Sen. Marsha Blackburn is demanding Chief Justice John Roberts open an investigation into Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson after the Supreme Court justice attended the 68th Grammy Awards in Los Angeles—an event where attendees wore "ICE Out" lapel pins, and winners declared "No one is illegal on stolen land" and "F— ICE" from the stage.
Fox News reported that Blackburn, a Tennessee Republican who sits on the Senate Judiciary Committee, sent a letter to Roberts urging the chief justice to determine whether Jackson's attendance violated the Supreme Court's Code of Conduct and whether her participation would require recusal from cases coming before the Court.
The timing is not incidental. The Supreme Court is slated to take on cases revolving around the Trump administration's agenda, including birthright citizenship and immigration—precisely the issues that turned the January 29 ceremony into a political rally.
Jackson attended the 2026 Recording Academy Honors presented by The Black Music Collective, where she had been nominated for narrating the audiobook version of her memoir, "Lovely One." What she walked into—or chose to stay for—went well beyond a celebration of musical achievement.
Attendees pinned "ICE Out" buttons to their lapels. Winners used their platform to attack U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. Critics said Jackson clapped as various speakers criticized ICE. The rhetoric was not subtle. It was not coded. It was profane, direct, and aimed squarely at the federal government's enforcement of immigration law.
A sitting Supreme Court justice sat in that audience. That fact alone deserves scrutiny. That the Court will soon adjudicate immigration cases involving the very agency being denounced makes it something more.
Blackburn's letter does not mince words. She draws a clear line between attendance and implication, arguing that Jackson's presence at an overtly political event raises legitimate questions about judicial impartiality.
"While it is by no means unheard of or unusual for a Supreme Court justice to attend a public function, very rarely—if ever—have justices of our nation's highest Court been present at an event at which attendees have amplified such far-left rhetoric."
That distinction matters. No one argues that justices should be confined to their chambers. They attend galas, give speeches, and appear at universities. But there is a difference between attending a cultural event and sitting through what amounted to a political demonstration against a federal law enforcement agency—one whose work will land on your desk in a matter of months.
Blackburn pressed the point further, calling on Roberts to act:
"To that end, in the interest of a fair-minded, impartial, and independent federal judiciary, I urge you to initiate an investigation into Justice Jackson's attendance at this event and if her participation in any way would require recusal from matters that will come before the Court."
The senator is not asking for Jackson's removal. She is asking whether a justice who attended—and by some accounts applauded—an event dripping with hostility toward ICE can credibly sit in judgment on cases involving that same agency. It is a reasonable question. The Code of Conduct exists precisely for moments like this.
For years, Democrats and their media allies mounted sustained campaigns against Justices Clarence Thomas and Samuel Alito. Sens. Dick Durbin and Sheldon Whitehouse wrote to Roberts demanding that Alito recuse himself from cases related to the 2020 election and the January 6, 2021, Capitol riot. The basis? Alito's wife had put up a Revolutionary War-era flag at their home.
A flag. Hung by a spouse. At a private residence.
That was enough for Democrats to demand recusal, launch news cycles, and question the legitimacy of the Court itself. The apparatus of outrage cranked to full volume over fabric on a pole.
Now a liberal justice personally attends a public awards show where performers and winners openly cursed a federal agency, where the crowd wore protest pins, and where the political messaging was unmistakable—and the question is whether anyone will apply the same standard.
Blackburn drew the comparison explicitly:
"Unlike these meritless claims against Justice Alito and Justice Thomas, there are serious questions regarding Justice Jackson's participation in such a brazenly political, anti-law enforcement event and her ability to remain an impartial member of the Supreme Court."
The left built this framework. They insisted that even the faintest suggestion of political sympathy—a flag, a friendship, a vacation—disqualified conservative justices from hearing cases. They demanded investigations, recusals, and resignations on evidence that would not survive a hallway conversation. They wrote the rules of engagement.
The question now is whether those rules apply to everyone or only to justices appointed by Republican presidents.
This is not an abstract debate about judicial etiquette. The Supreme Court's upcoming docket includes cases directly tied to the Trump administration's immigration enforcement—including birthright citizenship. These are cases where ICE's authority, its operations, and its legal mandate will be central questions.
Jackson did not attend a jazz concert that happened to get political. She attended an event where opposition to immigration enforcement was the dominant cultural message of the evening. If the standard Democrats established means anything—if proximity to political expression creates an appearance of bias—then Jackson's attendance is a textbook case for recusal review.
The Court adopted its formal Code of Conduct relatively recently, after years of Democratic pressure. It would be deeply ironic if the first real test of that code involved a Democratic-appointed justice—and the institution simply looked away.
As of now, neither the Supreme Court nor Blackburn's office has publicly responded to press inquiries about the letter. Jackson herself has offered no public comment on the controversy.
That silence is its own kind of statement. When Thomas and Alito faced similar—and far thinner—allegations, the demand from the left was immediate transparency, public explanation, and institutional action. Opinion pages lit up. Cable news ran chyrons. Senators held press conferences.
The Grammy Awards aired on a Sunday. Jackson was there. The anti-ICE rhetoric was loud, public, and profane. And the response from the usual guardians of judicial ethics has been conspicuously quiet.
Roberts now holds Blackburn's letter. Whether he acts on it will signal something important about the Court's willingness to apply its own standards evenly. The chief justice has historically guarded the institution's independence from political pressure on both sides. This is a moment where that independence gets tested—not by an outside attack, but by the conduct of one of his own colleagues.
Blackburn has done what the Senate Judiciary Committee exists to do: exercise oversight and demand accountability from the judiciary. She has not called for impeachment. She has not questioned Jackson's fitness for the bench. She has asked, plainly, whether sitting through a political event hostile to federal law enforcement creates a conflict of interest in pending cases. The letter is measured. The question is direct.
The left spent years insisting that the appearance of impartiality matters as much as impartiality itself. They said the standard must be rigorous. They said the Court's legitimacy depended on it. They were right about that much.
Now we find out if they meant it.
