For quite some time, I have been harping on the logical extrapolation of wrongful convictions in non-DNA cases based upon the post-conviction determination that an innocent has been convicted based on DNA. In other words, if 10% of all people convicted where subsequent use of DNA proved that they were in fact innocent, what does this mean for the greater population where no DNA evidence is available? By simple logic, at least 10% of these defendant are also innocent and wrongfully convicted.
For all the stories about DNA and wrongful convictions, nowhere has anyone made the effort to follow this problem to its logical conclusion. Until now. Thanks to New York Times legal reporter, Adam Liptak, a new study by UVA Law Professor Brandon L Garrett does just that. it’s about time.
According to Liptak, Prof. Garrett “for the first time, systematically examined the 200 cases, in which innocent people served an average of 12 years in prison. In each case, of course, the evidence used to convict them was at least flawed and often false — yet juries, trial judges and appellate courts failed to notice.”
Now that I’ve been vindicated, I want to take this opportunity to have a chat with the judges who are reading this. The rest of you, go chat amongst yourselves.
Are they gone? Good. Now judges, let’s be honest. We know what the problem is. Your calenders are full. You’re underpaid and feel neglected and unloved. While we all love to spout platitudes about our wonderful system, we know that innocent people go to jail and guilty people go free, so what difference does it make? Like you’re supposed to put your own butt on the line to let some poor schnook go. And of course, it’s not like we haven’t heard it all a thousand times before. Let’s take a hard look at reality: Most of them are guilty and a few have to take one for the team. That’s the best we can do, right?
Most of these poor schnooks have a mother, a spouse or a child who, for whatever reason, loves and needs them. You are causing these people misery. For some, unbearable misery. You wouldn’t pull the wings off a fly, yet you will take a parent from a child’s arms without losing sleep.
Right now, you’re thinking, “this guy is incredibly naive.” Perhaps, though I plead guilty to being a bit idealistic. My point is that going with the odds is not good enough. That most are guilty does not mean that you toss them all in jail and let god sort it out later. You know that cops lie, yet you will rarely call them on it. Even when you do, to some small extent, you don’t come right out and say it. Why? Because they have coopted you into their system. Admit it. You feel closer to cops than to real people. You don’t want to start a war, or get a reputation, as a defendant-lover. It’s just not worth it to you, and it will sink your career faster than calling the Chief Judge a twit.
Remember why you wanted to be a judge (this only applies to some of you, not the ones with low self-esteem who wanted to make other lawyers suck up to you)? It was to do some good. To make your lives worthwhile. Have you completely lost that desire? Has your integrity so completely disintegrated that you no longer care at all whether you’re an instrument for good or evil? Look inside yourself, I know there’s still some small piece of that integrity left. It’s the little voice saying, “stand up on this one.”
So there’s still a few of you saying, “Hey, you knew the price when you made me a judge. I’m a ‘go-with-the-flow kinda guy, and don’t try to guilt me into being anything else.” Well, how about this. Maybe you don’t have to take the path of least resistance. Maybe you can go home tonight and feel some iota of pride in having broken out of the box. You can do it. You can show them that you’re better than everyone assumed. When was the last time you were alone and felt proud of yourself? It can happen.
Just think about it. Someday, a child may come up to you and thank you.
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You are oh so right. If DNA reveals so many wrongful convictions, how many more must there be where DNA evidence is not helpful.
So what are prosecutors doing?
Why do they get it wrong so often?
I deal with these issues, in a non-DNA case, in my second novel, “A Good Conviction,” which tells the story of a young man convicted of a murder he did not commit by a prosecutor who may have hidden evidence that would have led to a not guilty verdict.
Several prosecutors and criminal appeals attorneys helped me with the legal aspects of a Brady appeal in New York State, and all of them agreed that what I portrayed in my story was both realistic and all too possible.
Steve Cohen, the former federal prosecutor who was so instrumental in the infamous Palladium case (he’s now now Chief of Staff to NYS Attorney General Cuomo), read my book and told me at dinner that it was the most powerful case against bad prosecutors that he had ever read, more compelling even than John Grisham’s “The Innocent Man.”
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I’d be curious as to your opinion of whether a novel can be effective in drawing attention to prosecutors who abuse their power.
LEW WEINSTEIN
Lew,
While I appreciate your comment, this blawg is not an opportunity to sell commercial products, even if they relate to the subject matter.
On another note, citing to Leslie Crocker Snyder is not going to get anyone any fans in New York. She was perhaps the most vicious, self-aggrandizing person to ever sit on the bench, and there is no one in the defense bar who would find her support of your book a good reason to buy it. I might add that this may explain why Leslie’s book, “25 to Life,” also known as “I’m So Special, Make Me District Attorney,” was unable to sell 25 copies.
Finally, in response to your question, my opinion is that a novel cannot be effective. The stories of prosecutorial abuse are manifest. No one cares until it happens to them.
SHG
Thanks for your response.