Texas In the Blawgospheric Lead

Whether it’s the water or the barbecue, I can’t say, but once again, Texas leads the way in criminal defense blawgs with the newest kid on the block, Liberty & Justice For Y’all.  Headed up by Brandon W. Barnett, a Texas criminal defense lawyer who describes himself as “currently assigned as a criminal litigation consultant for the Marine Corps in Washington D.C.,” but headed back to the motherland as soon as his time is done.

L&J4Y is a group blawg, though the other conspirators (including some prosecutors) remain anonymous, at least for the time being.  The blawg is a mix of caselaw analysis and commentary, such as this post on the 5th Circuit decision in U.S. v. Banegas :


In Banegas, the court’s stated reason for shackling the defendant was that “everyone in this court who has tried a case pro se that’s incarcerated” gets shackled. Nothing more was offered. Was it because the defendant was a safety threat ? A flight risk? An involuntary break-dancer? The record doesn’t reflect – it’s just how the court always does it.

In Deck, the Supreme Court took a look at the issue of shackling and identified several historical factors that should be considered in determining whether a defendant should be visibly shackled: 1) past escape, 2) prior convictions, 3) that nature of the crime for which the defendant was on trial, 4) conduct prior to trial while in prison, 5) any prior disposition toward violence, and 6) physical attributes of the defendant like size, strength, and age.

Despite whether the trial court uses these factors or other factors tailored to the particular case, it MUST state its reasoning on the record so that the issue may be resolved by the appellate court. When the appellate court is left to guess at the reason for shackling, it has no choice but to find a due process violation and vacate the conviction.


What’s notable about L&J4Y is the absence of any self-promotion in the background.  When I first read through the blawg, I had no idea who was doing the writing.  Brandon has since added in a bit of background info so at least we knew who to praise or yell at, as the case may be.  This is all about the law, with no ulterior motives.

I learned about L&J4Y from Scott Henson at Grits for Breakfast, who provided a great survey of the type of posts offered:


LJY points us to an article discussing the “burgeoning jurisprudence of placing a premium on citizens’ ignorance of their Fourth Amendment rights,” and another on the question of whether copying computer data constitutes a seizure. A separate post describes how, when it comes to Texas courts interpretation of the Fourth Amendment, essentially all circumstances are “exigent.”

LJY also describes a recent, contentious 5-4 Texas Court of Criminal Appeals ruling which threw out a confession because a police officer falsified a government document (faking fingerprint results from a crime lab) to show the suspect during an interrogation. And we learn of another positive CCA decision holding that out-of-court statements by a confidential informant violate the Confrontation Clause if presented at trial.

However, just in case these decisions make you think the Texas CCA has changed its stripes, LJY informs us of the court’s ruling that police may seize items not described in a search warrant, overturning decisions by the trial judge and appellate court. (Deference to findings by the trial court, judging from the majority opinion, only apply when their rulings benefit the prosecution.)
As you can see, Brandon and his gang have their eyes on Texas, and Texas is never at a loss for fascinating fodder when it comes to quirky, often bizarre, decisions in criminal law.

It’s been said lately that the blawgosphere has become a tough place to break into, with too many blawgs getting too few views.  L&J4Y proves otherwise, with good writing, interesting subjects and no sense that it’s just part of somebody’s marketing scheme.  But the part that gets me is why Texas seems to remain that place where criminal law blawgs flourish, far more so than anywhere else in the country.  More executions, more blawgs?  More craziness, more blawgs?  You would think that Maricopa County would have more blawgs per capita than anywhere else, if that was the case. 

In any event, it’s good to have new blood in the blawgosphere and L&J4Y is a welcome new neighbor.  Go check it out and let Brandon know that it’s not just me, Grits and his mother reading.

A Good Day To Rob A Bank? (Update)

Dunkin’ Donuts was founded in 1950.  Policing was never the same.


No, occifer, that’s not cocaine.  That’s what’s left of my jelly donut.

Apologies to Dave Granlund and H/T to Ed at Blawgreview.

Update:  And, because there has to be something to show that they’ve faced adversity and survived:


Ever seen a cop frisk a donut?  Me too.  With love.

H/T Karl Mansoor

Wal-Mart, For The Defense

Gillian Hadfield, lawprof at the University of Southern California who’s visiting Hahvahd at the moment, offers this controversial proposition in an op-ed at the Washington Post.  The basic premise is that we, lawyers, have priced legal services out of reach of ordinary folk, while holding onto our monopoly for dear life.

The United States stands largely alone in advanced-market democracies in drastically restricting where and how people can get help with their legal problems. In all states, under rules created by bar associations and state supreme courts, only people with law degrees and who are admitted to the state bar can provide legal advice and services of any kind.

In England, Australia and the Netherlands, by contrast, a wide variety of professionals and experts can provide legal assistance.

Nonprofit organizations as well as for-profit firms can develop specialized expertise in particular areas of legal need — housing, immigration, debt-management, child custody and so on. Often, studies show, specialized non-lawyer providers ultimately offer better service than the solo and small-firm practitioners who do someone’s taxes one day and provide criminal defense the next.

No need to point out all the problems.  We know what they are.  Studies fail to address those who are ruined when their $2,99 form from LegalZoom doesn’t do the trick.  But it still fails to provide anything remotely resembling a solution to the problem, that normal people cannot afford legal representation and advice.

My research suggests that Americans have a much higher rate of simply giving up in the face of legal difficulties, with effectively nowhere to turn if they cannot afford a lawyer who comes at a minimum price of $150 an hour. This means giving up on seeing their children or saving their homes or credit ratings or jobs. Unlike people in Britain, those facing legal problems in the United States can’t turn to local volunteer organizations, their unions or consumer organizations. They can’t buy what they need from entrepreneurs or the full-service stores like Wal-Mart that now package low-cost eye exams, insurance, banking and more with their diapers and detergents.

This may explain why in U.S. surveys 30 to 40 percent of Americans with an identifiable legal problem say they do nothing to resolve it, compared with just 5 percent in Britain. Yes, Britain spends far more public funds on ensuring access to justice — $76 in legal aid per capita compared with $13 in the States (including charitable contributions). But the critical difference is the widespread and diverse availability of help in Britain and other advanced-market democracies for people with legal troubles — not just criminal arrest but issues such as foreclosure, divorce, child custody, employment and bankruptcy. The United States urgently needs to expand capacity for non-lawyers to meet the legal needs of ordinary Americans in innovative and less costly ways.

Hadfield is absolutely correct that we’ve done little to nothing to advance the cause of providing affordable legal services in this country.  This is a discussion that is way overdue, and the controversy created here is a welcome invitation to sort things out.

Much of what she argues is obviously silly and counterproductive.  Hey, what do you expect from an academic.  But read the comments to her op-ed and see the seething hatred that the public has for lawyers.  We can talk amongst ourselves and rationalize why the delivery of legal services in this country can’t be improved, but the public isn’t buying.

True, the public isn’t exactly on target with much of its criticism.  They complain bitterly, but simultaneously want the law to remedy every harm, real or perceived, immediately and at no cost to them.  As crazy as the law seems when it’s some other guy complaining, every individual believes that their grievance is worthy and deserving of a few mil, their damage worse than anyone else’s, their harm the most egregious ever suffered.  Ridiculous and hypocritical, but then, they aren’t supposed to understand.  That’s why there are lawyers.

Norm Pattis recently proposed a universal public defender system.  I don’t agree with the idea (and Norm doesn’t agree with me), but it’s part of an important discussion.  We’re not delivering now. We all agree on that.

Maybe legal services from your local Wal-Mart is the right idea.  Maybe it’s got the seeds of the right idea.  Maybe Wal-Mart, via economy of scale or some of its other tricks, can allow lawyers to provide quality legal services at a significantly lower cost to consumers.  I’m not saying it can, but I am saying it’s time to start thinking seriously about such notions that are immediately written off as “absurd” by the bar, especially the formal groups who love to spout platitudes but never hold the hand of a client whose life has been ruined by the beloved system, “not perfect but the best ever created.”  We’ve got a platitude that forgives us every failure.  Spouting platitudes doesn’t do much to help clients.

Much of what Hadfield says seems silly, naive, wrong-headed or just poorly conceived.  She solves one problem at the expense of another.  But what she does do is give us a good reason to talk about ways that the legal profession can do better to serve the needs of human beings.  And if that’s all she does, it’s good enough for me.  This is a discussion that needs to be had, before the local townspeople march on our law offices with torches and pitchforks.  Before more lives are ruined by the law.

Lawyer Free Speech Given A Second Chance

The 2d Circuit has affirmed the district court decision in Alexander v. Cahill, holding most of the content based restrictions on lawyer advertising unconstitutional.  I wasn’t aware of the decision being issued yesterday until I received a call from a reporter asking for comment.  I should have read Turk’s post at New York Personal Injury Law Blog sooner, and I would have known.

When I learned that the circuit affirmed, I applauded the decision, causing great confusion.  How could I, I was asked, an opponent of lawyer advertising, marketing schemes and self-promotion, agree with the decision holding that lawyers should not be denied the first amendment right to free speech granted everyone else?  I explained. 

The reporter, like most people, assumed that if there is a wrong happening somewhere, there must be a corresponding law or regulation prohibiting it and a remedy to punish the wrongdoing.  It took a number of tries before I could break through this mindset.  While I’m not at all sure I convinced her, at least I believe she left understanding that as much as I believe that flagrant marketing is distasteful and unprofessional, bad for the profession and part of our race for the bottom, that doesn’t mean that I support legal restrictions or prohibitions.  The former is bad. The latter is worse,

In the case before the 2d Circuit, the upstate law firm of Alexander & Catalano was big into advertising, with such strokes of brilliance as advising space aliens and appearing as giants, towering over the city as they ran to a client’s house.  Goofy, tacky stuff, but hardly the sort that could be taken as anything but goofy and tacky.  No sane client could be deceived into believing that they really were the law firm preferred by space aliens.  And if they were deceived, well, then they could have the client, if you get the picture.

If these particularly commercials were banned, it would be hard to lose much sleep.  But the rules to prohibit them swept with a broad brush.  From the Turk :


An advertisement shall not:

(1) include an endorsement of, or testimonial about, a lawyer or law firm from a client with respect to a matter that is still pending . . .
(3) include the portrayal of a judge, the portrayal of a fictitious law firm, the use of a fictitious name to refer to lawyers not associated together in a law firm, or otherwise imply that lawyers are associated in a law firm if that is not the case . . .
(5) rely on techniques to obtain attention that demonstrate a clear and intentional lack of relevance to the selection of counsel, including the portrayal of lawyers exhibiting characteristics clearly unrelated to legal competence . . .
(7) utilize a nickname, moniker, motto or trade name that implies an ability to obtain results in a matter.

No matter how one feels about lawyer advertising, these restrictions would impact a far wider swathe than space aliens and giant lawyers, and render speech that should certainly fall within the protections of the first amendment unethical.  As much as I would like to see these marketing efforts end, not at the expense of free speech.  Notably, however, the circuit left intact the general prohibitions on false and misleading advertising.  Not that they were really needed, since such restrictions have always been imposed on lawyers, as well they should be.

The missing link is lawyers ourselves.  I can’t envision any set of restrictions on lawyer marketing that won’t, coincidentally or not, be so overbroad as to include speech that lies outside and is entitled to protection, whether full or limited as commercial speech.  I don’t want my free speech restricted because your tacky and disgraceful marketing effort makes people’s stomachs turn. 

The Circuit has given lawyers a second chance.  Here’s the deal.  Stop the race to the bottom, the next effort to be even more outrageous, more ridiculous, more unprofessional and undignified, than anyone before you.  Stop trying to find some new way, some brighter light, some trickier claim, to make you stand out more than the next guy.  Stop it, and chances are very good that the state will not seek to recreate restrictions on lawyer free speech that will chill the rights of the rest of us. 

But if you continue to pursue the most absurd, outrageous, disgraceful means of promoting yourself, you’re begging for the next round  of restrictions.  Testing the waters to see how bad you can get before they come after you?  You will bring restrictions down on all of us.  That’s my speech at risk when you screw around.  I’m not prepared to give it up so you can pretend that your 12 minutes of legal experience means that you’ve won bazillions of dollars for llamas and judges love you so much that they offer to let you wear their robe.  And no, you are not known as “The Hammer” or “Bullet-Proof” to anyone.  If you want to call yourself “Nimrod”, we might have agreement.

Of course, I’m being naive.  If there’s a buck to be made somewhere, there’s a lawyer willing to put on pink hotpants.  Which is why people like Turk and Carolyn Elefant will continue to out your garbage in the hope that it will dissuade the authorities from imposing new restrictions, perhaps even restrictions sufficiently well-drafted to pass constitutional muster, and leave it to lawyers to clean up their own mess.

We’ve got a second chance. Don’t screw it up for the rest of us.

LIberty 8-5829

I will never forget that number.  That was my telephone number when I was a kid. The first two numbers of the exchange corresponded with a word and the letters on the dial. 

The reason I will never forget that number is that it was drilled into my head at a tender age.  If ever there was a problem, that was the telephone number to call home.  All kids were taught the number to call home.  Just in case.  We memorized the number, and the number didn’t change.  That was the number.

As I met with an old client yesterday, he gave me his new number.  I’ve got about 20 old numbers for him.  Maybe more.  I’ve got a dozen old numbers for my sister.  Maybe more. As I flip the old rolodex, I’ve got numbers crossed out, new numbers written in, for just about everybody. 

Will a child born today remember his home telephone number 50 something years from now?  What number does a parent today teach his child to memorize?

Sentenced to Silence

Todays marks the four year anniversary since the last time Associate Justice Clarence Thomas asked a question during oral argument.  Linda Greenhouse calls Justice Thomas’ silence “a weirdly compelling example of performance art.”

It’s unfathomable to me that he would choose to sit on the bench in silence.  The sheer monotony seems unbearable, the droning of sound from advocates where there’s no personal involvement, no exchange, no activity.  Despite the efforts of anyone arguing their cause, not every case is fascinating nor every argument compelling. 

Yesterday morning was spent judging the Wagner National Labor Law Moot Court Competition at New York Law School.  If this seems odd, it’s because I began law school with the intention of going into labor law.  Things don’t always work out as planned.

I’ve sat through maybe 50 oral arguments judging Wagner over the years.  I’ve heard student advocates who range from superb to just awful.  There are far more good ones than bad, and distinguishing between the merely good and truly excellent is a difficult task.  But I was reminded yesterday of the role that judges play in allowing advocates to shine or fail.

I sat on two panels yesterday, the first including two lawprofs.  The lawprofs found a minute nuance in a portion of one decision that was integral to the fact pattern to be particularly interesting.  They questioned the students about this highly nuanced point, asking incisive but obtuse questions, which clearly went over the student’s head.

After the argument, they spent more than a half hour arguing about the nuance. When finally it became clear that they had to bring the students back in for commentary, they continued their dispute and ignored the students’ efforts.  This was the first round of arguments in the competition, and the students learned nothing whatsoever about their strengths and weaknesses.  There was neither time (for me) nor interest (from them) to provide the feedback they deserved.

My second panel could not have been more different.  Unlike me, my fellow judges had either never seen the inside of a courtroom or had never argued before a judge.  A few lame questions were tossed out, asking for recitation of the obvious.  When I asked a tough question, they gasped.  Kids aren’t supposed to be challenged.  After that, the advocates were left to give their arguments with a silent bench. They completed them before their time to argue expired.

There is nothing worse for an appellate advocate than to face a silent bench.  Oral argument is the opportunity to hear the challenges to your cause and face your weakest point.  While some believe that no one wins a case at argument, or that judges have already decided who wins and loses before argument rolls around, I don’t buy it.  Let them try to shoot down my point, and let me have the opportunity to make my case.  Give me that chance to persuade you.  That’s what oral argument is all about.  If you don’t try to knock me down, I don’t know what issues the judges are concerned with and can’t address them.  Silence is death.

The other justices on the Supreme Court are not at all reluctant to ask questions, to challenge, even to ridicule, the arguments of advocates.  These questions are what advocates live for, to face them squarely and respond.  Without knowing what negatives lurk in the judges mind, we can’t confront them, change their minds.  We can’t win over anyone who remains silent.  We may not win them over anyway, but at least questions give us a chance.

I think the world of students who enter these national moot court competitions, who put themselves on the line to take on the challenge of suffering the possible crash and burn of the hard question, or the soaring accomplishment of a great response.  Either way, they will be better lawyers for the experience.  If only the competition judges don’t model themselves after Justice Thomas, and sentence these student advocates the cruel and unusual punishment of silence.

But For Video; The Right Way To Do It

It’s almost always that case that videos that find their way around the blawgosphere show cops doing wrong, whether it’s the ubiquitous tasing of the impolite or the beating of the cuffed perp.  Always the example of what’s wrong.

The typical reaction from those inclined more toward order and less toward law is to explain that they have to tase, beat, control, or the cops might bear some potential risk that would expose them to harm.  After all, what are they supposed to do when confronted with some angry lunatic. Well, via Turley, consider this video as an option:


This driver is distraught.  Beyond distraught.  Cursing away, angry, all directed at this cop.  And yet the officer never loses his cool, never whips out his weapon.  He remains polite and firm.  He never feels compelled to show this driver who’s boss, or that he has the ability to teach him how not to anger a cop.

What’s remarkable is that no one ends up injured or dead.  This video proves that it need not happen, even when the driver is out of control.  Simple patience and calm are an option in the police officer’s arsenal, and everyone leaves alive.

Imagine.

Majority v. Right

Whether one looks to God for the glory of the Union or not, the 9th Circuit decision in Newdow v. Rio Linda Union School District is the sort to generate strong feelings one way of the other.  Judge Bea wrote the 60 page majority opinion holding that the words “under God” in the pledge of allegiance is not unconstitutional. To save you some time, here’s my summation of his opinion:


So what? Who cares? What’s the big deal? No harm, no foul.

Judge Reinhardt wrote a 133 page dissent.  It’s filled with fun things, such as footnote 4, taking a swipe at Sarah Palins for demonstrating that she is, indeed, a regular gal in its worst sense.  There’s little question that the words “under God” are a religious reference, inserted during the Cold War to distinguish God-loving Americans from atheist commies.  It’s true that few of us, particularly school children, pay any heed to its actual words, and emit the sounds of a loyalty oath by rote. 

That children stand and do it, because all the other kids stand and do it rather than because they feel a particular desire to emit those particular sounds, is likely the case.  As Judge Reinhardt argues, coercion is just as wrong as compulsion, even if the issue is a tempest in a teapot.  Becoming too ordinary, too accepted, makes the harm trivial, though obviously wrong.  Eliminating the words “under God” from the secular pledge does no harm to religion.  No churches will be burned in the writing of this dissent.

What was most interesting about this decision was the difference in tone between the majority and the dissent, and the reaction each engendered.  In comments to Eugene Volokh’s post merely referencing the decision, commenters lambasted Judge Reinhardt’s dissent:



I wonder if Judge Reinhardt realizes that he would probably be at least somewhat more effective (in the sense of being in dissent or reviewed and reversed by the Supreme Court less frequently) if his tone weren’t so strident and as arrogantly dismissive of colleagues (and supervisors in Washington) who don’t share his point of view. Or whether he’s just given up in his own mind and would rather be “right” (to the Warren-Court-constitution-in-exile movement) than be in the majority.
This comment squarely makes the point: Should Judge Reinhardt have been more concerned with being “right” or being palatable to others?  This reflects a fundamental question that permeates everything from court decisions to blawgs, any place where an expression of opinion appears. 

Most of us have opinions.  Most of us with opinions are afraid to express them, at least when our name is attached to them.  We fear offending others, causing disagreement and disapproval.  We don’t want to start fights.  We don’t want others to think ill of us.  We don’t want to be challenged. We don’t want to be on the outside.

In the rare instance that someone expresses their opinion, they try to do so in ways that are least offensive to others.  The words are surrounded by equivocations, giving us a way out of our opinion if challenged, muddying the impact so that it’s less harsh or striking, even if the price is paid in clarity.  We water down our words to reduce the impact on others, to reduce the rebound on ourselves.  We do everything in our power to try to avoid offense. 

It seems like taking offense has become a national pastime.  It seems like avoiding offense has become a national pastime as well.  The virtue of avoiding offense is extolled.  We would rather be in the majority than right.

This is a crisis of confidence and cowardice.  We don’t believe in ourselves enough to just express what we think.  We fear the disapproval of others so much that we will color our expression, if we’ve got the guts to express at all, to avoid offense at all cost.  We have become a nation of cowards, and we extoll other cowards to make ourselves feel better.  We decry the bold and brave because they remind us of the cowards we’ve become.

When voices are forced to express an opinion, they often jump on the coattails of brave and bold people, like our founding fathers, because they are safe heroes today.  How many of these voices would have had the guts to be one of our founding fathers if they had the chance?  The vast majority would have preferred being part of the huddled masses, though they yearned for nothing more than the comfort of their fellow masses.  It’s not that they don’t have opinions, but they are scared to death to express them at all, and even more afraid to stand up, without their bullet-proof vest, and state them clearly and unequivocally. 

In another situation, I was recently informed that a critical decision was made on the basis of consensus and unanimity.  There was no concern whether the decision was right.  The decision-makers thought they had accomplished a great thing by avoiding conflict and creating consensus, even if the price was doing the right thing.  No one left the room offended, and that was the greatest achievement they could think of.

Judge Reinhardt’s opinion, rather than Judge Bea’s, will be the fodder of much discussion, because it is bold, clear and striking.  It will generate thought, debate, ideas and challenges.  It will offend many.  And it says what Judge Reinhardt means it to say.  He could have chosen to be more collegial, less strident (or less arrogant, as the lovers of blather are inclined to characterize it), but he chose instead to demonstrate the strength of his beliefs by stating them in forceful language and using examples and rhetorical mechanisms to make his point.

Judge Reinhardt has chosen not to be part of the huddled mass, afraid that a strong opinion, clearly expressed, will hurt someone’s feelings.  If you were given the opportunity to join the Sons of Liberty, would you have had the guts?  Or do you hope to spend the rest of your life cowering in the corner hoping that no one will ever be angry at you for saying something they disagree with or hurts their feelings.  Would rather be in the majority than be right?

Moderation In Some Things

After being informed at some length, and in some delightfully colorful language, by certain subscribers that they had enough of receiving the hundreds of spam comments over the past week, I acceded to demands that I moderate comments.  This has wreaked havoc with comments, with real commenters posting over and over, unable to figure out why their comments don’t appear, and just killing the entire flow of the conversation.

I apologize. I’ve blocked and deleted spammers throughout, and eventually they will figure out that they will never get their way.  Until then, please bear with me.  We will win the war of attrition.  Things will return to normal,  I hope.

Treasonous Lawyers? Not

My old buddy Andy McCarthy lets one rip at the New York Times Room for Debate Blog about how the AQ7, the pro bono lawyers who helped Guantanamo detainees are not heroes, or even decent human beings, but traitors to the American people.  Of lawyers defending terrorists, he says:



This is a ludicrous concept, so the profession has to engage in serial deceptions to sell it. Most prominent among these is the assertion that every one, no matter how unpopular, is entitled to counsel. Nonsense.

Only criminal defendants are entitled to counsel, and those who represent them do indeed perform a constitutionally valuable function. It has never been the law, however, that war prisoners are entitled to counsel to challenge their detention as enemy combatants.

. . .
The lawyers chose to offer themselves, gratis, to our enemies for litigation the Constitution does not require. They did so knowing that this litigation would be harmful to the war effort — a fact the Supreme Court emphasized when it denied war prisoners the right to file habeas claims in 1950. The fact that we don’t forbid lawyers from doing this hardly means Americans have to approve of it.
Be careful or you’ll get some of the rabid foam on your tie.

Orin Kerr parses the post and explains why Andy’s shoes don’t match his purse.  While correct, I think Orin tries to hard.  It’s just not that hard to separate the reason from the rhetoric, particularly in this instance.  I know that President Bush went on TV and told us we were at war.  But he was never really good at details, and just because a few bombastic warmongers want to call it war doesn’t make it so.

War is what happens between sovereigns.  War is not subject to redefinition at will any more than calling individuals a name, like enemy combatants, is sufficient reason to absolve us from the rules of our own game.  We’ve called lots of things war in the past 50 years. In fact, we call almost everything that presents a problem a war.  It’s easy.  It’s just a word.  It doesn’t really make it one.

So if Andy McCarthy wants to call a bunch of lawyers upholding the Constitution traitors engaging in treason, I’ll defend his right to do so because the first amendment protects it.  But it’s still just words in a rhetorical war. My response is that Andy’s just being a dope.