Rolling the Crazy Dice (Update)

When James Holmes  shot up a theater full of people at the midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises, killing 12 and wounding 58, in Aurora, Colorado, most immediately thought the dude had to be insane. Who else but a crazy person would commit such an atrocity?

But as any criminal lawyer knows, crazy isn’t legally insane.  Under Colorado law, which was changed in 1995 following the attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan by John Hinkley to toughen it up, the  burden is to show by clear and convincing evidence that the defendant suffered from genuine mental illness, and that he was unable to distinguish right from wrong. While this is a very tough standard, the difficulty doesn’t end there. It’s not enough that the defense offer its medical experts to show that Holmes met the legal definition of insanity, but that they offer up the defendant to the state for examination as well.

Larry Pozner wrote  an op-ed in the Denver Post explaining the problem:




Make no mistake: Every person who enters an insanity plea must adhere to these procedures. The defendant must disclose the names, the reports, the notes, the tests of every psychiatrist or psychologist who has ever treated him for a mental illness. In addition, the state’s doctors get every therapist’s note, every interview, every document, or every test that Holmes’ own lawyers have given to a psychiatrist or psychologist. Holmes loses all confidentiality, and all medical or therapeutic privileges related to those exams, tests, or therapy sessions.


And that is just the beginning. After pleading insanity, Holmes must submit to psychiatric interviews, psychological tests, around-the-clock observations, even polygraphs, all performed by the state hospital psychiatric team. What the state doctors want, the state doctors get. He remains under examination for as many weeks and possibly months as the state experts require.


In other words, once the insanity defense is interposed, a defendant essentially waives all constitutional protections and is at the mercy of the medical team used by the prosecution, In the process of ascertaining whether Holmes is legally insane, they will have a free hand in gathering all the information that a prosecutor could possibly want to convict.

If it turns out that the state’s team agrees that the defendant is legally insane, then he will be committed for psychiatric treatment of his mental illness.  If not, and the court concludes that the defense failed to sustain its burden, then everything gathered in the evaluation process, all the rights waived and lost, is available for use against him.

Insanity in Colorado is risky business.

Holmes’ lawyers are challenging the constitutionality of these procedures. From the Chicago Tribune :



The defense said in a separate motion that if Holmes is required to provide information, it could be used against him not only at trial but in sentencing as well, should he be convicted.


In the motion, defense lawyers said they believe that portion of the insanity law is unconstitutional, and they cannot effectively advise their client until that legal issue is resolved, which they said has not been challenged before in Colorado courts.


“No published Colorado case law has examined the current provisions … regarding insanity and mental condition in the context of a capital case,” the motion said.


They’ve got a point. The forfeiture of the Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination as the price of interposing an insanity defense is, well, crazy. As much as it may seem reasonable to allow the prosecution to test the merit of a defense of insanity, the question is how far they get to go. If the state’s psychiatric experts are permitted to question Holmes as to what he did, and Holmes is required to cooperate with their examination, then it is tantamount to compelling him to confess.

And if they decide that he may be totally nuts, but not legally insane, then there is little left to dispute.

That the issue arises in the case of a despised mass murderer comes as no shock. The rules are almost always tested by the worst among us, the most despised and hated.  There will be no shortage of people who feel no sympathy whatsoever for Holmes, and perhaps he deserves no sympathy. 

But the point of the insanity defense isn’t that the crime wasn’t horrible, but that the perpetrator of the crime suffered from a mental disease or defect that made him incapable of formulating the criminal intent necessary to hold him liable for his horrible crimes. As much as we may not feel badly for the crazy guy, the insanity precludes him from possessing the intent that makes him responsible for his crimes.

Of course, it’s understandable that the State of Colorado would want its opportunity to find out whether he’s as crazy as the defense experts claim. It may well turn out that he is, and that even the state’s experts will reach the conclusion that Holmes is legally insane.  But that’s a roll of the dice at this point, and if he loses on insanity, he loses on everything.

No matter how reasonable it may seem in a vacuum to allow the state the opportunity to test the claim of insanity, the law permitting such unconstrained intrusion must still pass constitutional muster. The prosecution’s argument, no doubt, will be that the defendant, by claiming insanity, voluntarily waives his privilege against compelled confession.

The response is that the Constitution assures every defendant, including the crazy ones, both the right to defend and the right not to incriminate themselves.  If the defense is insanity, it cannot come at the expense of compelled self-incrimination. 

To add insult to injury, the question remains whether the prosecution can doctor-shop until they find a psychiatrist who delivers them with the opinion on insanity they seek, and will be sufficiently helpful to provide them with the confession to boot.  If that’s the case, then the theoretical argument that the prosecution should have a chance to conduct its own evaluation is reduced to a sham inquisition.  That would be almost as crazy as Holmes.

Then again, many people don’t really care much about the Constitution or the mental state of the defendant when there are dead bodies on the ground. As far as their concerned, he rolled the dice when he started shooting, and nothing that follows should change him from coming up craps.

Update: Colorado Judge Judge William Sylvester has denied the defense motions. Move along. Nothing to see here.

H/T Stephanie West Allen at Idealawg.




Can Live Survive?

My response to the email was typically skeptical. A company that was doing continuing education for physicians wanted to break into the legal market, and asked if I was willing to speak with them. It went on to push a bit too far, suggesting that it was in my interest to become involved with them as they were going to be the best CLE provider ever and would do wonders for my prestige.

So I responded by asking if they were a for-profit enterprise, and whether they were asking if I was so desperate to be hooked to such a prestigious enterprise that I would happily give up my time and reputation to make them money. A lot of lawyers do that, you know. It’s a marketing thing, where lawyers beg to be on television or speak at conferences, for free and on their own dime, so people think they’re important lawyers while the business putting on the show makes money off them.

But I received a reply that surprised me. Yes, they were a for-profit business, but what they really wanted was to ask me whether I thought it was possible to do quality CLEs online, and whether lawyers gave a damn about quality CLEs or just getting enough credits to make it past the guardians of the bar.  So I bit.

My view was old school, that CLEs had become a joke, particularly given that lawyers now get credit for such critical skills as “how to market” and “how to get the most out of your iPad.”  How many clients get all warm and fuzzy knowing that this is the sort of advanced training their lawyers deem critical?  The business model was to run counter to this slide into the gutter, to provide what they believed to be top quality education.  Would lawyers be willing to pay for it?

If the choice is crap versus quality, and the price point was essentially the same, my hope is that lawyers would flock to good quality CLEs rather than crap.  But there was a secondary question as well: The CLEs would be delivered over the internet, not in person.  Would this change things?

As it happens, I stumbled across a post by lawyer-turned-marketer/coach Roy Ginsburg at the Puddle who wrote a post about this very issue. While my normal modus operandi is to point out the superficiality and general worthlessness of the death of letters there, this was different. The same reader who would avoid anything remotely resembling depth of thought because it makes his head hurt would be the very lawyer to whom these CLEs were directed. After all, how would I know whether they want quality CLEs?  How would I know if they care whether the CLEs are live or memorex?  Plus, the title of this post comes straight out of Roy’s subheading.



Can Live Survive?


Plenty of older lawyers still prefer being in the same room with a qualified expert. Some younger lawyers, too, will prefer that format. But it won’t be long until the boomers retire and most CLE is provided online. If your bar association is now offering 40 live programs per year, that number will decrease every year going forward.

This is what makes me nuts about the Puddle, the utter absence of reasoning behind any assertion combined with the blind leap to whatever outcomes can be called 2.0.  Roy just assumes that everything is going online because, well, just because.  I concede, unfortunately, that he’s probably right, though I have actual reasons for my position.

Online CLEs offer economies of scale that allow for a viable business model. Far less expensive to create, particularly if you have to pay a well-regarded lawyer capable of providing high quality legal education, since there is no room to rent or food to purchase.  One of the suggestions I gave was that the sort of lawyer who would do a CLE for the prestigious marketing opportunity was not the sort of lawyer who would be perceived as capable of providing a top quality presentation. There was no shortage of lawyers willing to do anything for free, but nobody would pay to hear them. If they wanted someone who people actually wanted to hear, they would have to pay for it.

Online CLEs also cost the participating lawyer much less time, allowing them avoid the time lost to travel to a live location, which reduced the cost to the lawyer. It allowed the CLE provider to include as many lawyers as were willing to sign up, rather than the limits of geography or seating would allow. It allowed the provider to use a presentation again and again, even if the interactive nature of a webinar done once might be lost in future showings. 

And digital natives have gotten used to everything being delivered to them online, so they never have to actually use any muscle that doesn’t move a mouse.

But this doesn’t address whether this is a good thing. No matter how useful the internet has become as means of obtaining information on any subject under the sun, there is a dynamic to a live presentation that can’t be replicated online.  We’ve strayed from quality to convenience, where people interacted face to face, with real life being lost in the process.

Have you ever tried talking to a camera when there is no one else around? It’s not fun. It’s really a pretty weird feeling, like talking to yourself and wondering whether there is anyone out there to listen.  Even in a live webinar, the stilted nature of questions or interactions bears little resemblance to actual conversation.  Without seeing the faces of an audience, or the hands going up, or the gal who looks like she’s about to burst because of something you just said, there is no sense of reality.  The laughs, the groans, the sighs, are all part of human interaction.

Having done webinars and podcasts, as well as live CLEs, there is no question in my mind that much is lost when we aren’t in the same room.  But then, I’m the boomer, stuck in my old ways. Do new lawyers, the audience for the future of CLEs, share my concerns? Do they care whether we’re all in the same room, or the lawyer is just a disembodied face on their computer screen?

I know my answer, but I don’t know what young lawyers think.


Not Trial By Video

In a curious twist of rhetoric, Judge Patrick F. Dugan acquitted Philadelphia police lieutenant Jonathan Josey of assaulting Aida Guzman at a Puerto Rican Day Parade,  announcing “This is not a social media contest, this is not trial by video.”

For as long as I can remember, the argument was that a video of the conduct of an alleged crime was the gold standard, the thing every wished would exist, because otherwise trials relied on witnesses, who memories and motives were inherently suspect. If only there was a video.

And here there was. A video that went viral, and was scrutinized within an inch of its life.  When it was discussed here, it was in relation to the reaction of other police officers, who strained mightily to explain why Josey’s conduct was nearly as bad as every non-cop in the world thought it was.

The cops who came to Josey’s defense had two things in common: they had no issue with the fact that Josey smacked Guzman down and they had no doubt that he smacked Guzman down.  No one question what the video showed, but only that she deserved what she got.

Jonathan Josey was charged with assault for sucker punching Guzman. That wasn’t the plan initially, but pressure brought to bear resulted in Josey’s being charged.  At the three-hour bench trial, one would have expected the video to be damning. 


[Judge] Dugan, however, cited Josey’s testimony that the 19-year decorated police veteran was trying to swipe a beer bottle from Guzman’s hand and accidentally hit her. Josey said he acted in the context of an escalating melee in which some spectators were throwing beer bottles at police trying to arrest a driver doing “donuts” in the middle of the intersection.


The judge also cited other police testimony and character witnesses and an defense expert on police procedure who approved of Josey’s conduct.


This is where the judge ridiculed video and proclaimed this would not be trial by video.  The defense, that Josey did not intentionally sucker punch the woman who he believed sprinkled liquid on him, but was merely trying to swipe a beer bottle from her hands and accidentally punched her in the fact instead, might have been different than anything anyone else had ever seen in the video, but the judge made it clear: this would not be trial by video.

There are two possible reactions to a verdict like this. On the one hand, the judge who acquitted might be viewed as incredibly bold, standing up against the tidal wave of criticism across the country for having defied the nearly universal belief of those who don’t strap on their Sam Browne every day to face the maddening crowds.  After all, don’t we often argue that judges should succumb to popular will, which generally supports the conviction of any defendant who is portrayed as evil to the public.

But this time is a little different, because there was a video. And it was different because the defendant was a cop.

The other possible reaction is that the fix was in. Philly has a long and sordid history of police abuse of people of color, going back to the good, old Rizzo days, The City of Brotherly Love didn’t love the brothers very much. Or the sisters. Or the Puerto Ricans, or anyone else whose tint was a little darker than Frank’s. But Lt. Josey was black, showing how far Philadelphia had come with regard to race relations.  The question remained whether it had come as far with regard to police.

As might be expected, outrage followed the acquittal of Josey.  After all, the video of what happened was there for all to see, and the judge not only saw it differently than anyone else, but showed open disdain for the very sort of evidence that had invariably been held out as the best it can get.

Thoughts immediately turned to why Judge Dugan, “52, a judge since 2007 and a decorated Army captain who served in Iraq and Afghanistan,” didn’t see what everyone else did. A hook was soon found :



Does it matter that he’s married to a cop?


A chorus of criticism swelled Wednesday after word spread that Dugan is married to Philadelphia Police Officer Nancy Farrell Dugan, who has been on the force since 1997, city payroll records show.


She also attended Josey’s Feb. 12 nonjury trial, sources said.


While it might have been prudent for Dugan to have recused himself in such a controversial case to avoid the appearance of impropriety, there was no basis for mandatory recusal here. Judges always come to the bench carrying baggage, often from their careers as lawyer, their friends, their families, their connections, supporters and haters. The question is impartiality, and the answer is that a judge who feels that he cannot be impartial is obliged to recuse himself. Few judges feel that way, believing themselves bastions of impartiality, no matter how biased they may be.

That Judge Dugan slept with a cop shouldn’t be the bone of contention, any more than a judge who is married to a defense lawyer. Or prosecutor, for that matter. Had Dugan not been married to a cop, would his verdict have been more palatable?  The problem is bias is an affliction that pervades the bench and defies easy explanation.  It’s understandable that people feel the need for some extrinsic explanation for how something could go so wrong, but it’s wholly unnecessary. It can go this wrong without any outside explanation at all. It happens all the time.

Or more to the point, it doesn’t get any better than trial by video. That is not only enough of a reason to criticize Dugan, but a much better one. If a video of a cop sucker punching a woman in Philly isn’t good enough to convict, then no evidence will suffice.







But What About Clients?

My old buddy, co-author, of-counsel, fellow blawger at What About Clients? and muse, Dan Hull, is hanging up his disco shoes.

Labor of Love Ended. We’ll soon do a parting post about our 7.5 years. We can’t tell you how much the blog and our readership meant to us. It permitted us the honor to meet in the flesh–here and abroad–some vibrant and inspirational people, and to trade ideas about getting life and work right. Je vous remercie de tout cœur.

Erudite and urbane, intolerant of the stupid, the lazy, the cowardly, and occasionally  wild, the blawgsophere will be much poorer for his absence.  Having coined the phrase “slackoisie,” and drilled into our minds “ease of use” as a mantra for dealing with clients, Dan has done his job well.

Will there ever be another blawger to remind us so well of “sensitive litigation moments,” or that the only reason lawyers exist is to serve our clients?  Maybe, but not as well or as boldly as Dan Hull.

And What About Paris?

A Bad Day in Prairie Grove

Attorney Eric D. Puryear was just a passenger in a car passing through Prairie Grove, Illinois, when the pickup in which he and his family were traveling was stopped by Officer James G. Page. His day got worse.


In October 2012, my wife, our daughter, and I flew from Iowa to McHenry, IL, in order to attend a birthday party and spend time with my wife’s family. As we were headed back to the airport, we drove through Prairie Grove, IL. I was seated in the front passenger seat of my brother-in-law’s pickup truck, which he was driving. My wife was seated behind me, and our daughter was in a car seat behind my brother-in-law. A Prairie Grove, Illinois Police Officer named James G. Page, Badge Number 8227, stopped the vehicle and claimed that he saw me not wearing my seatbelt. I was most certainly wearing my seatbelt, as I always do when in a vehicle (I’m a very safety-conscious person).

After running my ID, Officer Page returned it to me and began walking back to his vehicle, ending the traffic stop. I politely asked Officer Page for his name and badge number, as I wished to address this improper stop with the Village of Prairie Grove. In response, Officer Page demanded my ID again, stated that he would write me a ticket with his name and badge number written on that ticket, and proceeded to do exactly that. Myself, my wife, and my brother-in-law all observed that I was wearing my seatbelt throughout the trip in my brother-in-law’s truck.
Puryear beat the rap, but had a heck of a time on the ride.


Through Freedom of Information Act requests, I eventually obtained video from Officer Page’s squad car, which revealed that he pulled over several Ford pickup trucks in a row, as if he were looking for someone in particular and using pretextual reasons like a supposed missing seatbelt as an excuse for the traffic stops. I say that I “eventually” obtained that video, as the Village of Prairie Grove initially tried to say that it was unavailable due to an “error,” and it took my submission of multiple Freedom of Information Act requests to finally obtain that video. In court and under oath, Officer Page later admitted that he wrote me the ticket as retaliation for my request for his name and badge number.
As Puryear believed this to be part of a larger problem with Page and the Prairie Grove police, he started a Facebook page about it:


Officer James Page has attempted to have Facebook remove the Prairie Grove Justice Facebook page that I created. This is one of many attempts that Officer Page has made to block my right to free speech and to attempt to stop my firm from providing free legal representation to those who he has wrongfully stopped. As expected, Facebook denied Officer Page’s meritless request. More information, including the emails between Officer Page and Facebook, can be seen here: http://www.pgjustice.com/facebook.html
And now, Puryear has decided to make this a cause.


At Puryear Law P.C. we have decided to handle Prairie Grove, IL matters (and Bull Valley, IL matters involving Officer James G. Page) on a pro bono (free) basis, in situations where a person has been wrongfully ticketed, charged, or had their civil rights violated. We cannot handle every case for free, and therefore select the cases where we believe our time is best spent to seek justice. Should your case be selected, Puryear Law P.C. will represent you without charging you legal fees for our services.

About five years ago, I wrote about how the same things that happen to other people  suddenly become real when they happen to you. Now that Eric Puryear has felt the sting of a false accusation, the smack of a cop who didn’t care for his failure to respect his authority, he has decided to do something about it. Good for him.

Some of the reactions to this have been less supportive.  After all, it was just a seat belt ticket, for crying out loud, not a killing or even a beating.  He didn’t spend days in jail, no less years in prison, for a lie.  And this is true, in the scheme of bad things that can happen at the hands of cops, this barely makes a ripple.

But as Amy Bach pointed out in Ordinary Injustice, it’s the little things, the millions of little injustices, that have made us “so accustomed to a pattern of lapses that they can no longer see their role in them.”  Maybe Puryear saw them before, but it’s different when it happens to you. The little thing wasn’t so little anymore.

Just as every prosecutor should spend some time in jail to appreciate what it means when she argues for the need to imprison someone, and every judge so she knows the suffering of the sentence, maybe every defense lawyer should be both the victim of a crime and the victim of police misconduct and lies, so we can know what our clients know. Eric Puryear now knows the feeling, and it has moved him to act.

Sure, this may not be the biggest instance of impropriety, or the worst pain inflicted by a cop on an undeserving person. But every bit of extra effort in the fight helps. By channeling his frustration into pro bono representation of people who had their rights violated in Prairie Grove, Eric Puryear is putting his anger and frustration to good use by helping others who might not otherwise have representation.

Every little bit helps, even if you never realize it until it happens to you.


Inside the Law School Scam Comes to a Close

When its door first opened, law professors were outraged. Both because of what it said, that law schools were indeed running a scam, and because of who said it, an anonymous lawprof. Or at least someone who certainly appeared to be a lawprof. The lawprof soon came out, and Paul Campos became an instant pariah.

When it first appeared, it was somewhat underwhelming from the standpoint of its revelations, despite the outrage it cause in academic circles, but it offered something that had never before existed: an insider validating the otherwise insane and childish rantings of the scambloggers.


Keep an eye on Inside the Law School Scam, as there may be revelations yet. And even if not, his recognition of the problems that compel discussion and redress may prove to be the start of a beautiful solution. As he offers in his post discussing Elena Kagan (who never stepped foot in a courtroom until she was appointed Solicitor General):

Someone should inscribe the phrase Fake It Till You Make It (in classical Latin naturally) on the façade of Harvard’s fancy new law building – and on that of every law school in America.

That explains an awful lot about the state of the law, and may be the most revealing, and important, thing exposed.

The blog never really provided much by way of inside revelations, as much as provide a home for a great many miserable law students and new lawyers to not only vent, but believe that someone outside their circumstances shared their anger. On the other hand, Campos never shied from taking his fellow lawprofs to task for their insipid attempts to rationalize their fabulous life and expose the phoniness of their law porn.

It struck me, recently in fact, that whenever I stopped by there and took a look that it was suffering the fate of all one-trick ponies, sounding pretty much like the same record being played over and over.  I have that sense here sometimes as well.  There were always tons of comments, but almost nothing new or thoughtful. I wondered how much longer it could go on.  I got an answer pretty quickly.


19 months and 499 posts later, it turns out that the core message of this blog – that legal academia is operating on the basis of an unsustainable economic model, which requires most law students to borrow more money to get law degrees than it makes sense for them to borrow, given their career prospects, and that for many years law schools worked hard, wittingly or unwittingly, to hide this increasingly inconvenient truth from both themselves and their potential matriculants – has evolved from a horrible heresy to something close to conventional wisdom.
While Campos is only one of a number of lawprofs who put their names and reputations on the line to break ranks with his brethren, he did something others didn’t. He spoke out loud and clear. He responded in kind to the silly defenses offered by those who argued for the status quo, or pooh-poohed the problems suffered by young lawyers.  While others sought to challenge the status quo, but do so in a way that wouldn’t reflect too poorly on them or devolve to a tone that academics thought inappropriate, Campos said things that hurt feelings and made eyes roll.

In a way, he was the missing link between the scambloggers and the academy.  After coming out and taking his hits, other law professors were empowered to join in the voices questioning what law schools were doing to students. Without Campos, I wonder whether they would have been so bold.

In less than 2 years, the idea promoted by Campos, and  Bill Henderson and Brian Tamanaha, has gone very much mainstream.  It’s not a done deal by any stretch, and there are no shortage of lawprofs who hold onto their dreams of the good old days still. But it is now a legitimate discussion, with strong voices in the academy trying to deal with some of the problems. 

Sadly, practicing lawyers remains pretty much on the sidelines, when the problem is theirs as well. But before Campos signed off, he posted a letter sent to him from a lawyer who has now joined the disappeared.



Professor Campos:



I have a feeling you get a lot of e-mail messages like this, and you probably do not have time to respond to them all, but I thought I would give it a shot. I will try to give you an abbreviated version.



I graduated from [elite university] with a B.A. in [social science major] in 1994. I was on scholarship, so I managed to graduate with no debt.

After my clerkship, I went into private practice. I have taken more than 200 depositions, argued motions in court more than 100 times, conducted several multi-day trials, propounded and answered more discovery than I care to think about, and drafted countless briefs, motions, and pleadings…


I was laid off in late 2010, and I have been out of work ever since. There were no accusations of misconduct, no complaints about my work. The law firm was downsizing, and that was that.



I’m 41 years old, I’ve been out of law school for 13 years, and I do not have a book of business, so evidently, my career as a lawyer is over. I have a wife and 2 kids who need me to work, but I don’t know how to do anything other than practice law.

Since I was laid off, I have floundered around, applying for jobs, representing a few clients as a solo practitioner (not that that has been lucrative – think very low five figures per year), and trying to figure out “What happens to all of the lawyers?” 

I am a real, live lawyer with a J.D., a license, and years of experience. But no one will pay me to practice law anymore, and I don’t know how to do anything else. Yes, of course, big changes are coming to law schools and the legal profession, many reforms need to be implemented, and prospective law students need to be warned. It’s not that I am not interested in those things, but I have more immediate problems to solve. I have 2 kids, a mortgage, and 25 more years to work – I can’t waste time being angry at my alma mater, wallowing in my sadness, or pontificating about law schools and my profession. I need to find a way to earn some money SOON. Do you have any suggestions for someone like me?
The email is worth reading in its entirety. Much as we talk about how any person can be accused of a crime, any lawyer can find himself in this situation, or some variation of it.  And this person turned to Paul Campos for help. Not me. Not you. Not the scambloggers. Not the other lawprofs. He turned to Campos.

This is why the issues should matter to all of us. This is why Paul Campos matters. Best of luck, professor.


Domain for Sale

No, not Simple Justice. A really   if you want to make oodles of dough on the interwebz
.


It already comes with tons of really cool, ready-made advertisements. Like this one:



Get it?  And don’t worry, as I’m sure they have releases from all those guys who look swell in orange for the commercial use of their image. Or this one:



It’s got everything. Sex. Ethos. Pathos. And the latest in men’s undergarments. Better grab it. And don’t let that whole ethics thing stand in your way. Forget about those pikers who merely claim to be the best. With a domain like this, you can  own the best defense. Page 1 of Google, here you come!

This is a hot property and somebody is going to make a fortune with this domain. Just throw in a video with a  girl in a bikini and you can order that new Mercedes you’ve been eyeing.

H/T David

When Cops Do Wrong, Blame The Lawyer

It’s hard to come up with a truly novel defense for having coerced a confession and put an innocent 16-year-old in jail for three years, but Worcester managed to pull it off.  Way to go, Worcester!


The lawyer for a woman suing the city alleging a host of civil rights violations has, in an unusual legal turn of events, himself become a defendant in the civil case he filed.

In answering the lawsuit brought late last year by Nga Truong, who was charged by Worcester Police with killing her infant son four years ago based on what was later ruled to be a coerced confession, city lawyers have hit back with a third-party complaint against her lawyer, Edward P. Ryan Jr.
Her lawyer?  Yes, her lawyer.


The city’s complaint in federal court claims that if Ms. Truong is entitled to damages for the nearly three years she spent in jail awaiting trial, then Mr. Ryan is as much to blame as the city because he took too long to get the coerced confession tossed out of court by the judge.

“Ryan’s breach of his duty was a direct and proximate cause of plaintiff’s alleged injuries and damages,” according to the city’s claim.

It was all the lawyer’s fault for not beating the coerced confession quicker. Because everybody knows that coerced confessions are what cops do, so that certainly couldn’t have been the cause of the three years Ms. Truong lost. If her lawyer had just beat the confession sooner, should could have been out in minutes. Hours at the longest. Darn lawyer.

It appears that the defense motion to suppress the coerced confession wasn’t filed until almost two years after the arrest. While taking two years to file papers is, in a vacuum, a very long time, it fails to address why it took that long. Certainly the argument isn’t that the lawyer should have done shoddy work to get it in quickly. Given the merit of the argument (based upon the fact that the motion was granted), no doubt Ryan put in the time and work to do it properly. Still, two years?

Nonetheless, the time it took to undo the damage of a coerced confession in no way alters the cause of the defendant’s detention, and to suggest otherwise is utterly absurd.


“Her lawyer allowed almost two years to pass before he made a motion to get her released by suppressing her confession. While there are numerous defenses in this case, our position on this point is that, if the city is somehow found liable for the excessive incarceration, then the lawyer who represented her also bears liability for her time in jail,” [City Solicitor David M.] Moore said.

Legal observer David E. Frank, a lawyer and managing editor of Massachusetts Lawyers Weekly, called the city’s effort to include the lawyer who got her released from prison in any damages resulting from her confinement an unusual one.
Unusual? You think?


Mr. Frank noted that Mr. Ryan likely had to watch the video tapes of his client’s questioning many times, carefully review recent Supreme Judicial Court cases involving confessions and collect testimony from expert witnesses before filing a motion to suppress.

“Is the city saying that the lawyer should have just whipped something together and filed it quickly in a case where a 16-year-old girl was looking at life in prison? That argument seems like a stretch to me,” Mr. Frank said. “The stakes couldn’t have been higher.”
A stretch? Perhaps Mr. Frank can resist the urge to pile on the hyperbole. Regardless of how long Ryan took to submit motions, he was the cause of notion. At most, he might have been an earlier cure to the disease of the coerced confession, but the responsibility for having obtained the confession is exclusively on Worcester, and only on Worcester.  Indeed, had the defense lawyer somehow failed to make the motion at all, would that have altered the wrong of coercing a confession?  It’s crazy.

That said, the delay in submitting motions, assuming that they could have been submitted earlier, presents a second issue that merits concern. Too many lawyers fit their work on behalf of their clients into their schedule. They’ll get to motions when they find the time, or when the mood strikes. In the meantime, the client sits in jail, thinking that she has a lawyer working diligently on the case.

It’s not that clients expect, or would be reasonable to expect, that the lawyer has no other clients, no other work, that might possibly interfere with the lawyer’s spending 24/7 on the defendant’s case. It’s expected and understandable.  But if you can’t make time to prepare and file motions for almost two years, good motions, then something is wrong.  No defendant should have to sit in a cell that long before her attorney has her case on the front burner.

In this case, Ryan is a hero, having won the motion to suppress and freed his client.  And yet, the time spent in jail awaiting the decision that freed her will never be recaptured, and the money made in the false arrest suit will not compensate for the loss of years to a 16 year old.  No one can fault defense counsel for being thorough, detailed and doing his very best.  And indeed, no one can fault him given the outcome. But was a two year delay really necessary while his client sat in jail? 

No, this question still doesn’t make Ryan liable in any way for his client’s being in jail.  It should, however, give him pause to think what he could have done to get her out sooner and get the motion in faster. And the same goes for any other lawyer who may put off work on a case for a client sitting in jail because the timing didn’t fit well with other things he had to do, whether work for another client or work/life balance.  Remember that it might not be convenient for you, but it’s someone else’s life dwindling away in the process. Even if you’re not the problem, it wouldn’t kill you to be part of the solution.

H/T FritzMuffknuckle

There’s No Standing in a Coffin

The  doctrine of Standing is generally a pretty good one. Derived from the Constitution’s Article III requirement of a case or controversy for jurisdiction, It prevents some guy in Des Moines deciding he doesn’t like what some guy in North Carolina did, and suing him for it, forcing the North Carolina guy to have to defend a case against some guy who has nothing whatsoever to do with the claim.

Yet when a good doctrine is combined with those dreaded words, the majority opinion written by Justice Alito, it’s enough to send chills down one’s spine.  That happened in the Supreme Court’s 5-4  reversal in Clapper v. Amnesty International, challenging the constitutionality of §1881a surveillance under the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act of 1978, as amended in 2008.


Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act of 1978 (FISA),50 U. S. C. §1881a, added by the FISA Amendments Act of 2008,permits the Attorney General and the Director of National Intelligence to acquire foreign intelligence information by jointly authorizing the surveillance of individuals who are not “United States persons” and are reasonably believed to be located outside the United States. Before doing so, the Attorney General and the Director of National Intelligence normally must obtain the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court’s (FISC) approval. Surveillance under §1881a is subject to statutory conditions, judicial authorization, congressional supervision, and compliance with the Fourth Amendment.

This is the nice way of saying that an ex parte determination by a secret court is good enough to overcome constitutional objections. The respondents, having prevailed before the Second Circuit after the district court held they lacked standing, argued that they were engaged in international communications with the sort of folks they believed the government likely to target under FISA, and in order to avoid being wiretapped and surveiled, were constrained to engage in more extreme measures to protect their privacy.

And so they sued.

Justice Alito was not impressed, as were the other four justices siding with him.




To establish Article III standing, an injury must be “concrete, particularized, and actual or imminent; fairly traceable to the challenged action; and redressable by a favorable ruling.” Monsanto Co. v. Geertson Seed Farms, 561 U. S. ___, ___. “[T]hreatened injury must be ‘”certainly impending” ’ to constitute injury in fact,” and “[a]llegations of possible future injury” are not sufficient. Whitmore v. Arkansas, 495 U. S. 149, 158.

Yeah, well, that’s usually a pretty good thing.  The problem here is that between the secrecy of targets under FISA and various privileges that would keep it concealed, nobody can ever say that their privacy was violated.  In other words, nobody will ever have standing and therefore no one will ever be able to challenge the constitutionality of §1881a surveillance.

In the New York Times, Adam Liptak points out that this hurdle of Standing has graver ramifications:


More broadly, the ruling illustrated how hard it is to mount court challenges to a wide array of antiterrorism measures, including renditions of terrorism suspects to foreign countries and targeted killings using drones, in light of the combination of government secrecy and judicial doctrines limiting access to the courts.

“Absent a radical sea change from the courts, or more likely intervention from the Congress, the coffin is slamming shut on the ability of private citizens and civil liberties groups to challenge government counterterrorism policies, with the possible exception of Guantánamo,” said Stephen I. Vladeck, a law professor at American University.

While many folks think that groups like Amnesty International and the American Civil Liberties Union have some sort of magic authority to challenge anything, they are subject to the same rules of Standing as anyone else. Though they may exist for the purpose of challenging the actions of the government, they suffer neither greater, nor lesser, harm than does any person subject to the law.  And whether one can argue that an unconstitutional law confers standing on every American or none, absent a particularized injury suffered, has now been answered. By Justice Alito.

While the fact that no one may ever be capable of asserting standing might concern some, it doesn’t bother Justice Alito at all.


Justice Alito wrote that the prospect that no court may ever review the surveillance program was irrelevant to analyzing whether the plaintiffs had standing. But he added that the secret court does supervise the surveillance program.

Does it bring anyone comfort that the courts, although operating in secret, have us covered? Me neither.  But the Court noted that it’s not entirely hopeless:


It is also at least theoretically possible, he added, that the government will try to use information gathered from the program in an ordinary criminal prosecution and thus perhaps allow an argument “for a claim of standing on the part of the attorney” for the defendant.

While Judy Tenuta might say, “it could happen,” ACLU lawyer Jameel Jaffer is not as optimistic.


Mr. Jaffer said the situations were far-fetched.

“Justice Alito’s opinion for the court seems to be based on the theory that the secret court may one day, in some as-yet unimagined case, subject the law to constitutional review, but that day may never come,” Mr. Jaffer said. In many national security cases, he added, the government has prevailed at the outset by citing lack of standing, the state secrets doctrine or officials’ immunity from suit.

Though Standing may well be a good thing in general, it’s now pretty much an insurmountable hurdle to challenging the government’s more creative and covert conduct.  That the government can enact laws beyond challenge presents an intolerable condition. 

While Justice Breyer, in dissent, argues that the harm is “not speculative,” as “it is as likely to take place as are most future events that common-sense inference and ordinary knowledge of human nature tell us will happen,” that’s a bit too chaos theory.  The larger point is that the government should never be capable of giving itself power that cannot be legally questioned.  Indeed, it seems that such extreme authority, which inherently defies due process, is by definition unconstitutional.

But after the 5-4 refusal to hear Clapper v. Amnesty International, we will never know.  Hear that sound?  It’s the slam of the coffin shutting, and we’re inside.



Civic Virtue: Teach Your Children Well

There’s a discussion brewing at Concurring Opinions around a book by lawprofs   James Fleming and Linda McClain entitled  Ordered Liberty: Rights, Responsibilities, and Virtues, which has raised a troubling question. Should the federal government be allowed to compel schools to teach children to be patriots?  No, not your kind of patriots. Not my kind either. The kind of patriots who yell “America, love it or leave it.”

Kent Greenfield questions the propriety of forced patriotism:


[Fleming and McClain] use  as an opening foil an op-ed I wrote in the New York Times in 2011 arguing that Constitution Day is a bad idea and “probably” unconstitutional. In that essay and in a couple of others, I have revealed Constitution Day to be a bete noire of mine. Constitution Day, as you probably know if you’re an academic, is a federal mandate dating from 2005 that any school receiving federal funds — public or private, kindergarten or law school — conduct some kind of educational program on the constitution on or about September 17 of each year. My basic argument is that it operates as a federal content-based mandate on those schools and thus amounts to coerced speech under the First Amendment. More broadly, I argue that coerced patriotism is a Bad Thing, using as my text Justice Jackson’s admonition in West Virginia v Barnette: “To believe that patriotism will not flourish if patriotic ceremonies are voluntary and spontaneous, instead of a compulsory routine, is to make an unflattering estimate of the appeal of our institutions to free minds.”

While some of us view Constitution Day as an opportunity to remind people that it protects individual rights and liberties from the government, schools tend more toward banners and platitudes about the great glory of the nation, filling the minds of innocent children with faith that government is our friend.

Sitting through a high school awards ceremony last year, I noted how many prizes and awards were handed out for various flavors of civic virtue.  Whether called citizenship or patriotism, the point (together with a very directed incentive system) was to foster the belief that our government is good and their support of the government, no matter what, wins a prize. 

In response, the author Fleming writes:


Greenfield poses the question, “Does our judgment of what constitutes a valid exercise of the federal government’s power to encourage civic virtue depend on the content of what is being encouraged?” Our answer is, yes, it most certainly does. As we put it, quoting the Supreme Court, government may “inculcate fundamental values necessary to the maintenance of a democratic political system.”

Values? Like critical thinking? Like understanding how to assert the rights protected? Like voting?  The problem isn’t that there are civic virtues worthy of being fostered, but that left in the hands of the government, the obvious fear is that they will be the values the government wants us to have: obedience, passivity toward government abuse, blind faith and “America, love it or leave it.”

While many here are busy arguing about the nuts and bolts of how the interests of the government, particularly law enforcement, conflict with the rights of the people, we rarely give much thought to what those other folks are telling our children about how they should think and behave.  As parents, we naturally assume that we are the most significant influence on our children’s world view, and therefore waste little time thinking about what others offer.  And indeed, this is probably the case.

At the same time, does the government really have a role to play in teaching our children to be good little citizens?  Should they be dangling federal funding in front of school district’s noses, theirs for the taking if only they throw a party for the government on command?  How many public school superintendents are disinclined to embrace the whole civic virtue concept anyway?  Like our civic leaders in Washington, local school bosses are very much in tune with a student body that adores and appreciates their prominence.

Is civic virtue a bad thing? That depends. Are we teaching children the good and bad, the right and wrong, the rights and responsibilities, of being an American?  Are we teaching it accurately or are we instilling a religious belief that our government can do no wrong and the highest virtue is to trust and support the government no matter what? 

The problem is that there are no prizes given out to students who are the best at asserting their right to counsel or their refusal to consent to a search.  The Constitutional Day mandate is a government project. The compelled celebration is one of the greatness of our government and our system.  It may be the same Constitution that the rest of us read, but it’s tied up in the government’s bow.

For those who believe that nothing short of revolution will salvage our freedoms, there’s nothing about civic virtue that will bring a smile to your face. For those who believe that the concept of republicanism can only survive with a knowledgeable and informed citizenry, then civic virtue has its merit. But is it best left in the hands of government to foster its own adoration?  There’s the rub.

Like the other Greenfield, the notion of the government, an entity that should putatively exist to serve the needs of the citizenry, throwing itself a party and coercing (or encouraging, if one prefers such rhetorical distinctions) our youth to join in the fun, isn’t nearly as worthwhile as a government earning the appreciation of its citizens, who then show spontaneous appreciation for the good it does.

But that would require the government to worry less about how to get the public to become obedient patriots, making the job of people who were once called public servants but now call themselves our Leaders far more difficult and much less satisfying.  Civic virtue is a wonderful thing. Just not theirs.