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For $50 I Will

While there have been a few new entrants into the blawgosphere of late who have done a bang up job, solid thought and interesting content contributing to the vitality of this ongoing peer-reviewed discussion of the law and legal system, most have been barely concealed (if at all) attempts at playing the social media game, followed by a joyous rush to the bank..

But when I read  Carolyn Elefant’s post about paying it forward to law students, who could really use a hand these days, something struck me:


If you’re a busy solo, as the year comes to a close you probably have a bunch of projects that you’d hoped to accomplish in 2010, but that still remain on the back burner…Well, why not give yourself a gift and get the work done, and help another lawyer besides by hiring a law student, an unemployed lawyer or even a new solo to do the work for you?


I’m not suggesting that you spend thousands of dollars.  Rather, you could put together a scope of work and assign a fair price – maybe $50 for help with a blog post, or $250 for a fully researched article. 


Should we be paying $50 to a law student for a blog post?  Aside from the ghostwriter problem, which Carolyn says wasn’t what she had in mind, there’s the question of why anyone, any lawyer, would pay any other person for help with a blog post.  There seems to be only one answer:  Blog posts are part of a lawyer’s social media marketing campaign.  It’s a money maker, a profit center, your new Yellow Pages ad.

So this is just another means of marketing?  Then what the heck have I been doing here?

I responded to Carolyn’s post by saying that I would be happy to get $50 per post, given that I’ve been doing all this posting for all this time for free.  I don’t charge anyone to read what I write, not that anyone would be interested in paying.  As I’ve said before, I write for my own sake, not yours.

And yet how many hundreds of times have my posts been interpreted, and motives impugned, by those who have no comprehension how anyone could conceivably do this, write a blog, for any purpose other than to make money.  I may not write for that purpose, but I’m awfully tired of feeling like an idiot for writing for the hell of it, and yet having to explain, ad nauseam, that the motives that drive the desperate and mercenary aren’t universal.

So $50 for some out of work kid to do your blog post?  Will you make $50 per blog post?  Will you make $100, so you can get a return on your investment?  Except for very few, whether because they’re in a peculiar market or niche, the answer is nope.  There’s nothing to be made here.  Just keep walking.

A couple of years ago, I wrote posts for some other online publications, for which I was adequately compensated.  But they were under my name, and reflected my editorial content.  They weren’t blawgs, and I was happy enough to scribble off some paid content.  I like to write. I like to write even better when someone pays me to do so. 

While I realize Carolyn didn’t mean it this way, her inclusion of $50 for a blog posts reveals that she’s bought into the whole marketing scheme, that there’s a monetary value worth putting into social media because there’s an expectation that there’s money to make from it.  If a person is writing a blog just to write, or to take part in a grand discussion, then the notion of paying somebody to do it for you makes no sense.  Only if this is meant to be part of a money making enterprise would it make sense to pay someone.

Maybe it’s because I’m a dinosaur, that I reject both the image of lawyer as streetwalker as well as the reality of strutting my stuff in the hope that I can snag a case via the internet wilds where someone isn’t looking for a free lawyer.  Maybe because my dream is that clients come to me because they’ve been told that I work hard, and give them everything I’ve got.  Maybe it’s clients for whom I’ve won big.  Maybe it’s clients for whom I haven’t, but appreciated that I told them the truth every inch of the way.  But whatever it is, I don’t understand why we’re promoting the idea online that a blog and 52 posts will allow any fool to pretend to be a great lawyer, and that’s a good thing.  For a mere $2,600, you too can be a huge success on the internet.

So if I don’t get it, then it must be my problem.  In the meantime, if anybody wants to pay me $50 per post, I’m here.  Up to now, nobody has paid me a dime to publish a post on SJ.  Seriously, I could be the biggest idiot in the blawgosphere.  It clearly appears that I’m doing something very, very wrong, because I now write for free.



Do It For The Children, Mace Edition

The  Southern Poverty Law Center has filed suit against the Birmingham Board of Education to stop its use of mace against the children in its charge.

The Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) filed a federal class action lawsuit today targeting the use of mace on Birmingham City School children as a means of basic school discipline. The suit was filed on behalf of district students who have been brutalized with chemical weapons and other excessive force. It also seeks to protect other students from these abusive and unconstitutional practices.
If I recall correctly, the alleged potential use of chemical weapons against a vulnerable population sufficed to bring our nation to war.  So should we be concerned when its used by schools to keep its students in line?

“We must ask ourselves:  What kind of school system allows the entry of armed police officers who mace its students? One with a serious illness. One that needs to re-examine its ultimate purpose for existence – educating and protecting its students,” said Ebony Glenn Howard, lead attorney on the case for the Southern Poverty Law Center.
The answer, according to Turley, is a school system that’s “96% African American.”

Conservatives have long campaigned to rid the country of public schools. The public school system is the principal method for members of the lower economic class, often African Americans, to escape to the middle class and beyond. The lack of an education maintains African Americans as lower class citizens. The use of chemical weapons and the accompanying hostility is having the effect of driving African American children out of the school system, preserving the current elite class.


If the public school system is eliminated, only the elite will be able to afford private education for their children, maintaining their current status. The public school system is the keystone in America’s ability to claim it is the land of opportunity.


This is quite an extraordinary indictment of the Birmingham schools, given that it’s long enough that they’ve gotten word that Plessy v. Ferguson has been reversed and even black children get to be educated.  Need I add without fear of chemical weapon attack?

Given the ubiquity of “do it for the children” as an excuse for the imposition of rampant laws designed to inhibit conduct in the name of safety, it mind-boggling to learn that the Birmingham schools are macing their students to keep them in line. 

Do you ever wonder where we would be without Morris Dees?  Do you wonder how many of those who care deeply about the children, the ones who want to create a new crime named after every tragic occurence, will support this suit?

Bailing Assange

It’s facially unseemly that a British judge  refused to set bail for the release of Wikileaks founder Julian Assange.  Certainly the interest in him bears no relation to allegations of unprotected sex by two Swedish women,  dubious on a number of levels, while government officials  called for his prosecution for espionage, and even his assassination. 

Rarely does a case provide a clearer opportunity to test the integrity of the law.

At Head of Legal, former barrister Carl Gardner does what good lawyers do, separates the emotion and hyperbole from the legal issues surrounding Assange’s detention.

I’m not remotely surprised that bail wasn’t granted in this case. The charges of rape and sexual assault are serious ones, but more importantly, Julian Assange is a non-EU national merely visiting the UK, rather than having a home or close relationships here which would prevent him fleeing the jurisdiction. He’s known for moving from country to country. And at today’s hearing he couldn’t or wouldn’t give an address in the UK.

That on its own seems to me to make it difficult for the district judge to grant him bail. A number of famous names came forward to “stand surety” for him by putting up substantial sums to guarantee his reappearance, but there is a tendency, perhaps due to the influence of US crime dramas and the lack of accurate drama or televised reporting of English courts, to think that these decisions are about “posting bail” and that money matters a lot. It’s not as important as that. For a start, not all of those who were prepared to put up money even know Assange. Why should he care about them losing money?

As anarchy seems to be the flavor of the month (even from those still cashing checks from the government), many have put Assange on a pedestal, whether next to Martin Luther or Che Guevera. Such overwrought claims of his good or evil do nothing to assure him a fair shake in the process.

To the Westminster Magistrate, however, Julian Assange should be just another defendant, whose release or detention should depend not on visceral reaction but on the rational weighing of the equities necessary to determine what, if any conditions will assure his return to court. 

While the charges against him can be characterized as “serious,” that’s a subjective assessment that only carries weight in comparison to other charges.  This isn’t murder, nor even a claim of violent rape.  Rather, the women involved engaged in volitional sex, and complain only that Assange went without a condom, thus withdrawing their implicit consent.  Not good at all.  Not too evil in the scheme of things, assuming there’s merit to the claims.

Then there’s the fact that Assange walked into the police station of his own accord.  This is a huge factor in the scheme of flight, distinguishing the individual inclined to run from investigation and prosecution from the individual who voluntarily faces the accusation.  If Julian Assange was inclined to flee to avoid extradition and prosecution, then the time to do so was before walking into the police station.  People who come in on their own should not be presumed a risk of flight.

The most significant factor against Assange was his failure to provide a real address, a rather shocking omission.  While it’s understandable that Assange was disinclined to let potential black ops guys know where to find him, the consequence of denying that bit of critical information to the judge can’t be ignored.  The refusal to provide a real address where, should he fail to appear as required, he can be found is something of a requisite for release.  More to the point, the failure to provide it suggests that he doesn’t want to be found, which makes it very difficult for the magistrate to justify cutting him loose.

While I can’t claim to have a decent feel for either the British legal system or the relative likelihood that Assange would have been given bail but for Wikileaks, there is no question that the decision to detain him for extradition to Sweden appears to be predicated upon the extraneous concerns of his Wikileaks activities rather than for any purported unprotected poking.

It strikes me that the sub rosa context is not the Assange would flee from the charges against him, but from the fear that a hit squad from the United States will capture him in the middle of the night and plop him down in the middle of the southern district of somewhere for prosecution.  It’s funny how we employ extra-legal methods to vindicate our rule of law when it’s proves convenient.  And if that’s Assange’s fear as well, it would hardly make him appear paranoid.

It would prove embarrassing for the Westminster Magistrate to be the guy who cut Assange loose, only to have his disappear into the shadows.  There he was, in their grasp, and some goofy judge with a death wish for his career let him go.  That’s the big picture.

The little picture, however, is that Julian Assange is not an American citizen, and has not engaged in espionage against America by any rational definition.  That won’t stop the onslaught against him from a very angry government, and may well mean that it’s only a matter of time before he finds himself on a plane flying somewhere, whether it’s Sweden or the United States.

Like Carl, I’m not surprised that Assange was detained.  Not because he should have been detained, as there’s little doubt given his decision to subject himself to questioning by the Brits that conditions could be formulated to assure his appearance before the court as required. 

Rather, the lack of surprise stems from taking the safest route, detain him and then he’s guaranteed to be there when needed.  It’s not particularly comforting to know that our British cousins aren’t all that different from us, despite the many years that separate our respective legal traditions. 

The only bright spot, if there is one, is that Julian Assange, while in the custody of the Brits, can’t be whisked away in the middle of the night.  If he somehow finds himself in, say, New Jersey rather than old, his chances for a fair shake aren’t very good.

H/T CharonQC

Green Hearing Shut Down, For Now

In a move that’s as sweepingly cynical as it is desperate, Harris County District Attorney Pat Lykos has gotten the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals, on its second bite, to shut down the hearing in the capital case of John Green.  The hearing, before Judge Kevin Fine in Houston, was itself quite remarkable, airing out issues about the use of evidence long known to be dubious, yet consistently used to convict men and sentence them to death.

Mark Bennett in Houston has been following the hearing closely, even live-tweeting the hearing on its first day.  While I’m over-simplifying the situation, the defendant seeks to show that the evidence used to prove guilt in a death penalty case should be subject to heightened scrutiny, or the conviction would fail to satisfy the 8th Amendment.  In short, all the failings of the evidence, eyewitness identification, testimony by paid informants, and fingerprint comparison, which escape review during the ordinary course of trial based on relevance to the particular defendant, are being tested.

The prosecution has taken a curious position in the hearing before Judge Fine, prefacing and concluding its statements with “but we’re not participating,” while participating.  The objective appears to be to get in their licks without legitimizing the proceeding, so they can later argue that they didn’t participate despite their participation.  Judge Fine wasn’t buying.

As science, experience and DNA have developed to make clear that the sort of evidence being offered to put John Green to death for the murder of Tina Vo is too often wrong and unreliable to stake a man’s life on it, the reaction is often posed why the defense doesn’t put an expert on the stand to explain to the jury why the prosecution’s evidence, like eyewitness identification, isn’t anywhere as compelling as ordinary folks assume it to be.

The answer is relevance.  The science is generic, not particularized to the specific case.  By definition, it couldn’t be.  And eyewitness says, under oath and with the utmost sincerity, that the defendant is the man who done it, and that’s that.  Maybe such testimony is prone to error, but there’s no evidence it’s error in this particular case.  There’s the rub.

The flawed legal assumption is that jurors can decide for themselves the weight to be given such evidence, without need to resort to the soft science of its invalidity. The problem is that this flies in the face of decades, maybe millennia, of “common sense,” that bit of ignorance relied on by people to leap over issues they don’t comprehend and arrive at the simple, and wrong, conclusion.  The deeper problem is that it would make the prosecutions job of proving guilt substantially more difficult.  The law has a long tradition of relying on unreliable evidence because it’s the only evidence available.  Without it, how are they supposed to convict?

This hearing before Judge Fine wasn’t a symposium, a tent revival or laboratory.  It was a novel approach, a challenge to the court’s gatekeeper function of allowing unreliable evidence to serve as the mechanism of death. 

The prosecution argued to the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals that the defense was seeking to prove Green’s innocence via evidence of wrongful convictions of others.  The defense countered that this wasn’t the case at all, and the prosecution was mischaracterizing the nature of the proceedings.  The defense wasn’t seeking to prove Green’s innocence, but rather to challenge the reliability of the nature of the evidence against him, and by it, the validity of any result obtained based on such evidence.

This hearing was an airing long awaited, and long needed, and if the legal system is ever to cleanse itself of convictions based on evidence that, despite its having long been held sacrosanct, we have come to realize is deeply flawed,   Just because it’s the evidence available doesn’t make it reliable.  At some point, the law needed to catch up with reality.  This could be the time.

But the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals issued a stay.  Not today, it says, even though its stay come mid-hearing and after its earlier denial of a stay on the exact same basis.  They ordered the parties to brief the mandamus issue.  It was be parsed out in lawyerly fashion, though there really isn’t anything left to be discussed about the issue.

It was a bold move by Judge Kevin Fine to allow the defense the opportunity to pull the shroud off shoddy, unreliable evidence that has convicted countless men and women.  Bold moves are rarely appreciated by those whose interests are vested in the status quo.  We have relied on bad evidence for so long that the idea of testing it now, after all those years and all those bodies convicted, seems almost revolutionary.

Pat Lykos likely doesn’t want to be remembered forever as the prosecutor who blew the game, the one who lost the ability to execute people based on eyewitness identification, long lionized as the best evidence there is when it came to persuading a jury that “he’s the man.”  Maybe the Court of Criminal Appeals wants to put its stamp of approval on Judge Fine’s hearing, to make clear that its a determination whose time has come and to prevent any post-hoc claim that Lykos’ refusal to participate somehow undermines the legitimacy of a ruling.

Or maybe the Texas CCA, whose presiding judge will forever be known as Killer Keller for slamming shut the courthouse doors to make sure there would be a killing that day, wants to protect the good old ways of convicting the bad guys, knowing only too well how difficult it could be if unreliable evidence and tradition don’t prevail.

The outcome of this hearing is by no means assured, even with Lykos’ prosecutors playing the “no participation” game in an effort to derail its legitimacy.  Judge Fine is staring down evidence that has been the mainstay of convictions forever.  But Lykos, like every prosecutor who isn’t a complete braindead, is well aware with the problems with such evidence, and the potential that jurors will persist in their blind faith in its validity so long as it’s not confronted with a meaningful explanation of its inherent flaws. 

So what of the concern that prosecutors not convict the innocent merely because they can?  What of the concern that they not be the instrument of death, only to learn later that they were wrong?  What of the platitudes about seeking justice rather than convictions?  They are now in the hands of the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals.

Too Many Judges

As noted here, when Queens District Attorney Richard Brown decided that he didn’t want Supreme Court Justice Joel Blumenfeld ruling on his “routine” questioning of defendants immediately in advance of arraignment, just to give them a last chance to explain themselves (or confess, should that be their wont), he went for mandamus.  No way he was going to risk an adverse ruling and appeal.

DA Brown, you see, used to be Judge Brown at the Appellate Division, Second Department.  And that just happens to be the place where his Article 78 proceeding to silence Judge Blumenfeld goes.  But as Joel Cohen and Katherine Helm note in this Law.com post, that’s just where the confusion starts. 

What happens if you call out “judge” in a room and every person turns their head?  Welcome to the problem in Queens.

When Justice (the technical name given all statewide judges other than those on the Court of Appeals, New York’s highest court, as opposed to its trial court, called the Supreme Court) Blumenfeld had issues about “Judge” Brown’s defendant interviews mere moments before counsel was assigned, he called on Cardozo law prof Ellen Yaroshefsky for her opinion.


Justice Blumenfeld, in the context of a confession suppression hearing, decided to hold a hearing on the ethics of the DA’s practice. The judge asked a legal ethics professor, Ellen Yaroshefsky, to prepare an expert report exploring and analyzing the practice, as an aid to the court.
Yaroshefsky’s report was extremely critical of the prosecutors’ conduct. So disturbed was the Queens DA by the judge’s plan to hold a hearing and by the conclusory nature of the report, that his office instituted a rare mandamus proceeding to enjoin the hearing, arguing that the Supreme Court lacked authority to evaluate the prosecutors’ ethics. The DA’s moving papers castigated Yaroshefsky as an activist who favored criminal defendants and made several ad hominem references to a prior representation and her client in that matter, former attorney Lynn Stewart.
Who trumps a lawprof?  How about a retired big league Judge?


In support of the ethical propriety of his Queens Central Booking Program of unrepresented defendants, District Attorney Brown offered his own papers supporting his mandamus petition to his former court. In a one-two punch, he also retained, pro bono, a distinguished, retired judge of the Court of Appeals (New York’s highest court) and former law school dean, Joseph Bellacosa, to offer an additional affidavit. Bellacosa’s opinion focused on what he deemed the impropriety of Yaroshefsky’s report, finding it “puzzling, unfounded and ironically bordering on irresponsibly unprofessional conduct.”

Bellacosa’s significant credentials and accomplishments in New York’s appellate courts, including his Court of Appeals opinions on legal ethics, buttressed the force of his report to the court whose decisions he himself used to review. The district attorney’s office papers kept reminding their readers precisely who was on their side, i.e., that they had a noted “judge” in their corner. They basically trotted out the affidavits, dressed up in black robes.
Need a score card to keep up with the judges?

The problem, as well laid out by Cohen and Helm, was the propriety of using the honorific title of “judge” as the kicker to remind the court which side had the most judges on the payroll.
Of course, Bellacosa doesn’t call himself “Judge” Bellacosa in his affidavit nor encourage the Appellate Division justices who will decide the mandamus petition to do so. He does, of course, makes very clear precisely who he is by virtue of his important works on the courts, and we don’t quarrel here with his conduct in submitting such an affidavit as he did. However, far more patently, the district attorney’s office time and time again in its papers makes clear precisely who their expert is — by name, “Judge” Bellacosa — lest the appellate court forget who was on the DA’s side.

There’s nothing prohibited, nor wrong, about a former judge who aged out or otherwise moved on in their legal career either using their judicial experience and good works in support of their credibility or letting others know that they once wore a robe.  And there’s nothing wrong, as is commonly done, for former judges to enjoy the honorific title of “Judge,” although it would be awkward, not to mention contrary to the ABA ethics opinion (ABA Formal Op. 95-391) to use it in the courtroom.  Best to let the folks actually being paid to be the judge that day enjoy the title all by their lonesome.

Still, nobody misses the implications, and Judge Blumenfeld wasn’t about to let Judge Brown’s use of Judge Bellacosa on his side go unnoticed.



Justice Blumenfeld and Professor Yaroshefsky met the DA’s expert with a counter-expert: Lawrence Fox, a law firm partner in a significant law firm, former chairman of ABA’s Standing Committee on Legal Ethics and Professional Responsibility and visiting lecturer on legal ethics at Yale Law. Pertinent here, and putting aside whether (Judge or Dean) Bellacosa or Fox is right on the merits, Fox’s amicus brief said the following about Bellacosa:


Finally, Yaroshefsky amici cannot permit the petitioner’s constant references to “Judge” Bellacosa, and the characterization of his views go unaddressed. The way the District Attorney describes it, one would think this court should rein in Justice Blumenfeld because a far higher authority, “Judge” Bellacosa, has spoken. But in fact this is improper advocacy based on the participation in this proceeding by a retired judge. At the point where “Judge” Bellacosa is providing his opinion, he is just another lawyer, laboring in the vineyard the same way amici are. And to continue to treat him as if he were a judge and his opinion entitled to some exalted status by virtue of that judgeship, is clearly contrary to the way former judges who practice law should be treated.


There is no question that there are some heavy hitters in this game, whether or not the title judge goes along with the advocate, and their credentials and significant past successes certainly play a legitimate role in weighing the merit of their opinions. 

But the question remains whether the Second Department will make its decision in this bizarre mandamus case, where the prosecution seeks to silence a sitting judge from ruling on the propriety of its hugely dubious practice of manipulating statements from defendants in the moments before they are represented by counsel, based on which side has the most judges.

Or will the court ignore the fact that almost everybody in the room can be called “judge” at cocktail parties and decide instead on the merits.  To that end, I note that Richard Willstatter, who sits in my old spot as amicus chair of the NYSACDL, has  submitted an excellent brief in the matter as well, even though nobody calls him judge.  Yet.

The extraordinary move by Brown to stop Justice Blumenfeld from rendering a decision on a case before him raises fundamental issues of judicial independence, aside from the underlying propriety of Brown’s deceptive and manipulative questioning of defendants at their most vulnerable.  Clearly, the implications of this case are broad for both the courts as well as sanctity of a defendant’s right to remain silent and the Supreme Court’s Miranda warnings, and the Queens DA has brought out the big guns.  Will it overwhelm the judges on the Second Department, or will they remain the only judges in the room that matter?

One might wonder, given all the judicial testosterone in the room, how Ellen Yaroshefsky feels about being a mere lawprof in the presence of so many black robers.  Knowing Ellen, my bet is that she’s never felt better.

Fun with Stun

From the lede of this  Kansas City Star story, one might suspect the crux of the issue is the volatility of stun grenades:

Kansas City police have started an internal investigation to determine if tactical officers acted properly when they broke into a home and threw a stun grenade that caught drapes on fire.

What’s unfortunate about this lede, aside from the lack of editing, is that it fails to note that the KC cops obtained a knock and announce warrant that never should have issued, executed it without knocking at a home they never should have come to, broke down the door despite the homeowner offering to open the door for them, and tossed in a stun grenade for no cognizable reason.

And then the drapes caught on fire.



JeTuan Jones said the use of force — breaking open her door and throwing a “flash bang” device past her niece’s head — was unnecessary, considering that the search warrant was for a cell phone used by her brother, who had moved out four months earlier and was in police custody.


After barging in, police realized her brother did not live there and left without searching, Jones said.


Naturally, the Kansas City police are “investigating,” the police equivalent of telling the angry popular that they aren’t ignoring their wrongdoing, but biding time until people move on to the next thing that attracts their attention so they can wrap this up without any muss or fuss.  Naturally, police officials can’t comment while the matter is under investigation.  They sure have plenty to say when they arrest a bad guy for breaking into a house and lighting the drapes on fire, but that’s different.  That’s you.  That’s not them.


Complaints are rare, he said. Police have served more than 430 search warrants this year, mostly for narcotics investigations. The Office of Community Complaints has forwarded three complaints, including Jones’, to the police Internal Affairs Unit.

Is it fair to call the engagement of conduct that would constitute a crime if done by anyone who wasn’t wearing a shield a “complaint?”  That’s a matter of who you talk to.  In this case, the “complaint” isn’t limited to the drapes on fire from the flash bang grenade, but the breaking into the home despite the warrant not authorizing such entry.  It’s a big thing to go “no-knock” when the warrant says “knock and announce.” 

And what of the warrant itself, duly signed by a Jackson County Circuit Court Judge? 



Jones’ brother attracted police interest after he began using a homicide victim’s cell phone. He told his sister he found the phone Oct. 29 while walking. He used it to call her house.


According to Jones, police began watching her house. They arrested her brother Nov. 3 as he walked to work.


That night, she saw police cars pull onto her street as she left home with her husband and one child. Minutes later, tactical officers charged her front door. Barking dogs prompted Jones’ niece to open the door. Police outside yelled for her to get down.


One might wonder what connection was drawn between the place called and the likelihood that a piece of evidence might be found there.  It was ultimately found in the apartment where the brother had been staying until he was arrested earlier that day,  Did the judge bother to read the affidavit in support of the warrant? 

There’s a nagging suspicion that the inclination to behave like storm troopers comes from the toys we give them.  Put on a SWAT uniform, black as the night so one can’t be seen.  Bring a battering ram to the door and carry stun grenades.  It’s heady times for law enforcement, emboldened by a warrant, even if its basis is garbage and it doesn’t quite allow them to break down the door and throw the grenade.  They’ve got all the fun, cool cop stuff. 

Then there’s the first rule of policing, make it home for dinner.  It’s certainly safer for law enforcement to shock and awe then ask politely.  Stun those old women and they present no threat.  Even an 84 year old bedridden woman can pull the trigger on a gun, assuming she has one.  There may be no reason to suspect she’s armed, but then you can’t bank on her being unarmed.  It could happen.

In the name of safety and effectiveness, we load up police with the toys of the trade and trust them to show sufficient discretion not to use them unless needed.  We ask way too much.

The downside of tossing the stun grenade is an investigation that will result, at absolute worst, in an admonition not to violate the terms of a warrant or use excessive force.  The police involved will bow their heads, shuffle their feet and promise never to do so again.  All is forgiven.  Except by Jones:



She wants police to pay for the damage to her house, which she estimated at thousands of dollars.


Police say they don’t usually pay for damage if it is considered “reasonable.”


In the course of protecting our safety, there will always be some “reasonable” damage.  That’s the price of giving cops stun grenade and the authority to storm into a home in the night.  They’re just doing using the toys we give them to do the job we ask of them.

Talking About Fees

Brian Tannebaum  posts about lawyers who take a part of their fee up front with the balance to be paid over time.

But cash flow is slow, you need the case, and you’re OK getting $1,500 down on a $5,000 fee, because you really need that $1,500 right now.

A month later that first of seven $500 payments doesn’t come. You hope the judge will give you enough continuances to get paid, and you’re looking for a way to convince the client to pay his fee. In the end, you’ve received $2,500, you hate your client, and most of the conversation with him is about “when” he’s going to pay.
Brian speaks to the fault for this scenario, which belongs entirely to the lawyer.  My focus will be on the last phrase of the quote, that “most of the conversation” is about getting paid.

Consider the situation, a defendant charged with a crime and desperately in need of your legal assistance.  Instead of talking about the evidence, the witnesses, the defense theory, the conversation revolves around money.  Where’s the money?

Most of the time, there’s an issue with clients calling too much.  When the client owes money, he doesn’t call at all.  In fact, he won’t take your calls, for fear that it will be another embarrassing, unpleasant telephone call about paying bills and keeping promises.  He doesn’t want to hear it.  He knows he owes you the money.  But there’s always a “but,” a reason why he can’t.

Maybe he just doesn’t have it.  He thought he would.  He really did, but he doesn’t.  He tried really hard to get it, but he just doesn’t have it.  The baby needed pampers.  The rent was due.  He was out drinking with his buddies.  A man’s got to have a little fun, you know.  Whatever.  If it was there, it’s gone.  If it wasn’t there, you can’t get blood from a rock.  Either way, there’s nothing to give you. 

What are you going to do about it?

In the old days, a lawyer would let the judge know that he wasn’t ready for trial because he was waiting for “Mr. Green.”  Everyone knew who Mr. Green was, and there was a tacit understanding that nobody would get pushed too hard if Mr. Green had yet to arrive.  Who is it today, Mr. Plastic?  Or maybe Mr. Paypal? 

At the same time, court appearances weren’t about trying to find a kink in the armor, a screw-up to exploit, a paper not filed or a filed improvidently.  The only association between our dear client and his 37 second in court was the need to get an adjournment so that the deadbeat could pay his bills. 

Some lawyers resorted to harassing their clients, threatening them with jail or worse if they failed to pay up.  Like a loan shark owed too much vig, the threats increased.  Picture the lawyer berating his client in the hallway for the failure to produce the few hundred dollars that he promised the day before on the telephone to induce the lawyer to appear one more time.  Of course, the client didn’t know that the lawyer had to appear regardless of whether he had a dime to tender.

The affront to ethics, to our responsibility to zealously represent our clients, is manifest.  Our every effort is directed toward getting paid rather than defending the client.  In fact, opportunities to defend are ignored, even avoided, because the fee remains unpaid.  Even the newest, hungriest lawyer knows that he will never see a dime after the case is completed.  That’s just not how life works on the street.  Nobody pays out of honor or respect; they pay because they have no other choice.

There is no ethical connection between clients meeting their payment obligations to their criminal defense lawyer and our duty to defend.  It’s brutally harsh, given that landlords, lawbook companies and Starbucks expect payment when due.  But our lot isn’t their concern.  Once you accept a case, file your notice of appearance and assume the responsibility to serve as a lawyer for an accused, financial issues no longer drive your duty.  You are the lawyer.

Some judges will let an unpaid lawyer off a case, at least under certain circumstances.  Some will laugh at you, shrug their shoulders and remind you what Brian did:  get it up front.  This is the last resort, assuring that the tiny bit of leverage is gone and you will never be paid for the work you’ve done.

Every lawyer, new or lion of the bar, wonders whether the phone will ring again today.  Every lawyer wonders whether the caller will have a great case and the wherewithal to pay for it, or be a $100 shoplifter who wants a free consultation. 

There have always been lawyers who will never let a client out the door if they have change jingling in their pocket.  They need that change, and they fear that the phone will sit silently in its cradle.  All the bravado in the hallways, or on twitter, won’t change the reality of an empty bank account.  And so they take the case on a promise to pay, the client so sincere about how he’ll have the money next month.  “You can trust me, I would never burn you.  So how much do I have to pay now?”

It’s not just the fee that you’re fighting over for the duration of your representation, but your integrity.  Don’t blame the client for compromising your ethics, for making you into the lawyer you despise.  You made the choice when your hunger and fear overcame your sound judgment and experience.  You knew he wouldn’t pay.  You knew that your efforts would be consumed with getting the balance of the fee rather than defending your client.

This time suck it up and learn a lesson.  Next time, don’t make the same mistake.  If a person cannot pay your fee, then wish him well and let him walk.  Don’t blame him later when the fault was yours.

One Responsibility, Seeking Justice

No, not criminal defense lawyers, but this statement opens the  press release by the United States Attorney for the Northern District of Georgia, Sally Quillian Yates:

The United States Attorney’s Office has one responsibility – to seek justice. To fulfill that responsibility, we are today disclosing information that we have recently discovered to the public as well as to defendants who may be affected by this information.

What juicy revelation could she be about to disclose?  That fingerprints are baloney?  That the lab techs lied and never actually tested the 457 kilos of cocaine?  That they’ve actually read Brady and realized that they’ve withheld information that tended to exculpate the defendant?

Sorry.  Not today.  Nope,


On November 19, 2010, former Senior District Judge Jack T. Camp (“Camp”) pleaded guilty to aiding a felon in possessing illegal drugs, possessing illegal drugs, and converting government property to private use.

Sally, this was already in the news.  We know this.  And it means what to us?


While Camp’s use of these drugs was not limited to weekends, he denies that he used any of these drugs contemporaneously with any court business, and we are currently unaware of any demonstrable evidence to the contrary. We have not discovered evidence of illegal drug use prior to May 2010.

So he was a drug-crazed fiend on his own time?  Thanks for that revelation, Sally, that his “lapses of judgment” never impaired his judgment when it came to being a judge.  Really, he’s a poster boy for judicial discretion.  Come on, there’s got to be something.


According to Witness 1, Camp told her that when African-American men appeared before him, he had a difficult time adjudicating their cases and specifically determining their sentences because he could not differentiate them from Individual A in light of his feelings about Individual A.

Whoa.  Are you saying that Camp sentenced black men to unduly harsh prison terms because of his sexual jealousy toward them?



When our office confronted Camp with the above allegations, he said that he did not make the statements attributed to him by either Witness 1 or Witness 2. He further denied ever taking any judicial action based on racial bias.

Or are you saying that he’s not a drug-crazed racist with penis issues because he denied it?


Our review of information provided by the Clerk of Court indicates that the only criminal trial over which Camp presided from May, 2010 forward resulted in a mistrial due to a deadlocked jury. Our only interest in any case that we have prosecuted before Camp is ensuring that justice is served. To that end, given these disturbing facts and allegations, this office will evaluate any criminal case adjudicated by Camp for impairment or bias that a defendant requests that we review.

Well, as long as your only interest is to ensure that justice is served.  After all, who isn’t for justice, right?


Furthermore, from May of 2010 forward, there is evidence that Camp’s judicial decision-making process may have been impacted by bias and/or impairment and it has been established that he was involved in criminal conduct during this period. Therefore, we will not object to a defendant’s request for a resentencing in any case in which the defendant was sentenced during this time.

That’s wonderfully magnanimous of you, given that Camp’s judgment was, how shall we say it, impaired.  Of course, there’s still one thing that remains a bit troubling, you see, because defendants don’t get to the point of sentencing without having gone through the process of prosecution, during which Judge Camp gets to do stuff, like make decisions and smack defendants and their lawyers around some, and detain people so that they are incapable of aiding in their defense, even assuming they are capable of obtaining the legal representation to which they would otherwise be entitled.

There are a whole panoply of rights and issues that arise during the course of prosecution, starting at the moment of arrest and continuing until the marshals walk the defendant out in shackles, and they are all inter-related, and often defy the government’s ability to see them quite as clearly as they might appear to a defendant or his lawyer. 

But hey, as long as your only interest is in seeking justice, we can certainly rely on your sound judgment and good intentions to ensure that every defendant who appeared before Judge Jack Camp got his fair shake.  After all, it’s all about justice, and if we can’t trust the government to seek justice, who can we trust?

And isn’t it fortunate that the miscreant who disrupted the government’s efforts to seek justice just happened to be some drug-abusing, sex-crazed old judge?  It’s not like anybody in the United States Attorneys office would ever do something to cause you to have to issue a press release about how you’re only responsibility is to seek justice.  Bad judge. Good government.  Glad we got that cleared up.

H/T Dissent at Pogo Was Right

How Cheeseheads Explain Sex

Via Michael Cicchini at his new criminal law blawg,  The Legal Watchdog, provides an ugly view into the rationale of the Wisconsin Supreme Court when it comes to determining who, and why, someone is a sex offender.

For each violent rapist, a registry may contain dozens of teenagers who had consensual sex with younger teens, and dozens of other teens who were convicted of “sexting,” urinating in public, or similar behavior .  But, perhaps the biggest problem with sex offender registries is that they’re not just for sex-related crimes anymore.
         

An excellent example of this trend can be found in the Wisconsin case of State v. Smith, where Smith, a 17-year-old boy, made another 17-year-old boy go with him to collect a debt.  Smith was convicted of felony false imprisonment for this behavior and, because his “prisoner” was a minor, the state forced Smith to register as a sex offender. 

Smith failed to register as a sex offender, making the mistaken assumption that since he wasn’t a sex offender, it didn’t apply to him.  How naive can you get?  When prosecuted for his failure, Smith challenged the registration law as unconstitutional as applied. 

The Wisconsin Supreme Court rejected the argument, holding that Smith failed to “prove that the statute is unconstitutional beyond a reasonable doubt.”   How one proves an argument beyond a reasonable doubt, a standard that applies poorly to facts and not at all to law, remains a Wisconsin mystery, much like Friday night fish fries and the love of polkas.  But I digress.  Smith’s argument was subject to rational basis analysis.

[R]equiring Smith to register as a sex offender is rationally related to the state’s legitimate interest in protecting the public, including children, and assisting law enforcement. Requiring Smith to register, even though his conviction for false imprisonment was not of a sexual nature, is rationally related to the government interest in protecting the public and assisting law enforcement because:

(1) false imprisonment has been linked to the commission of sexual assault and violent crimes against children;

(2) an offender’s sexual motive or intent may be difficult to prove or determine within the context of false imprisonment; and

(3) false imprisonment places the minor in a vulnerable position because the offender, rather than the minor, has control over the minor’s body and freedom of movement.
Of critical importance is that the court did not hold that the purpose of the sex offender registry is in any way directly related to sex, but rather “protecting the public and assisting law enforcement.”  That pretty much covers everything in the world, except releasing Brett Favre when he still had life in his arm.

By decoupling sex from the sex offender registry, there’s no rational end to where legislatures can go.  It’s invariably in the interest of protecting the public and, my personal favorite concern, assisting law enforcement to keep tabs on every person ever convicted of anything, anywhere, any time.  It’s like an “easy button” for law enforcement, and seriously, wouldn’t that make cops’ lives easier?

In dissent, Justice Ann Walsh Bradley points out some problems.
Two essential errors drive the majority’s analysis. First, the majority fails to carefully define the purpose of the statute. Its broad statement of the statutory purpose evinces an unwillingness to provide meaningful review. Second, the majority mischaracterizes Smith’s challenge. In so doing, the majority blurs the distinction between facial and as-applied challenges and ducks the constitutional challenge that is the subject of this appeal.

As a result of these errors, the majority abdicates its responsibility to determine whether there is a rational basis for requiring Smith to register as a sex offender. Contrary to the majority, when I examine the legislative purpose behind the sex offender registry, I conclude that there is no rational basis for making Smith register as a sex offender when everybody acknowledges that there was nothing sexual about his offense.


Shocking in its simplicity, Justice Bradley goes right to the heart of the matter.  There’s a reason it’s called the Sex Offender Registry.  The rationale that permits its existence is predicated upon its being related to sex offenses, even though that rationale suffers from some massive inherent flaws since not all offense that can be legitimately characterized as bearing any connection to sexual conduct suffer from the recidivism dilemma that was used to justify perpetual oversight and control. 

But when the explanation for putting a 17 year old kid on the registry requires a court to find justification in something so broad, so vague, so utterly unjustifiable, as “assisting law enforcement,” there can be no denying that these registries have been reduced to a farce.  Perhaps a better name than sex offender registries would be census, as the underlying rationale would, with only the most minor extension, apply with equal force to the heinous illegal parker.  Heck, it would apply to the most law-abiding guy in Kenosha County, since no one would expect him to go bad, and he could do a ton of harm without police scrutiny.  If that’s not a good reason to keep an eye on his whereabouts, I’ll eat my cheesehead.

As the dissent notes, an as-applied challenge provides an opportunity for the court to determine whether those attenuated “links” between non-sexual criminal conduct and any potential to commit an inchoate sex offense exists.  If not, under any meaningful logic, then the court has the power to conclude that the registration requirement as applied to this particular individual, is arbitrary, and therefore unconstitutional.

But that would take a lot of work, considering each defendant individually, and would undermine the legislative scheme of making sure that law enforcement is assisted at every turn.  As I learned in Milwaukee, in heaven there is no beer.  And in Brown County, Wisconsin, there’s a 17 year old kid on the sex offender registry because a majority of judges on the State Supreme Court couldn’t be bothered thinking too hard.

Are All Murderers Mentally Ill?

That’s the claim of Lane Wallace in The Atlantic, where she uses it in support of her argument that the death penalty is unconstitutional.

But if, in fact, murderers who commit grisly crimes do so because of warped minds–perhaps because of trauma and abuse endured as children, or perhaps because of organic, biological deficits–if, in fact, they are mentally ill in ways that make it impossible for them to see the world or appropriate boundaries and behaviors the way the rest of us do. Is it appropriate, ethical, or right to kill them for their acts? Or is it, as Sharp argues, a barbaric thing for a civilized society to do? 


Or, to put it in Constitutional terms, if someone’s acts are a result of an illness they can’t control, even if the acts are deliberate, conscious and cold-blooded, does it violate the 8th Amendment’s ban on cruel and unusual punishment to condemn them to death because of those acts?
She arrives there on the back of a criminal defense lawyer, Elaine Whitfield Sharp.


Elaine Whitfield Sharp is a defense attorney who has worked on hundreds of murder cases over the past 20 years. And while she thinks Stevens’ points are valid, she believes the fundamental problem with capital punishment is more basic than that. 



“You see, I truly believe that murderers are mentally ill,” she explains. “Their brains don’t work like the rest of ours do. To deliberately kill someone requires crossing a profound boundary. Most of us couldn’t do it. We couldn’t even think about it. But they can. They do. Why? Because they’re mentally ill. And fundamentally, as a society, I believe it is barbaric to kill people who are ill.” 

While it’s useful, maybe even necessary, when arguing against the imposition of the death penalty as a concept across the board to make such sweeping claims, it’s similarly problematic when one considers that the vast majority of those convicted of murder, in one of its permutations, will not be sentenced to death, and will in fact be sentenced to a term of years and subsequently released.  Yet, this anecdotal argument, based on the experience of one lawyer, untrained in the assessment of mental illness, is the sort of thing that is used to impugn everyone convicted of murder.


So, in many ways, or until a crisis precipitates a dysfunctional episode, a mentally ill person can appear perfectly rational and “normal.” And yet, their internal world is very different. What is irrational or unreasonable to most of us can seem very reasonable to them. 



“Murderers seem to have no appreciation of boundaries,” Sharp explains. “And it shows up in all aspects of their lives. Most criminals I deal with are very narcissistic. They’re blame-shifters, manipulative, and can’t feel anyone else’s pain but their own. A consistent hallmark, in fact, particularly of killers, is this extreme narcissism.”

This may well be a valid description of some, perhaps many, who kill.  But all?  Is this a universal truism?  It has to be if the position is going to serve any utility in arguing against capital punishment, but it’s similarly an argument against ever releasing a person convicted of murder back into society. 

This would serve as an excellent basis to impose life in prison instead of a term of years that would eventually result in release.  After all, they may have served their sentence, but they will still be mentally ill.  wouldn’t it be dangerous, irresponsible, to let such a narcissist free to experience another precipitating crisis and murder again?

Most of us would view someone who’s constantly shifting blame to others and has an aggrandized view of themselves as annoying, at best, and perhaps reprehensible. But what Sharp, Peck and others are arguing is that, at least after a certain point on the spectrum, it’s actually a mental disorder, like schizophrenia or other personality disorders. As in, not something the person can control or change on their own.
Worse still, if murderous conduct is something that these narcissists can neither control nor change, minimal prudence would suggest screening for such conduct as constant blame shifting in order to identify those who suffer from this amorphous mental disorder and remove them from society before they can kill.  We certainly don’t want these ticking time bombs, killing machines, walking the streets, just waiting for some event to pop something in their heads and make them murder babies.

The problem with arguments like these, aside from their being a bit facile and unsupported, is that they paint with a very broad brush in order to serve their intended purpose, in this case to argue the wrongfulness of executing a person who is mentally ill and incapable of controlling their conduct due to “trauma and abuse endured as children, or perhaps because of organic, biological deficits.”  Certainly, they can’t be held morally responsible for their acts.  It’s not a bad argument.

But the extension of the argument, that anyone convicted of the crime of murder can never be safely released, can never pay his dues and return to society as a law-abiding member, who must be incarcerated forever, can’t be ignored.  While the death penalty is clearly the most extreme consequence, and hence one that we tend to focus on with far greater concern and scrutiny than any other, the punishment remains one that is rarely imposed. 

To say that killers are mentally ill due to a narcissistic world view isn’t a great stretch.  Indeed, many people who commit crime suffer from this mindset, putting their own self-interest above that of others, that of society.  Some might say this is a trait of lawyers as well, and it goes without saying that it’s a definitional component of the Slackoisie.

Are we all potential killers, just waiting for that precipitating event to make us lose it?  Could it be that simple?  But then it wouldn’t be a mental deficit, but an aspect of flawed humanity that changes an otherwise normal person, whatever that is, into a raging murderer.

The capital punishment debate is a real and serious one, but as Jeff Gamso often reminds us, life in prison is just a variation on a theme, where death is imposed but takes a little longer to carry out.  In solving one problem, we must remain vigilant against promoting another.

Sweeping simplistic claims, like Wallace’s, may serve to support the argument against capital punishment, and to the extent that one focuses exclusively on that wrong, it’s easy to get behind.  But our inclination to support arguments that further one goal without consideration of their unintended, or maybe just unconsidered, consequences is the sort of thing that can cause far-reaching problems for many others. 

In the quest to stop executions, do we really want to argue that all murderers are mentally ill?  Sure, that diminishes their responsibility for their crime, but it also means they should never walk out of prison alive.  Is it really an advancement to substitute the fast death penalty for the slow one?