Daniel Muessig was sentenced to 60 months in prison for selling weed. It wasn’t a wrongful conviction. He did it. He admitted it during his plea allocution. And unlike others, he’s got no excuse for not knowing better. He was a lawyer. Not just a lawyer but a criminal defense lawyer who got caught.

Muessig was swept up in a far-reaching federal investigation into trafficking of cocaine and heroin when agents discovered more than 400 pounds of marijuana during a raid on “stash house” in Squirrel Hill on May 24, 2019. (Muessig admits to dealing marijuana but says he has never sold or taken harder drugs.) He escaped from the raid on foot and lived in limbo for more than two years. Gradually, his fear of going to prison gave way to hope; he and his wife, Laura Boyarsky, began the process of adopting a child.

But everything changed when he was indicted last August and pleaded guilty in November.

Weed exists in a weird purgatory in the United States, Lawful in some states. Unlawful in others. Definitely still unlawful under federal law. But that gives rise to a monstrous inherent contradiction.

Companies sold about $30.6 billion worth of legal marijuana last year, making cannabis one of the fastest growing industries in the United States. Marijuana arrests, as a consequence, are way down. None of that provides comfort, though, to a 40-year-old Pittsburgh man named Daniel Muessig, who faces five years in prison for selling weed. A former lawyer with no criminal history, Muessig pleaded guilty last year to federal charges of conspiring to distribute 100 kilograms or more of marijuana and possession with intent to distribute 100 kilograms or more of marijuana.

The sentence, 60 months, was the mandatory minimum, but there are ways around it. A defendant could use the safety valve. A defendant can cooperate. Even now, after sentence, Muessig can cooperate and seek a Rule 35 motion. Apparently, he’s made the choice not to be a rat, and so he is taking the hit on five years.

“I’m not a snitch,” he says. “It’s against my moral code. No one is going to jail for marijuana on my watch if I can help it.”

I can’t fault his choice, whatever his “moral code” entails, as he won’t sacrifice others to save his own butt. But as for “no one going to jail for marijuana” on his watch, is that about his moral code or his views on weed politics?

Muessig was raised in a middle-class home in Squirrel Hill, a tight-knit Jewish neighborhood in Pittsburgh. He first worked as a rapper, touring Europe and selling CDs and records. He then became a criminal defense lawyer, enjoying a few minutes of fame when he released a brash YouTube video featuring testimonials from men, who appeared to be his criminal pals, thanking him for getting them off the hook.

The video will be very effective to some, very funny to those of us who understand what it means to be a criminal defense lawyer and appreciate a little dark humor, and outrageous and horrible to others. Whether that’s saying the quiet part out loud or being that evil lawyer who is responsible for putting bad dudes back on the street, that’s the nature of the job, even if this isn’t really the spin most of us prefer.

Indeed, his words in the video might have been more prophetic than intended.

I may have a law degree, but I think like a criminal.

Contrary to the sad stories of a certain cohort of criminal law reformers, we occasionally represent guilty people. And we do so with the same zeal as anyone else. To be frank, whether a client is innocent or guilty makes no difference at all in how hard we try to beat the case. That’s what we do, beat our clients’ cases.

But what we don’t do is crime. We represent criminals. We don’t commit crimes. We don’t facilitate the commission of crimes. Because of who we know, who we represent, the opportunity to commit crime is rampant. And yet, there is a very bright line we never cross between what we do and who we are and what our clients do. Muessig crossed that line.

When Muessig realized that the video might prejudice prosecutors and judges against him, he gave up on law and turned to what he knew: pot. Pennsylvania has not legalized marijuana for recreational use, but “people needed cannabis here,” Muessig says. “I did it for money, yes. I also did it because people in our community deserved access before the government and monied interests decided it was suitable for them to get it.”

That his video might not receive a warm and fuzzy reaction from prosecutors and judges that might inure to the detriment of his clients seems a bit too obvious for discussion. Sure, it was funny and outrageous, but only from the gallows humor perspective shared by some on the other side of the courtroom and their clients. But was that a reason to give up on law and “turn to what he knew: pot”?

But the contention that “people needed cannabis here” serves as some excuse for crossing the very bright line between criminal defense lawyer and criminal doesn’t fly. There are many lawyers who feel strongly that weed should be legal for all purposes, including recreational, and who put in efforts to make that happen. Change the law. Fight for the arrested. Argue your case, your side, your “moral code” that “people in our community deserved access before the government and monied interests decided it was suitable for them to get it.” And make some money while doing it.

At sentence, Judge Arthur J. Schwab noted “the seriousness of the offense” and the need to “promote respect for the law.” The former rings hollow these days, as marijuana is legalized and as big corporations make big bucks fulfilling the community’s need and want. There is no way to make sense of how weed is addressed across jurisdictions, but to call it serious when it’s entirely lawful elsewhere makes no sense.

But when a lawyer, a criminal defense lawyer at that, crosses a line he knows exists, with full knowledge that what he’s doing, if caught, will put him in prison, the fault isn’t with an irrational and inherently conflicting system, but with a lack of respect for the law. The law may be wrong and stupid, but as long as it remains a crime, we don’t do it.