While Crazy Joe Arpaio ponders the move from Sheriff of Maricopa County to the lesser position of governor, New Yorkers have their own version.  It would have burst on the scene over the weekend, but for some crazy who put a fizzled car bomb in Times Square.  A potential dark cloud with a bit of a silver lining.  Only a bit, since they still have the balloons and wazoos to be used for the announcement once we get over our fear and loathing.

The announcement will come as no surprise.  Via Newsday (which you won’t be able to access unless you buy Jim Dolan’s cable, unlike real newspapers):

Nassau District Attorney Kathleen Rice Sunday delayed the expected announcement of her bid to become state attorney general.

“As a law enforcement official, and given the situation unfolding in New York City, the DA didn’t believe it was the right time for politics,” said Eric Phillips, Rice’s spokesman.

Phillips said Rice is monitoring the situation and will announce when it’s appropriate.

Translation: You won’t notice me.  I want you to notice me. Notice me, dammit!  That Rice would be running for AG was crystal clear from the outset of her last election for DA.  She’s everything you could want in an AG, self-serving, fear-mongering and cut-throat ambitious.  The prosecutors in her own office despise her.  The public loves her.  She’s got red hair and prosecutes drunk drivers under the murder statute, because the state’s vehicular homicide laws won’t get her big enough headlines.

Her credentials for the Attorney General job were laid bare:

William Cunningham, a Democratic consultant and former top adviser to Mayor Michael Bloomberg, said Rice has several advantages.

“One is her resume, one is her gender and one is her geography,” Cunningham said.

Cunningham explained that prosecutors appeal to the electorate, and Rice benefits from being the only woman now in the field. Though Rice once worked in the Brooklyn district attorney’s office, she was elected in Nassau and Cunningham said that will help her draw suburban voters.

Larry Levy, who heads the Center for Suburban Studies at Hofstra University, added that not only is Rice’s gender a plus, but her Irish Catholic background will help with the suburban vote.

Levy said Rice has something else important working for her.

“She’s got the fire in the belly, too. There is no doubt about that,” Levy said. “This is something that she really, really wants.”

Notice that there’s nothing in there about ability, intelligence, fairness, any of that pap?  But when it comes to pandering, she’s a winner.  She knows how to play the masses like nobody’s business.  Plus, she’s got red hair.  Then there’s the screw up last year, when she cut a break  to the woman who lied about being gang raped at Hofstra.  So what if she was pandering to women and playing the feminist myth that if you hold women accountable for crime, that will chill their coming forward in the future to commit new crimes. 

The post of AG has been a major jumping off point for major league politicians in New York.  Consider Eliot Spitzer, who was anointed Emperor of the Empire State from the position.  Now Cuomo hopes to do the same, if Spitzer doesn’t set him up on a blind date. 

Either way, this leaves an ambition gap in state government, and there’s no one with as much ambition to fill it as Kathleen Rice.  Of course, there’s a huge integrity gap as well.  Unfortunately, there’s no one to fill that void.  Nobody’s even interested.

Update:  Apparently, the news cycle is over for the Times Square bomb, so Rice has announced she’s running . Woo hoo.

In her recorded announcement, Rice, noting the importance of the role of attorney general, said: “This year is even more unusual. We face unprecedented challenges in our cities, our state capital and our nation that are borne of uncertain times and an uncertain economy and are brought home in rising rates of violent crime.”

Maybe somebody should tell her that the AG doesn’t fight violent crime?  No matter.  It’s not like anybody cares.

Unlike many whose thoughts and feelings on the law exist only in the confines of their head, Norm Pattis’ days are spent in the well doing what lawyers are meant to do.  Norm tries cases.  So when Norm comes up with an idea for change, there are usually two things you can count on: they will be radical and raise an issue that needs to be addressed.  He does so again with his question, what’s wrong with letting jurors talk?

I’ve tried more cases than I can recall, but I know this much is true: A courtroom is all about energy and bounce. Sure, there are the facts and the law. But the facts and the law are merely disconnected pieces of data. Unless they are fitted into a narrative structure, given energy, they are meaningless. And unless that narrative structure is heard by the jury, it is merely sound and fury, signifying nothing.

I’ve watched sometimes as adversaries railed away at the jury, stamping their feet and hissing in rage. When I see the jurors look away, or look down, I know the message is not being delivered. I wonder how many times I have howled into the void.

So I try to listen with my eyes. I want the jurors to tell me they’ve heard. I speak, I look and I listen. And when I see recognition in the eyes of one juror, I move on to another. I talk to each juror in turn, and I know my task is near complete when each has given me the cue that they have heard.

Norm goes on to talk of his summation in the trial he just completed, where his method of using rhetorical questions elicited more than the normal reaction.

The other day, I asked a rhetorical question. I paused. A few jurors nodded. The eyes of another sparkled. I asked another question. A different juror nodded. And then the third question. This time a juror forgot the barriers of the courtroom and answered my question, simply and clearly. He returned the gift I had given.

“You cannot answer counsel,” the judge was quick to interject. Why not?, I almost asked. Why are we not allowed to communicate with the folks who decide our client’s fate?

Why not indeed?  One of the most difficult realizations about trial is that lawyers, as senders of information, cannot determine whether jurors received it.  Or if they did, whether the recognized it as we want them to.  Consider the withering cross, where we finally get the witness to stumble and fall, admit that he was wrong, or better still, lied.  In our minds, we’re killers, heroes, winners.  We want to do with Tiger Woods fist pump, we’re so pleased with ourselves.

Does the jury get it?  Were they even listening?  And if both, do they recognize how significant it is, that the witness who lied about one thing will lie about others?  Or will they shrug and say, so what?  So what if the witness lied about whether it was sunny or overcast.  He still say the defendant pull the trigger, right?

As we talk to a diverse group of twelve, it’s hard if not impossible to know whether our words, meant to say one thing, are understood.  Each juror brings their own ideas to the panel, their own understanding based on their own experiences.  We pretend that we can know them through voir dire, but we can’t.  And the words that resonate with juror number 2 may turn off juror number 11.  We just don’t know.

If a juror gives the gift of caring, why are we forbidden to return the gift with a response? Jurors should be free to speak with their voices during closing argument. Until they have that freedom, we must become adept at listening with our eyes.

But there’s a problem here too.  Just as the criminal defense lawyer would want to engage with the jury, so would the prosecutor.  We want them to nod as we explain the case, the defense.  They want them to nod too.  We want them to feel our arguments, our view of the facts, our reasoning.  So do they.

What would happen if the juror returned the gift of caring, but not to us.  What if he gave the gift to the prosecutor, who received the gift gratefully and went down the road invited, perhaps about the victim, the things that bring tears to everyone’s eyes but do nothing to show the defendant’s guilt.  What if it was a flagrant appeal to prejudice and speculation, exacerbated by the response of a juror that the defendant ought to die for what he did to a child? 

On the one hand, it clarifies our effort to read their eyes, to have a glimpse at what goes through their mind.  Sure, we believe that we’ve mastered the magic of understanding without knowing, but the verdict may well dispel our hubris. 

The alternative is a melee in the courtroom to manipulate the jurors to speak out, to voice their view and understanding.  Maybe like an old-time tent revival, we can get them worked up to the point where they praise the defense and raise their hands to the law.  Or maybe one will do that for the prosecution, and spread their fervor to the others.

One of the things we hope for in the process of closing our cases is to keep the jury’s attention, to hold onto them long enough to make our case as best we can and get our point into their heads.  Whether they will agree with us, vote our way, has yet to be seen, but at least the opportunity to speak was there.  If the jurors feel free to speak their minds in response, before we finished our summation, we may not get the chance to say what we have to say. 

The jury can give us a gift.  They can also take it away and give it to the other side.  We might be worse off that way.

About a month ago, Apple launched the iPad , and every cool kid rushed out to get one so that all the other cool kids wouldn’t laugh at them.  This weekend, Apple launched the iPad 3G, and even at $629, it sold like, well, an iPad.  The third generation iPad goes on sale tomorrow at $859.

Reports from the weekend raise questions about the second generation iPad.  Design issues prevent it from being thrown as easily as a frisbee.  And there’s that network reception issue too.  Bummer.  But the worst problem is that last month’s cool kids now look a bit dated.  After all, their iPad is merely WiFi, while the in-the-know kids are 3G.  I can hear the chuckles as they pull their outmoded iPad out and try to hide their shame in the corner.

I saw an iPad yesterday, though I’m fairly certain it was one of the old, pathetic versions since its user looked glum and wore a doubleknit leisure suit.  It’s so very hard to be cutting edge anymore with the edge in constant motion.

It was disheartening.  The iPad user was a nice guy, trying to keep up with the early bird at his children’s urging. The kids had iPhones and others gadgets with them, including a netbook from the looks of it, but they barely touched them.  They played some game on the iPad involving super heroes.  Other kids looked on.  Some looked at their parents with imploring eyes.  They probably didn’t know that the iPad was working on WiFi rather than 3G.  There was no reception there.

It must have been worth it to have every shiny new toy that appears in the store.  I know a lot of people with i-stuff, many of whom trade them up with hours of getting their first so they aren’t passe before they read the manual.

At least the original iPad buyers got a month of cool out of it.  The second generation iPad 3G users may only get hours.  And the third generation people are just losers, because by then no one will care at all.  No one ever advertises a fifth generation device.

My cellphone used to be my daughter’s.  When we renewed the contract, she got a new shiny one. I got her old one which used to be a new shiny one.  It works fine when I remember to turn it on. 

I’ve received numerous emails from folks who either have, or want to, blawg lately, asking questions about how to do it, how I do it, what to do.  When I respond, there is a tendency to argue with me. 

I’ve decided to try something very different for me, and will make this an open thread for anyone who has a question or an answer.  I’m no guru.  There’s no reason why my thoughts are any more worthy than yours or anyone else’s.  Got a question?  Ask.  Got an answer?  Tell.  Want to argue about it?  Argue.

Have at it all you want, no holds barred.

Chronicling the nastiness that police do to others leaves me to wonder whether it’s a genetic predisposition, a job that attracts those who can’t find decent work as a criminal or something else.  PsychProf Todd Kashdan offers an alternative explanation, with solution in tow, at HuffPo.

Idle on the side of the road is a lone police officer with a laser gun pointing to an endless parade of cars. Their task is simple. Look at the gun and determine if someone is speeding excessively and also be on the look-out for reckless drivers.

Any rational person would be bored senseless.

It’s not clear that rational person would be the first choice of descriptions, or bored senseless necessarily reactions.  Other choices that come to mind are overtaxed, at the extreme of intellectual capacity, happy to be working off the donut high.  Okay, a bit snarky, but opening with the assumption that we’re dealing with rational people, or that rational can’t refer to reasonable dolts.

Kashdan then suggests:

Negative emotions can influence our behavior in powerful, pernicious ways. When we experience negative emotions our attention narrows such that we are less open to new information, less willing to compromise, and more likely to rigidly adhere to initial reactions and stereotypes. When in a negative mood, we tend to judge people more harshly. When in a negative mood, we are particularly aggressive towards people that are different from us (what we might call our “out-group”) which may be based on age, education, gender, race, political orientation, or religion. Our biases are bigger, badder, and stronger when we are in a funk.

Nobody wants funky cops, but it strikes me that when Kashdan says “different from us,” what he really means is different from them, meaning that the “out-group” is everybody who isn’t a funky cop.  But I digress.

Are police officers aware of how boredom impacts their decisions? Are police officers aware of which citizens fall into their “in-group” and “out-group?” And don’t respond with a statement that they are trained not to show biases. Everyone has biases.

Kashdan faces a fork in the road, and takes the wrong one.  There’s no question that everyone has biases.  But the job of cops is to not act upon bias.  I know, that’s really, really hard to do.  It’s not like we pay them to do the job.  Oh? We do?  Well, still, if they don’t do the job properly, it’s not like they won’t be immediately fired, maybe even imprisoned. Oh? They won’t?  That’s not good.

Upon this backdrop, Kashdan offers a modest solution:

Here is my brief suggestion: allow police officers small personalized strategies to put themselves in a good mood. Let them listen to soothing, melodic sounds of their own choosing (commercials and channel switching on the radio is often more frustrating than pleasurable). Let them spend some time outside of their car where they can physically stretch. Let them stand in the sunlight so that they can increase their serotonin levels while observing their surroundings. When police officers are in a good mood, they are more perceptive, think more clearly, and show greater kindness and compassion.

Despite the fact that everything Kashdan has offered in support of his thesis is, well, simplistic and basically demonstrates a lack of understanding of what police do (they don’t all do highway duty), or the expectation that they really shouldn’t bash in the heads of black people because their donut was stale, his solution has some appeal nonetheless.

Whether described as happier, calmer or more peaceful, these attributes tend to make anyone more likely to be slower to lash out in mindless anger.  While it emits the stench of coddling a well paid bunch of armed folks on the government dole, with a full pension after 20 years and the authority to tell people whose lives are dedicated to developing the cure for disease to hop on one foot, Kashdan asserts that it’s not for their benefit, but ours.

The aim is not to make police officers happy, the aim is to create the optimal environment for them to serve and protect the community. It is far too easy to overlook how our mental content and environment influences our ability to do this.

How nice would it be to have the officer approach the driver’s side of the vehicle with a serene smile on his face?  A warm handshake after the ticket is delivered and a caring admonition, “sorry that I have to do this, and take it a little slower, please.”  Young or old, black or white, wouldn’t we feel better with a happy cop? 

And it doesn’t stop there, as Kashdan points out.

If you think this research on emotions is only relevant to police officers, you are mistaken. How about courtroom judges who feel fatigued after listening to dozens of cases in a row?

Consider how much easier it would be to get those cases adjourned if only the judge was getting a nice foot rub under the bench?

Stress and boredom are the bookends of modern life.  To the extent we manage to avoid them, we are fortunate indeed, but most of us, regardless of our occupations, are constrained to suffer both at various points in our day.  This certainly includes cops, and to a lesser extent, judges.  To the extent we are able to avoid stress and boredom on the job, our spouse and kids are there to pick up the slack.

We could all use some coddling.  We could all use some happy time.  Perhaps cops more than the rest of us, and perhaps Kashdan is right that we would all be safer if cops were saner.  But to follow his advice is to go down a road of no return, where their conduct is contingent not on propriety but feel-good ethos.  It’s hard to disagree with the theory that an environment where police are less inclined to lash out in violence, particularly against those against whom they are biased, would be wonderful.  The question of how to achieve that environment, however, is the issue.

What Kashdan ignores is the culture of being able to indulge their most visceral whim with impunity.  What if his happy cop theory produces police offers who feel badly about beating someone afterward?  Is that good enough?  What if the cop smiles as he tases a pregnant woman or granny?  These aren’t out-group types, but people who are just like those in the cops personal sphere, and yet it happens.  And what of the kids?  Police have kids, yet they don’t seem to show the same empathy when the youngster before them is fathered by someone else.

I’m all for police officers who make smarter, calmer more rational choices in the performance of their duty.  Or more precisely, I’m very much against those who don’t.  But to suggest that they need yet greater concessions to accommodate their personal happiness, even if for our benefit, is naive.  What they need is the knowledge that abuse, misconduct, needless anger and violence, will not be tolerated on the job, and that their fellow officers, their supervisors and the public will not accept it.

Coddling is nice, but getting a beating from a happy cop doesn’t hurt any less.  

H/T Stephanie West Allen at Idealawg  

H. Louis Nichols died last weekend at age 94.  I didn’t give it a great deal of thought until Eric Turkewitz sent me an email asking whether Nichols engaged in improper solicitation.  Turk, as every half-awake lawyer knows, runs the New York Personal Injury Law Blog. 

Nichols was President of the Dallas County Bar Association.  On November 23, 1963, he paid a visit to the jail to meet the man who was arrested the day before for the murder of President John F. Kennedy.

From the Dallas Morning News (the newspaper favored by half-awake lawyers):

By 2 p.m. Saturday, Mr. Nichols began receiving calls from Dallas attorneys concerned that Oswald did not have an attorney. Esteemed law school deans from “back East” were calling to express concern that only a legal backwater would deny an attorney to a murder suspect, Mr. Nichols’ friends told him.

The situation was puzzling. Mr. Nichols was a civil lawyer unfamiliar with criminal law. Oswald, who was indigent, couldn’t pay a lawyer. In 1963, criminal suspects in Texas had no right to a court-appointed lawyer before they were indicted.

Still, Mr. Nichols concluded that even a pariah like Oswald deserved representation. And it was up to him as bar association president to see if the accused killer wanted a lawyer. So, Mr. Nichols cleaned up, got dressed on a Saturday afternoon and drove to the city jail.

Nichols fought the hordes of reporters to get into the Dallas County jail and sit down with Lee Harvey Oswald.  

Nichols described Oswald, who was dressed in a white T-shirt and slacks, as calm and rested. He had a bruise over one eye but appeared to be in good health. He said that police were holding him “incommunicado” and that he did not know what had happened to the president, Mr. Nichols told the Warren Commission.

Oswald said he wanted a New York lawyer named John Abt or a lawyer associated with the American Civil Liberties Unionto represent him. Oswald also wanted a lawyer “who believes as I believe, and believes in my innocence.”

“What I am interested in is knowing right now, do you want me or the Dallas Bar Association to try to get you a lawyer?” Mr. Nichols asked Oswald.

“No, not right now,” he replied.

His need for counsel abated the following day at the hand of Jack Ruby.

It’s interesting to see the same situation through different eyes.  On November 22, 1963, there was no man more hated in the United States of America than Oswald.  Yet a civil lawyer, at risk of becoming a national pariah for an effort that he was ill-prepared to complete, sat down and asked if he wanted help getting a lawyer.  Was it solicitation?  I think not.  It was one of those finest moments the legal profession has to offer. 

There was nothing to gain and everything to lose.  Still he went.

It’s unlikely that H. Louis Nichols was a radical, inasmuch as he was 47 years old and President of the Dallas County Bar Association in 1963.  He likely wore a white shirt and dark suit with lace-up shoes.  He was a lawyer.  When he walked into the jail, he didn’t know whether he would walk out the most hated lawyer in America, but he had to make certain that Lee Harvey Oswald would have a lawyer, and offered his help.

Imagine if the same situation occurred today.  Would he have worried about his Google pagerank?  Would fear of the inability to pay off his student loans have made him hesitate?  Would concern over placing duty above image have dissuaded him from doing the unthinkable, aiding the most despised man in the nation?  And Nichols wasn’t even a criminal defense lawyer.

“But for Video” has been an ongoing theme here, reflecting the new reality that complaints of police misconduct and abuse, dismissed out of hand despite a defendant appearing at arraignment with eyes blackened, nose broken, teeth missing and a charge of attacking an officer’s fist with his face, can no longer be ignored.  Watch it judge.  Watch it voters.  It’s all there in the video.

My mistake.  Even with video, the great wall of blind faith cannot be broken through.  Patrick Pogan, 24, on his 11th day of policing, was acquitted of the Big Shove.

The acquittal on the assault charge was perhaps indicative of the public’s belief that police officers should be given latitude to use force when they perceive a threat, said Philip Karasyk, a defense lawyer who regularly defends police officers.

“When an officer puts on that badge and uniform, he’s not feeling a heightened sense of security — he’s feeling a heightened sense of insecurity and a sense of being on guard,” he said.

To put it more clearly, your fellow citizens say that it’s acceptable for a cop to attack you.  For many of us, myself included, the blame for allowing a culture of separation between the police and the citizenry, where police are entitled to act upon their basest impulse with violence and anger, is levied on police.  But Pogo was right.

Patrick Pogan was convicted of filing a false instrument, for the criminal court complaint alleging that he was knocked down by the bicyclist, Christopher Long.  He said he was confused.

“The important part to remember is, regardless of what’s on these documents, if at the time you filled them out you believe you’re being truthful, then that’s really all that should matter,” [Pogan’s defense lawyer Stuart]. London said. 

[Pogan] said he had confused the initial collision with two later instances in which he went to the ground while trying to handcuff Mr. Long.

Had there been no videotape, my guess is Pogan wouldn’t have described his having gotten the salient details of the assault backward.  My guess is that he would testify with utmost certainty that it happened just the way he described it.  My guess is that it would have been good enough to convict Long of assaulting him.  My guess is the jury would not have hesitated to convict Long of assaulting a police officer.  Long, the pot-smoking miscreant, would not have been given “latitude”.

The case was tried in a Manhattan courtroom.  Unlike the Bronx, with jurors who usually have some experience being on the receiving end of cop-love, Manhattan juries are an unusual mix of people.  From Wall Street brokers to lawyers to television personalities, they reflect the broad mix of people who are able to afford an apartment for $7500 a month.  A few uptowners may mix in there, provided they speak English.  Then there are always a few younger people, often students or young professionals starting their careers. 

This isn’t to suggest that I have any clue as to the jury in this case, as I wasn’t there and haven’t been able to find any information about who actually sat on the jury.  But the point is that these are generally upstanding people, well educated.  They generally have yet to be indicted themselves.  They’re pretty much us.

And they watched the video.  And they saw the Big Shove.  And they shrugged.  And amongst themselves, they decided that it was acceptable for then Police Officer Patrick Pogan to do that.

A huge sigh of relief was heard throughout New York City.  Police anticipate the need to shove again.

Following the discussion  of why people shouldn’t needlessly antagonize cops, comes this opportune video in juxtaposition, via Turley. The setup comes via the Daily Pulp, reportedly from the attorney, Brad Cohen.

“We have several witnesses for the incident prior to the arrest.  The facts are essentially the train was going past the intersection, on SW 2nd Avenue, Fort Lauderdale.  My client, Brennen Hamilton, was waiting with his wife and friends for the train to pass.  My client leaned up against the rear of the police car. 

Officer Overcash approached my client and took him by the arm and said ‘Get your ass off the car. How would you like it if I leaned my ass on your car?’  My client remained silent and rolled his eyes. The Officer said ‘Really tough guy, you have something to say to me?’  My client remained silent.  Officer Overcash then said ‘Yeah, that’s right tough guy, you’ve got nothing to say.’ The train passed and my client and his wife went to his car and called Fort Lauderdale Police, to complain about the treatment he just received.  There wasn’t a Lt. or a Sgt. working at that time, so he left his number.  During the call he was asked for the Officer’s name and badge number.  He did not know that information. 

After getting off the phone he went back to Officer Overcash and asked him if he could please give him his badge number and name. “

Now for the video of what follows.

Unlike those wild, hotheaded kids, Hamilton conducts himself appropriately in all respects.  Note how well he was treated by Police Officer Overcash. who was quite careful to make sure he didn’t snap the cuffs on too tight.  Notice how Hamilton was left standing rather than thrown to the ground?  That’s the benefit of walking toward the police rather than forcing them to come to you. 

Say, what was his shield number again? 

There are two questions that I cannot, despite my constant struggle, answer: Do cops not know that their behavior is being videotaped and will come under scrutiny?  Even though their department will conduct a very thorough investigation before finding their conduct totally proper, they will be forever branded on the internet as falling shy of officer of the year?  Don’t they realize their kids watch these videos?

But Hamilton did not get beaten, so it’s not like being polite was a total waste of time as he was led away in cuffs for booking.

“While he is handcuffed and lying down, you see a black cop run up and kick him in square in the face. They’re punching and hitting him, punching and hitting him.”

The helplessness of a handcuffed man, lying on the ground, as the boot of a police officer coming full speed to his face, is more than I can stomach.  The Houston Chronicle  tells the story of the unnamed man who tried to run.  He was a burglary suspect,  When police stopped his car, he took off.  Some police officers find flight personally offensive.

Nothing happened, of course, until the Pat Lykos was provided a video from nearby Uncle Bob’s Self Storage.  Without the video, which has not yet been released, it was just another instance of police serving and protecting.

From viewing the videotape, Quanell X said it appears the arrested man was beaten by the officers after a chase.

 “You see the young man get out (of his car) and take off running — and you see a (patrol) car hit him,” he said. “When the car hit him, you see him lay all the way down and the cops just pounce on him like a pack of wolves pouncing on raw meat.

 “While he is handcuffed and lying down, you see a black cop run up and kick him in square in the face. They’re punching and hitting him, punching and hitting him.”

The image of a pack of wolves is a good one, but not one that everybody will share.  In a comment to the story, the sentiment that anyone who runs from the cops deserves a beating.  No doubt the cops agree.  It wasn’t just the flight, which forced them to exert themselves, and they might not have had enough time to digest their lunch, but the adrenaline rush that comes to people unused to physical exertion.  With that juice pulsing through your veins, its nearly impossible not to run up to a handcuffed man on the ground at full speed and kick him in the face.  Cops understand, though civilians like me will never get it.

A sergeant and seven officers were suspended (with pay) following disclosure of the videotape.  The District Attorney is investigating.  It takes a lot of investigating to determine whether it’s wrong to kick a handcuffed man in the face.  One can never be too careful when it comes to the lie of video.

The burglary suspect shouldn’t have fled.  But then, he’s the burglary suspect, and sometimes they flee.  Sometimes they flee because they are guilty.  Sometimes they flee because they are innocent.  Sometimes they just flee.  There’s a price to pay for flight, and the law can impose punishment appropriate to the wrong.

There is no law that sentences a person to be handcuffed, lying on the ground and kicked in the face by the boot of a cop.  While the image makes me sick to my stomach, I hear the applause of some locals for the fine work of the Houston Police Department. 

Whether some may be willing to dump another body into the hole of people unworthy of any real thought, I can’t say.  There will always be folks whose view of others, though never themselves or those they care about, is so harsh and simplistic that they feel nothing.  But the sentencing of Michelle Lyn Taylor, 34, isn’t easily ignored.

Her crime was putting the hand of a 13 year old boy on her brasier-covered breast.  Sexual offense involving children fall without my purview for a variety of reasons, and while some will think that this is a 13 year old boy’s fantasy, I’m unimpressed.  That said, let’s not lose any sense of proportionality.  As child molestation goes, this is as small, and harmless, as it gets.  Not right, for sure, but not the rape of a five year old either.

For Taylor, it doesn’t matter.  Nevada has determined, in a fit of one-size-fits-all legislating, that any lewd act with a person under 14 deserves life in prison.  I can hear the demagoguery as lawmakers exhort their saving the children, with a hand out for campaign contributions.  In the minds of voters, they picture the psycho brutally raping the beautiful, innocent little girl, and the only question asked is why not the death penalty.

Here is the other side of the picture, via Mike at Crime & Federalism :

There’s much to consider in this video.  The prosecutor’s effort to take no moral responsibility for the decision to prosecute Taylor for a crime that carried a life sentence.  The decision not to offer an appropriate plea bargain, thus sealing her fate upon conviction. 

The defense lawyer’s heartfelt effort to argue against a law that permitted no flexibility, to the point of breaking down when there was no place left to go.  A question persists why her arguments as to constitutionality, of both the law and sentence, weren’t presented before and after trial in writing, whether to present the argument and law in the most meaningful fashion, or to preserve the issue for appeal.

And then there’s the judge, whose casual demeanor toward his duty was painful to watch.  When he allowed defense counsel to pursue her constitutional argument over the prosecutor’s objection, the outcome became clear.  But his imposition of a life sentence for what, at best, can be describes as a trivial offense, without any indication that he was disturbed at being a grocery clerk for the politicians, was very troubling.  It was so routine, so inconsequential, but for the fact that Taylor was sentenced to life in prison.

We talk of ordinary injustice with much regularity, but are often unable to provide a clear picture into how this happens in courtrooms every day.  The sentence of Michelle Lyn Taylor is as ordinary as it comes.  And just as wrong.