One of the first things 1Ls learn in law school is the principle of stare decisis. Stare decisis ("stand by decisions") is a theory that says courts should honor past rulings and apply law in a way that doesn't contradict past rulings. The idea is that such judicial restraint makes our laws predictable and fair in their application.
Of course, we know that, in real life, this doesn't happen, and that stare decisis is a fig leaf used when people like a previous decision and want more decisions like it. When one dislikes previous decisions, one argues how the current situation is different (in legalese, you distinguish the case) from the previous one. Thus, you get the spectacle of trying to square Gonzales v. Carhart with Stenberg v. Carhart, knowing that they contradict each other.
This is the same problem that came up in the Lawrence v. Texas case when it basically contradicted Bowers v. Hardwick. Sure, there's lots of window-dressing done in these cases, but the bottom line is that a new set of justices have decided that a previous set got it wrong.
Michael Stokes Paulsen at Balkinization has an interesting post about stare decisis and what a hoax it is.
Stare decisis is a charade. The doctrine, taken seriously, suggests that judges should deliberately decide cases in ways they otherwise are fully persuaded are wrong, on what they otherwise would regard as the proper interpretive criteria -- sometimes. (When that "sometimes" is is itself a disputed aspect of the doctrine.) Taken seriously, the doctrine is unconstitutional: it suggests that a court should prefer the (by hypothesis) faithless earlier departure from the Constitution to the correct understanding of the Constitution, in situations where they conflict. This is directly contrary to the reasoning of Marbury v. Madison -- a sound precedent if ever there were one. (Marbury is right in its argument for judicial review not because it is Marbury, but because it is right.)
But of course the doctrine of stare decisis is not taken seriously, and with good reason. Rarely, if ever, does the Supreme Court, or any individual justice, reach an outcome different from how the Court (or justice) would decide the matter independent of precedent. (Ironically, Planned Parenthood v. Casey may be the one true, significant counterexample.) Usually, stare decisis is just a dishonest or disingenuous cover for a decision reached on other grounds. And, as Gonzales v. Carhart today shows, stare decisis does not truly constrain departures from prior decisions either. (Gonzales v. Carhart is hardly the most compelling illustration of this reality: Casey itself overruled two prior abortion decisions and altered, slightly, the legal framework of Roe -- on the ground that "stare decisis" required it. Lawrence v. Texas overruled Bowers v. Hardwick, with Kennedy there searching desperately, and unsuccessfully, for persuasive reasons why Casey's stare decisis analysis should not bar such overruling.) The notion of stare decisis thus hides the ball, and often drives the true basis of decision underground. The result (when it isn't an outright wrong answer) is proliferation of artificial distinctions, exacerbartion of confusion, creation of a greater and more contradictory body of decisions (from which to permit courts to pick and choose, ostensibly on the basis of stare decisis), and general dishonesty (or at least a lack of candor) in constitutional law.
The truth is, everybody argues stare decisis when they like previous decisions. But if we adhered strictly to this philosophy, there would be no point in bringing new cases and new arguments to the court. While stare decisis may help judges make determinations in some instances, complaining that stare decisis must always be followed reveals more about one's personal opinion than about the merits of any particular argument.
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