The Texas Tornado, ruthless yet empathetic (or emphatic, according to ones preferred recognition of the English language) Houston criminal defense lawyer and president-elect of the Harris County Criminal Lawyers Association, Mark Bennett, has come up with yet another stroke of brilliance.

In anticipation of his assumption of the presidency, Mark has been advised that he needs to be more “diplomatic”.  I fail to see an issue, but apparently folks are very sensitive down there in Harris County, Texas, which puts  more people to death than any other place in the country except the Free and Independent Nation of Texas itself.  I guess they get a little touchy when they are busy executing people all the time.  Probably more so when it turns out that the people are innocent.

Anyway, Mark has initiated a new award, Asshat of the Day Award, hereinafter referred to as the “ADA”.  Mark has a way with naming things.  I’m really jealous of him, because he’s just so much better at it than anyone else I know.  After all, he’s the guy who came up with the “practical blawgosphere,” and has confirmed his place in history by that alone.

The inaugural ADA goes to a particular group, rather than an individual, as is befitting an award that has such sweeping breadth.

Today’s Asshat of the Day Award (henceforth “ADA”) is shared by every 25-28 year old lawyer who thinks that a law degree and a job with a District Attorney’s Office somehow qualifies her to make decisions that affect other people’s freedom, their livelihood, and their futures.

Now that’s diplomatic.  Unless you happen to be one of those 25-28 year olds who is confident that you exercise the power to help lives, or destroy lives, according to your strongly held belief that you do so with justice, mercy, and for the good of mankind (or womankind, so as not to be undiplomatic).

This inaugural ADA meshes well with an exchange here yesterday with a prosecutor named Mark.  I can’t tell you a lot about Mark, because he wasn’t giving up much that would enable me to know where he was coming from.  I don’t know if he fits into the ADA parameters,  He could have been a lifer in the prosecutor’s office, or a kid with one month under his belt.  He could be well-regarded, or deeply hated, by the judges and defense bar. 

Mark took issue with  a post that included some verbiage:

I can’t count the number of times some kid prosecutor confuses himself with being Odie to some cop’s Garfield, lapping up whatever story the cop feeds him as if it’s gospel.

It was the “odie” part that got to him.  Mark wanted to let me know that he’s no Odie.  Of course, no one said he was, but that wasn’t about to stop Mark from making his point.

Two things of significance came out of the exchange.  Mark, notwithstanding his anonymity, wrote

I can’t speak for every prosecutor’s/DA’s/USA’s office in America, but in my office for every two police reports we charge, we deny charges on one. Stop and think about that ratio for a moment. This simple fact, in my mind, is a compelling response to your Odie crack.

And this means what?  First, he can’t speak for “every” prosecutor’s office?  Actually, he can’t speak for any prosecutor’s office except his own, reducing the significance of his assertion to essentially a nullity.  So there’s one office that tosses one third of all charges brought to it by the cops?  Woo hoo.

But more significantly, does this ratio, assuming it to be true, change anything?  Obviously, Mark puts enormous stock in the fact that his office rejects one third of the cases brought to them by the cops.  This demonstrates, in his mind, that young prosecutors are not Odies.  If they were, they would happily lap up whatever the Garfield cops bring in the door, with question or concern.

Things like this make me feel old and tired.  Aside from Mark’s misapprehension that I called every kid prosecutor an Odie, it reveals the arrogance of youth and self-righteousness.  The flip side of being an Odie is society’s placement into the hands of a twenty-something prosecutor, with his great breadth of life experience, understanding of people and philosophical appreciation of the consequences of his choices, the lives of men, women and children.  Little kids playing God with other people’s lives. 

Young people often have a confidence that time wears down.  They feel an assurance that their decisions are right and that they have a deep enough understanding of the world to exercise their power appropriately.  Not all young people, but many of them.  Maybe Mark falls into the class.  Maybe not.  Since I don’t know anything about him, I couldn’t possibly say.  But when you’ve lived through a bunch more aches and pains, you realize the life has far more shades of gray than you thought.  I used to be a twenty-something.  I was much smarter then.  I know much less now.

But after trying to cajole Mark into giving up some info so that I could assess the basis of his claims and arguments, to little avail, he finally wrote something that gave me a ton of insight into his experience and world view:

By the way, I’m sure you have no problem beating up on Odie the prosecutor each and every time he puts an obviously lying cop on the stand. Wait, you mean sometimes the judge thinks the cop is telling the truth? Maybe you should write a post about naive judges.

Here’s my problem.  I knew that “naive judge” when he was Odie the prosecutor.  I knew her when she was the defense lawyer who wants to prove she can be just as tough as the other judges.  I knew him when he couldn’t figure out who was lying or telling the truth, and decided it was easier to go with the odds.  I knew her when she got her butt handed to her by the appellate court for being too pro-defendant.  I knew her when the state senator whispered in her ear that she would never get any higher in the judicial hierarchy unless she stopped making waves.  I knew him when he got tired of trying so hard to do the right thing and decided to just try to make it through the day without losing his cool.

Congratulations on winning the ADA.  It will be an award you will come to appreciate.  Not now, but some day.