Kansas judge halts state ban on sex-change drugs for minors, drawing sharp rebuke from attorney general
A Kansas state judge on Friday blocked a key provision of the state's law banning sex-change drugs for minors, ruling that the measure likely violates parents' constitutional rights, a decision Kansas Attorney General Kris Kobach immediately condemned as judicial activism and vowed to appeal.
Judge Carl Folsom III of the State District Court in Douglas County issued the temporary injunction in a 117-page ruling, siding with the American Civil Liberties Union of Kansas, which had filed suit on behalf of two transgender-identifying teens and their parents. The ruling halts enforcement of the law's prohibition on puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones for minors, though it leaves intact a separate provision banning sex-change surgeries for youth.
The decision lands squarely against the grain of a national legal trend. The U.S. Supreme Court upheld a Tennessee law banning sex changes for minors in U.S. v. Skrmetti last year. And on the same Friday that Folsom issued his ruling, Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton and the Department of Justice announced a resolution and settlement with Texas Children's Hospital, one that would create the first clinic for detransitioners and halt sex changes for minors at that facility. Kansas, in other words, now stands as an outlier, with a single district judge overriding the legislature's judgment even as federal courts and other states move in the opposite direction.
Kobach: judge 'invented a new constitutional right'
Kobach did not mince words. He called the ruling a "stark example of judicial activism" and told Breitbart News he plans to appeal.
"The judge invented a new constitutional right out of whole cloth. Even though the Kansas Constitution says nothing about it, the judge created a new right of parents to obtain otherwise-illegal treatments for their children."
That framing puts the fight in blunt terms. The Kansas legislature passed the ban. Governor Laura Kelly vetoed it. The Republican-dominated legislature overrode her veto. The law reflected the will of elected representatives, and now a single judge has suspended a central part of it based on a right he located nowhere in the state constitution's text.
Kelly, for her part, had described the law as "government interference in Kansans' private medical decisions." Her veto failed to hold. The ACLU lawsuit succeeded where her pen did not.
What the ruling actually says
Folsom's 117-page opinion found that transgender-identifying children would likely face "irreparable harm" if the drug ban remained in place. He described testimony that gender-transition treatments for minors were "safe and effective" as credible. And he grounded his injunction in the idea that parents hold a constitutional right to direct their children's medical care, a right he concluded the ban likely infringes.
That reasoning deserves scrutiny. Courts across the country have long recognized parental rights in education, religion, and medical decisions. But the Kansas legislature, like legislatures in more than a dozen other states, determined that certain experimental interventions on minors fall outside the scope of ordinary parental discretion, the same way laws restrict parents from consenting to other procedures deemed harmful to children.
The judge's logic effectively elevates one contested medical framework above the legislative process. Lawmakers weighed the evidence and acted. Folsom weighed the same contested evidence and overruled them. The question of which branch gets the final say is now headed to a higher court.
The pattern is familiar to anyone watching the broader string of cases where judges have blocked laws passed by conservative legislatures on cultural flashpoints. Whether the subject is religious displays in classrooms or medical interventions on children, the mechanism is the same: a single jurist substituting his judgment for that of the people's elected representatives.
The ACLU celebrates, but the fight is far from over
Harper Seldin, a lawyer for the ACLU, called the ruling a major victory.
"[This] is a momentous win for not just our plaintiffs, but for everyone who is affected in Kansas."
Seldin's framing treats the injunction as a settled matter. It is not. Kobach has signaled a swift appeal, and the Supreme Court's decision in Skrmetti provides a strong federal backdrop. In that case, the high court found that Tennessee's ban on sex-change procedures for minors did not violate the Equal Protection Clause, a ruling that undercuts the constitutional theory on which challenges like the Kansas lawsuit depend.
The Kansas case turns on state constitutional grounds rather than federal ones, which gives Folsom's reasoning a degree of independence from Skrmetti. But the broader legal momentum is clear. State after state has moved to restrict these procedures, and the nation's highest court has blessed that approach.
Meanwhile, the Department of Justice's same-day announcement regarding Texas Children's Hospital signals that the federal government is now actively intervening on the other side of this issue. The DOJ has also recently subpoenaed NYU Langone over transgender procedures performed on minors, a sign that federal scrutiny of these medical practices is intensifying, not retreating.
A legislature overridden, again
The Kansas law's path to enactment was itself a story of democratic persistence. Kelly vetoed the measure. Lawmakers gathered the votes to override her. The bill became law through the most emphatic democratic mechanism available in state government, a supermajority override of a governor's veto.
Folsom's injunction suspends that outcome on the strength of his own reading of parental rights. Kobach's characterization, that the judge "invented" a right, reflects a core conservative objection to this kind of judicial reasoning. If a right does not appear in the constitutional text, and the legislature has acted within its recognized authority to regulate medical practice, then the court's role is to defer, not to legislate from the bench.
The ruling does draw one notable line. Folsom left the ban on sex-change surgeries for minors in place. That distinction suggests even the judge recognized limits, though it raises its own questions about consistency. If parental rights are broad enough to override the legislature on drugs, why not on surgery?
The answer may be that Folsom found the medical testimony on hormones and puberty blockers more persuasive than the evidence on surgical interventions. But that is precisely the kind of policy judgment that legislatures, not courts, are designed to make. Judges are not medical boards. They are not equipped to weigh competing clinical studies and set treatment protocols for an entire state.
Conservative legal observers have watched similar dynamics play out in other arenas. The Fifth Circuit recently upheld Texas's right to require Ten Commandments displays in public school classrooms, a ruling that deferred to the legislature's judgment on a culturally contested question. That kind of judicial restraint is exactly what Kobach and other critics say was missing from Folsom's decision.
What comes next
Kobach's appeal will likely move to the Kansas Court of Appeals or directly to the Kansas Supreme Court. The timeline is uncertain. In the meantime, the injunction means that minors in Kansas can continue to access puberty blockers and cross-sex hormones, drugs that a bipartisan supermajority of the state legislature voted to restrict.
The national landscape continues to shift. The Skrmetti ruling gave states broad latitude to regulate these procedures. The DOJ's actions in Texas suggest the federal government is prepared to hold medical institutions accountable for how they have administered these treatments. And recent DOJ disclosures about the prior administration's approach to politically sensitive cases involving minors have only deepened conservative skepticism about how legal institutions handle these issues.
The Kansas case is not over. It may, in fact, become a test of whether a single state judge can hold out against the combined weight of the Supreme Court, federal enforcement action, and the clear will of the state's own elected lawmakers.
When one judge can suspend a law that survived a veto, an override, and a Supreme Court precedent, all on the basis of a right he found in constitutional silence, the question stops being about medicine. It becomes about who governs.






