Category Archives: Uncategorized

The High Price of a Free Meal

It sucks to be homeless in Brownsville, Texas.  First, because you’re homeless, which isn’t a great way to be under any circumstances. Second, because a non-profit agency, the Good Neighbor Settlement House on East Tyler Street, has cut a deal with the police to give you up.  From the Brownsville Herald :



Officials believed Jeffrey Paul Cutlip to be like any other homeless person roaming the streets of Brownsville looking for a place to shower and to get a bite to eat.

Then Cutlip made local and national news when, according to police, he confessed in Brownsville to various murders dating as far back as the 1970s in Oregon. Furthermore, a search revealed that Cutlip was listed as a sexual predator in Oregon’s sex offender inquiry system for convictions in 1982.

Cutlip turned out to be a confessed murderer, and nobody at the shelter knew. 


“He (Cutlip) had slipped below the radar,” Rosales said. “We did not know who the gentleman was. We had no idea he was wanted.”

Apparently, the local police decided that this can’t happen. While it’s understandable that they aren’t thrilled at the prospect that they have a murderer in their community who had “slipped below the radar,” they were determined that it never happen again. So a deal was struck.



In an attempt to identify people wanted by the law, the Brownsville Police Department and Good Neighbor Settlement House have signed an agreement whereby the police department will install a system to ID people going through the non-profit agency for services, officials said.


The system will help identify people wanted by local, state and federal law enforcement agencies. It also will help identify people if they are injured and require assistance, Rosales said.

Hungry? Thirsty? Cold? Tired?  No problem. As soon as you’re conclusively identified, your criminal history is checked and your cleared to be a homeless person of sufficiently sterling character, you will be welcome.  And if your background doesn’t meet our standards, you will still get food to eat, just at the hoosegow rather than the shelter.  Because it didn’t suck enough to be homeless before.

Using the basic necessities of survival as a wedge to control the poor is a time-honored American tradition.  After all, who better to coerce than the poor and hungry. It’s not like they have any clout to fight, or anybody with clout cares. 

In this case, one criminal appeared in their midst, though there is no indication that he did anything wrong at the Good Neighbor Settlement House to warrant their concern. But even one criminal is one too many. Think of the children?  And so neighborly cooperation ended with the shelter giving up the rights of those they purport to serve in order to keep the police, and community happy. 

There is a fair argument to be made that this is a non-profit, a voluntary organization that helps the poor. Thus, they are under no duty to provide food or shelter, and can put whatever restrictions they want on the charity they offer. After all, it’s not Good Neighbor’s fault the person is poor and homeless, and anyone who prefers to remain anonymous doesn’t have to enjoy their bounty.

It’s also worth noting that efforts like Good Neighbor have a reasonable concern that those invited in aren’t of the sort that will harm others. This too is a fair concern, as the poor are not only regularly treated, well, poorly, but are also the victims of crime themselves.  Protecting the poor from crime and violence is a worthy cause too.

The problem, of course, is the trade off of basic civil liberties, the right to be left alone, for subsistence.  Maybe Brownsville has so many shelters and food kitchens that the deal struck with Good Neighbor won’t leave anyone starving to death.  Maybe this one-off solution to a one-murderer problem won’t have any impact, or put them on a slippery slope where the poor lose all control over their rights for a cheese sandwich. 

But if the choice is starvation or relinquishment of basic constitutional rights, then it’s a problem. 

The use of poverty and hunger as a means of compelled law enforcement identification doesn’t seem to bother a great many people.  Some are unsympathetic because they think the poor did something to deserve to be poor, and are therefore unworthy of any rights. Some don’t care because they perceive the only people actually affected to be “criminals,” and don’t think them worthy of right. Most, I suspect, don’t care because it doesn’t affect them, and they’re more than happy to have the rights of others given away if it makes their lives even the tiniest bit safer. 

However, the desire of police to make their job easier at the expense of constitutional rights, starts with the least powerful among us.  Even poor people, hungry people, have the right to be left alone.  Assuming one believes they really shouldn’t be left to starve in the streets in the greatest nation on earth, making their survival contingent on surrendering basic rights to police is wrong in itself, and puts everyone on a slippery slope.

So yeah, it sucks to be homeless in Brownsville. It sucks even worse if you’ve got something to hide and are forced to choose between life and jail.  But at least the Good Neighbor Settlement House and the police are friends again.











Law, Integrity and Prestige Whoring

When Justin Peter took over the “crime beat” at Slate, there was both  trepidation and hilarity among criminal defense lawyers. His subjects were trivial and salacious, and the content was ignorant. It wasn’t just that he was ill-equipped to write about the law, but that he stood on a big soapbox and spewed dangerous gibberish. There was too much erroneous information being spread already, and the last thing needed was Slate making people stupider.

The shock of seeing Justin Peters name in the first sentence of George Washington Lawprof Orin Kerr’s post at  Volokh Conspiracy was jarring.  Whether or not one agrees with Orin on any particular topic, no one would deny that he’s a serious person with regard to law, and computer crime in particular. And here he was, touting some no-account slacker on the most serious and controversial (and grossly over-written) topic in computer crime in years.

Orin tipped his hat to Howard Bashman’s  How Appealing for the source. Bashman is a long-standing aggregator of law-related articles, having been firmly established well before SJ arrives in the blawgosphere.  The content reflected there comes from main stream media, major internet media and a handful of blogs that have impressed Bashman as being sufficiently prestigious to be worthy of his notice. It hasn’t changed much in the past five years that I’ve watched, and I can recall only one time SJ was ever mentioned there.  I don’t believe any of the other criminal law blawgs have ever been mentioned. (I have  since been correct by  Gideon that Bashman linked to him recently, and did so in the past, as Gid doesn’t want anyone to think he isn’t sufficiently prestigious.)

The Justin Peters article is very long and detailed.  Surprisingly, it’s quite well written, suggesting that he’s a far better writer (or had a far better editor) than was reflected in his Slate Crime Blog work. Whether his content is accurate about Aaron Swartz’s life can’t be said, as I lack knowledge to opine whether he’s captured the real story, myth or something else. But he repeats, early in the story, the accurate  but irrelevant bit about the statutory max, waiting until the end of the article to mention that it bore no connection to the plea discussions.

From the aspects of the story about which I have some basis to opine, Peters didn’t get it. Much of what he wrote about MIT was wrong, from misunderstanding what “hacker” means there to the open culture. But it’s when he gets to the prosecution that things go seriously awry. Well written, but wrong.

After calling it a “very strong piece,” Orin notes what he sees as worthy of a “small criticism”:


In my view, Peters errs a bit in his reporting about the strength of the government’s case. For example, Peters doesn’t question the optimism expressed by Swartz’s lawyer that he had made strong legal arguments in his motions to suppress. From the motions I have seen, and the arguments referenced in the article, he hadn’t. Also, Peters’ conclusion that Swartz’s expert Alex Stamos had “a strong counter-argument” to the government’s case is overly generous in light of the relevant legal standard (which neither Peters nor Stamos explores in any detail).

Despite this, Orin calls the post “excellent.” Perhaps as a lifestyle piece, but not as an article about a prosecution that resulted in a suicide.

If you can spend the time it takes to get to the end of the piece, there are some huge red flags that are neither recognized nor explained.  Why, in this particular case, did this boy millionaire spend his fortune on his defense, to the point that he was forced to call friends to beg for financial support of his defense?  Why was he on his third attorney at the time of his death? Why did he ultimately pick a lawyer from San Francisco to defend him?  He was pals with Harvard lawprof Larry Lessig, but couldn’t find talent closer to home? He was beloved by so many, but couldn’t find anyone to handle a relatively small case for less than a king’s fortune? 

Most disturbingly, Peters writes:



On Jan. 9, 2013, Peters called Heymann to discuss the upcoming evidentiary hearing. “Toward the end of it,” Peters recalls, “I said ‘Can’t we find some way to make this case go away?’ I remember saying to them, ‘It’s just not right for this case to ruin Aaron’s life.’ ” The prosecutor responded with a familiar refrain: the government would never agree to a deal that didn’t include jail time, and if Swartz was convicted at trial, they would seek a guidelines sentence in the range of seven years. As usual, the defense and the prosecution could reach no common ground. The case—scheduled to go to trial on April 1, barring further delays—would continue.

“As usual”? Plea agreements are the usual. Peters gets it completely backwards. I’m surprised Orin didn’t pick this up. The offer on the table was a few months. Elliot Peters (Swartz’s third lawyer and presumably no relation to Justin Peters, the guy who writes at Slate) was, according to the article, increasingly optimistic about his chances for suppression.

As for the prosecutor, Steve Heymann’s, response, it’s of the sort that defense lawyers shake off daily. This is the game of negotiation, trying to make disagreement more costly than agreement. Both sides play the game. Yet nowhere is there any mention of the fact that the government can seek anything they want, but judges sentence. So what if Heymann will seek seven years (even if it’s true)? And Peters will seek probation. I have to believe that Orin knows this. I refuse to believe that he doesn’t get how these things happen.

While the Slate post is long and detailed, and definitely far better written than anything I’ve read of Justin Peters before, it’s unclear that it does anything more than perpetuate public ignorance and feed the myths surrounding this case and public’s lack of understanding of how criminal law happens.  That it comes from Slate, and more specifically from the hand of Justin Peters, doesn’t surprise me. That a law professor of some renown would call it excellent, or that a respected, if stiff, aggregator would find this more worthy of inclusion than post from credible sources, makes me sad.

The problem, from my seat, is prestige whoring, and it’s a problem that has become  more evident with this case and its aftermath.  There are the big guys on the internet and the small guys. For those of you unaware, the practical blawgosphere, meaning the part of the blogosphere that deals with law, is a tiny, inconsequential spot in an incredibly huge space.

There are a handful of “bigger” blogs that get the occasional notice from those outside the law space, such as Volokh Conspiracy and SCOTUSBlog, when their particular expertise is useful, and my sense is they adore the occasional recognition, perhaps too much.  But the major sources of information, including Huffington Post, Gawker and, sadly, Slate, dwarf the blawgosphere by magnitudes. 

While there doesn’t appear to be much lawyers can do to compel the major players to give a damn and get their information right, as we reflect an inconsequential perspective of accuracy when they’re only concerned with story and eyeballs, it’s problematic when even those of us who are engaged in the blawgosphere, fighting daily to illuminate rather than make people stupider and help sell advertising, are so blinded by the prestige of the big boys that we demure on accuracy, and with it, integrity, and call crap “excellent” in the hope of getting a crumb or a nod.  Are we willing to sell out that cheap?



The Law From The Bottom

St. Louis lawprof  Eric Miller discovers a problem that lawyers have faced forever: Scholars see the law from the top down, while lawyers see the law from the bottom up.  From  Prawfsblawg (with apologies for the incredibly excessive length and needlessly pedantic tone):



In the words of a friend of mine, who worked for years at a very prominent public interest law firm in the South, “everyone is overlooking everything.”  By this, I mean that the adjudication portion of the criminal procedure syllabus for the most part leaves students with no idea what goes in the sorts of low-level criminal courts so nicely described by Amy Bach in her book “Ordinary Injustice,” which might be thought of as a journalistic follow-up to Malcolm Feeley’s pathbreaking work, “The Punishment is the Process.” 


I’m going to hazard the thesis that the reason we have no idea what goes on in the courts that process the bulk of our criminal cases is an “elite” focus on doctrine.  First, these courts are largely invisible to “doctrine.”  They do not produce many opinions, their other operations are hard to access from the comfort of a law-school office or library, and so there is a paucity of materials readily at hand produced by the courts. Because of our reliance on “well reasoned opinions” (or at least pedagogically-useful-badly-reasoned ones), the gold standard for teaching criminal procedure is either the elite federal court system, or the differently elite state appellate court system, which do produce opinions that are readily accessible from a computer or library. 


Second, state trial and (especially) municipal courts are often bereft of “doctrine.”  There is little doctrine in municipal court, where lawyering depends upon interpersonal interactions between members of the court “workgroup” (as the sociologists put it).  In these courts, appeals to doctrine may actually be counterproductive: a nuclear option utilized only when workgroup relationships break down or do not yet exist. 

The TL;dr version is lower courts don’t write opinions, so it’s hard for scholars to figure out what they’re doing from a distance, and that they don’t really apply doctrine as much as get along and keep the wheels grinding.  But at least Miller recognizes that this is the world of law that humanity deals with, rather than the rarified (and far more convenient) world of Supreme Court opinions.

What makes this matter is that Miller isn’t speaking to the obvious, and perpetually boring, scholarly output, law review articles, that serve no discernable purpose beyond demonstrating worthiness of tenure. He’s talking about what the syllabus should cover in a law school criminal procedure class. 

Casebooks, and thus discussion, questions, tests and papers, tend to fixate on the big cases, the broad doctrine, from which criminal law is comprised.  And it must, if someone is to learn what it is criminal law is meant to look like.  It’s up to its eyeballs in doctrine, even if its primarily honored in the breach.  But the individual holdings of Supreme Court decisions are not merely kinda puny in the trenches; they’re largely ignored. 

“Elite” court decisions come with a remarkably clean and clear set of facts, which means that they’ve made a decision along the way to “find” some facts and not others, where the evidence could have gone either way and presented a  monumental headache until the case reached the stage where inconvenient facts simply disappear. 

Law students tend not to realize how ambiguous and convoluted the law is in the trenches, because they only see decisions where all the conflict is sanitized into a nearly obvious state of existence. Cases are never as clean in the trial courts. Facts are in dispute, and there are usually some fine arguments either way.  While facts must be found in order to achieve a result, that doesn’t make the “found facts” actual facts, but merely the facts the finder prefers. 

By the time a case makes it up a few levels, assuming it does as few cases go beyond one appeal as of right, facts are presented as indisputable.  Opinions recite them as a given, as if there could be no real dispute what happened. This is a beloved, if not necessary, legal fiction.

In the trenches, little is clear.  Lawyers for both sides fight over the most trivial of details and interpretations. Lawyers offer wholly different, completely irreconcilable versions of events. Neither judges nor juries have a magic power to figure out which, if either, is true. It’s ugly. It’s messy. It would make for terrible pedagogical fodder because there is no real way to arrive at correct solution. 

And so, students are handed a world of law that doesn’t exist and they will likely never experience. To the law student, the world of law is the cleansed Supreme Court version, not the stench of conflict and sweat of a criminal trial court.  The student is taught black letter law, doctrines best suited to the opening of an elite court opinion that means little to a trial judge. Ironically, the trial judge will make life and death decisions in less time than it takes to write a blawg post, and often with less thought.

Amy Bach, in her seminal work Ordinary Injustice, recognized that the real work of law grinds out in a mindless, nasty, brutish fashion. Even though Miller seems to say that lawprofs do their students, and their scholarship, no good by spending all their time in the world of elite law as opposed to the place where the rest of us dwell, it’s unclear whether this epiphany helps scholars to find their way to the courthouse.

They wouldn’t like it there anyway. It’s filled with vulgar lawyers and poorly dressed defendants, overworked judges, too many of whom mail it in because they’ve come to view their jobs as keeping the wheels grinding or getting the bad guys out of their courtroom.  That’s the law, and I doubt there are many lawprofs who even realize it, no less have the capacity to teach it.

And yet they keep churning out new lawyers to work in the trenches who think the law happens the way it’s described in Supreme Court opinions.





It Couldn’t End Well (Update)

It started for mundane reasons. Two Cleveland officers, David Siefer and James Hummel, wanted to stop a 1979 Chevy Malibu because they suspected that it held drugs. They claimed the driver failed to use a turn signal, which is all that’s needed these post-Whren days.  Had the driver pulled over, this wouldn’t even be a footnote in the law. He didn’t, and a chase ensued.

From the Cleveland Plain Dealer :



Officers David Siefer and James Hummel were following the Malibu near Clark and Quigley avenues when they broadcast over police radio that they saw the passenger turn in her seat, get onto her knees and extend both arms toward the rear window as if she was holding a gun. They also thought the passenger was a man.


“He’s pointing the gun. He’s pointing the gun out the back window. Heads up. Heads up. Passenger is pointing a gun out the back window. Everybody be careful,” Siefer said.

There was no gun.  Afterward, the police tried desperately to find a gun, going so far as to use metal detectors to check storm basins for a weapon that might have been tossed from the car. No gun.  But once the call went out, adrenalin flowed. 

Sixty-two officers joined in the chase, 59 of whom had no permission to do so and violated police policy.  Whether they all wanted in on a big bust, or felt the need to protect their brother cops isn’t clear. What is clear is that the radio calls combined with the number of cops created a toxic situation that ended in the deaths of two people.



The investigation also revealed the pursuit lasted 22 minutes, reached speeds in excess of 100 miles per hour, and that suspects Timothy Russell, who was intoxicated and had cocaine in his system, and Malissa Williams, who also had cocaine in her system and was a diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic, never had a weapon.

It was destined to go bad. According to reports, the Malibu backfired several times preceding and during the chace.  It could have been gunfire. When the first officer, Wilfredo Diaz, opened fire on the car, the fusillade began.



Despite varying levels of experience, all 13 officers who fired their guns — and many who did not — told investigators they thought deadly force was needed to stop a violent encounter with two suspects who they believed were armed.


“I’ve never been more afraid in my life,” said Officer Michael Brelo, who fired 49 shots that night. “I thought my partner and I were being shot and that we were going to be killed.”


Brelo, according to his account, climbed onto the trunk and then the top of a zone car and reloaded his gun, firing rounds into the Malibu. An Iraq war veteran, Brelo said he saw “the suspects moving and I could not understand why they are still moving, shooting at us. Even through Iraq, I never fired my weapon. I never have been so afraid in my life.”


Of course, there were no shots being fired at cops, but just cops shooting at the car, and each other.


Many of the officers who heard “shots fired” broadcast over police radio mistakenly assumed the gunfire was coming from the suspects, the report reveals.



Officers recounted for investigators seeing guns, objects that looked like guns or one of the suspects loading guns in the middle school parking lot — which could not have been possible at that point in the incident. No gun was found in the car.


Believing is seeing, and the cops saw their lives flash before their eyes.  Blood pumping. Adrenalin flowing. The sound of bullets being fired. The fear of death palpable. And nearly 140 shots fired at a couple in an old Malibu.

Ohio Attorney General Mike Dewine completed an investigation of this incident, resulting in a lengthy report.  At the bottom line, it detailed a massive failure :




“We have violations all over the place, a lack of command and control,” DeWine explained.


“By failing to provide adequate structure and support, the system failed the officers,” he continued. “The number of vehicles involved contributed to crossfire that risked the lives of many, many officers. It’s a miracle officers weren’t killed.”


That miracle didn’t extent to the two in the Malibu.  Some will pass off their deaths as the consequence of the bad decision to flee, and there is some merit to the point.  Then again, people high on crack tend to make bad decisions.  It’s not good, but it hardly warrants the death penalty.  Then, group dynamics comes into play, where some inadvertent and erroneous information spread across a large group of cops, most of whom had no business being involved but couldn’t stay away, created an atmosphere where there was no choice but to shoot first.

Often, the absence of policy, or sound policy, is faulted for something like this, a massive screw up on every level.  But according to AG Dewine, they had policy in place, and it just didn’t happen.  “A lack of command and control,” which means that things happened despite policy and training. The cops did what they did.  The system to stop them from doing so failed.

As this situation shows, things can spiral out of control easily, with a poor decision, a misperception, combined with the spread of fear. The First Rule of Policing kicks in, and the rest is fate.  The message of Dewine’s report is that no amount of policy or training is going to stop scared men with guns from making sure that they go home for dinner that night, even if it means that two sad, pathetic drug-addled people lie dead. 

Update: Police union president Jeff Follmer is calling on the Cleveland Chief, Michael McGrath, to take one for the team and resign.



Follmer repeatedly said that the entire situation could have been avoided if the suspects would have simply stopped their vehicle.


Follmer concluded that police officers “did their job that day” and said that no disciplinary action or demotions should come as a result.


What? Did you expect anything else?


H/T FritzMuffKnuckle





 

Real Sentencing: Not Nearly As Interesting

At Popehat, Ken does something that needed to be done in his post delightfully entitled Crime: Whale Sushi. Sentence: ELEVENTY MILLION YEARS. A bit hyperbolic, since everyone knows that the sentence for whale sushi is never longer then 90,000,000 years, but Ken is allowed to stretch the truth a bit to make a point.



People reporting on federal criminal justice — whether journalists or bloggers — routinely report on the statutory maximum sentence that a defendant could hypothetically get, an oft-ridiculous figure calculated by taking all the charged crimes and adding up the maximum punishment for each. This is usually followed by some sort of pronouncement that THIS PERSON CHARGED OF MINOR CRIMES FACES MORE JAIL TIME THAN YOU’D GET IF YOU BEAT A TODDLER TO DEATH WITH AN UNCONSCIOUS NUN WHILE RAPING A BLIND LIBRARIAN, or words to that effect.


The problem is this number — the sum of the maximum sentence for all the crimes charged in a federal case — usually bears almost no relation to the sentence the defendant actually faces.

Ken goes on to provide a working explanation of the federal Sentencing Guidelines, which (according to the USSC, at least) still provide the starting point for federal sentences.  Every criminal defense lawyer who practices in federal court is well aware of the impact of the Guidelines. Indeed, one of the first things we do is get a working understanding of how the Guidelines would apply in a case, so that we can explain to our clients what they are facing. 

For those who think these stories of ELEVENTY MILLION YEARS influence plea decisions, they fail to comprehend that there are lawyers involved who, assuming they know their function, have provided a more accurate assessment. That said, the numbers under the Guidelines are often high enough to scare a defendant into a plea. The statutory maximums aren’t needed for that, even if we didn’t dispel the silliness off the top.

The fact is that stories of crime and punishment have long fascinated people, and so they are reported with abandon.  By abandon, I mean inaccurately. Repeating statutory max’s is a common mechanism to catch people’s interest, to take the story from the sublime to the ridiculous.  After all, who wouldn’t be astounded that whale sushi could land a chef in prison for ELEVENTY MILLION YEARS!!!

The problem is that it makes people stupider.  This became painful during discussion of the Aaron Swartz suicide, where story after story recited that he faced decades in prison.  Of course, there was no potential of that ever happening, but this framed the discussion and skewed any potential for meaningful discussion of what was wrong with the system. It detracted from focus on the real problems by presenting an absurd strawman problem. So many fine minds lost to such nonsense.

Whether non-lawyer or lawyer who doesn’t practice criminal law, the interest in the criminal justice system remains strong and broad.  This is a good thing, as the more people interested means the more people who will pay attention to the things that go horribly wrong and the need to change for the better.  But that positive is obscured when the wrong isn’t real, but just a rhetorical trick played by the ignorant or deceitful. 

While many reporters simply don’t understand that these numbers are a meaningless sham, some do and play them up anyway.  It creates controversy and gets them readers, and that’s more important than illuminating.  Ironically, when a criminal defense lawyer tries to straighten out the misinformation, we’re frequently told that we’re the idiots who don’t get it. After all, how can so many credible sources be wrong?




Since Ken’s busy, I’m just writing to thank Instapundit, Boing Boing, Volokh, Will Wheaton, John Scalzi, Something Awful, Mark Cuban, Radley Balko, Gawker, Deadspin, Ars Technica, Hot Air, Zero Hedge, and James Taranto at the Wall Street Journal’s Best of the Web Today for all the links to this post. We hope your readers will stick around.


Special thanks to Paul at the New York Times (you know who you are) and all the guys at Reddit who pushed this post to the front page. Keep rockin’.

Ken’s post was a public service. I wish I had written it, but deeply appreciate that Ken did so.  If this takes some of the pizzazz out of the stories for you, and makes them a bit less fascinating, them’s the breaks. From where I sit, the stories are harsh enough when based on reality rather than some statutory max flight of fantasy. Better we discuss the real issues than engage in fantasy.

Assume the Worst

It’s not clear when exactly it happens. Some of my younger buddies on twitter and in the blawgosphere tell me that a lawyer is “pretty good” because they’ve become friends with them, followed their twits, read their posts, and, well, like them.  Maybe it’s age 40? 50?

As the sage curmudgeon, Mark Herrmann writes at Above the Law, there comes a point when the glass is no longer half full.

I don’t live in Lake Wobegon.

I live in Lake WoeIsMe: All of the children are a little below average.


Or maybe I just have a bad attitude.


I’ll be frank: If I just met you, I assume that you’re inept. Not because you necessarily are inept, but because I’ve been blindsided too often in the past by the mistakes of people who I foolishly believed to be competent. That ain’t gonna happen again.


I live next door to Mark. The other day, a lawyer asked me for some advice on where to take his practice. We spoke on the phone for a while, during which I asked a bunch of questions about where his practice was and how he got there. It did nothing to answer his questions, but then, it wasn’t my purpose. Before discussing where he wanted to go, I needed to know who he was, how he thought, what his motivations were. I could not simply assume he was a great young lawyer who had a clear understanding of his purpose.  As it turned out, his answers made it clear to me that this was a lawyer with a great future, and someone I wanted to help.  But I didn’t take it for granted.


As I’ve written before, I don’t assume that you’re inept because I know that you’re inept. When we first meet, I don’t know you at all. Rather, I assume that you’re inept because you’re haunted by the ghosts of incompetents past, whose memories stick in my craw. I don’t have to hedge against you being good; that would be a welcome surprise. I have to hedge against you being bad; that would ruin my life (as has happened too often in years gone by).

Nearly every young lawyer attributes fabulous skills to herself.  Just ask and they’ll tell you how awesome they are.  When you question their self-assessment, they get angry. Old jerk. Douche. Mean curmudgeon. It’s understandable, as no one has ever doubted their awesomeness before, and every young lawyer knows how stupid and incompetent old lawyers are.

But Herrmann’s message isn’t that you aren’t a great lawyer; it’s that old lawyers have been burned by self-proclaimed geniuses too many times to assume it’s true. We don’t take it for granted with each other. We don’t take it for granted with new lawyers. We assume the worst. Horrible.

When confronted by a young lawyer whose skills are unproven, and whose reaction to my questioning their abilities and work ethic is to inform me how much better she is than all those miserable, lazy, incompetent old lawyers she’s seen, I pose a question: If inexperienced lawyers are so smart and hardworking, far more so than old lawyers, how does it happen that the young lawyer grows so much stupider and lazier after a decade or two of experience?  They hate this question. 



The guy (or gal) who I’ve worked with before and who has proven (as opposed to asserted) that he’s a fine lawyer. Assertions don’t mean anything; the proof is in the summary judgment papers.


If I don’t know the right lawyer for a matter, then I locate someone who’s proven himself to be competent, and I ask that person for a recommendation. It’s true this makes me nervous, but it’s far better than the alternative of trusting some unknown clown who tells me that he thinks he’s a good lawyer.


Curmudgeons call people “guys” and “gals.” It’s not sexist, just the language we were raised with.  But some old lawyers, this one included, has no plans to refer a case to anyone I know from twitter. I take referrals seriously, and won’t send a human being to a lawyer I assume to be inept. So your twits are cute? Informative? Cool?  That’s wonderful, but it doesn’t make you a good lawyer. 

This isn’t a slap in the face to new lawyers. I know it feels that way, but it’s really not. You haven’t suffered the experience of the screw-up that should never happen, the simplest of things that can never go wrong going wrong.  Stick around for a while and you will. When you look into the eyes of a client and offer solace by saying “I thought she knew what she was doing,” there will be no comfort taken. The rest of the world won’t be as forgiving of your mistakes as you are.  The rest of world doesn’t really care about you. Just like you, people really only care about themselves.

And so the glass will be half-full, and you will be inept, and something will go wrong, and curmudgeons expect it, anticipate it, and do everything in their power to stop it from happening.  This means we nudge you, tell you stuff that you think is obvious and make you feel as if we’re treating you like some monumentally dumb fool.  “You don’t trust me?” you say. No. I don’t. I can’t afford to trust you, and I have no intention of letting things go south and then, after the mistake that can never happen happens, have to clean up your mess.

Does this happen to a person at age 40? It’s hard to say, but it comes with the experience of having seen too much go wrong to assume that things will go right.  The sooner this realization happens, however, the sooner you can be trusted. Once you recognize that Reagan was right about one thing, hope for the best but prepare for the worst, you have half a chance of getting things done right.

Until then, when you’re still filled with your awesomeness, you can’t be trusted and curmudgeons, like me, will assume the worst.

CJ Lippman Proposes NY Bail Overhaul

In his State of the Judiciary message, New York Court of Appeals Chief Judge Jonathan Lippman announced a proposal to overhaul New York’s bail scheme, long castigated for keeping poor defendants charged with trivial offenses in jail for the inability to make bail. 

The current bail structure has pushed defendants to agree to guilty pleas to nonincarceratory sentences as a quicker way to get out of jail than fighting the charges.  Better to be guilty and free than innocent and in jail for the year or more that it takes to win. From the New York Law Journal :

“Our overriding goal must be to ensure that pretrial detention is reserved only for those defendants who cannot safely be released or who cannot be relied upon to return to court—and to do all we can to eliminate the risk that New Yorkers are incarcerated simply because they lack the financial means to make bail,” Lippman said.

But as so often happens with any proposed “correction” to criminal law, one hand giveth and the other taketh away.  The takeaway here, unfortunately, is huge.


The chief judge urged passage of an amendment to the bail statute that would allow judges to consider the risk that defendants will commit additional offenses while awaiting trial in addition to the risk that they will not appear in court.

The current bail statute, Criminal Procedure Law §510.30(2)(a), only permits judges to consider whether bail is needed and sufficient to secure a defendant’s return to court.  The new proposal authorizes judges to enjoy psychic powers, seeing into the future to divine whether a defendant will commit crimes while out. 

On the plus side, the chief judge proposes a presumption that nonviolent defendants be released:


At the same time, he called for the creation of a statutory presumption to make clear that where defendants are charged with non-violent offenses they will be released pretrial with the least restrictive requirements possible unless prosecutors demonstrate they poses a legitimate risk to public safety or of flight.

While a statutory presumption is a step forward, the caveat sucks much of the wind out of its sails. While it’s unclear what showing would be needed to overcome the presumption, it’s fairly easy to imagine that most low-level defendants have a rap sheet in the land of Stop-and-Frisk that will make it easy to show a persistent life of crime, petty though it may be. 

Aside from the problem of more than a few judges lacking the mystical power to do so, for a great many of the same defendants now held inappropriately, who are drug addicts held on possession, the answer is almost invariably going to be that they are extremely like to go out and buy more drugs. They’re addicts. What else are they going to do?  And thus, the new criterion suggests that they be subject to bail again. Problem solved.

The impetus for these changes appear to be the elimination of bail bondsmen, who Lippman sees as a blight on the system.



Critics of the current system complain that it effectively keeps poor people accused of low-level, non-violent offenses in jail because they cannot get bonds for relatively small amounts, such as $1,000 or $2,000. It is unprofitable for bondsmen to deal with such clients, said Steven Banks, attorney-in-chief of the Legal Aid Society.


In his address, Lippman said his reforms would lessen the reliance of the criminal justice system on a bail bond industry that exercises “enormous influence over who is released pending trial and who stays in jail” with “precious little public accountability.”


While the point about bail bondsmen is well taken, the focus seems misdirected. The concern ought to be the defendants held on $1,000 bail rather than the bondsmen who won’t bail them out.  Poor defendants are often considered poor risks, given a lack of sufficient community ties, unstable residences, unemployment, few family ties. 

Even when charged with low-level nonviolent offenses, bail is commonly set at $500 or $1,000, far more money than they can possibly make. Why? These aren’t hardened criminals determined to flee justice, but just poor. The solution has always been at hand, to stop knee-jerk setting bail without any real basis to believe they’re going to abscond. If they can’t make $1,000 bail, chances are they won’t flee to a Caribbean paradise to avoid the consequences of public urination.

Notably missing from CJ Lippman’s explanation is a concern that these same defendants happily plead guilty just to get out.  When faced with $500 bail, which they can’t make, and three days community service and they’re free in minutes, opting for the latter is a no-brainer. Far better to avoid a year in jail awaiting trial than to take a trivial hit. Guilt or innocence? That’s only a concern for people who can afford such luxuries.

And after a plea of convenience or two, the same defendant who would otherwise be subject to the presumption of release now falls into the recidivist category, where the arraignment assistant holds up the rap sheet to demonstrate his risk of committing additional offense. We’re right back to where we started.

One of the pieces of the system that’s too often ignored is that complaints about the current state of affairs doesn’t necessarily mean change will be better. While this proposal certainly means change, particularly by adding a previously unavailable consideration as a reason to impose bail (no doubt as a hat tip to the constant public fear for safety) that will make reasonable bail increasingly more difficult for any defendant charged with a violent crime, and thus a potential threat to community safety, it doesn’t necessarily mean change for the better.

While there is no doubt that something needs to be done about dubiously-needed bail set for the poor that coerces guilty pleas, the problem isn’t evil bail bondsmen and the solution has nothing to do with their elimination.  Judges have always had the ability, indeed the obligation, to set reasonable bail or release, and the answer lies with the use of that authority to stop punishing the poor to keep the wheels of justice grinding. 

As for the new community safety prong, that’s a disaster waiting to happen, where pseudo-omniscient judges and prosecutors will enjoy untestable magical skills to see into the future, making challenges to crimes that have yet to happen impossible to sustain. 

So we have change. It’s just not good change. In fact, it’s likely to be pretty bad change. Happy now?

That Run Down Feeling in Wichita

Ever get that run down feeling?  You know, the one where a police car going very fast without its lights or sirens on runs you down.  It’s happening with some frequency in Wichita, Kansas lately, and apparently the locals aren’t entirely thrilled about it.



Since 2007, three people in Wichita have been killed in accidents with officers who were allegedly speeding and did not have their lights and sirens on. The city has paid out $500,000 to settle two lawsuits. A third lawsuit, filed in December, is pending.


Two attorneys representing families of the people killed and one attorney defending one of the officers involved say the department needs to recognize that officers speed and change its policy to allow officers to use lights and sirens more often to warn other motorists.“Why can’t we just acknowledge that there’s a tendency to speed … sometimes a tendency to speed greatly, because they’re out there doing a service?” asked Wichita lawyer Craig Shultz, who represented the family of a person killed in 2007.

Of course, the Wichita Police Department isn’t thrilled with the fact that its officers are mowing down citizens right and left, even if its only three people in five years.  It’s the sort of thing that creates a division in the community, where people get miffed at losing loved ones to cops speeding around for no particular reason and take out grandpa or some sweet young mother of three.  Bad press too.

On the flip side, cops get to speed at will. Like free donuts, it’s a perk of the job, and has been since they were handed the keys to the cruiser and told “have fun out there.” 



In reality, they speed.


“We know that officers speed, we don’t like it, and we will aggressively pursue officers that are speeding,” said Lt. Doug Nolte, a department spokesman.

Doesn’t it seem like the next line should be “but boys will be boys?”

There is no excuse for this to happen.  Contrary to most people’s assumption, the police aren’t authorized to break the law any more than anyone else, and that includes speeding (or running red lights) for fun.  If they are on an emergency call, they are authorized to use their lights and siren and exceed the speed limit. If they aren’t, then they are supposed to drive just like anyone else. Maybe even better than anyone else, given how badly most people drive.



The department limits the use of lights and sirens because it can distract motorists and officers and cause accidents, Nolte said. Lights and sirens aren’t always effective because sometimes motorists don’t see, hear or heed the equipment, he said.

A rather odd explanation of the use of emergency equipment.  While it may be true that lights and sirens are distracting, isn’t that what they’re supposed to be?  The purpose is to alert drivers to an official vehicle engaged in an emergency operation. They don’t put lights and sirens on police cruisers so they can speed to the donut shop as soon as fresh crullers hit the shelves. 

And sure, some drivers ignore lights and sirens. And some people walk into walls. Is this meant as a justification for speeding without lights and sirens?  Is this meant to explain why cops speed for fun?

But all is not lost, as the Wichita Police Department, after careful consideration, has devised a plan to address the situation.
The department wants the public to report officers who are speeding without lights and sirens or driving unsafely, he said.

There are so many ways in which the Department could address the problem, whether from a policy against their officers speeding with a sufficient sanction in place to make it in the cop’s interest to slow down, to technological solutions such as GPS or “snapshot” type registers of speed and equipment usage. But instead of doing what they can on their end, they’ve chosen the pacify the public solution of telling people they should report cops to cops for speeding.

At least they will have a good laugh about it back at the stationhouse, but the problem remains that cops speed:


One of the root problems is that “police routinely speed,” said Geoffrey Alpert, a University of South Carolina professor of criminology who has studied traffic issues for 20 years. In a world where police don’t get ticketed by fellow officers when they break traffic laws while off-duty, it gives officers a “sense of impunity,” Alpert said.


Apparently, they have a GPS system in place to monitor police driving already:



A lot of departments have GPS capability to check speeds of their patrol cars. “It’s a problem that needs to be monitored,” he said.


The Wichita Police Department uses a countywide system that allows supervisors to check patrol car speeds and officers’ driving, and some officers have been disciplined as a result, Nolte said.


What apparently isn’t happening, despite the systems and alleged discipline is that the root problem of police culture, that they can break the law with impunity, has not changed.  So what if they run down a few people from time to time. Them’s the breaks.

There are certain risks inherent in police work, which many refuse to accept and most don’t like one bit. But as police perform their function, they are entitled to be defensive rather than allow themselves to be put at risk of harm.  As much as people fear the police entering a location where a potentially dangerous suspect may be with their guns drawn, and as experience dictates they should, there is a sound reason for permitting them to do so, and we can only hope they have the training and experience not to pull the trigger first and determine who they’re shooting at second.

But there is no excuse for running people down.  Much as cops consider the right to speed a perk of the job, killing people for the sake of your convenience is just plain stupid and sick.  That Wichita shifts the duty to the public, as if there is any chance of that changing things, is foolish and reflects a lack of concern and respect for their citizens. 

If they want to stop improper speeding by cops, just do it. This is public pacification, which will last only until they run down the next person.

H/T FritzMuffKnuckle

The President’s Defense

NBC has obtained a  New York Times :


Obama administration lawyers have asserted that it would be lawful to kill a United States citizen if “an informed, high-level official” of the government decided that the target was a ranking figure in Al Qaeda who posed “an imminent threat of violent attack against the United States” and if his capture was not feasible.

It adopts an elastic definition of an “imminent” threat, saying it is not necessary for a specific attack to be in process when a target is found if the target is generally engaged in terrorist activities aimed at the United States. And it asserts that courts should not play a role in reviewing or restraining such decisions.

The white paper states that “judicial enforcement of such orders would require the court to supervise inherently predictive judgments by the president and his national security advisers as to when and how to use force against a member of an enemy force against which Congress has authorized the use of force.”

The paper, a rhetorical exercise in drawing circles, cherry-picks aspects of American law, international law of war and the metaphysical need of protecting life, while ignoring the most basic problems inherent in the idea that one branch of government, on its own and without review by any other, can decide when an American citizen is sufficiently dangerous that he can be killed.


Targeting a member of an enemy force who poses an imminent threat of violent attack to the United States is not unlawful. It is a lawful act of national self defense.

This is war because Congress says so. The president has a duty to defend the nation because Congress says so. And if a person is deemed a threat, now or later or whenever because it’s hard to say when war isn’t quite war, the president has the authority to execute a “lethal operation” to take him out.

Due process?


Were the target of a lethal operation a U.S. citizen who may have rights under the Due Process Clause and the Fourth Amendment, that individual’s citizenship would not immunize him from a lethaI operation. Under the traditional due process balancing analysis of Mathews v. Eldridge, we recognize that there is no private interest more weighty than a person’s interest in his life. But that interest must be balanced against the United States’ interest in forestalling the threat of violence and death to other Americans that arises from an individual who is a senior operational leader of al-Q’aida or an associated force of al-Q’aida and who is engaged in plotting against the United States.
On the one side, there is the “weighty” interest in a person’s life. On the other, there is the interest in “forestalling the threat of violence” by someone “plotting” against us.  So the president gets to do his own balancing test and decide. Not that this changes the equation much, but without even the barest limitation of actual definition of who is a “senior operational leader” or how imminent the threat being plotted might be. If one was to be cynical about this, this is essentially carte blanche to wipe out anyone involved, including American citizens.

Consider whether anyone decided to hand over this degree of power to kill to the president:


Hina Shamsi, director of the American Civil Liberties Union’s National Security Project, called the paper “a profoundly disturbing document,” and said: “It’s hard to believe that it was produced in a democracy built on a system of checks and balances. It summarizes in cold legal terms a stunning overreach of executive authority — the claimed power to declare Americans a threat and kill them far from a recognized battlefield and without any judicial involvement.”

This is the quintessential “might makes right” argument, justified by the government’s paternalistic “trust me” rationale.  If they kill them, they deserve it.  Why? Because we say so.

To the extent we hold dear certain values that distinguish America, the ones we use whenever questioned as to what makes our constitutional republic a better place than other nations, this white paper renders them empty and meaningless.  Either we adhere to American constitutional values, all the time and even when it’s inconvenient, or it’s a free for all.

The Executive Branch has spoken. It says that in the name of protecting America, we give up the values that make America what it is.  And that is all they have to offer.

Frank Zappa as Legal Philosopher, LegalTech Edition

Old school American philosophy was that necessity is the mother of invention, which explains why Zappa’s admonition about yellow snow remains true to this very day.  Yet, at the Legal Whiteboard, Bill Henderson subscribes to a very different philosophy.  Perhaps this is due to ornithological challenge, as he mistakes vultures for blue jays.

Bill posts a big picture of the list of exhibitors at Legal Tech New York:

It’s a long list. A very long list, which is a testament to the great number of enterprises ALM’s Sheila Brennan was able to get to pony up the exhibitor fee. She is good, far better than ALM deserves, but I digress.

From this very long list, Bill concludes:

There was a lot of money sloshing around this trade show.  What do these companies sell?  How do they make money?  Who are their clients? Who founded these companies and who financed their growth? Are lawyer-employees a key part of their business models?  These are the questions I am asking.
If you think that the ethics rules (MR 5.4) are keeping nonlawyers out the legal industry, you need to come to LegalTech.

I’m here to help, Bill. The long list doesn’t so much reflect nonlawyers engagement in the legal industry, but vultures feasting on a dying carcass.  The scent of death is in the air, and they flock. They are failed lawyers. They are lawyers tired of scratching for a buck and coming up empty. They are the philosophy majors in college who couldn’t find work. They are the tech wonders who were told that this billion dollar industry is floundering, but with some fancy software they can skim a few pennies off the top.

As long a list as this might be, it’s puny in comparison to the number of lawyers in this fine nation.  As every venture capitalist has heard a million times, all they need do is get one-tenth of one percent to buy their product to make themselves filthy rich.  What product that might be isn’t nearly as important, since none of us know what lawyers will be doing in ten or twenty years from now. What is well known is that lawyers, struggling to be part of whatever the new normal turns out to be, are grasping at straws in the hope that they can remain viable and survive whatever is happening to the profession.

The next question Bill needs to ask, but doesn’t, is whether the future lies in embracing the vultures who want to suck the life out of the legal profession, his nonlawyer’s skimming a piece off the top so they can get rich on money that used to go toward legal representation, or fighting them off.

When I look at this list, I have questions too.  How many of these enterprises offer services that lawyers actually need?  How do their services help us to serve our clients better than we can serve them now?  Does the cost of these bells and whistles provide value to what we do?

There has always been an industry serving the legal profession, from the makers of law books to the purveyors of legal forms.  The ones that fulfilled needs survived, but we never confused them with lawyers.  They served us; they didn’t replace us.

Has this changed?  Certainly e-discovery and predictive coding require a skillset that lawyers aren’t taught, but that’s one niche among many.  Are all the enterprises who put up booths e-discovery sellers?  If so, then I would suspect two, maybe three, to be around ten years from now. Nobody needs 100 e-discovery companies.  And if that’s all they do, they only serve a niche of the law, and Bill’s suggestion that the philistines have already broken down the gates is a bit exaggerated.

It’s not that I disagree with Bill’s view that things are changing, and in need of change, but that we’re a long way off from understanding what those changes will ultimately be.  We are at the infancy of technological involvement in the law, and there will be no shortage of vultures who think they can get their piece, only to find out that their services are unwanted and unneeded.

Of the many claims to fame of the new normal, the end of the guild mentality is a strong one.  There are many who see the future of the law with lawyers and laypeople working hand in hand to end the monopoly and turn the profession into just another business, selling new and improved laundry detergent next to trusts and estates.

That may come to pass, because my crystal ball is awfully cloudy and I can’t tell where we will be in a decade or two.  But by no means am I prepared to declare a learned profession dead, and give up the carcass to the vultures.  The panacea that others see, where non-lawyers can reduce the cost of legal representation through computer programs that are close enough to replace thinking lawyers may be good enough for others, but not me.

So while Bill may see that cool picture of exhibitors and think, this shows that the legal profession has succumbed to the business of lawyering involving, perhaps even dominated, by laypeople replacing lawyers in order to bring about the new legal order, I see yellow snow.  And until I find out that it serves my clients better than what I do now, I have no plan to eat it.