And the Winner of the 2012 Jdog Prize is…

Once again, the criminal law blawgosphere has proven itself singularly vital and alive in an internet filled with self-serving promotional, worthlessly self-aggrandizing, and the empty and pointless murder of words.  Not that we don’t have our share of scoundrels, but they don’t hold a candle to the excellence demonstrated by the nominees for this year’s Jdog Prize.  And I couldn’t be prouder than to be a small part of this group.

Each year, the blawgosphere becomes increasingly crowded, as newcomers are sold on the proposition that throwing crap against the screen will bring them wealth and prestige.  While they don’t tend to last long, and leave their dead flotsam in their wake, they suck much of the air out of the blawgosphere during their short time pretending to be a blawger.  Don’t think I don’t notice your twitter bios proclaiming you to be an important blawger and motivational speaker, even though you’ve written nothing of merit and your last post was 14 months ago.

But the nominees here produce.  They produce ideas, discussion, thought that illuminates others.  Their writing makes other see the joy and misery of the criminal justice system. They do so with poetry and humor, with feeling and thought.  They make every reader better for having spent a few minutes of their lives reading their words.

Having traversed the blawgosphere to see what other practice areas are producing, I can say without hesitation that there is no legal niche that produces as much quality writing as criminal defense lawyers.  We should be proud of ourselves for this.

The downside, for me, is trying to pick the one post of the many that stands out.  This year, the “old faithful” have once again provided exceptional work.  Two prior winners, Jeff Gamso and Gideon, in particular have written post after post worthy of recognition. 

A relative newcomer, Appellate Squawk, has demonstrated the ability to consistently use humor to skewer the foibles of the system and its robed gatekeepers.  The difficulty of doing this can’t be understated.  While humor has long been recognized as an effective means of providing biting commentary, it’s incredibly difficult to maintain.  Yet the Squawk has proven itself up to the task, and has gained a loyal and appreciative following as a result.

But this year’s winner is a young lawyer who has allowed us to share in his maturation as a criminal defense lawyer, beginning when he was a complete rookie and growing into a hardened and effective advocate.  His posts have let us be a part of his growth, as naive ideals gave way to the ugliness and unfairness of our duty, and yet how he (and we) persist despite it.

This year’s winner is particularly dear to me, as so much of what he’s experience reminds me of my early years as a criminal defense lawyer.  His posts bring me back to my own epiphanies, the successes and failures that mold a war veteran.  He’s done the same for many others, as well, and serves as an exceptional role model for the many new lawyers just beginning in this unpleasant enterprise.

And so, I am thrilled to award the  4th Annual Jdog Memorial Best Criminal Law Blawg Post to Matt Brown at  Tempe Law Blog for this post:



A Waste


While I suspect Matt has moved well beyond any need for validation of his work, I nonetheless hope he will accept this badge as a token of his enormous contribution to the blawgosphere, the excellence of his writing and recognition of the best criminal law blawg post of 2012.



My deepest appreciate to the lovely and talented  Amy Derby for again creating the winner’s badge, and thus saving me from the humiliation of feebly attempting to put something together that would never be as good as what Amy does.

Bernie Burk: Toxic Tone v. Vacuous Style (Update)

On the final day of 2012, Keith Lee at  An Associate’s Mind decided to fill the gap in UNC lawprof  Bernie Burk’s grasp of the definition of the “law school disaster.”  Burk, whose bio at the UNC law school’s website, graduated first in his class at Stanford Law School in 1983, should have been able to figure it out on his own. It’s been the subject of a great deal of discussion. But apparently, something stood in his way.

It seems that Kyle P. McEntee, Patrick J. Lynch, and Derek Michael Tokaz, the founders of Law School Transparency, released a paper entitled “The Crisis in Legal Education: Dabbling in Disaster Planning.”  Burk, posting at The Faculty Lounge, an insular blog where lawprofs can chat amongst themselves without the intrusion of either the Philistines or Luddites, ripped them a new one.



So I was intrigued to look into the latest contribution to the law-school reform discussion authored by LST’s co-founders and its research director … What a disappointment.  Commentators with the public stature of Law School Transparency should not “dabble.”


I do not mean to say that three twenty-somethings who have essentially never practiced or taught law have no place explaining how to assemble a curriculum or run a law school so that its graduates will be both prepared to practice and attractive to legal employers in the most difficult legal job market in American history.  I do mean to say that, if you don’t know how to do it and you don’t know how to teach it, you really ought to do your homework so that your prescriptions are meticulously grounded in empirical experience and coherent argument.  Sadly, you won’t find much of either here….

Sadly, there is no linking to Burk’s post, as he has since removed it, as he explains here:



Some friends and colleagues who read my lengthy post on Law School Transparency’s recent article on law-school reform gently suggested that I should stop publicly haranguing myself on the bus before people began to worry about my stability (those who read the post will understand the reference).  Kyle McEntee of LST also contributed a measured and thoughtful Comment of the kind that I had come to value and respect from him and his organization, for which I thank him. 


I remain uncomfortable with both the form and the substance of LST’s proposals, but I also recognize the merit of the friendly advice I’ve received that there are more constructive ways to contribute to this important discussion than the one I chose.  So I’ll work on it and try again in a few days.

Fortunately, Paul Carron posts some of Burk’s original harangue at Tax Prof Blog.  One line in Keith’s and Paul’s post from Burk’s facile rationalization struck me as the most significant impediment:


Kyle McEntee of LST also contributed a measured and thoughtful Comment of the kind that I had come to value and respect from him and his organization…

Burk’s allowance for discussion requires LST to meet his expectations of civil discourse.  He applauds McEntee’s “measured and thoughtful” comment, which is lawprof-speak for this otherwise undistinguished kid spoke to me in a manner I deem to be sufficiently respectful to make him worthy of my approval, and hence my response.

This is a theme in Burk’s writing.
Q: Then why are you being so harsh with LST?  You’ve really been kind of a jerk, you know.

A: Well, I am being harsh.  Here’s why: LST has (in my opinion) distinguished itself since it came upon the scene by its mostly measured and thoughtful idiom, and its basic confidence in the power of information to influence rational behavior and level the playing field.  The article I just criticized is an abrupt and in my opinion unwelcome departure from a style of public discourse that I genuinely admire, not only because it is predominantly engaged and positive (though it is), but because it is—again, in my opinion—effective.   Tossing around the rhetoric of “disaster” and “crisis” without meaningful effort to define the threat, couched in empirically vacuous and occasionally self-contradictory pronouncements, reverts to the toxic style of discourse sadly prevalent in current affairs, and doesn’t advance anything other than perhaps LST’s public profile.  There are more wholesome and productive ways to achieve that end.  In my opinion, LST should hold itself to the same standards of data-driven rationality and full disclosure to which it rightly holds the institutions it criticizes.

Unlike McEntee, some punk kid who “never practiced or taught law,” I have done both, which leads me to wonder, who the hell does Burk think he is that he is entitled to sit high in his Ivory Tower and condescend to recognize the complaints of McEntee and the tens of thousand of former law students, now debtors, working the cash registers of big box stores? Keith provides your empirical definition:


First Job Outa Law School


first job law school


Not proven to your satisfaction?  Not conveyed with the niceties that the kid who graduated first in his class at Stanford demands of the groundlings?  Too fucking bad.*

Your friends were kind enough to “gently” suggest that you take down your Faculty Lounge post that marked you as douche.  Need an empirical definition of douche too? 

What these kids are experiencing is real.  How blind can you be not to notice that those same law students who undertook huge, and unjustifiable, debt to hear your sweet, dulcet tones in the classroom, are now facing personal ruin?  Sure, they bear fault, as do I and every other practicing lawyer who left academics to their own devices until the shit hit the fan in 2007, when we first came to the realization that greed and self-serving blindness in the legal academy had brought the future of the legal profession to the edge of the precipice.  And you don’t care for the way it’s being discussed?  You are only willing to engage if the discourse meets your expectations of civility?  Because you are so brilliant and genteel?

Half the time, I get a headache trying to figure out the underlying sentiment of scholarly discourse, the vacuous language designed to be so very subtle as to damn with faint praise.**  So much could have been achieved if the delicate sensibilities didn’t get in the way of substance.  But even those lawprofs who told you that you were a jerk couldn’t bring themselves to speak out in clear, unambiguous terms.

So let me explain something, from the perspective of a guy who spent 30 years in the trenches where real people (we call them clients (and they are the only reason we, and even you, though by a circuitous route, get paid) cry very real tears. Some things are real. Misery is real. And you should get down on your knees and thank your lucky stars that you were able to enjoy a remarkably well-paid life for someone so dismissive of the misery he is partially responsible for causing and perpetuating.

You don’t care for the uncivil tone of the complaints?  Who cares. You’re lucky they didn’t storm your scholarly office and string you up by your tongue. Now that would have been uncivil, and well deserved.

* While I generally avoid the use of curses, it struck me as appropriate to use them in this post. Screw the effete tone that pleases the professoriate. It’s time to deal with the misery caused by law schools, regardless of how it’s expressed or whether it meets with the approval of academics like Bernie Burk.

** Subsequent to posting this, a clinical lawprof suggested that I note, for the sake of those unaware of the distinction, that they remain firmly planted in the real world of lawyering rather than the theoretical (and are frowned upon by the “real” lawprofs for it).  Unlike those lawprofs who refuse to engage except on their terms, the clinical profs aren’t afraid of less-than-civil discourse and are just as happy to confront the substance of real-life problems in academia as they are to address the real-life problems of their clients in the trenches.

Update:  North Carolina lawyer  Damon Chetson ponders whether this Bernie Burk could be the same Bernie Burk crowing in Carolina Law magazine about how UNC Law is so fabulous that every graduate gets a job?



But back to Burk, who does a little dabbling of his own in Carolina Law, a glossy magazine designed primarily for UNC alumni and donors to the law school:



“Many more prestigious schools, including Carolina, still see nearly all their graduates employed within nine months after graduation.”


Is Burk correct?


No. Law School Transparency reports that only 68 percent of UNC’s class of 2011 was employed in full-time, long term legal jobs. About 1 in 5 graduates did not have a full-time, long term job of any sort nine months after graduating from UNC.


Chestons concludes:



Apparently if you use stark language to describe the nature of what is a real, lived crisis for tens of thousands of law school grads, you’re not contributing to the public discourse in a manner that meets Bernie Burk’s high standards.


But if you overstate the employment results for recent grads of UNC Law School… you’re Bernie Burk.


It seems that shilling for one’s employer in law porn has its problems as well. If forced to chose between civil discourse and honesty, the latter would win for me.  If you picked the former, well…you’re Bernie Burk.

Sticky: Nominations are Open for the 4th Annual Jdog Memorial Best Criminal Law Blawg Post — Last Day For Nominations!

While the ABA Journal is busy checking out blogs in bikinis, it’s time for the Practical Blawgosphere to once again honor the dedicated efforts of criminal law blawgers in bringing illumination to the substance of criminal law.  As explained last year,


This is no beauty pageant, but a chance to accomplish two things.  First, to open the door to the best substantive content on the subject of criminal law, and second, to expose the excellent efforts of the best group of blawgers to people who might not otherwise have seen it.

This year, the award is being dedicated to the memory of Joel Rosenberg, a dear friend to the criminal law blawgsphere, a brilliant writer and a voice of wit and reason amidst the noise of anger and ignorance.  Hereinafter, it will be known as the Jdog Prize, the name Joel used to write and comment online, to remember and honor Joel’s contributions and impact in the lives and thoughts of so many criminal law blawgers.

Past winners of the Best Criminal Law Blawg Post are Ohio’s Jeff Gamso, Connecticut’s  Gid eon and last year’s winner, Houston’s  Mark Bennett.  Illustrious company.

And here’s the deal:



  • Anybody can “nominate” a post for the honor, including their own.  SJ posts are off limits.  You can nominate them anonymously, with great fanfare, just by name or with a detailed explanation of why you think a post is the best.  It can be a post from a criminal defense lawyer, a prosecutor or a non-lawyer, provided it’s subject is criminal law.  It can even be a post by a lawprof. You can nominate up to five posts.
  • Nominations can only be made in the comments here. No emails, phone calls, text messages, fruit baskets or lovely cards with deeply personal messages.
  • For this contest, and for this contest only, I will allow links to be included in comments to the posts (not the blawgs, but the actual posts) nominated.  Spam links will be treated harshly.

  • This is a chance to think back over the year and give everyone some great posts to read, to ponder, to discuss and maybe even change some minds.


And just to be clear, it doesn’t matter if you’re brand-spanking new or an old hand, a dear friend or a complete unknown.  This is all about substance, not popularity, tribes, networking, branding or bonding.  If I smell anyone trying to use this as a marketing opportunity, they’re out of here.  Spam = banned.  If I smell anyone trying to use this for inappropriate purposes, it will end up backfiring. Trust me. Some have even called me abrasive when dealing with impropriety in the comments.

I invite anyone and everyone to offer the best the blawgosphere has in criminal law.  Spread the word, and let others know that this is their opportunity to show their stuff, get a backlink, and let the rest of the blawgosphere know what they’re doing.  

Nothing here at Simple Justice is eligible, so don’t waste time with it.

The winner will be announced on New Years Day.

Judging will be entirely on my shoulders, and I will be as arbitrary and capricious as I please, so there’s no complaining about the choice.  That said, I will do my best to select the blawg post that best reflects our finest work, our highest tradition, our deepest thoughts and our best purpose in putting words on a computer screen.  For anyone who doesn’t trust me to be fair, find a better offer elsewhere. 



The Constitution, Just A Suggestion

In one of the truly rare op-eds that challenge a fundamental precept, Georgetown lawprof Louis Seidman argues in the  New York Times that our adoration of the Constitution is, well, dumb.

Our obsession with the Constitution has saddled us with a dysfunctional political system, kept us from debating the merits of divisive issues and inflamed our public discourse. Instead of arguing about what is to be done, we argue about what James Madison might have wanted done 225 years ago.

As someone who has taught constitutional law for almost 40 years, I am ashamed it took me so long to see how bizarre all this is. Imagine that after careful study a government official — say, the president or one of the party leaders in Congress — reaches a considered judgment that a particular course of action is best for the country. Suddenly, someone bursts into the room with new information: a group of white propertied men who have been dead for two centuries, knew nothing of our present situation, acted illegally under existing law and thought it was fine to own slaves might have disagreed with this course of action. Is it even remotely rational that the official should change his or her mind because of this divination?

Ancient document from a time long since gone?  But without it, won’t chaos and tyranny ensure? Seidman relates the American history of constitutional disobedience, showing that it’s not as if we’ve stringently adhere to the old gal, and yet we’ve survived.


IN the face of this long history of disobedience, it is hard to take seriously the claim by the Constitution’s defenders that we would be reduced to a Hobbesian state of nature if we asserted our freedom from this ancient text. Our sometimes flagrant disregard of the Constitution has not produced chaos or totalitarianism; on the contrary, it has helped us to grow and prosper.

Of course, on those occasions when we, as a society, decided that extreme situations demanded turning a blind eye to the Constitution, we didn’t always grow and prosper. Japanese internment camps in World War II wasn’t such a high point. Many would argue that Schechter Poultry did us far more harm than good, and it’s not at all clear that the Alien and Sedition Act was our finest hour.

Seidman isn’t suggesting that we throw it all away, inexplicably arguing that we should retain the rules he likes while discarding the ones he doesn’t, making himself the bar for neo-constitutionality.  For the rest, he contends that we will continue those institutions that society accepts as viable.


What would change is not the existence of these institutions, but the basis on which they claim legitimacy…

What has preserved our political stability is not a poetic piece of parchment, but entrenched institutions and habits of thought and, most important, the sense that we are one nation and must work out our differences. No one can predict in detail what our system of government would look like if we freed ourselves from the shackles of constitutional obligation…

While there is some merit to the arguments that we are hardly as devoted to constitutional fealty as we pretend, and that the strain of trying to shoehorn solutions to current problems into a constitutional paradigm stretches reason to the breaking point, Seidman fails to appreciate the big picture.

As a parent, we dictate rules to our children.  We tell them not to play with matches, or jump off the roof to see if they can fly.  When the younguns demand to know why, we respond: Because we say so. They hate that. Always have. But to keep them from doing boneheaded stuff, we don’t open up our every decision to debate. 

At the same time, we know they will test our boundaries, and expect them to do so.  We hope that the basic rules we instilled in them will serve as the parameters within which they will function, so that when they push the envelope, they won’t do anything too dangerous, too harmful.  We know we can’t watch them every second of every day, and so we trust that we’ve given them sufficient guidance to protect them from the worst.

The same is true of our Constitution.  It provides the fundamental rules within which our society is supposed to function. It’s not that regimes won’t push the envelope, test the edges of those rules or, on rare occasion, run full speed toward the cliff when someone believes it has to be done.  It’s that we have a bottom line, a minimum, by which to judge such actions.

Without it, would we devolve into tyranny?  Maybe. It’s happened to others, and it can happen here as well, since the government has a lot of weapons and whoever has the finger on the button gets to say when those weapons get used.  Yet a poetic piece of parchment allows for a regime change every four or eight years without a single shot being fired. This is an astounding thing.  Ponder it for a moment and appreciate its uniqueness in the history of mankind.

While it’s true that some of the rules may not be a whole lot better than their alternatives, it’s like the basic rule of the road, keep to the right.  The right is not inherently better than the left, but without it, we would crash into one another.  It doesn’t matter so much which side is chosen, but that a side be chosen.  The same is true of our Constitution.


Edit: I regularly wonder what would happen if the Bill of Rights was put up for popular vote today. I’m quite certain that the Fourth would never pass, even if the Second was relatively safe.  As for the Fifth and Sixth, I doubt they would get a lot of support as currently written, and the First wouldn’t stand a chance.  One thing the Constitution does remarkably well is protect us from the tyranny of the majority, even though many would disagree.  Without it, the notions of free speech and equal protection would be long dead, rather than merely crippled as they currently exist.  Remember, bad as things may be, they can always be worse.

And frankly, it’s held up remarkably well.  Not perfect, but even now, as we question and challenge the legislative decisions of the past month that ignore the rights preserved by this ancient document, we have something to turn to so that we can call out impropriety and fecklessness.  As the minimum standards to which all acts of government are supposed to adhere, it is still relevant and well-suited to our demands for the preservation of our rights from an overbearing government.

Sure, it can sometimes feel as if it’s strangling us, particularly for those people whose expectations of government are to caress them and make all their fears disappear.  But as the basic rules for the creation of a political system that can withstand the worst mankind has to offer, it’s proven pretty damn effective.

The Constitution?  I’ll keep it.  Now if I can just get the government to love it as much as I do.





Looking Backward, Seeing Nothing

Note: This is not an end-of-year review post, reflecting on lessons learned in 2012. Given the date, and the title, it might have been, but it’s not. Sorry if you feel misled.

While abuse of the “do it for the children” rationale is rampant, there are times when it is precisely appropriate.  At those times, the irony of needless initiatives enacted under such appeals to emotion moving forward at lightning speed while worthwhile initiative languish becomes even more pronounced. This post reflects one of those sad ironies. 

From Newsday:

In 2003, Rep. Peter King (R-Seaford) introduced the Cameron Gulbransen Kids and Cars Safety Act, named for a 2-year-old Woodbury boy whose pediatrician father backed over him in their driveway. Five years later, Congress passed the measure with strong bipartisan backing, and President George W. Bush signed it in 2008.

But almost another five years later, the standards have yet to be mandated because of delays by the U.S. Department of Transportation, which failed to meet a Feb. 28, 2011, deadline to issue the new guidelines to car companies.

Greg Gulbransen, an Oyster Bay pediatrician, back over his 2-year-old son because he didn’t see him behind his car.  I know Greg. Dr. SJ knows Greg.  He was my children’s ped. An excellent doc and a good man. This was the most heart-breaking event in his life. 

While it might have been overreaching to demand a cure to this tragedy if it was just one man’s mistake, it turned out to be a fairly pervasive problem.

The government estimates such accidents kill 228 people a year — 110 of them young children — and injures another 17,000.

At the same time, the auto industry already had a ready solution in hand, in use, and available: Rearview cameras.  The chief complaint against the cameras was cost.

The NHTSA estimates that making rear cameras standard on every car would add $58 to $88 to those already equipped with dashboard display screens, and $159 to $203 for those without them.

There were two chief arguments favoring the mandate, that it would resolve a common problem that impacted many people, some of whom were small children who lost their lives.  And secondly, car makers were more than happy to put rearview cameras in vehicles as selling points, as people desired them and they made the cars more appealing to potential purchasers.

The flip side of the problem is that cars that would sell regardless of cameras didn’t need them to close the deal, and so car manufacturers could safely leave out the cameras without a fear of losing sales.  The money issue cut both ways, where the inclusion of the camera cost a bit, but was worth it if it sold the car, but if not, then cutting cameras out of the car put that much more in the manufacturer’s pocket.

When Dr. SJ bought her first Prius, it came standard with a rearview camera. Back then, Toyota wasn’t sure whether it’s hybrid experiment would work, and wanted to beef up the safety features of the car to make it as appealing to buyers as possible. 

When Dr. SJ bought her most recent Prius, the camera was gone, though it could be added in for a ridiculous amount of money. Toyota’s Prius was a firmly established model, and they left out everything they could get away with this time around. No need for frills when your model is hot.  Even without the rearview camera, the car cost a whole lot more this time around.

As we wave good-bye to 2012, we come up to the ten year anniversary of the law mandating rearview cameras, and yet it has still not been implemented.

But almost another five years later, the standards have yet to be mandated because of delays by the U.S. Department of Transportation, which failed to meet a Feb. 28, 2011, deadline to issue the new guidelines to car companies.
Transportation Secretary Ray LaHood has changed that deadline three times — promising in February that the rules would be issued by year’s end.

“By year’s end” would refer to this year. It didn’t happen.  The explanation is decidedly unavailing:

The National Highway Traffic Safety Administration, charged with completing the new standards, declined requests to discuss the delays.

Spokeswoman Karen Aldana said the agency would not comment while the rule-making process was ongoing, but asserted it was on track to meet LaHood’s latest cutoff date.

In his February letter to lawmakers, LaHood said his agency needed more time for “research and data analysis” to “ensure that the final rule is appropriate and the underlying analysis is robust.”

Ten years without anything, and LaHood’s best argument is that they want the “final rule” to be “appropriate”?

They pass laws criminalizing speech about bullying, to bolster the self-esteem of delicate teacups, in hours.  They pass laws authorizing the warrantless search of electronic communications, so that law enforcement is never forced to suffer the indignity of seeking a warrant, without delay.  Ten years later, there are no regulations mandating the auto manufacturers include rearview cameras that they are more than happy to throw into vehicles at the request of the marketing department.

As much as the law can’t create the perfect world that so many want to believe it can, this is one fix that the law can easily mandate, and it will save the lives of children.  And it’s as dead today as Greg Gulbransen’s beautiful 2-year-old son Cameron. 

The Manufactured Criminal

At Crime and Consequences, Bill Otis tries to sneak in through the back door of the Webster, New York,  murder of two firefighters on Christmas Eve by raising the  two women who purchased guns for the shooter, a convicted felon who would be ineligible to buy guns for himself.  It’s a sneaky move, considering that he never mentions the impetus for his post until a link in the last line of his post.

Rather, the post begins:


Liberals and, especially, libertarians, have unending heartburn about imposing criminal punishment for non-violent, regulatory offenses.  One particular provision that gives them fits is the federal false statements statute, 18 USC 1001, which makes it a felony for a person to make a false or deceptive statement  to any department or agency of the United States in any matter within the agency’s jurisdiction.

It’s a disingenuous start to an argument, given that the substantial issues raised are hardly of interest only to people of certain political persuasions.  He could have substituted “intelligent, and, especially, well educated people” for political ideology, but that would not have served his ends.  Better to use pejorative terms and play “hide the salami.”



It is true that Section 1001 is potentially subject to abuse by prosecutors.  On the other hand, it would be hard to find a statute that is not “potentially” subject to abuse.  It seems to me to be very much an overdrawn conclusion that potential abuse outweighs the damage to legitimate governmental functions that can be caused by lying.  

This provides valuable insight into both the illogic of overcriminalization, as disturbing to conservatives as anyone else, and the blind faith reposed in law enforcement.  While it’s true that unethical or deceitful prosecutors have the potential to abuse every aspect of the system, say by withholding Brady or proffering false testimony, it’s of a fundamentally different nature.

A §1001 violation criminalizes statements to federal authorities that they deem untrue. Because agents and prosecutors have a magical ability to distinguish “real” truth from fake “truth.”  And they do: “real” truth is their truth, what they believe. What anyone else believes but they do not is a crime.

Worse still is the “exculpatory no” problem.


The most prominent example of judicial willingness effectively to circumvent the false statements statute lay in many courts’ acceptance of the “exculpatory no” doctrine, in which an interviewee’s simple, though false, denial of wrongdoing in response to an investigator’s question was held to be outside the statute.  (The “exculpatory no” doctrine was brought to an end in 1998 in Brogan v. United States).  

In other words, if the government decides you’re guilty and you denied guilty, you’re not only guilty for the underlying offense they believe you committed, but for a second crime of denying guilt.  As Justice Scalia wrote, there is no exception to §1001 for any false statement, including the denial of guilt. 

This, of course, means that if a federal agent asks if you’re guilty, the only safe answer is to invoke the right to remain silent.  While this is always a good idea, it’s rarely a person’s first reaction, and will invariably serve to confirm the agent’s suspicion. After all, innocent people deny guilty. Only guilty people avail themselves of the Constitution in a fed’s mind.

But then, what of the critical function served by the statute, so compelling that it overcomes the potential for abuse?


I also think libertarians focus on the perils of excessive government to the unhealthy exclusion of understanding the moral rot, and the damage, created by our present culture of deceit.
Assuming you begin with the premise that we are suffering from moral rot, based upon our culture of deceit, which is destroying the very fabric of our society that extreme laws are needed to return us to a state of grace, perhaps you will believe the risk worth taking.  After all, if we are a society so grounded in deceit that no one except federal agents and prosecutors are trustworthy, criminalizing statements that don’t conform to what prosecutors want to hear makes some tiny amount of sense.

To prove his case, Otis finally raises the specter of the two Webster women who lied when purchasing weapons for the felon next door, the mechanism by which he seeks to show that it’s the lie, not the act that gave rise to harm, that must be eradicated.

While Otis seeks to couch his argument in political terms, invoking the dreaded liberal/libertarian cabal responsible for the moral rot in society, it’s really an argument of religion.  He believes that federal agents and prosecutors are the representatives of good and decency in society, and the rest of us are reduced to the persuptively evil.  He believes that a law that enables the forces of truth and justice to overcome the forces of moral rot to be worthwhile to combat the greater peril of our culture of deceit.

By his theory, there is no criminal law that doesn’t serve to benefit society, since all laws empower the forces of good against the forces of evil, and the forces of good can invariably be trusted not to abuse their awesome power.  And to prove it, he grasps the horror of the Webster murders.

Just as we rail against new laws being crafted in the name of every tragedy, to remedy every harm that befalls someone in the quest to create a perfect world, Otis’ use of this tragedy to rationalize §1001 is similarly misguided and false. His attempt to use one outlier tragedy to justify a bad law with grave likelihood of abuse is the sort of disingenus sermons heard from itinerant preachers making the lame walk and the blind see.  And it’s no more valid or true.

As a coda to Otis’ psalm, he makes no mention of federal agents lying in the Fast and Furious scandal.  Perhaps in his religion, that’s when he turns the other cheek. 

A Desperate Game of Catch-Up

At Real Lawyers Have Blogs, Kevin O’Keefe relates a story from former ABC News reporter, now Mashable editor, Andrea Smith about the Today Show :


It’s not OK to know nothing about social media or the Internet anymore. It’s especially not OK if you are an anchor for a major network TV news program.


This happened after a segment about Randi Zuckerberg’s private family photo being shared publicly. Today’s Willie Geist, Savannah Guthrie and Natalie Morales — three TV journalists at the top of their profession — laughed about their lack of knowledge about Facebook, Twitter and privacy on social media.


It was meant to be cute, but it came off as plain dumb.


As Kevin notes, the same is true for lawyers.  While Kevin may be a tech evangelist, I’m a tech curmudgeon, and yet there is absolutely no doubt that he, and Andrea Smith, are correct. Five years ago, “grown-ups” laughed about kids texting and their silly acronyms. or their incessant checking of their Facebook page as if those friends were real friends.  We were so much more mature, and they were so childish.

For many, lack of knowledge is a badge of honor, to be above fads and trends.  And indeed, there remains no human reason why writing “u r kewl, roflmao” should ever be part of the lawyers lexicon.  But ignorance of the tools of the trade, or a deeply entrenched element of modern society, isn’t cute, or funny, or a badge of honor.  It’s just ignorance.

The internet is here, and its pervasiveness in our society is both certain and growing.  I may not care for much of it, and find fault with many of its pieces, but by no means does that suggest I deny its existence, importance or relevance.

The problem is that for many who have chosen to ignore it over the past decade, trying to understand it now is extremely difficult.  It may be intuitive for digital natives, but it’s nearly incomprehensible to someone who shied away from touching a keyboard up to now.  The problem is that your one-time cute reluctance now marks you as not merely a Luddite, but a moron. Seriously, the kids think you’re brain dead.  More importantly, your clients do too. It’s just not funny.

There is a huge middle ground between the person who waits on line for the next iteration of the iPhone and the person who won’t use a phone without a coiled cord.  You don’t have to be cutting edge, but you do need to have a clue.  Not only for your professional existence, but as a matter of ethical responsibility, as clients are entitled to expect you to be sufficiently familiar with the tools of your profession to use them to the clients’ advantage.

At The Legal Whiteboard, Bill Henderson had a similar epiphany when it came to lawprofs, where he asked the question “How Do Law Professors Learn About the Intersection of Law and Technology?”



Here is my best guess:  We show up at the intersection and we listen to lawyers, judges, regulators and vendors talk about the issues of the day.

Earlier this month, there was a major conference in Washington, DC on developments in the world of electronic discovery…Lawyers and clients can no longer cope with the rapidly growing volume of electronically stored information (ESI).  Going forward, technology and nonlegal expertise are a permanent part of the legal industry.

Don’t just turn your head and spit whenever eDiscovery is mentioned. This is one of the problems with being on the outside looking in, only seeing the small part of the problem that someone else put in front of your face.  To appreciate the big picture, one has to live the big picture. If the only glimpse one gets is through a tiny window, myopia is to be expected.  But at least Bill is trying.



Nearly 10 years ago I showed up at the Indiana Solo & Small Firm Conference.  I was there to gain some basic insight for a course I was putting together called “The Law Firm as a Business Organization.”  As the organizers will tell you, a law professor had never before ventured into their conference. What was their reaction?  A very kind, “It’s about time!”  I was immediately drafted onto the organizing committee and in subsequent years conducted two major surveys for the ISBA Solo & Small Firm Section.  To this day, the lawyers I met at that first Solo & Small Firm Conference remain an important part of my professional network.  Ironically, several years ago the small firm crowd was issuing a clarion call on the importance of law and technology — for them, it was all about survival.


Bill goes on to suggest that anyone interested in technology should consider attending LegalTech in New York.  Before you rip him a new one for suggesting a banal trade show as a learning opportunity, bear in mind that Bill is one of a handful of lawprof evangelists seeking to push the professoriate out of the Ivory Halls and into the real world in the hope of teaching law students what they really need to know to function as lawyers. And they need to know more than how to text and update their Facebook status.

For those who have studiously ignored technology for the past decade, in the misguided expectation that it would go away and we would be back to looking up precedent in ALR 3d, those days are gone. Sorry, but they are. Society has moved on. The law has moved on.  And if you haven’t paid attention, you are working at significant deficit and doing yourself and your clients great harm.

The problem is that lawyers, as much if not moreso than TV personalities, haven’t paid attention, and were proud of themselves for their refusal to follow the trend. Now, catching up is going to be terribly difficult. There are a zillion things to learn, and few of them will come easily.  But you have no choice.

The internet and the digital world is here to stay, and only going to become increasingly complex and entrenched in our profession and society.  You can pick and choose which tools you consider viable and necessary, but you have no choice to remain cute and “plain dumb.”  If you haven’t started yet, start now. It’s only going to get harder, and you will only find yourself farther and farther behind, until you finally realize your desperate need to catch up. 

 

Silence the Alarm

Back in the good old crack days of the 1990s in upper Manhattan, murders were commonplace. There were lots of murders, whether dealers shooting over street corners or users whacking old ladies over the head for their next vial.  Not a day went by when there weren’t murders, and some days made Washington Heights look like the OK Corral.  

And in response, police geared up for war. It had to stop, we were told, And they were right. It was bad.

If everyone can take five from fighting over the elimination of guns and institutionalizing anyone who wears stripes with plaids, there’s a bit of news.  From the New York Times :

Murders in New York have dropped to their lowest level in over 40 years, city officials announced on Friday, even as overall crimes increased slightly because of a rise in thefts — a phenomenon based solely on robberies of iPhones and other Apple devices.

There were 414 recorded homicides so far in 2012, compared with 515 for the same period in 2011, city officials said. That is a striking decline from murder totals in the low-2,000s that were common in the early 1990s, and is also below the record low: 471, set in 2009.

Four hundred and fourteen murders in New York in 2012. And 14 of those didn’t happen in 2012, but were from earlier years but added in as they were now classified as murders. So the real number is 400. Not to suggest that any murder is inconsequential, but there was a war on murder, it’s been won. Even Mayor Bloomberg says so.


“The essence of civilization is that you can walk down the street without having to look over your shoulder,” Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg said.

A nice sentiment, but not entirely accurate.


He attributed the low murder rate to the department’s controversial practice of “stop, question and frisk,” in which people are stopped on the street and questioned by officers, and aggressive hot-spot policing, in which officers are deployed to areas with crime spikes.

So people still have to look over their shoulder, but not for fear of the murderer lurking behind them, but the cop.

When staring into a void, it’s easy to claim it’s because of whatever governmental initiatives are in place at the moment.  Stop and frisk, where about 700,000 people are stopped, because a police officer decided to do so, resulting in the seizure of a grand total 780 guns (do the math), was justified by the need to rid the streets of guns, and ridding the streets of guns was justified to stop the epidemic of killings. 

While basic logic reminds us that correlation does not prove causation, let’s allow Mayor Bloomberg and Police Commissioner Ray Kelly their moment in the sun. They did it. Hooray. The number of murders is the lowest since 1963, when the reliability of crime stats were improved. It may be longer.  We should build a statue of these guys, they did such a fabulous job.

But it’s done. They did it, and now it’s done.  Yet the “essence of civilization” remains elusive for New Yorkers, not because of the lack of crime but the extreme tactics of the police. 

Cries following recent events to rid our world of weapons are being heard far and wide, as justification for yet another war and eradication of rights.  It has to be done, proponents say, because it is unacceptable that bad things happen.  Alarms are going off across the nation, and Mayor Bloomberg is among the loudest voices demanding a gunless world. 

Yet there were only 400 murders in New York.

One argument in favor of maintaining the status quo is to point to this significant success and contend that by going back to the days when police weren’t armed for war and empowered to stop anyone, anytime on a whim, we risk a return to the days when 2000 or more murders a year were the norm.  It’s not a good argument for anyone remotely knowledgeable about the streets of the City, but to those inclined to adore fear, it might suffice.

Fortunately, the Mayor doesn’t have to rely on logical fallacies to maintain a standing army in Manhattan, larger and better armed than small nations, and given sweeping powers that would make marshall law seem pointless.  He has the outlier, the freak tragedy, that saddens our front page.  “See,” law enforcement sycophants scream.  “Do you want 20 first graders murdered in Newtown? Do you?” 

No. Of course not, but then I also don’t want 700,000 people, including the  occasional judge and city councilman, to forfeit their constitutional rights either.   I embrace the good mayor’s words, that the essence of civilization is to be able to walk down the street without looking over one’s shoulder.  Whether that refers to criminals or cops doesn’t matter.  

There were only 400 murders in New York this year, and yet we still can’t walk down the street without looking over our shoulder because of the police.  That is not the essence of civilization, but a tactic that was wrong before and wholly unjustified now.  It’s time to silence the alarm.


Breaking Rank

Among the many unwritten rules of the job is the courtesy one cop shows another. The perk was that cops could ignore the “minor” rules, driving faster than others, getting a cup of joe and a donut from an appreciative shopkeeper, parking where only disabled people are allowed, give way. After all, they protect us from criminals, and shouldn’t they be allowed a bit leeway? Don’t they deserve a break?

In 2011, Florida Trooper Donna “Jane” Watts broke the rules.  From the Sun-Sentinel :



Watts made national news in October 2011 when she pulled over off-duty Miami Police Officer Fausto Lopez for speeding in his marked patrol car on Florida’s Turnpike in Broward County.


She followed him for seven minutes and later wrote in a report that he was darting in and out of lanes at speeds exceeding 120 mph. She approached his cruiser with her gun drawn, yelling, and then handcuffed him.


Lopez, who regularly averaged more than 100 mph on his drive between Miami and his home in Coconut Creek, was fired in September.

Yes, if that was you, the price would be steeper than losing your job. Unless you’re a cop.



When Watts pulled over Lopez, the incident was caught on the trooper’s dashboard camera. “This is not a first-time occurrence with y’all,” Watts told Lopez after pulling him over. “Y’all come from that way all the time, this Miami police car, and we never catch it.”


Lopez apologized and tried to explain he was running late. “With all due respect …,” he said, but Watts cut him off. “You don’t respect me, sir,” she said. “You don’t respect these people out here.”

Sadly, the problem isn’t quite Lopez’s lack of respect for the lives of other people on the road, but that he pushed the envelope too far too many times. Much as I would like to laud Watts as a hero, putting the safety of the public ahead of the perk of cop courtesy, there remains a nagging sense that she would have overlooked it had Lopez not pushed so hard.

In November, 2011, police officers from around the state accessed Watts’ personal information from a police database.  This is a violation of regulations, absent an official law enforcement justification for doing so, and Watts has brought suit against more than 100 cops and agencies.  But the violation is technical.  The real concern is not.



Watts began opening her mailbox from the side instead of from the front in case there was something in it.


The suit states that Watts’ supervisors “do not believe that it would ever be safe for her to return to road patrol” and that Watts believes if she ever need police backup in an emergency, it would not be provided. More than a dozen troopers from her own agency also looked up her personal information.

Like Serpico before her, Watts fears for her life. Accessing her personal information was merely the means of learning where to find the traitor. What to do about the traitor was another story.

That police officers, other than Lopez or his pals from the Miami police department, were sufficiently outraged and angered by Watts’ breaking ranks goes a long way toward revealing the depth of entrenched police culture. They show each other courtesy, so that they get courtesy in return.  They do not publicly humiliate a fellow officer under any circumstances. If the problem is so bad that it compels action, they do so within the ranks.  They do not break ranks.

A number of the officers who accessed Watts’ personal data were punished for it. Some were given written reprimands. Others verbal.  After all, they only pushed some computer keys and looked. No real harm done, unless one considers that the purpose of looking was to locate a cop who violated the code and needed to be taught a lesson.  Whether the lesson was the delivery of a prank pizza or taking her life isn’t clear.  After all, the pizza arrived, but she’s still alive.

Yet, Watts’ fear serves a larger purpose: it reminds every cop who thinks that she’s had enough, that the envelope has been pushed too far, that another cop’s lack of respect for the public is more than she can tolerate, that there will be a very steep price to pay.  Maybe that price will be her life. Clearly, the price will include her job.  For years to come, Watts is likely to have a violent, visceral reaction to flashing lights in her rearview mirror when she’s driving on a dark road at night.

The message to cops is clear.  And really, what sort of cop does this to one of her brethren?  What cop doesn’t appreciate the courtesy shown others who are part of that elite corp of men and women who believe themselves absolved of the responsibility to control themselves that keeps us lesser mortals in line?

And the opportunity of governments large and small to shut down the culture that enforces the unwritten rules was there, by firing every cop who unlawfully accessed Watts’ personal records, because they know what it really means, what the real purpose was.  But they didn’t.  And the culture survives. And the next cop who decides she’s had enough of cops owning their world will ask herself, do I want to live like Watts?  Do I want to become the next law enforcement pariah and fear that every time I open my mailbox, I take my life in my hands?

Nobody wants to live that way.  And police can now safely drive home at excessive rates of speed with a free donut in their hand.  Problem solved.

H/T FritzMuffKnuckle

The Buzz From Above

The drones are coming to a neighborhood near you.

As the  New York Times editorial says, it’s no longer a matter of if, but when.


Congress has ordered the Federal Aviation Administration to quickly select six domestic sites to test the safety of drones, which can vary in size from remote-controlled planes as big as jetliners to camera-toting hoverers called Nano Hummingbirds that weigh 19 grams.

The drone go-ahead, signed in February by President Obama in the F.A.A. reauthorization law, envisions a $5 billion-plus industry of camera drones being used for all sorts of purposes from real estate advertising to crop dusting to environmental monitoring and police work.

There are many excellent uses for drones, ranging from search and rescue to providing a capability of an eye in the sky over large stretches of border.  But then, there are uses that are less savory, from law enforcement surveillance to killing.

As is invariably the case, the argument in favor of drones, at least domestically, elevates its good uses over the ones people would find unacceptable, with the government promising the latter won’t happen because it will make rules, maybe even pass laws, that forbid uses that we might find unpalatable at the dawn of the drone age.  Those inclined to believe will sigh in relief. 

One of my inspirational muses, Radley Balko has spent the last year writing a book on the militarization of American law enforcement, which will be available next summer. called Rise of the Warrior Cop.  Though I haven’t read it, I surmise based on Radley’s writings that a core message is that if we put the accoutrements of war in the hands of the police, they will use them.  We can explain the need for tanks and heavy armaments by pointing at the ability to thwart a terrorist takeover of Des Moines, but once they have custom fitted SWAT gear, it will be used at the slightest provocation. Or photo ops.

There will no doubt be times when a drone will appear to be the best choice to deal with a situation which, from the perspective of law enforcement to fulfill a mission unhampered by legal niceties and concern for collateral damage.  No commanding officer will say “let the victim die because there are regulations that say we are not allowed to use a drone for this purpose.”  And when the victim is saved, America will applaud.

And the next time, there will be no victim, but a man the cops believe is very bad, and the drone will protect police from any potential harm in getting this very bad man.  After its successful use, and the press conference where the chief tearfully announces that no police officer died in the apprehension of this very bad man, America will applaud.

And drones will become a part of our life, just as SWAT teams have become a part of our life.  Except they were once only called upon for the most extreme and dangerous of situations, and now they show up to break down door when someone is thought to be smoking pot inside. 

The New York Times anticipates the slippery slope, and offers its solution:


Responding to growing concern as the public discovers drones are on the horizon, the agency recently and quite sensibly added the issue of citizens’ privacy to its agenda. Setting regulations under the Fourth Amendment guarantee against unlawful search is of the utmost importance. But since the F.A.A.’s primary mission is safety, Congress should take the matter in hand by writing privacy safeguards for the booming drone industry.

Certainly agency regulation is inadequate to ensure that interests contrary to the convenience of the government are honored. Regulations change all the time. Regulations are ignored, giving rise to a commission and investigation that, years later, admonish the offending entity and direct it to never violate the regulations again. 

But is Congress a better answer?  After Senator Patrick Leahy  scuttled the warrant requirement for online communications when law enforcement whined that it would force them to work harder, the message is clear.  Congress can no more be trusted with assuring the preservation of our rights than the FAA. Or your local police. Our last line of defense would be the Supreme Court’s refusal to frame a drone exception, but that won’t bring comfort to many.

That drones can, and no doubt will, serve extremely useful, socially acceptable purposes is not in doubt. It’s that the government, once the technology is in place, won’t use it for improper purposes as well.  To ask the public to trust them, to believe that they would never use it improperly, is to ask too much. 

The government has demonstrated at every turn that it cannot control the impulse to use any tool available for purposes beyond the approved scope. And Americans, with short memories and emotionally charged willingness to overlook the government’s trespasses, will applaud.


The idea of watchful drones buzzing overhead like Orwellian gnats may seem far-fetched to some. But Congress, in its enthusiasm for a new industry, should guarantee the strongest protection of privacy under what promises to be a galaxy of new eyes in the sky.

It’s hardly far-fetched, as the technology is readily available. What is far-fetched is the New York Times’ naive hope that the government can restrain itself from abusing this technology as it did the last.  The only way to “guarantee the strongest protection of privacy” is to not give government the tools to violate it.  Once they have them, they will use them.