Like most northern lawyers, I have little call to become embroiled in the doings of the deep south.  But as a guy who lives in the suburbs, I can appreciate grass.  Not weed (you didn’t think that, right?), but green, green grass.  Many suburbanites take their lawns very seriously, but apparently not nearly as seriously as the folks in Senatobia, Mississippi.

Via NEMS360, a bit of southern flavor:

A long time ago, Mark Bennett wrote a post about mapping the blogosphere.  It came in partial response to questions about whether the Practical Blawgosphere had grown stagnant, an issue arising among the first wave of bloggers who were feeling the malaise of “been there, done that.” 

Rereading Mark’s post, I grew nostalgic about the blawgers who have come and gone.  Some post occasionally, a flurry of posts here and there, and then disappear again into the mist. 

Aside: To those lawyers who pay to hear about how you simply must blog if you want to have a practice in the digital age, ask yourselves why so many have established well-known, well-respected blawgs, and then walked away from them.  Hint: It’s not because they became so wildly successful they couldn’t take on another client.

I came to the blawgosphere in the second wave.  There were well-established blawgs by lawyers who had been here from the beginning, and Simple Justice wasn’t one of them.  It took a while to learn who was who, what interested me and which blawgs and blawgers struck me as worthy of engagement.  And I engaged, as did others who came in the second wave like Mark Bennett. 

At first, we were ignored for the most part, the first wavers having seen blogs appear and disappear in the blink of an eye.  Until we showed that we were serious about being part of the blawgosphere, they wouldn’t bother acknowledging our existence, In time, dialogue ensued.  Sometimes friendly conversation. Sometimes argument. Sometimes downright acrimony. But there was life.  The blawgosphere was anything but stagnant.

It’s been almost five years since then.  And I’ve again noticed friends and enemies who have quietly faded away.  More importantly, the noise has died out, gone silent at times, and those times became more frequent. This past week, two posts at Kevin O’Keefe’s Real Lawyers Have Blogs brought some issues home.

The first was a peculiar post about trust, that establishing trust required citing and sharing with other blawgs.  Kevin’s gig is Lexblog, a turnkey blogging operation for lawyers. The continued vitality of the blawgosphere is crucial for the continued vitality of his business.  What made this post peculiar is that Kevin cited to some others who were long considered the poster boys for what was wrong with the blawgosphere, schemers whose claim to trust was an inside joke.

I took this post as Kevin’s way of telling his disciples to stop existing in their marketing isolation.  While there are a handful of Lexblog clients who had become part of the blawgosphere, the vast majority were completely unknown and ignored.  They never linked to anyone else. They never engaged in discussion, whether happy or angry. They just did their pro forma thing the way some marketing guru told them to, hoping that one of their 27 readers needed to hire a lawyer. 

The second post was by someone named Neil O’Shaunessy, who apparently blogged for Dell for a few minutes.  He wrote a post about how to write good posts, an irony if ever there was one.  It was as simplistic as could be, but apparently necessary for many of Kevin’s Lexblog clients because, well, their posts were awful.  Even someone who so utterly lacked any qualifications on how to write good posts as O’Shaunessy could make it better. That’s how bad it was.

Unlike most readers here, I occasionally check out Kevin’s Lexblog clients.  He has a feature, usually done by his son, Colin, called the Best of Lexblog, highlighting some of the posts by his client blogs.  The feature is truly awful, like a mother telling the other women how beautiful her baby is.  If you have to tell them, that baby must be butt ugly.  And indeed, most of the posts highlighted by Colin are butt ugly.

I know that Kevin wants them all to have the depth and interest of Dan Harris’ China Law Blog, the verve and wit of Staci Riordan’s FashionLaw Blog, or even the attitude of Max Kennerly’s  Litigation & Trial Law Blog.  But they don’t.  They are formulaic, safe, boring and isolated.  This is what comes of using blogs as marketing devices.

Some fear that links to others will send away their few readers to another blog that is smarter, better, more interesting, and they will never gain their business.  Some fear that if their writing comes under scrutiny by their peers, it will be revealed as insipid drivel.  That’s because it is insipid drivel.  Still others fear that they can manufacture strawmen that will appeal to the insane and stupid, if only they can maintain plausible deniability.  And they are happy to take money from the insane and stupid, as long as they’re offering.

There have been some new blawgs and blawgers recently, and contrary to the fears of those who missed the second wave, good idea and good writing continue to be embraced by those who didn’t.  This doesn’t mean that blawgers who came before you will agree with you.  We rarely agree with anybody, and never all the time. But we respect you, and welcome you as a solid voice in the blawgosphere. But there hasn’t been the consistency, the engagement, that’s needed to keep this place alive.

It’s begun to feel more like punditry than a conversation.  While those who can’t withstand scrutiny like it that way, real lawyers don’t .  It’s all about the conversation, whether happy, angry, or just pleasantly disagreeable.  Without it, this place is a bore.  At least for me.  And if it’s boring, then it’s not worth the effort.

Like Kevin, I’ve tried to nudge others to take stands, do something meaningful, write as if they give a damn, engage with the larger blawgosphere, and tell the marketing gurus to shove their lies where the sun doesn’t shine.  But the question remains, will the third wave want to join the blawgosphere, or is this only about existing in their marketing isolation.  If the latter, then the blawgosphere will not survive.

Lawyers make lousy defendants.  They can’t keep their nose out of things, and they have the darndest time letting go.  But eventually, every criminal defendant has to make a choice of whether to stand firm and assert his innocence, and face the great void of uncertainty that comes with it, or cop out. 

Les Jacobs is no different.  Via the Cleveland Plain Dealer :

Jacobs, 66, of Gates Mills, is accused of under-reporting his income from the Thompson Hine law firm by more than $250,000 from 2004 to 2007. That resulted in the underpayment of about $75,000 in income taxes.

Jacobs is a Harvard Law School graduate and the former president of the Ohio State Bar Association. He was recently named the 2012 Cleveland Litigation-Antitrust Lawyer of the Year by the Best Lawyers in America publication.

Jacobs has worked for Thompson Hine for 43 years, and is a senior partner in the firm’s Competition, Antitrust and White-Collar Crime practice group. He laments in his letter that “we live in an era when a legal problem for even the most obscure lawyer seems to provoke public interest.”

Les Jacobs was a lion of the bar, the sort of lawyer who gets named to blue-ribbon committees, who commands the respect of lesser lawyers who someday hope to be like him.  And apparently, a lawyer who screwed around with his taxes. It’s not inexpensive to live like a lion in Ohio.  And the story doesn’t even mention that he was past president of the Ohio Bar Association.  A lion. Roar.

One might think that as a lawyer with 43 years experience practicing white-collar crime, Les Jacobs would have a pretty firm grasp on how best to handle such matters as a plea.  You see, Jacobs pleaded guilty, and quickly found out why lawyers make lousy defendants.

Cleveland lawyer Leslie “Les” Jacobs pleaded guilty to a federal tax charge Wednesday after an exchange with a prosecutor over a letter Jacobs sent to friends, colleagues and clients about his case.

At a hearing in U.S. District Court, Assistant U.S. Attorney John Siegel took issue with the letter, which he said was worded in a way that could leave people with the impression Jacobs hadn’t done anything wrong and was coerced into pleading guilty.

Jacobs said he regretted that his words had been misconstrued.

There is a laundry list of things one shouldn’t do if you’re going to seek a downward departure based on acceptance of responsibility.  At the top of the list is denying responsibility. In writing.

The Oct. 10 letter, a copy of which was obtained this week by The Plain Dealer, characterizes Jacobs’ legal problems as resulting from a four-year dispute with the Internal Revenue Service over tax returns.

“The reason I write now is that I have reached a point where continued debate is pointless,” he states in the letter. “The government has been relentless; the levels of hostility and mutual recriminations have escalated in intensity; and the stress for [wife] Laurie and me has become intolerable.”

And so what?  Is he pleading guilty because he is guilty, and accepting responsibility for breaking the law, or is he capitulating to the overwhelming might, the “hostility and mutual recrimination,” of a relentless government? 

This is the nature of federal practice, and you would think that Les Jacobs knows this well enough not to screw up his deal.  A critical element of a plea under the sentencing guidelines is the acceptance of responsibility, and you can’t ask for it while claiming that your plea isn’t based upon your guilt, but rather succumbing to the stress and pointlessness of fighting.  You can’t have it both ways.

Jacobs claim is that his letter is being misconstrued.  That’s unlikely to win him any friends in the courtroom.  It’s far more credible that Jacobs is trying to salvage his lost dignity, to not appear as a disgrace to his friends and colleagues. Heck, he just won some lawyer of the year prize by the Best Lawyer in America.  Now you know how much that crap is worth.

Maybe Jacobs was in a financial hole, and he skirted the law to try to dig his way out.  Maybe he just can’t come to grips with the fact that his great lion roar is faded to a whimper.  Maybe he truly believes he did nothing wrong, but can’t face the uncertainty of trial and isn’t inclined to take the chance.  For all I know, his wrong wasn’t so wrong, and he just doesn’t have what it takes to stare at the jury foreman at the end of a trial.

But none of this, true as it may be, changes what he should also know as a 43 year lawyer who was the head of a white-collar crime department.  You can’t deny responsibility if you want the break at sentence.  And at the moment, there should be nothing more important to Les Jacob than getting the lowest possible sentence on his plea.  But then, lawyers make lousy defendants.

Why is unreliable eyewitness identification any different from unreliable anything else?

“I understand you have very good empirical evidence which should lead us all to wonder about the reliability of eyewitness testimony,” Justice Elena Kagan told Richard Guerriero, a lawyer for Barion Perry, a New Hampshire man convicted of theft based in part on the testimony of a woman who said she saw him from a distance late at night.

Very good empirical evidence doesn’t begin to cover it. There is no single piece of evidence that has been subject to as much scrutiny as eyewitness identifications, and the empirical evidence is overwhelming, beyond dispute, whether reasonable or not, that it’s uniquely unreliable and singularly persuasive.  If nothing else, it’s clear that unreliable eyewitness identifications contributed to 75% of wrongful convictions. 

So what does a court, in order to protect the due process of individuals hauled before it and subjected to the potential of imprisonment, maybe even death, do about this ridiculously unreliable and persuasive piece of evidence?

Most of the justices did not seem inclined to order a hearing in such circumstances, in part because of the lack of a limiting principle. Why stop with eyewitness evidence that was the product of suggestion? Why stop with eyewitness evidence at all?

Mr. Guerriero responded that eyewitness evidence is “probably the leading cause of miscarriages of justice” and should be treated with special care.

But Justice Kagan said the problems with such evidence may not be unique.

“Eyewitness testimony is not the only kind of testimony which people can do studies on and find that it’s more unreliable than you would think,” Justice Kagan said.

So it’s not the only unreliable evidence?

“What about all the other safeguards that you have?” she asked. “You can ask the judge to tell the jury, ‘Be careful; eyewitness testimony is often unreliable.’ You can point that out in cross-examination.”

“You can say something about it in your summation to the jury,” she went on, adding that the rules of evidence, as opposed to the Constitution, also allow the exclusion of some kinds of unreliable evidence.

“Why aren’t all those safeguards enough?” Justice Ginsburg asked.

The question may have been posed as a rhetorical, but there’s a very good answer.  Because it’s failed to suffice forever. Because part of the mythology is that eyewitness testimony is the best, most certain assurance around.  Because judges don’t allow lawyers to argue without evidence presented to the jury, and they won’t allow defense lawyers to present empirical evidence that isn’t directly material.  Because this doesn’t happen in the real world the way Supreme Court justices imagine it should.

The justices also mused about other forms of evidence and information, including fingerprints, DNA, crystal balls, tea leaves and information obtained through torture. But they seemed persuaded by a lawyer for the federal government, Nicole A. Saharsky, who argued in support of state prosecutors in the case.

“Taking the question of reliability away from the jury,” Ms. Saharsky said, “would be a very big change in our system.”

Exactly, except Nicole Saharsky isn’t arguing against the admission of unreliable evidence, but for it.  The state is arguing for the power to convict based on evidence that is empirically known to be terribly unreliable because it knows that it’s the most certain way to convict a defendant.  It’s as if she argued that if the court takes away her unreliable evidence, she’ll never be able to convict anyone of a crime, the guilty as well as the innocent. 

The argument before the Supreme Court laid out exactly what one would have expected, hoped for.  The proof of unreliability was accepted, as it could not be denied.  The impact was recognized, as it could not be denied.  And the justices embraced it, as they could do nothing else.

And yet, the justices were completely, utterly unmoved.

Assuming defense counsel is permitted to argue to the jury, even in the absence of testimony to support the argument, that eyewitness identification is inherently unreliable, it flies in the face of what everyone knows, what everyone believes, that there is no evidence more damning.  There is nothing with greater emotional force than a victim who says, with voice quivering, eyes fixed, that she will never forget that face.  There is no juror who watches this scenario play out whose heart is so cold, mind so clear, that she can say to herself, but this isn’t true.

And that’s why we need an appellate court, a cold, rational group of justices, to save us from a universal belief that’s overwhelmingly appealing, and utterly wrong, protect the integrity of our process, the uphold the due process of every individual subject to conviction, from the ubiquity of unreliable evidence.  Because that’s what courts exist to do, and our Supreme Court would never fail us so miserably. 

And if Justice Scalia’s view pervails, all unreliable evidence will fall with it, as no rational judge could ever suggest that our legal system should embrace outcomes based on unreliable evidence.

It’s time for a special edition of the reader’s mailbag.  Why?  Well, just because.

Dear Nice Friends,

Hello.  If you are receiving this email, then it probably means that you and I have at some point discussed books, or law, or books about law, or some other thing.  We are also not facebook friends (or maybe we are facebook friends, but I fear that you have long, long ago blocked my messages from coming anywhere near you).  I hope you will excuse this short, one-time message to let you know that my new book, The Odd Clauses: Understanding the Constitution Through Ten of its Most Curious Provisions, has just been published by Beacon Press.  As the title suggests, the book is about a bunch of lesser known constitutional clauses that are nonetheless interesting and important.  As the first two paragraphs put it:

The Constitution of the United States contains some of the most powerful and well-known legal provisions in the history of the world.  The First Amendment, for example, gives us the right to speak our minds without government interference.  The Equal Protection Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment stops the state from discriminating against us because of our race or gender.  And the Fourth Amendment, as our television crime dramas constantly remind us, prevents the police from searching our homes without a warrant. In the past twenty years, I would bet that several hundred books have been written about these important clauses, and for good reason.  This book, however, is not one of them.

Instead, this book will shine a much-deserved light on some of the Constitution’s lesser-known clauses—its benchwarmers, its understudies, its unsung heroes, its crazy uncles.  To put it another way, if the Constitution were a zoo, and the First, Fourth, and Fourteenth Amendments were a lion, a giraffe, and a panda bear, respectively, then this book is about the Constitution’s shrews, wombats, and bat-eared foxes.  And believe me, if you’ve never laid eyes on a bat-eared fox before, you are in for a treat. 

Just so you know, the book makes a great stocking stuffer.  Provided, however, that the stocking we are talking about is rather on the largish side, and that the book is the only thing you plan to stuff into it. 

A SPECIAL NOTE FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO ARE FAMOUS:  You look terrific today!  Is that a new hairdo/pair of eyeglasses/nose?  As you probably know, the slightest whisper from you can make all the difference between a book that soars to the top of the bestsellers list and one, like my first book, that sort of quietly disappears into the twilight.   A generous mention on your facebook page to your 4,683 fans.  A small word to Jon Stewart during a commercial break.  The tiniest of tweets (I’m talking to you here, Shaq).  Throw me a crumb, won’t you?

A SPECIAL SPECIAL NOTE TO THOSE OF YOU IN THE MEDIA: Forget the famous people, you are the ones that really make things happen.  Say no more.  (call me.)

Thank you for your time,

Jay

Jay Wexler
Professor of Law
Boston University

In contrast to the very important self-proclaimed scholars and thoughts leaders, Jay is just a fun guy who happens to teach law.  Even when he posts at PrawfsBlawg, he’s funny. Even then very first time I stumbled across Jay, he was funny.   So I’m thinking, maybe his book is funny? 

I didn’t read his first book, but that’s because he never sent me a review copy and it’s not like I would ever pay for a book written by a lawprof, even a funny one.  If he sends me this new one for review, I will give serious consideration to reading it.  But having received and read this email, I’m seriously afraid of the book being a terrible letdown.  I would hate to watch Jay spiral into the abyss of scholarship and lose all respect for him. 

I immediately dashed off an email to Stewart about the book, but have yet to hear back.

On to other matters.  When I saw the headline come across my RSS readers, Your An Idiot, I immediately dashed off an email to Radley Balko:

You might want to change the title from “Your” to “You’re” given that you’re a big time professional HuffPo writer and all.

I then read the post and, after due deliberation, realized that I completely missed the point and sent another email retracting my first email, hoping that Balko would be a gentle, understanding soul and appreciate my good intentions.  He replied:

I will refrain from making a snarky reply. Except for sending this email noting that I am refraining from making a snarky reply.

This puts to rest the myth that libertarians have no self-control.  I appreciate Balko’s demonstration of enormous restraint.

The New York Times has an  editorial today about the Cooper and Frye cases,  argued yesterday to the Supreme Court.

Defendants offered plea deals need effective counsel to ensure that their decisions are well founded and voluntary, not coerced. Under the Sixth Amendment, the Supreme Court said last year, a plea is legitimate only if a defendant has had assistance of counsel while considering it.

The state brought the case to the Supreme Court, arguing that Mr. Frye should serve the sentence he was given because he voluntarily pleaded guilty. It contends that since there is no right to a plea bargain, the lawyer’s failure to communicate the offer did not deprive Mr. Frye of any constitutional right. The Supreme Court should reject this bad analysis, which the Justice Department unwisely supports. The lawyer’s inexcusable failure to inform Mr. Frye of the plea offer affected the legal process and deprived him of a critical choice.

While the editorial lays blame on the government, and implores the Supremes to reject “this bad analysis,” it largely overlooks the most important factor in fulfilling the constitutional guarantee of effective assistance of counsel.  The lawyers representing Cooper and Frye sucked.

If the lawyers did their job adequately, there would be no issue to be argued, no debate as to whether courts should regulate the plea bargaining process.  Bear in mind, we’re talking about such minimal competence as to meet the criteria of Strickland v. Washington, a case that says sleeping lawyers are all the Constitution requires. And still, lawyers can’t manage to meet this bar.

In a comment to my analysis of the issues, an important point was made by Thomas Stephenson :

All this is interesting, but how do we regulate low-bid and court-appointed lawyers strong-arming their clients into taking the state’s first offer?

Without getting caught up in denials and details, Thomas’ question hits on a dirty little secret of criminal defense.  Many criminal defense lawyers take on cases with the intention from the outset of disposing of them as quickly as possible.  It’s awfully easy to persuade a defendant, someone who has put their life in a lawyer’s hands, to cop a plea. 

We can scare them. We can rationalize the choice. We can convince them to plead guilty.  And it’s done so that the fee is earned, the case is over and the lawyer can move on to the next fee as the defendant is shuffled into the pens, never to be heard from again.

The Cooper and Frye cases ask the question of what to do after the lawyer blows it.  The hard reality is that the law has never been capable of coming up with a cure for every wrong mankind can commit.  And despite rumors to the contrary, lawyers are included in mankind.  We love to hold ourselves out as saviors, heroes to the cause, champions of justice.  We are lying to ourselves and others when we fail to serve our clients.

How hard is it to inform a client of a plea offer?  There is no excuse, none, ever, to not fully and properly inform our clients of such things.  And then there’s the flip side, the selling out of clients to rid ourselves of work once the fee is in our pocket.  Honest and accurate assessment and advice is our obligation, yet we abuse the trust to get the client off our back.  And they never know about it, as we smile, emote, feel their pain and sell them out.

The point has been made in discussing legal fees, where a lawyer charges a fraction for representation of another lawyer.  Do the math.  How many hours does that fee cover?  Not enough to win the case? Then the lawyer plans to plead you out, and has no intention of fighting.  Many lawyers see a case as a quick plea.  That’s just not what they tell the defendant, because if they did, no one would hire them. The numbers don’t lie.

Regardless of what the Supreme Court rules in Cooper and Frye, or what they fail to rule in the case of a quick plea that sells out a defendant who never knew that he stood no chance, there is no reason for this issue to ever arise.  It exists because we, those of us who undertake to represent defendants in criminal cases, fail. 

The law can’t provide an adequate solution, but we can.  Work harder. Be honest. Put your client first, even if it means you have to take a financial hit because you made a lousy deal.  Put your personal philosophies and your bizarre legal theories aside.  These are all about you, not the client. Put the client first and these problems disappear. 

The law isn’t so difficult that you couldn’t possibly manage to provide competent representation  And if it is, then get the hell out of criminal defense.  You have no right to make a living as a lawyer if you can’t deliver. Sorry you wasted that time and money on law school, but that’s how it goes.  As long as you are a lawyer, fulfill the obligation you undertook to your client and don’t expect a judge to make up for it afterward.  The obligation to the defendant is yours.  The law is just a blunt stopgap, and it will never be sufficient to overcome your failings.

Make the effort.  Just do better.

For all their bluff and swagger, the readers of  Above the Law aren’t stupid.  The fact that they don’t look to the  Lawyerist for clues on how to become a gainfully employed lawyer proves it.  Sure, they spend their days trying to dream up the snarkiest ridicule, to prove who within the community is the wittiest, but that’s how sophomoric communities work.

Working lawyers pay little attention to such nonsense, as their manhood isn’t connected to how many “likes” they get and, well, they’re busy working cases and making money.  The little snarkers secretly wish they have worthwhile things to consume their empty days, but they will never admit their feelings of inadequacy. To do so would bring ridicule from the community, depriving them of their only comfort.

There was a shift in the force when David Lat and his robot overlords at Breaking Media persuaded Mark Herrmann to write a column about his experience as in-house counsel.  Few people noticed, as their attention was diverted by the anchors dragging ATL down at the same time.  Jay Shepherd. Some gal who was so ashamed of herself that she only used her first name, Valerie.  And Adrian Dayton, the poor Paris Hilton of twitter, left to stand alone when even @Rex7 realized he needed a job to eat. 

The readers at ATL, for all the snark they could muster, realized something. Mark Herrmann, unlike the others, was real. He was what many hoped they could someday be, a successful, respected lawyer. As they grew to ignore the insipid writers, Herrmann delivered a world they could only see from a great distance, the world of real lawyers. 

This shift reflected the reality behind the children’s playground antics, that they really want to be lawyers but just don’t know how. Law school certainly didn’t teach them enough, and their infantile arrogance precludes any mentor from wasting time around them.  They pretend to have great futures as Masters of the Biglaw Universe, knowing only too well that they hate their contract work and will never get a corner office. They are scared.

And in a gesture of love, Elie Mystal and David Lat have thrown them a life preserver.  They have brought aboard the newest ATL columnist who, like Mark Herrmann, is a real lawyer who has the experience and knowledge to provide insight to the world of lawyering they would otherwise never know.  No, it doesn’t spell the end of gossip, lurid images and sophomoric sex jokes.  Those are the things that hold the community together, their common bond like a transitional Teddy Bear.

In a column underwhelmingly called “The Practice,” the new columnist is  Brian Tannebaum.

Brian gains nothing from this gig.  The “fee for service” won’t pay for key lime pie to be shipped up north to a deserving recipient.  He will not get a client.  Then again, he doesn’t need to post on the internet to get clients, to the chagrin of those whose lives are dedicated to convincing busy lawyers that they cannot succeed unless they do so.  The readers can’t grasp this, as they can’t conceive of a universe where they aren’t the center. They imagine that it’s their allure that brings real lawyers to ATL, to seek their approval and adoration. But in their hearts, they know that while it may be true of others, it’s not the case for Tannebaum.

I knew of Tannebaum’s decision to join ATL in advance of his first column.  He was reluctant.  He has too much work to do, too many clients to represent.  To spend time writing something that might actually improve their understanding of life and law is a time suck he couldn’t really afford.  And, the big question: Are these sniveling, snarky whiners worth the effort?

Brian asked me what I thought. He explained his dilemma. I told him that he certainly had strong and valid reasons not to do a column at ATL.  He’s too busy, and client come first.  He has no use for the “notoriety,” unlike Jay Shepherd, who needed a springboard from inconsequential lawyer to social media consultant.  He makes no pretense of being a great writer, having a tendency to use the wrong word, tense, punctuation and spelling, and here he would be writing for the failed law review wonks who are thrilled to pick apart grammar rather than admit their misery.

“No, Brian,” I said, “there’s no reason in the world why you should waste your time on this fool’s errand.”

But Brian found one reason, that if he didn’t find the time, make the effort, give it a try, then these pathetic little misfits would have no one offering any insight into the real, hard, cold world of the small firm/solo lawyer.  Shitlaw, as the readers refer to it.  Shitlaw, if only they could figure out how to do it successfully, and enjoy the practice and life that could be theirs if they don’t screw it all up.

There were a lot of comments to Brian’s introductory post.  Some are funny.  Some are typical nonsense. Some demonstrate that their authors lack the insight to grasp basic ideas.  One called it “ironic” that Brian would use social media to bash it. This one has no chance and should get his papers in for the assistant manager job at Dairy Queen immediately.

But there was also a surprising undercurrent of recognition that these desperate little wise-asses realize that this Stetson Law grad, this guy whose grammar makes one cringe, has what they secretly dream of having someday.  They can make fun of his appearance, his writing, his lack of Biglaw credentials all they want. Brian couldn’t care less. He has a damn fine practice, and he’s got the respect of real lawyers.  They have neither.

And there’s no one who can dish it out, or take it, like Brian.  I suspect the smarter ones at ATL know only too well that they finally have someone who’s got the goods, and while they will continue their snarky ways, they will read what he writes and learn from Tannebaum.  They have much to learn from his charity, and it’s up to them to decide whether Tannebaum is on a fool’s errand.

Knox County, Tennessee, Sheriff Jimmy “J.J.” Jones understands what it means to wear a shield.  From WBIR :

Knox County Sheriff Jimmy “J.J.” Jones said the officers violated departmental policies and procedures during the traffic stop.

According to the investigation, the officers’ actions were unauthorized and not approved. A complaint was made to the Office of Professional Standards.  When it was determined that one of the deputies was Brad Cox, whose father is Captain Tom Cox, who oversees the Office of Professional Standards, the complaint was then forwarded to Lieutenant Mark Webber of the Major Crimes Unit to investigate.

Jones named the five officers and provided dash cam video of what they did before anybody asked.

“This is an embarrassing incident to the Sheriff’s Office and certainly is not indicative of the men and women who work hard and are very professional,” said Sheriff Jones. “I am releasing this information before any media inquiries because I think it’s important for us to be open and honest.”

What happened isn’t entirely clear, except that the five patrol officers decided to play with some kids who were speeding.  After stopping a car with three males and two females, Officer Brian Rehg has a chat with the 19 year old unnamed driver.

You can hear one of the officers speaking to the driver of the car.  He asks him if he’d like one ticket for speeding or three tickets for speeding, reckless driving, and drag racing.  The driver says one ticket.  The officer replies that another officer has a proposition for him, and if he does it well, he’ll get one ticket.  At that time, it appears the officers turned off their mics, because there is no further sound.  It is unclear what the proposition was because you cannot hear it or see the driver or his passengers on the recording.  You can see the officers appear to be watching something and laughing.  At one point on one of the recordings, you see one of the young men run in front of the patrol car.  A few minutes later, the driver and his passengers are seen getting back into the car and driving off.

It’s critical to note that there is nothing to suggest anyone was beaten or tased.  While the story offers no clue what the proposition might have been, there’s no reason to believe that any notable harm was done to any of the five young people in the car.  Yet rather than toss it off as some cop prank, Sheriff Jones was outraged by the unprofessional, unlawful and completely improper conduct of his officers, one of whom was the son of a police Captain who oversaw the department’s Office of Professional Standards.

With unfortunate frequency, stories appear of police impropriety, glossed over by meaningless claims of department policy or promises of investigations that are never mentioned again.  Almost never are the police officers who stood by and did nothing to stop impropriety by their blue brothers subject to scrutiny, no less discipline.

And the one thing that we never hear about is the big guy taking the initiative to clean up a mess in his own home, police misconduct almost invariably being concealed unless and until someone from the outside with sufficient clout makes a major stink of it.

Sheriff Jimmy “J.J.” Jones’ actions in recognizing, disclosing and addressing what happened in his department, and thus making it abundantly clear that it will not be tolerated under his watch, is an extraordinary act of integrity. 

There is one question, however, that’s a bit nagging.  The discipline for these five officers wasn’t discharge, but busting them down to the bottom rung of law enforcement.

Based on your decision to directly violate Departmental Policy and Procedures, as well as violating Merit Council Rules: 9.3a: Failure to meet performance requirements, 9.3d: Incompetence, inefficient and negligence in the performance of duty, and 9.3g: Notoriously disgraceful personal conduct, I have made the decision to strip you of your Law Enforcement powers and demote you from the position of Patrol Officer to a Correction Officer effective immediately.”

So rather than have these officers on the road dealing with people where their conduct is observable by others, and recorded by dash cam, you’re going to put them into the jail where they will be dealing with prisoners, with no outsider observing and where no claim of impropriety can be verified.  And now they’re angry.  What could possibly go wrong?

Update:  Via Radley Balko, the  Knox News provides a description of the what happened when the mic went off.

[The 19-year-old driver} Phillips cooperated with the officers, consenting to a search of the Acura and responding respectfully. Officers cursed at him and produced a baseball bat, then made a proposition — the reckless driving and drag racing charges would be dropped if Phillips pulled off a stunt with the bat. With the bat perpendicular to the ground, the officers made Phillips put his forehead on the end and run in circles until he became dizzy. Then officers made him run around a cruiser without falling down.

After completing the humiliating task, Phillips was sent on his way with a speeding ticket.

No blood.  No guts. No rape or pillage.  And still Sheriff Jones wasn’t putting up with it.

The  facile quote comes from Stephanos Bibas, a University of California law professor:

In his article in The California Law Review, Professor Bibas wrote that plea bargaining is a market that requires supervision. “It is astonishing,” he wrote, “that a $100 credit card purchase of a microwave oven is regulated more carefully than a guilty plea that results in years of imprisonment.”

That’s certainly true, but provides absolutely no guidance for the court in fashioning a rule or remedy, and therein lies the big issue in Lafler v. Cooper, to be argued before the Supreme Court.  Cooper and its companion case, Missouri v. Frye, involve bad plea bargain advice that prevented the defendants from copping out, to their detriment.

As Adam Liptak puts it:

Anthony Cooper shot a woman in Detroit in 2003 and then received laughably bad legal advice. Because all four of his bullets had struck the victim below her waist, his lawyer said, Mr. Cooper could not be convicted of assault with intent to murder.

You know how juries are always rational and predictable, so no problem going to trial.  Except Cooper was convicted and sentenced to 15 to 30, instead of the 4 to 7 he could have had.

At least Mr. Cooper heard about his plea offer. Galin E. Frye’s lawyer never told him that prosecutors in Missouri were willing to let him plead guilty to a misdemeanor and serve 90 days in prison for driving without a license. When Mr. Frye did plead guilty after the offer expired, he was sentenced to three years.

The cases involves two issues, one that doesn’t seem much of a stretch and another that presents a very significant problem.  The first is whether bad plea bargain advice falls within Strickland at all, since the guarantee is effective assistance at trial, not at plea.  The argument is that the second prong, prejudice, can’t be met since no defendant is guaranteed a plea offer anyway.

Last year, 97 percent of convictions in federal courts were the result of guilty pleas. In 2006, the last year for which data was available, the corresponding percentage in state courts was 94.

The courts below had no problem holding that competence applies to all critical stages, and the Padilla v. Kentucky certainly provided strong support for the proposition. 

A brief from New York University’s Center on the Administration of Criminal Law urged the justices to consider what it called “the inherently coercive and asymmetric confrontation between prosecutor and defendant,” one in which the assistance of a competent defense lawyer is vital. More than half of federal offenders sentenced in 2009 had not completed high school, the brief said; only 5 percent had completed college.

Without the lawyer doing his job of advising a defendant properly as to the efficacy of a plea bargain, most defendants will be screwed.  It’s no stretch to argue that prejudice is suffered when a four year deal is lost to 15 years because the lawyer blew it.  But the much harder issue is what to do about it.

The defense argues that the remedy is to return the defendants to the status quo ante, allowing them the opportunity to accept the plea bargain they were denied by their lawyers ineffective assistance.  On its face, a very reasonable outcome.

The prosecution, however, raises the perpetual specter of lawyer and criminal colluding to get a free ride at trial.

A federal judge in Mr. Cooper’s case tried to roll back the clock, requiring officials to offer him the initial deal or release him.

That allowed Mr. Cooper, convicted of shooting a woman, “to play with house money,” Bill Schuette, the Michigan attorney general, told the justices in a brief in Lafler v. Cooper. Mr. Cooper could take his chances at trial and, if he lost, insist on the rejected plea deal, he said.

The fear is that after a full jury trial, and conviction, the lawyer says, “Oops, I forgot to let the defendant know about the plea offer of 17 minutes incarceration. My bad, judge.”  Since there no official set of ears listening in on the communication between lawyer and client, there’s no one to dispute neglected or horribly wrong advice.  Or, in the case of a lawyer and client deciding to beat the system, collusion to give defendant a trial without risk. 

At SCOTUSBlog, the problem is summed up:

The states and their amici suggest that adoption of the lower courts’ approach will discourage pleas, encourage collusion between defendants and their counsel, and open the floodgates to post-conviction or post-guilty plea appeals and habeas petitions.  The defendants and their amici argue that the parade of horribles is unrealistic, that collusion is unlikely given legal ethics rules, and that effective counsel is crucial to the integrity of the plea process, particularly given that prosecutors possess significantly more information than defendants during plea negotiations. (Emphasis added.)

Will “ethical rules” eliminate the collusion problem?  It’s certainly done wonders for deceptive internet marketing.  My take is that while the problem raised by the prosecution with what would otherwise clearly be the appropriate remedy, the court cannot systemically rule that criminal defense lawyers, as opposed to prosecutors or any other discrete group of lawyers, are so inclined to violate their ethical obligations that a rule is fashioned that presumes unethical conduct.  Unless they court is prepared to do the same for prosecutors when it comes to Brady.

Many of the problems can be cured by formalizing the plea bargaining process, such as putting offers in writing or on the record in the defendant’s presence. Of course, this wouldn’t stop the hypothetical offers (Prosecutor: if I were to offer your client 1 to 3, would he take it?) or affect the negotiation process, at least it would prevent what happened to Frye, where the defendant never knew an offer was made,

As for bad advice by the criminal defense lawyer, if the court comes up with a solution to that, we can all rejoice.  With the bar as low as it is, and the general concern being far more about whether Mr. Green will show up than whether a client is competently advised, the problem goes far beyond the horribles of plea bargains. 

And lest anyone note that it’s not just defense lawyers, it’s most assuredly not.  But since the Supreme Court is overwhelmingly protective of prosecutors, so that they shouldn’t get so nervous when they violate defendant’s constitutional rights that they forget to be brave with heinous murderers, it wouldn’t hurt to give a small fraction of their belief in the integrity of lawyers to the guys and gals at the other table in the well.  It’s not the defendants fault that lawyers aren’t always what they should be.  While it’s a sound argument that they should suffer for their deeds, they shouldn’t suffer their lawyer’s incompetence.

Update: It seems like oral argument  didn’t go too well for the defendants.

Asking judges to go back and figure out on appeal whether a suspect would have taken a plea deal before a trial, whether a judge would have accepted it, whether a prosecutor would have withdrawn it or whether the negotiations would have fallen apart “is simply unworkable,” said Justice Anthony Kennedy, who is often a tiebreaker votes on divisive issues.

And it gets worse.

Several justices seemed concerned about how changing the plea system would affect prosecutors and judges. For example, it’s easy for a criminal facing a decade in prison to say he would have taken a plea deal for one year after a judge has sentenced him to 10 years in prison, justices noted.

But the negotiations are going on before trial, and by “not accepting it he has a chance of going scot-free” if a jury finds him not guilty, Chief Justice John Roberts said.

After conviction and sentencing, Roberts said, “presumably the defendant will always say, ‘I would have taken that deal, because it’s better.’ So how is a judge supposed to go back and decide whether that’s true or not” on appeal?

Of course, if it’s in writing, or in open court, well then we wouldn’t have to guess. But then, I wasn’t arguing the case, now was I?

The link from Ed at  Blawg Review bore a lot of similarities to my ongoing twitter campaign to smack KitchenAid for its failure to fix my new fridge, which is getting less new even as we speak.  It came from a blog ignominiously called Inbound Internet Marketing Blog, and I get the shudders just typing those words.

Written by Jeanne Hopkins, the post was entitled Complaining Via Twitter? Don’t Expect Much. It seems I’m not the first to try and see whether the utility of social media is all the faux social media pundits claim it is.