case file) (indicating that less

than 30% of juvenile arrests in the United States are of suspects who 

are under 15). 12The Court thinks it would be “absur[d]” to consider the school setting without accounting for age, ante, at 12, but the real absurdity is for 

the Court to require police officers to get inside the head of a reasonable

minor while making the quick, on-the-spot determinations that 

Miranda demands. 
18 J. D. B. v. NORTH CAROLINA 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

ensure that incriminating statements were not obtained 

involuntarily. The voluntariness inquiry is flexible and 

accommodating by nature, see Schneckloth, 412 U. S., at 

224, and the Court’s precedents already make clear that

“special care” must be exercised in applying the voluntariness test where the confession of a “mere child” is at issue. 

Haley, 332 U. S., at 599 (plurality opinion). If Miranda’s 

rigid, one-size-fits-all standards fail to account for the 

unique needs of juveniles, the response should be to rigorously apply the constitutional rule against coercion to

ensure that the rights of minors are protected. There is no 

need to run Miranda off the rails. 

* * * 

The Court rests its decision to inject personal characteristics into the Miranda custody inquiry on the principle

that judges applying Miranda cannot “blind themselves to 

. . . commonsense reality.” Ante, at 1, 8, 10–11, 14. But 

the Court’s shift is fundamentally at odds with the clear 

prophylactic rules that Miranda has long enforced. 

Miranda frequently requires judges to blind themselves to

the reality that many un-Mirandized custodial confessions

are “by no means involuntary” or coerced. Dickerson, 530 

U. S., at 444. It also requires police to provide a rote 

recitation of Miranda warnings that many suspects already know and could likely recite from memory.13 Under 

today’s new, “reality”-based approach to the doctrine, 

perhaps these and other principles of our Miranda jurisprudence will, like the custody standard, now be ripe for 

—————— 

13Surveys have shown that “[l]arge majorities” of the public are aware

that “individuals arrested for a crime” have a right to “remai[n] silent

(81%),” a right to “a lawyer (95%),” and a right to have a lawyer “appointed” if the arrestee “cannot afford one (88%).” See Belden, Russonello 

& Stewart, Developing a National Message for Indigent Defense: Analysis of National Survey 4 (Oct. 2001), online at http://www.nlada.org/ 

DMS/Documents/1211996548.53/Polling%20results%20report.pdf. 
Cite as: 564 U. S. ____ (2011) 19 

ALITO, J., dissenting 

modification. Then, bit by bit, Miranda will lose the clarity and ease of application that has long been viewed as

one of its chief justifications. 

I respectfully dissent.