Amongst the many emails received daily with news, videos, stories and promotions that are floating around out there (most of which I can’t possibly post about, much to the consternation of readers and publicists), came this installment from the Ann Arbor Chronicle, Washtenaw Jail Diary: Chapter 3. Largely because the sender made no effort to hype the content, I took a chance and read the article. It was worth my time, and I hope worth yours.
This articulate and introspective view by an anonymous detainee, that started as twits and developed into a narrative, with the anticipation that it might be published as a book, reflects one person’s understanding of law and life inside. Some of his ideas will offend lawyers, particularly public defenders who take their responsibility seriously and will bristle at being called “public pretenders.” or snake oil salesmen. Bear in mind that this isn’t about you, but about the author and his understanding of a very strange and foreign world.
Some excerpts, just to whet your whistle.
I am taken from my block and brought to a room back near the dreaded holding tanks, meeting with the person with whom I am to entrust my life. And here, in front of me, is Clarence fucking Darrow, himself – all bluster and a bit cartoonish, reveling, it seems to me, in being the center of attention. He is surrounded by assistants, interns, law students – almost all of whom, I am strangely curious to discover, are attractive young women.
The Pretender tells me that I am not the usual kind of person he represents, since I am apparently well-spoken and educated. But that does not prevent him from launching into street lingo, some of which I ask him to translate for me. He speaks this way out of habit, I am guessing, to try to win the trust of his usual crop of clients.
I have mixed feelings about my Pretender. Do I want what appears to me to be a snake oil salesman representing my interests in these felony cases? Maybe this is exactly the kind of person I need on my side. The lawyer in my misdemeanor cases seemed much too timid for me – in fact, agreeing with the prosecutor in court.
Moot question. The price is right for the Public Pretender. Free is all I can afford, and I guess you get what you pay for.
It’s really worth reading, both for its inherent interest and value, as well as for a deeper understanding of how we’re perceived by others in our effort to do our job.
And if you enjoy this, you might also want to revisit this story by Jeffrey A. Tucker from the Ludwig von Mises Institute, another really great view from the inside. (Thanks to Kathleen, our hinterlands correspondent for reminding me of the Tucker post.)
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The former inmate is a good writer. I will be following his series with interest. His work sheds a bright light on the intersection of fear and narcissism that I find so common in criminal defendants.
Thanks for posting this.
Mr. J.,
Just curious as to where the “N” word comes in to play?
All I got was the fear part sprinkled with a dab of a poor-man relaying that the term “Sale-Out” attorney is still associated with court appointed / public defender.
If attorneys wish to honestly seperate themselves from this association, all one has to do is to refuse to plea out the innocent. But that would include working (investigating) and of course publicly denouncing dispicable acts. Condoning by remaing silent is equal to being part of the problem.
I look forward to the day that I wake up to learn that attorneys have converged on Washington to demonstrait against those rogue acts that smear the entire profession. I’ll fly up to get tased & gased right alone with them. I know, it aint happening.
Then and only then will you see reports of wide spread trust in PD’s / CA lawyers. Most of the time one gets what the “taxpayers” pays for. There’s a lawyer joke for you. Thanks.