with whom Justice Brennan, Justice Marshall, and Justice Stevens join, dissenting.
This case is no more about “a fundamental right to engage in homosexual sodomy,” as the Court purports to declare, ante, at 191, than Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969), was about a fundamental right to watch obscene movies, or Katz v. United States, 389 U. S. 347 (1967), was about a fundamental right to place interstate bets from a telephone booth. Rather, this case is about “the most comprehensive of rights and the right most valued by civilized men,” namely, “the right to be let alone.” Olmstead v. United States, 277 U. S. 438, 478 (1928) (Brandeis, J., dissenting).
The statute at issue, Ga. Code Ann. § 16-6-2 (1984), denies individuals the right to decide for themselves whether to engage in particular forms of private, consensual sexual activity. The Court concludes that § 16-6-2 is valid essentially because “the laws of . . . many States . . . still make such conduct illegal and have done so for a very long time.” Ante, at 190. But the fact that the moral judgments expressed by statutes like §16-6-2 may be “‘natural and familiar . . . ought not to conclude our judgment upon the question whether statutes embodying them conflict with the Constitution of the United States.’” Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113, 117 (1973), quoting Lochner v. New York, 198 U. S. 45, 76 (1905) (Holmes, J., dissenting). Like Justice Holmes, I believe that “[i]t is revolting to have no better reason for a rule of law than that so it was laid down in the time of Henry IV. It is still more revolting if the grounds upon which it was laid down have vanished long since, and the rule simply persists from blind imitation of the past.” Holmes, The Path of the Law, 10 Harv. L. Rev. 457, 469 (1897). I believe we must analyze respondent Hardwick’s claim in the light of the values that underlie the constitutional right to privacy. If that right means anything, it means that, before Georgia can prosecute its citizens for making choices about the most inti*200mate aspects of their lives, it must do more than assert that the choice they have made is an “ ‘abominable crime not fit to be named among Christians.’” Herring v. State, 119 Ga. 709, 721, 46 S. E. 876, 882 (1904).
h-t
In its haste to reverse the Court of Appeals and hold that the Constitution does not “confe[r] a fundamental right upon homosexuals to engage in sodomy,” ante, at 190, the Court relegates the actual statute being challenged to a footnote and ignores the procedural posture of the case before it. A fair reading of the statute and of the complaint clearly reveals that the majority has distorted the question this case presents.
First, the Court’s almost obsessive focus on homosexual activity is particularly hard to justify in light of the broad language Georgia has used. Unlike the Court, the Georgia Legislature has not proceeded on the assumption that homosexuals are so different from other citizens that their lives may be controlled in a way that would not be tolerated if it limited the choices of those other citizens. Cf. ante, at 188, n. 2. Rather, Georgia has provided that "[a] person commits the offense of sodomy when he performs or submits to any sexual act involving the sex organs of one person and the mouth or anus of another.” Ga. Code Ann. §16-6-2(a) (1984). The sex or status of the persons who engage in the act is irrelevant as a matter of state law. In fact, to the extent I can discern a legislative purpose for Georgia’s 1968 enactment of §16-6-2, that purpose seems to have been to broaden the coverage of the law to reach heterosexual as well as homosexual activity.1 I therefore see no basis for the *201Court’s decision to treat this case as an “as applied” challenge to § 16-6-2, see ante, at 188, n. 2, or for Georgia’s attempt, both in its brief and at oral argument, to defend § 16-6-2 solely on the grounds that it prohibits homosexual activity. Michael Hardwick’s standing may rest in significant part on Georgia’s apparent willingness to enforce against homosexuals a law it seems not to have any desire to enforce against heterosexuals. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 4-5; cf. 760 F. 2d 1202, 1205-1206 (CA111985). But his claim that § 16-6-2 involves an unconstitutional intrusion into his privacy and his right of intimate association does not depend in any way on his sexual orientation.
Second, I disagree with the Court’s refusal to consider whether § 16-6-2 runs afoul of the Eighth or Ninth Amendments or the Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. Ante, at 196, n. 8. Respondent’s complaint expressly invoked the Ninth Amendment, see App. 6, and he relied heavily before this Court on Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479, 484 (1965), which identifies that Amendment as one of the specific constitutional provisions giving “life and substance” to our understanding of privacy. See Brief for Respondent Hardwick 10-12; Tr. of Oral Arg. 33. More importantly, the procedural posture of the case requires that we affirm the Court of Appeals’ judgment if there is any ground on which respondent may be entitled to relief. This case is before us on petitioner’s motion to dismiss for failure to state a claim, Fed. Rule Civ. Proc. 12(b)(6). See App. 17. It is a well-settled principle of law that “a complaint should not be dismissed merely because a plaintiff’s allegations do not support the particular legal theory he advances, for the court is under a duty to examine the complaint to determine if the allegations provide for relief on any possible theory.” *202Bramlet v. Wilson, 495 F. 2d 714, 716 (CA8 1974); see Parr v. Great Lakes Express Co., 484 F. 2d 767, 773 (CA7 1973); Due v. Tallahassee Theatres, Inc., 333 F. 2d 630, 631 (CA5 1964); United States v. Howell, 318 F. 2d 162, 166 (CA9 1963); 5 C. Wright & A. Miller, Federal Practice and Procedure § 1357, pp. 601-602 (1969); see also Conley v. Gibson, 355 U. S. 41, 45-46 (1957). Thus, even if respondent did not advance claims based on the Eighth or Ninth Amendments, or on the Equal Protection Clause, his complaint should not be dismissed if any of those provisions could entitle him to relief. I need not reach either the Eighth Amendment or the Equal Protection Clause issues because I believe that Hardwick has stated a cognizable claim that § 16-6-2 interferes with constitutionally protected interests in privacy and freedom of intimate association. But neither the Eighth Amendment nor the Equal Protection Clause is so clearly irrelevant that a claim resting on either provision should be peremptorily dismissed.2 The Court’s cramped reading of the *203issue before it makes for a short opinion, but it does little to make for a persuasive one.
II
“Our cases long have recognized that the Constitution embodies a promise that a certain private sphere of individual liberty will be kept largely beyond the reach of government.” Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians & Gynecologists, 476 U. S. 747, 772 (1986). In construing the right to privacy, the Court has proceeded along two somewhat dis*204tinct, albeit complementary, lines. First, it has recognized a privacy interest with reference to certain decisions that are properly for the individual to make. E. g., Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973); Pierce v. Society of Sisters, 268 U. S. 510 (1925). Second, it has recognized a privacy interest with reference to certain places without regard for the particular activities in which the individuals who occupy them are engaged. E. g., United States v. Karo, 468 U. S. 705 (1984); Payton v. New York, 445 U. S. 573 (1980); Rios v. United States, 364 U. S. 253 (1960). The case before us implicates both the decisional and the spatial aspects of the right to privacy.
A
The Court concludes today that none of our prior cases dealing with various decisions that individuals are entitled to make free of governmental interference “bears any resemblance to the claimed constitutional right of homosexuals to engage in acts of sodomy that is asserted in this case.” Ante, at 190-191. While it is true that these cases may be characterized by their connection to protection of the family, see Roberts v. United States Jaycees, 468 U. S. 609, 619 (1984), the Court’s conclusion that they extend no further than this boundary ignores the warning in Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S. 494, 501 (1977) (plurality opinion), against “clos[ing] our eyes to the basic reasons why certain rights associated with the family have been accorded shelter under the Fourteenth Amendment’s Due Process Clause.” We protect those rights not because they contribute, in some direct and material way, to the general public welfare, but because they form so central a part of an individual’s life. “[T]he concept of privacy embodies the ‘moral fact that a person belongs to himself and not others nor to society as a whole.’ ” Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians & Gynecologists, 476 U. S., at 777, n. 5 (Stevens, J., concurring), quoting Fried, Correspondence, 6 Phil. & Pub. Affairs 288-289 (1977). And so we protect the decision whether to *205marry precisely because marriage “is an association that promotes a way of life, not causes; a harmony in living, not political faiths; a bilateral loyalty, not commercial or social projects.” Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S., at 486. We protect the decision whether to have a child because parenthood alters so dramatically an individual’s self-definition, not because of demographic considerations or the Bible’s command to be fruitful and multiply. Cf. Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians & Gynecologists, supra, at 777, n. 6 (Stevens, J., concurring). And we protect the family because it contributes so powerfully to the happiness of individuals, not because of a preference for stereotypical households. Cf. Moore v. East Cleveland, 431 U. S., at 500-506 (plurality opinion). The Court recognized in Roberts, 468 U. S., at 619, that the “ability independently to define one’s identity that is central to any concept of liberty” cannot truly be exercised in a vacuum; we all depend on the “emotional enrichment from close ties with others.” Ibid.
Only the most willful blindness could obscure the fact that sexual intimacy is “a sensitive, key relationship of human existence, central to family life, community welfare, and the development of human personality,” Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49, 63 (1973); see also Carey v. Population Services International, 431 U. S. 678, 685 (1977). The fact that individuals define themselves in a significant way through their intimate sexual relationships with others suggests, in a Nation as diverse as ours, that there may be many “right” ways of conducting those relationships, and that much of the richness of a relationship will come from the freedom an individual has to choose the form and nature of these intensely personal bonds. See Karst, The Freedom of Intimate Association, 89 Yale L. J. 624, 637 (1980); cf. Eisenstadt v. Baird, 405 U. S. 438, 453 (1972); Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S., at 153.
In a variety of circumstances we have recognized that a necessary corollary of giving individuals freedom to choose *206how to conduct their lives is acceptance of the fact that different individuals will make different choices. For example, in holding that the clearly important state interest in public education should give way to a competing claim by the Amish to the effect that extended formal schooling threatened their way of life, the Court declared: “There can be no assumption that today’s majority is ‘right’ and the Amish and others like them are ‘wrong.’ A way of life that is odd or even erratic but interferes with no rights or interests of others is not to be condemned because it is different.” Wisconsin v. Yoder, 406 U. S. 205, 223-224 (1972). The Court claims that its decision today merely refuses to recognize a fundamental right to engage in homosexual sodomy; what the Court really has refused to recognize is the fundamental interest all individuals have in controlling the nature of their intimate associations with others.
B
The behavior for which Hardwick faces prosecution occurred in his own home, a place to which the Fourth Amendment attaches special significance. The Court’s treatment of this aspect of the case is symptomatic of its overall refusal to consider the broad principles that have informed our treatment of privacy in specific cases. Just as the right to privacy is more than the mere aggregation of a number of entitlements to engage in specific behavior, so too, protecting the physical integrity of the home is more than merely a means of protecting specific activities that often take place there. Even when our understanding of the contours of the right to privacy depends on “reference to a ‘place,’” Katz v. United States, 389 U. S., at 361 (Harlan, J., concurring), “the essence of a Fourth Amendment violation is ‘not the breaking of [a person’s] doors, and the rummaging of his drawers,’ but rather is ‘the invasion of his indefeasible right of personal security, personal liberty and private property.’” California v. Ciraolo, 476 U. S. 207, 226 (1986) (Powell, J., dis*207senting), quoting Boyd v. United States, 116 U. S. 616, 630 (1886).
The Court’s interpretation of the pivotal ease of Stanley v. Georgia, 394 U. S. 557 (1969), is entirely unconvincing. Stanley held that Georgia’s undoubted power to punish the public distribution of constitutionally unprotected, obscene material did not permit the State to punish the private possession of such material. According to the majority here, Stanley relied entirely on the First Amendment, and thus, it is claimed, sheds no light on cases not involving printed materials. Ante, at 195. But that is not what Stanley said. Rather, the Stanley Court anchored its holding in the Fourth Amendment’s special protection for the individual in his home:
“‘The makers of our Constitution undertook to secure conditions favorable to the pursuit of happiness. They recognized the significance of man’s spiritual nature, of his feelings and of his intellect. They knew that only a part of the pain, pleasure and satisfactions of life are to be found in material things. They sought to protect Americans in their beliefs, their thoughts, their emotions and their sensations.’
“These are the rights that appellant is asserting in the case before us. He is asserting the right to read or observe what he pleases — the right to satisfy his intellectual and emotional needs in the privacy of his own home.” 394 U. S., at 564-565, quoting Olmstead v. United States, 277 U. S., at 478 (Brandeis, J., dissenting).
The central place that Stanley gives Justice Brandéis’ dissent in Olmstead, a case raising no First Amendment claim, shows that Stanley rested as much on the Court’s understanding of the Fourth Amendment as it did on the First. Indeed, in Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S. 49 (1973), the Court suggested that reliance on the Fourth *208Amendment not only supported the Court’s outcome in Stanley but actually was necessary to it: “If obscene material unprotected by the First Amendment in itself carried with it a ‘penumbra’ of constitutionally protected privacy, this Court would not have found it necessary to decide Stanley on the narrow basis of the ‘privacy of the home,’ which was hardly more than a reaffirmation that ‘a man’s home is his castle.’” 413 U. S., at 66. “The right of the people to be secure in their . . . houses,” expressly guaranteed by the Fourth Amendment, is perhaps the most “textual” of the various constitutional provisions that inform our understanding of the right to privacy, and thus I cannot agree with the Court’s statement that “[tjhe right pressed upon us here has no . . . support in the text of the Constitution,” ante, at 195. Indeed, the right of an individual to conduct intimate relationships in the intimacy of his or her own home seems to me to be the heart of the Constitution’s protection of privacy.
HH HH HH
The Court s failure to comprehend the magnitude of the liberty interests at stake in this case leads it to slight the question whether petitioner, on behalf of the State, has justified Georgia’s infringement on these interests. I believe that neither of the two general justifications for § 16-6-2 that petitioner has advanced warrants dismissing respondent’s challenge for failure to state a claim.
First, petitioner asserts that the acts made criminal by the statute may have serious adverse consequences for “the general public health and welfare,” such as spreading communicable diseases or fostering other criminal activity. Brief for Petitioner 37. Inasmuch as this case was dismissed by the District Court on the pleadings, it is not surprising that the record before us is barren of any evidence to support petitioner’s claim.3 In light of the state of the record, I see *209no justification for the Court’s attempt to equate the private, consensual sexual activity at issue here with the “possession in the home of drugs, firearms, or stolen goods,” ante, at 195, to which Stanley refused to extend its protection. 394 U. S., at 568, n. 11. None of the behavior so mentioned in Stanley can properly be viewed as “[v]ictimless,” ante, at 195: drugs and weapons are inherently dangerous, see, e. g., McLaughlin v. United States, 476 U. S. 16 (1986), and for property to be “stolen,” someone must have been wrongfully deprived of it. Nothing in the record before the Court provides any justification for finding the activity forbidden by § 16-6-2 to be physically dangerous, either to the persons engaged in it or to others.4
*210The core of petitioner’s defense of § 16-6-2, however, is that respondent and others who engage in the conduct prohibited by § 16-6-2 interfere with Georgia’s exercise of the “‘right of the Nation and of the States to maintain a decent society,”’ Paris Adult Theatre I v. Slaton, 413 U. S., at 59-60, quoting Jacobellis v. Ohio, 378 U. S. 184, 199 (1964) (Warren, C. J., dissenting). Essentially, petitioner argues, and the Court agrees, that the fact that the acts described in § 16-6-2 “for hundreds of years, if not thousands, have been uniformly condemned as immoral” is a sufficient reason to permit a State to ban them today. Brief for Petitioner 19; see ante, at 190, 192-194, 196.
I cannot agree that either the length of time a majority has held its convictions or the passions with which it defends them can withdraw legislation from this Court’s scrutiny. See, e. g., Roe v. Wade, 410 U. S. 113 (1973); Loving v. Virginia, 388 U. S. 1 (1967); Brown v. Board of Education, 347 U. S. 483 (1954).5 As Justice Jackson wrote so eloquently *211for the Court in West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624, 641-642 (1943), “we apply the limitations of the Constitution with no fear that freedom to be intellectually and spiritually diverse or even contrary will disintegrate the social organization. . . . [Fjreedom to differ is not limited to things that do not matter much. That would be a mere shadow of freedom. The test of its substance is the right to differ as to things that touch the heart of the existing order.” See also Karst, 89 Yale L. J., at 627. It is precisely because the issue raised by this case touches the heart of what makes individuals what they are that we should be especially sensitive to the rights of those whose choices upset the majority.
The assertion that “traditional Judeo-Christian values proscribe” the conduct involved, Brief for Petitioner 20, cannot provide an adequate justification for § 16-6-2. That certain, but by no means all, religious groups condemn the behavior at issue gives the State no license to impose their judgments on the entire citizenry. The legitimacy of secular legislation depends instead on whether the State can advance some justification for its law beyond its conformity to religious doctrine. See, e. g., McGowan v. Maryland, 366 U. S. 420, 429-453 (1961); Stone v. Graham, 449 U. S. 39 (1980). Thus, far from buttressing his case, petitioner’s invocation of Leviticus, Romans, St. Thomas Aquinas, and sodomy’s heretical status during the Middle Ages undermines his suggestion that § 16-6-2 represents a legitimate use of secular coercive power.6 A State can no more punish private behavior be*212cause of religious intolerance than it can punish such behavior because of racial animus. “The Constitution cannot control such prejudices, but neither can it tolerate them. Private biases may be outside the reach of the law, but the law cannot, directly or indirectly, give them effect.” Palmore v. Sidoti, 466 U. S. 429, 433 (1984). No matter how uncomfortable a certain group may make the majority of this Court, we have held that “[m]ere public intolerance or animosity cannot constitutionally justify the deprivation of a person’s physical liberty.” O’Connor v. Donaldson, 422 U. S. 563, 575 (1975). See also Cleburne v. Cleburne Living Center, Inc., 473 U. S. 432 (1985); United States Dept. of Agriculture v. Moreno, 413 U. S. 528, 534 (1973).
Nor can § 16-6-2 be justified as a “morally neutral” exercise of Georgia’s power to “protect the public environment,” Paris Adult Theatre I, 413 U. S., at 68-69. Certainly, some private behavior can affect the fabric of society as a whole. Reasonable people may differ about whether particular sexual acts are moral or immoral, but “we have ample evidence for believing that people will not abandon morality, will not think any better of murder, cruelty and dishonesty, merely because some private sexual practice which they abominate is not punished by the law.” H. L. A. Hart, Immorality and Treason, reprinted in The Law as Literature 220, 225 (L. Blom-Cooper ed. 1961). Petitioner and the Court fail to see the difference between laws that protect public sensibilities and those that enforce private morality. Statutes banning *213public sexual activity are entirely consistent with protecting the individual’s liberty interest in decisions concerning sexual relations: the same recognition that those decisions are intensely private which justifies protecting them from governmental interference can justify protecting individuals from unwilling exposure to the sexual activities of others. But the mere fact that intimate behavior may be punished when it takes place in public cannot dictate how States can regulate intimate behavior that occurs in intimate places. See Paris Adult Theatre I, 413 U. S., at 66, n. 13 (“marital intercourse on a street corner or a theater stage” can be forbidden despite the constitutional protection identified in Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965)).7
This case involves no real interference with the rights of others, for the mere knowledge that other individuals do not adhere to one’s value system cannot be a legally cognizable interest, cf. Diamond v. Charles, 476 U. S. 54, 65-66 (1986), let alone an interest that can justify invading the houses, hearts, and minds of citizens who choose to live their lives differently.
IV
It took but three years for the Court to see the error in its analysis in Minersville School District v. Gobitis, 310 U. S. *214586 (1940), and to recognize that the threat to national cohesion posed by a refusal to salute the flag was vastly outweighed by the threat to those same values posed by compelling such a salute. See West Virginia Board of Education v. Barnette, 319 U. S. 624 (1943). I can only hope that here, too, the Court soon will reconsider its analysis and conclude that depriving individuals of the right to choose for themselves how to conduct their intimate relationships poses a far greater threat to the values most deeply rooted in our Nation’s history than tolerance of nonconformity could ever do. Because I think the Court today betrays those values, I dissent.
Until 1968, Georgia defined sodomy as “the carnal knowledge and connection against the order of nature, by man with man, or in the same unnatural manner with woman.” Ga. Crim. Code §26-5901 (1933). In Thompson v. Aldredge, 187 Ga. 467, 200 S. E. 799 (1939), the Georgia Supreme Court held that § 26-5901 did not prohibit lesbian activity. And in Riley v. Garrett, 219 Ga. 345, 133 S. E. 2d 367 (1963), the Georgia *201Supreme Court held that §26-5901 did not prohibit heterosexual cunnilingus. Georgia passed the act-specific statute currently in force “perhaps in response to the restrictive court decisions such as Riley,” Note, The Crimes Against Nature, 16 J. Pub. L. 159, 167, n. 47 (1967).
In Robinson v. California, 370 U. S. 660 (1962), the Court held that the Eighth Amendment barred convicting a defendant due to his “status” as a- narcotics addict, since that condition was “apparently an illness which may be contracted innocently or involuntarily.” Id., at 667. In Powell v. Texas, 392 U. S. 514 (1968), where the Court refused to extend Robinson to punishment of public drunkenness by a chronic alcoholic, one of the factors relied on by Justice Marshall, in writing the plurality opinion, was that Texas had not “attempted to regulate appellant’s behavior in the privacy of his own home.” Id., at 532. Justice White wrote separately:
“Analysis of this difficult ease is not advanced by preoccupation with the label ‘condition.’ In Robinson the Court dealt with ‘a statute which makes the “status” of narcotic addiction a criminal offense . . . 370 U. S., at 666. By precluding criminal conviction for such a ‘status’ the Court was dealing with a condition brought about by acts remote in time from the application of the criminal sanctions contemplated, a condition which was relatively permanent in duration, and a condition of great magnitude and significance in terms of human behavior and values. ... If it were necessary to distinguish between ‘acts’ and ‘conditions’ for purposes of the Eighth Amendment, I would adhere to the concept of ‘condition’ implicit in the opinion in Robinson .... The proper subject of inquiry is whether volitional acts brought about the ‘condition’ and whether those acts are suf-*203fieiently proximate to the ‘condition’ for it to be permissible to impose penal sanctions on the ‘condition.’” Id., at 550-551, n. 2.
Despite historical views of homosexuality, it is no longer viewed by mental health professionals as a “disease” or disorder. See Brief for American Psychological Association and American Public Health Association as Amici Curiae 8-11. But, obviously, neither is it simply a matter of deliberate personal election. Homosexual orientation may well form part of the very fiber of an individual’s personality. Consequently, under Justice White’s analysis in Powell, the Eighth Amendment may pose a constitutional barrier to sending an individual to prison for acting on that attraction regardless of the circumstances. An individual’s ability to make constitutionally protected “decisions concerning sexual relations,” Carey v. Population Services International, 431 U. S. 678, 711 (1977) (Powell, J., concurring in part and concurring in judgment), is rendered empty indeed if he or she is given no real choice but a life without any physical intimacy.
With respect to the Equal Protection Clause’s applicability to § 16-6-2,1 note that Georgia’s exclusive stress before this Court on its interest in prosecuting homosexual activity despite the gender-neutral terms of the statute may raise serious questions of discriminatory enforcement, questions that cannot be disposed of before this Court on a motion to dismiss. See Yick Wo v. Hopkins, 118 U. S. 356, 373-374 (1886). The legislature having decided that the sex of the participants is irrelevant to the legality of the acts, I do not see why the State can defend § 16-6-2 on the ground that individuals singled out for prosecution are of the same sex as their partners. Thus, under the circumstances of this case, a claim under the Equal Protection Clause may well be available without having to reach the more controversial question whether homosexuals are a suspect class. See, e. g., Rowland v. Mad River Local School District, 470 U. S. 1009 (1985) (Brennan, J., dissenting from denial of certiorari); Note, The Constitutional Status of Sexual Orientation: Homosexuality as a Suspect Classification, 98 Harv. L. Rev. 1285 (1985).
Even if a court faced with a challenge to § 16-6-2 were to apply simple rational-basis scrutiny to the statute, Georgia would be required to show *209an actual connection between the forbidden acts and the ill effects it seeks to prevent. The connection between the acts prohibited by § 16-6-2 and the harms identified by petitioner in his brief before this Court is a subject of hot dispute, hardly amenable to dismissal under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 12(b)(6). Compare, e. g., Brief for Petitioner 36-37 and Brief for David Robinson, Jr., as Amicus Curiae 23-28, on the one hand, with People v. Onofre, 51 N. Y. 2d 476, 489, 415 N. E. 2d 936, 941 (1980); Brief for the Attorney General of the State of New York, joined by the Attorney General of the State of California, as Amici Curiae 11-14; and Brief for the American Psychological Association and American Public Health Association as Amici Curiae 19-27, on the other.
Although I do not think it necessary to decide today issues that are not even remotely before us, it does seem to me that a court could find simple, analytically sound distinctions between certain private, consensual sexual conduct, on the one hand, and adultery and incest (the only two vaguely specific “sexual crimes” to which the majority points, ante, at 196), on the other. For example, marriage, in addition to its spiritual aspects, is a civil contract that entitles the contracting parties to a variety of governmentally provided benefits. A State might define the contractual commitment necessary to become eligible for these benefits to include a commitment of fidelity and then punish individuals for breaching that contract. Moreover, a State might conclude that adultery is likely to injure third persons, in particular, spouses and children of persons who engage in extramarital affairs. With respect to incest, a court might well agree with respondent that the nature of familial relationships renders true consent to incestuous activity sufficiently problematical that a blanket prohibition of such activity *210is warranted. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 21-22. Notably, the Court makes no effort to explain why it has chosen to group private, consensual homosexual activity with adultery and incest rather than with private, consensual heterosexual activity by unmarried persons or, indeed, with oral or anal sex within marriage.
The parallel between Loving and this case is almost uncanny. There, too, the State relied on a religious justification for its law. Compare 388 U. S., at 3 (quoting trial court’s statement that “Almighty God created the races white, black, yellow, malay and red, and he placed them on separate continents. . . . The fact that he separated the races shows that he did not intend for the races to mix”), with Brief for Petitioner 20-21 (relying on the Old and New Testaments and the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas to show that “traditional Judeo-Christian values proscribe such conduct”). There, too, defenders of the challenged statute relied heavily on the fact that when the Fourteenth Amendment was ratified, most of the States had similar prohibitions. Compare Brief for Appellee in Loving v. Virginia, O. T. 1966, No. 395, pp. 28-29, with ante, at 192-194, and n. 6. There, too, at the time the ease came before the Court, many of the States still had criminal statutes concerning the conduct at issue. Compare 388 U. S., at 6, n. 5 (noting that 16 States still outlawed interracial marriage), with ante, at 193-194 (noting that 24 States and the District of Columbia have sodomy *211statutes). Yet the Court held, not only that the invidious racism of Virginia’s law violated the Equal Protection Clause, see 388 U. S., at 7-12, but also that the law deprived the Lovings of due process by denying them the “freedom of choice to marry” that had “long been recognized as one of the vital personal rights essential to the orderly pursuit of happiness by free men.” Id,., at 12.
The theological nature of the origin of Anglo-American antisodomy statutes is patent. It was not until 1633 that sodomy was made a secular offense in England. 26 Hen. VIII, ch. 6. Until that time, the offense *212was, in Sir James Stephen’s words, “merely ecclesiastical.” 2 J. Stephen, A History of the Criminal Law of England 429-430 (1883). Pollock and Maitland similarly observed that “[t]he crime against nature . . . was so closely connected with heresy that the vulgar had but one name for both.” 2 F. Pollock & F. Maitland, The History of English Law 554 (1895). The transfer of jurisdiction over prosecutions for sodomy to the secular courts seems primarily due to the alteration of ecclesiastical jurisdiction attendant on England’s break with the Roman Catholic Church, rather than to any new understanding of the sovereign’s interest in preventing or punishing the behavior involved. Cf. 6 E. Coke, Institutes, eh. 10 (4th ed. 1797).
At oral argument a suggestion appeared that, while the Fourth Amendment’s special protection of the home might prevent the State from enforcing § 16-6-2 against individuals who engage in consensual sexual activity there, that protection would not make the statute invalid. See Tr. of Oral Arg. 10-11. The suggestion misses the point entirely. If the law is not invalid, then the police can invade the home to enforce it, provided, of course, that they obtain a determination of probable cause from a neutral magistrate. One of the reasons for the Court’s holding in Griswold v. Connecticut, 381 U. S. 479 (1965), was precisely the possibility, and repug-nancy, of permitting searches to obtain evidence regarding the use of contraceptives. Id., at 485-486. Permitting the kinds of searches that might be necessary to obtain evidence of the sexual activity banned by § 16-6-2 seems no less intrusive, or repugnant. Cf. Winston v. Lee, 470 U. S. 753 (1985); Mary Beth G. v. City of Chicago, 723 F. 2d 1263, 1274 (CA7 1983).