Ethics: You Can’t Waive Your Own Ineffectiveness

The National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers (NACDL) has  rejected by Colorado Judge John Kane when there wasn’t a specific factual basis to justify its inclusion as part of the deal, and/or a waiver of collateral attack, as might be raised under federal habeas law, 28 U.S.C. §2255.

For anyone unaware, what this really means is that you are waiving the defendant’s ability to later claim that the plea was the product of ineffective assistance of counsel. Perhaps it’s because he wanted to cop out after motions were lost, and it turns out that motions were lost because the defense lawyer overlooked something. Or perhaps there was a lack of investigation that would have produced exculpatory evidence and altered the outcome. Whatever.

It is the opinion of the NACDL Ethics Advisory Committee that, aside from whether the courts might give such waivers, the rules of professional ethics prohibit a criminal defense lawyer from signing a plea agreement limiting the client’s ability to claim ineffective assistance of counsel. The lawyer has a conflict of interest in agreeing to such a provision because it becomes a prospective limiting of liability. Therefore, the lawyer is duty-bound to object to portions of a plea agreement that limit 2255 claims and refuse to assent to such an agreement with such language in it.

It is the opinion of the NACDL Ethics Advisory Committee that such a plea agreement provision creates a personal conflict of interest between the criminal defense lawyer and the client that rises to the level of denial of the right to loyal counsel under the Sixth Amendment. It is also a violation of due process of law under the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments. Defense counsel has a duty to see that the offending provision is removed by the prosecutor or the court because of the inherent conflict it forces on the accused and his or her defense counsel.

All of this is both fine and, frankly, accurate, even though most lawyers wouldn’t think of, or be concerned, with, any limitation on their liability.  Initially, it’s just not a serious concern, but more importantly, few criminal defense lawyers ever think of malpractice liability in the management of their clients or the conduct of their defense.  We’re a pretty tough group by nature and nurture, and use up all our worrying on the welfare of our clients. We do not tend to worry too much about ourselves, at least in this regard. Getting paid is another matter entirely.

But neither the government nor the courts tend to worry too much about the wholesale evisceration of defendants’ rights in the process of disposing of cases.  If they could figure out a half-baked legitimate way to toss into a plea agreement a waiver of producing offspring, they might do that as well, and there aren’t too many judges (like Judge Kane) who would give it a second thought.

The problem is that the government seeks to impose such collateral terms and conditions by unilateral fiat. They aren’t a subject of negotiation. They often aren’t even mentioned in the negotiation process. They just show up in the plea agreement, after the deal has been struck and everybody has exhaled.

The defendant has a primary concern: how many years is he going to have to spend in prison. This, by a mile, is the core of the plea, and trumps all other issues at that moment.  If he gets a deal he can live with, is he inclined to blow it, to put his foot down and say “I reject the deal” because there are some collateral waivers snuck into the papers at the back end?  Not likely. 

First, he won’t see the waiver as particularly significant, unless the lawyer tells him that there is a serious concern that he’s giving up an important right that might later serve to get him out from under the plea.  Second, the alternative is going to trial, where he faces his worst nightmare, the million years suggested by the Sentencing Guidelines.  Chances aren’t good that he’ll refuse the plea, with its hard benefits, because of a speculative waiver of dubious worth.

This is why the NACDL’s advisory opinion is important. While it’s only advisory, it provides a well-conceived argument to go back to the government, and to argue to the judge if he will give a few moments of his important time to such banal matters as a plea agreement, that the inclusion of the waiver would place you in an untenable position of engaging in unethical conduct. It’s not that you don’t want the plea, but that you cannot be unethical. “Judge, what am I supposed to do? I can’t agree to an unethical waiver in a plea agreement.”

The best that could come of this opinion is that the issue is resolved by the circuits holding that waiver of the right to collaterally attack a plea based on ineffective assistance of counsel is unethical, and courts must reject plea agreements containing such waivers.  This may, and should, happen, but it will take years before the issue ever reaches the circuits, and there is certainly no assurance that they will come out on the right side.

In the meantime, the NACDL ethics opinion provides a well-reasoned basis to refuse to agree to such waivers, and the basis to argue that the government’s insistence on a waiver puts defense counsel in an untenable position, as you cannot enter into an agreement that is inherently unethical. Hopefully, district judges will appreciate the problem and refuse to allow the government to ram such waivers down defendants’ throats.

H/T Michael K. Bachrach, President, New York Criminal Bar Association





Police Perjury: Is The Tide Turning?

It’s not that police testifying to whatever it is they need to accomplish the greater good of convicting people they decide deserve convicting is new.  But even when caught lying, there was always an excuse, an apology, a rationalization to cover it. And life went on.

This is what makes the conviction of two Los Angeles cops different. They got caught lying and they were prosecuted.  Not only were they prosecuted, but they were convicted. They were convicted of perjury.  From Southern California Public Radio :


Officer Richard Amio and former officer Evan Samuel testified that they chased a man into his apartment in Hollywood in 2007 and immediately saw him toss a black object that contained cocaine. A surveillance video showed it actually took four officers more than twenty minutes to find the drugs. 


LAPD Chief Charlie Beck said in a statement the officers actions were unacceptable.


Unacceptable? I can live with that. Reprehensible might have been better, but we take what we can get.


“I am truly saddened by the events that led to the perjury conviction of a current and a former Los Angeles Police Officer,” Beck said int he statement. “As I said when the charges were filed, I do not believe their intent was evil, just extremely misguided. The character of our organization is defined by the conduct that we condone. These actions were entirely unacceptable.”  

Unacceptable again? Fair enough.  As Chief Beck notes in his attempt to minimize the nature of the wrong and distinguish his cops from “real” criminals, “their intent was [not] evil, just extremely misguided.”  What he means is that they only lied to get the bad guy.  Yet again, the late Murray Kempton’s words ring true: “There they go again, framing the guilty.”


Aside: A quick search of the Kempton quote revealed that an  old post of mine where I used it was copied in its entirety and posted by Ademo Freeman at Copblock without attribution, or even a link back to the original. While I’m happy he thought the post worthy of taking, I’m not as happy about my content being stolen.  How about a little integrity, guys? It would be nice of you to ask first, but posting without attribution as if you wrote it isn’t cool.

There isn’t much explanation or discussion needed about the fact of perjury.  Cops believe that trials, testimony, swearing to tell the truth, is a game that’s played to give the impression that there is a legal system so the natives don’t get terribly bent out of shape. As long as citizens believe we have a system, they sleep well at night.  They also sleep well at night knowing that their brave officers keep the streets safe from murderers and rapists by putting the bad guys in prison. All is well with the world.

You see, we’re naive and silly. The cops understand their job. Rid of us criminals. Only children and defense lawyers think they’re actually supposed to tell the truth. They know better. They laugh about it over beers after a day in court.

So when the video conclusively showed these cops to be perjurers, one would expect them to get a very stern lecture from some mid-level supervisor telling them to never get caught again.  Instead, they found themselves on the receiving end of an indictment and, even more surprising, a guilty verdict.

And the Chief of Police called the conduct unacceptable.  Not evil, but misguided. 

Does this mean the rules are changing? Is it unacceptable to lie to make sure the bad guys go to prison?  it’s not likely. After all, rarely does a cop get caught.  Even when judges believe the cop is just making up a story to justify the bust, they will never find the cop a liar in the absence of irrefutable proof. Never. Their testimony is credible, even when it falls off the precipice of the absurd, because to do otherwise would destroy a finely tuned system that fools the happy natives and keeps the police unions, district attorneys and supervising judges off their backs.

But this time, the cops were convicted.  Without the video, they wouldn’t have been.  Even with video, chances are poor that anyone would face a judge, no less a jury.  There are a bunch of excuses available, including the ubiquitous “we’re going to investigate” until everybody forgets about it and moves on to the next scandal. 

Yet, this conviction, particularly in light of some other verdicts in LA and Chicago, suggests that attitudes toward the police, toward their lying, toward their violence, may be changing. Just a little. But changing. It’s a start.





[Intentionally Left Blank]

Five years ago, the question around the blawgosphere was when lawyers would finally, finally, realize that the internet was here to stay and start becoming a part of it.  Most of us who engaged in it were surprised at how few lawyers had ever taken the time online to do more than google where to buy some doodad or get directions to an address.  Actually, we were shocked at how few even knew how to do that.

Times are beginning to change. Sadly, not for the better.  I’ve been fighting a war over the past five years against those who saw the potential to make a quick buck off stupid lawyers by selling them a lie. Knowing how few had a clue what was happening online, they promoted the idea that it was a magical secret marketing place where all the paying clients were going to find lawyers, shell out big bucks and make them fabulously wealthy. 

At the same time, business in general stunk and lawyers, tired of waiting for the phone to ring, wondered where their next case was coming from.  To the internet!  With all these marketers screaming about the money, the connections, the engagement happening, how could they continue to ignore it?  And step by step, lawyer by lawyer, the lie grew.

The failure of the concept would have been fairly obvious to anyone who gave it much thought.  But when things are going poorly, and the shine of new technology blinds one’s vision, putting much thought into it is a waste of time. If so many people say there’s money to be, there must be. There just must be.

Twitterers craft brief bios about themselves, touting their practice, their success and their high esteem. They think someone is going to retain them because of their twitter bio. Their marketer told them so. And so they follow 500 other twitterers and have 7 followers in return. Who wants to “engage” with someone whose bio says they are desperately seeking business? Their twits are promotional or worthless. No one needs you to be the 319th person to retwit a news story that has already been spread by people with thousands of followers. Don’t you get how this works at all?

The simple answer is that they don’t get it. They won’t make friends. They won’t get business. They’re just embarrassing themselves, all because they came here to market and followed the instructions of their marketer.  And once you’ve firmly established yourself as sleazeball, there’s no going back.

The same is happening with blogging, supposedly the way to establish credibility and expertise. Because we need another post about “what to do when you’re stopped for DUI.”  The last ten thousand aren’t enough, right?  But the marketer has a formula, and promises if you just follow the formula, riches are yours for the taking.  You don’t think about the 100,000 lawyers who followed the formula before you, and that they never found those riches. Or to the extent the formula ever worked, it has long since been maxed out. Sorry, but the train left the station a long time ago.

Years ago, in speaking to an audience of lawyers about social media, I said anybody can blog, but everybody cannot. Maybe it’s because your writing stinks. Maybe it’s because you don”t have the chops to keep it up. Maybe you’re not as smart as you think. Maybe it’s because you’re a bore and nobody will want to read what you write. Maybe it’s because nobody needs 100,000 blogs writing about the same crap. You may be able to keep atop ten blogs a day. Maybe 100. A thousand? Forget it. Nobody has that much time, and there aren’t a thousand worth bothering with anyway.

But the marketers tell you to start a blog and fill in the blank space. They tell you that your ideas are wonderful, even though they’re not. Even so, you run out of steam. Writing is hard work. Thinking is harder still. You can’t pull it off.

And so, when the emails come offering to provide guest posts to fill in the blank space on your blog, you seize the opportunity. Crap? Perhaps, but no worse than the empty shell of thought that you come up with on your own.  And really, isn’t the point just to scam google into putting you on page one when people search for a lawyer in Peoria? Any crap will do, as long as it’s new crap, to game the SEO gods. Just do it, the marketers tell you. You must post something new, no matter how empty your personal tank may be.

And you get to be like Bitter Lawyer, trying desperately to make a joke of getting caught empty-handed.  Or The Mac Lawyer, an effort that never had legs to begin with, gasping for breath with a link back to Baby Changing Stations.  No, I didn’t make that up. That’s what it says. That’s how low, how absurd, it gets.  And when you do, one of the handful of  real blawgers will ridicule you for being disgraceful. And your marketing strategy will result in your abject humiliation, and you will wonder how it all went so terribly wrong.

Instead of being a self-proclaimed hero on the internet, you will destroy yourself, ruin your reputation and, worst of all, make no money.

No one publishes guest post garbage unless they’ve run out of anything else to say. They’re dead. They’re empty. They’ve got nothing else to say. The only option left is to leave the space intentionally blank. For the most part, they never had anything to say. It was just crap to begin with, and even that’s run dry.

But you, lawyer new to the internet, won’t find any of this out until you’ve posted your twitter bio proclaiming how special you are compared to the 10,000 other lawyers whose bio says the same thing as yours, whose website proclaims how you’re experienced, caring and aggressive, using stock photos  your marketer dug up for his last 50 blogs.

You won’t read Turkewitz’s admonition, outsource your marketing and you outsource your ethics, until it’s too late. And me, what could I possibly know? I give this away for free. What a loser I must be, having a blawg that makes no money. Why would anybody do that? I must be nuts.

You won’t get rich marketing on the internet. At best, you will fade into obscurity after pissing away a few grand to some jerk whose last real job was assistant manager at Dairy Queen. At worst, you will humiliate yourself and show up in google as a disgraced lawyer for all eternity.  Not even baby changing stations will want anything to do with you.  But you won’t know this until it’s too late.

And as you embarrass yourself, you bring all of us into disrepute, which is why I try so hard to stop you. But your marketer doesn’t care as long as he’s paid. And you don’t care as long as you believe it will make you a buck.  We would all do better to just leave the page intentionally blank. At least you won’t humiliate yourself or disgrace the profession. But you won’t know this until it’s too late.


The Upper West Side Isn’t Flat

Life on wheels can’t be fun.  Not cool wheels, but a chair, without which you go nowhere.  And it’s hardly too much to ask that when a structure open to the public, inviting the public to enter, is built, it be capable of accommodating those people who depend on wheels.  Not your issue? It would be if your legs didn’t work right, and it’s not outside the realm of possibility that your legs, or your kids’ legs, might not always move as well as they do now.

But what of structures from the old days? 

The Upper West Side of Manhattan is a thing of beauty, built of brownstones and tenements, and famous for generations of kids playing the quintessential New York game, stoop ball. I love old buildings. I love their look, their feel, the handmade bits of brass hardware that requires polishing to bring its richness to the surface. It’s New York’s history, and a reminder that there was once a time when people took pride in their design and craft. 

Brownstones are not, however, good for wheels.  Stoops are a problem, as each step is barrier that a wheelchair can’t surmount. At least not on its own.  From the New York Post :



Wheelchair-riding Linda Slone, 64, is suing 39 shops in her neighborhood for not being handicapped-accessible.


The legal crusade is netting her thousands, but Slone, who cannot walk because of polio, insists she is simply championing the rights of the disabled.


“If you think this is a money-making scheme, you’re dead wrong,” said Slone, a speech pathologist. “I, along with anybody else with a disability, has the right to go wherever they choose to go and not have to be dissuaded or inconvenienced or even apologetic.”

Whether or not this is fully accurate, and her motives aren’t quite as pure as she says, doesn’t matter. Her point, that the law entitles her to access in her chair without the “inconvenience” of having to ask for assistance, and provides for damages if she can’t.



Last month alone, Slone filed papers against eight shops on or near Columbus Avenue, aiming to force them to install ramps and other accessible features.


In each suit, all filed in Manhattan federal court, she demands $500 in damages, plus lawyers’ and experts’ fees, which could run up to $15,000.

The problem isn’t that Stone is doing as the law allows, but that the law would require shop keepers and store owners to do what the nature of the Upper West Side precludes.  Whether the indignity of requiring a disabled person to ask for help to enter a store that any able-legged person can enter is great enough to warrant relief is a question that I decline to answer. I have working legs, and thus am not qualified to decide how much indignity another person should rightfully endure.

But I also have two eyes, and can see what this means for the Upper West Side, or any neighborhood built before the time when consideration for disabilities came onto the radar.  It can’t be done.  At least not without such monumental bastardization of what exists as to destroy the beauty, the integrity, even the function of the buildings that line the broad avenues and narrow streets. 

While I can well appreciate the good intentions in trying to make the world available to people with disabilities, to put an end to their second-class citizenship where they must beg for aid to do the things that others do without the slightest thought, it’s far harder to abide the death of everything that existed before.  The only solution to Stone’s issue is the destruction of the Upper West Side, the razing of every structure that defiles access to wheels. 

That would be a tragedy.

Vonnegut’s Harrison Bergeron keeps running through my mind, the sanitization of our world to eliminate all barriers to absolute equality. 



H/T Walter Olson



Guidance; Courtesy of the Government

Unrelated in substance, two bits of guidance issued yesterday that criminal defense lawyers ought to be aware of.  First, the Department of Justice issued its long-awaited “guidance” on the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, a law that has been so lacking in cognizable parameters as to render it incapable of compliance or review.  Vague much, Congress?

But the government is here to help, and  issued its guidance. All 130 pages of guidance. Imagine how much fun it would be sharing these guidelines at parties with your friends!

Fortunately,  WSJ Lawblog’s Ashby Jones has done a bit of vetting of the verbs and provided some outtakes.



In enacting the FCPA, Congress recognized that bribes can come in many shapes and sizes—a broad range of unfair benefits—and so the statute prohibits the corrupt “offer, payment, promise to pay, or authorization of the payment of any money, or offer, gift, promise to give, or authorization of the giving of anything of value to” a foreign official.


An improper benefit can take many forms. While cases often involve payments of cash (sometimes in the guise of “consulting fees” or “commissions” given through intermediaries), others have involved travel expenses and expensive gifts. Like the domestic bribery statute, the FCPA does not contain a minimum threshold amount for corrupt gifts or payments. Indeed, what might be considered a modest payment in the United States could be a larger and much more significant amount in a foreign country.


Regardless of size, for a gift or other payment to violate the statute, the payor must have corrupt intent—that is, the intent to improperly influence the government official. [It] . . . is difficult to envision any scenario in which the provision of cups of coffee, taxi fare, or company promotional items of nominal value would ever evidence corrupt intent, and  neither DOJ nor SEC has ever pursued an investigation on the basis of such conduct. (Page 14-15)

Illuminating stuff, right? Your guy in United Arab Emirates can now buy the sheik’s nephew a cup of coffee and offer taxi fare back to the palace, just in case his Rolls Royce breaks down.  Let the senior VP from France pay for the steak tartare.

And when you pay that courtesy call on the War Lord in Somalia whose guns are trained on your people stringing fiber optic cable between the last two poles standing, you need not be left empty handed.



A small gift or token of esteem or gratitude is often an appropriate way for business people to display respect or each other. Some hallmarks of appropriate gift-giving are when the gift is given openly and transparently, properly recorded in the giver’s books and records, provided only to reflect esteem or gratitude, and permitted under local law. Items of nominal value, such as cab fare, reasonable meals and entertainment expenses, or company promotional items, are unlikely to improperly influence an official, and, as a result, are not, without more, items that have resulted in enforcement action by DOJ or SEC. (Page 15)

Just hand him a double bacon burger (double is okay, right DOJ, if it’s on the dollar menu?) and pray his people don’t spray your linemen with hollow point bullets.

But what everyone really wants to know is what triggers an FCPA prosecution, and the DOJ doesn’t disappoint, providing its 9 factors:



  • the nature and seriousness of the offense, including the risk of harm to the public;


  • the pervasiveness of wrongdoing within the corporation, including the complicity in, or the condoning of, the wrongdoing by corporate management;


  • the corporation’s history of similar misconduct, including prior criminal, civil, and regulatory enforcement actions against it;


  • the corporation’s timely and voluntary disclosure of wrongdoing and its willingness to cooperate in the investigation of its agents;


  • the existence and effectiveness of the corporation’s pre-existing compliance program;


  • the corporation’s remedial actions, including any efforts to implement an effective corporate compliance program or improve an existing one, replace responsible management, discipline or terminate wrongdoers, pay restitution, and cooperate with the relevant government agencies;


  • collateral consequences, including whether there is disproportionate harm to shareholders, pension holders, employees, and others not proven personally culpable, as well as impact on the public arising from the prosecution;


  • the adequacy of the prosecution of individuals responsible for the corporation’s malfeasance; and


  • the adequacy of remedies such as civil or regulatory enforcement actions. (Page 53)
All of which means we know absolutely nothing more than before. Well played, government. Well played.

Turning to guidance from the Seventh Circuit in the ever-perplexing restitution issues in child porn cases  stemming from “Amy,” Judge Richard Posner provides a  fascinating explanation of how to address the hundreds of cases where millions of dollars of restitution have been imposed.



But we don’t have to get deeper into the proximate cause briar patch. Before a judge gets to the issue of proximate cause, he has to determine what the defendant caused. Amy’s and Vicky’s brief misses this point in stating (a proposition not wholly true, but we’ll ignore that qualification) that “a tortfeasor cannot say he should escape liability for sinking a barge because someone else’s acts would have sunk the barge regardless.” The statement is an allusion to a discussion in W. Page Keeton et al., Prosser and Keeton on the Law of Torts § 52, p. 347 (5th ed. 1984), of a class of tort cases best illustrated by cases concerning not barges but “multiple fires of negligent origin. If each fire would have destroyed the plaintiff’s property, so that all the fires were sufficient conditions of the harm but none was a necessary condition, nevertheless the firemakers would be jointly liable whether or not they were acting in concert.” Greene v. Doruff, 660 F.3d 975, 979 (7th Cir. 2011). Otherwise there would be two wrongdoers, a harm from the wrongdoing—yet no liability.

Got that?  Barges. Fires. Briar patches. Stay with me here.
Is this such a case? Amy’s and Vicky’s brief states that “apportioning [their] harm among the numerous past, present, and future defendants is all but impossible. But all of them have contributed to Amy and Vicky’s images going ‘viral’ on the internet.” It’s an open question whether the defendant in the present case uploaded any of Amy’s and Vicky’s images to the Internet—if he didn’t, then he didn’t contribute to those images “going viral.” If we consider only his having seen those images, and imagine his being the only person to have seen them, Amy’s and Vicky’s losses would not have been as great as they were.

Lest you think this is just the needless murder of words leading nowhere (with the gratuitous smack in the head to Bryan Garner, in the last paragraph of page 14, in his capacity as editor of Black’s Law Dictionary and co-author with Justice Scalia in the curious tome, Reading Law : how not to write like Posner), Judge Posner actually answers the question eventually.


But if the defendant in this case is not responsible for the viewing of the images of Amy and Vicky by even one person besides himself, joint liability would be inappropriate. Amy and Vicky argue that psychological harm is always “indivisible.” But it isn’t. If separate fires join and burn down the house, the harm is indivisible: the house is gone, and all the firemakers are liable even though any one of the fires would have destroyed the house. And in our distribution example, the distributors may be jointly liable though again the entire harm might have occurred had there been only a single distributor. But often psychological harm can be greater or less, and it would have been less in this case if instead of tens of thousands of images of Amy’s and Vicky’s rapes being viewed on the Internet one image of each had been viewed by one person, the defendant.

Still less than clear? Boy, are you demanding.


To summarize: The defendant’s prison sentence is affirmed. The calculation of the crime victims’ losses is affirmed too, except that the judge must determine how much to subtract from Amy’s losses to reflect payments of restitution that she has received in other cases. The order of restitution is vacated and the case remanded for a redetermination of the amount of restitution owed by the defendant; that will require, besides the subtraction we just mentioned, a determination whether the defendant uploaded any of Amy’s or Vicky’s images. The defendant will not be permitted to seek contribution from other defendants convicted of crimes involving pornographic images of the two girls. And Amy and Vicky will not be permitted to intervene in the district court.

So there you are. Problem solved.  Tomorrow, guidance from the government on how to screw in a light bulb in a union courthouse.







Care Enough To Watch The Video

It’s become sadly common for criminal defense lawyers, busily puffing themselves by twitting about their days filled with exciting and remunerative work, engaged in some silly vanity program one day and starting a serious trial the next.  It makes me cringe, wondering why they weren’t spending their time preparing. 

Preparing. Another archaic concept.

In Lockport, New York, a defense lawyer found out the hard way that preparation matters when it turned out he was the only person in the room who hadn’t bothered to watch a video of his client’s interrogation.  His client was charged, along with two others, in the shooting of another human being. A serious case. Even for those lawyers who only think effort is worthy of exertion on serious cases, this one met the bar.
 
From the Buffalo News :


Meanwhile, co-defendant Paul E. Buck Jr., 23, asked for a new lawyer.

Assistant Public Defender Matthew P. Pynn said in court that Buck told him he lacked confidence in him.

A lack of confidence in one’s lawyer is a problem, though not necessarily a fatal one. Defendants may lose confidence for good reasons or bad, and courts are reluctant to replace lawyers without a sound basis. 


When presented Tuesday with Buck’s vote of no confidence in Pynn, [Judge] Murphy at first said, “I have a great deal of confidence.”

That’s the knee-jerk reaction, the judge instinctively covering up the problem to avoid delay and additional cost.  But then, the judge apparently remembered why they put him on a bench and let him wear a robe.


[Det.] Conti testified in an evidentiary hearing Oct. 2 that Buck never asked to stop the interrogation. Murphy said that was belied by a 70-minute DVD of the interview, which the judge said showed Buck asking repeatedly to leave.

Two weeks ago, Murphy asked if either attorney had actually watched the video. He said, “If I were to make a decision on this record, the defense attorney would be subject to a claim of ineffective assistance of counsel if there were a conviction.”

Oh yeah. That.


But moments later, the judge conceded, “Under the circumstances, I can see how Mr. Buck would come to that conclusion.”

It was a 70 minute video. That’s a pretty long video. It’s probably pretty boring, lacking decent production value and without any real special effects.  Even popcorn won’t save it. But it’s the video of the defendant being interrogated, and it contains the proof that Det. Conti’s testimony was, at minimum, less than forthright. But you wouldn’t know if you didn’t bother to watch the video.

Pynn didn’t watch the video. Why is a question that only he can answer. Maybe he was too busy, being a public defender and under the strain of too many defendants and too little time. Maybe he has grown jaded, uncaring about doing his job well, or maybe doing his job at all.  Maybe he had a sick child at home and, this one time, screwed up. Without knowing what’s inside his head, it’s impossible to say.

But it doesn’t matter.  Public defender or not, he undertook the duty to defend a man, and he blew it. Blew it completely. Blew it embarrassingly, disgracefully.  Paul Buck is a human being too, and he just happens to be a defendant in a criminal prosecution.  He is entitled to competent counsel, even if counsel can’t be bothered. That was Pynn’s responsibility, no matter how you twist it.

Did he feel humiliated when he was called out in court for his abject failure?  Did he even blush when it was revealed that he hadn’t done the minimal work of watching the video of the interrogation? I hope so, but there’s nothing to suggest he even blinked.

Nor should Judge Murphy feel all that proud of his revelation, having moments before expressed his personal “confidence,” nothing more than knee-jerk administrative inertia at the expense of a defendant.  As guardian of a defendant’s constitutional rights, this was hardly the judge’s shining moment either.  A moment’s lapse and he might have forgotten that defense counsel completely failed to do the minimum demanded of him. It was too close for comfort.

So you want to impress your friends and twitter followers with all the important things you do every day?  Where in your days of running from courtroom to courtroom, giving self-aggrandizing speeches and offering witty quotes to the media do you fit in the time to watch a 70 minute video that’s critical to the defense of your client?  With all your very important cases, where do you find the time to do your research, to write and edit your memoranda, to visit the crime scene and meet with witnesses?

What seems to never appear in your self-promotion is the mundane work of being a lawyer, the preparation.  It’s not sexy.  It’s not impressive. But its absence in your daily routine marks you as a lawyer who can’t be bothered to do his job.  If you’re starting trial next week, this week should be spent preparing.  Reading the papers again and again. Watching the video if you’re fortunate enough to have one to watch.  Knowing every inch of the crime scene and every word a witness will utter.

And if you can’t be bothered to do your job as a criminal defense lawyer, then you too deserve to be humiliated in a courtroom for having blown it.  As much as we may blame the police, the prosecutor or the judge for the “injustice” of our not getting our way, the criminal defense lawyer’s duty is as fundamental as it comes. When we fail to do the job, we are the pre-eminent cause of whatever injustice befalls our clients.

And no, you aren’t impressing anyone by touting all your fabulous cases when the one thing that can’t be missed is your abject failure to prepare.  It’s noticed. It’s a disgrace. That’s the message you send about yourself, that you’re all show pony and no lawyer. It’s hard work being a lawyer and defending the accused, and what comes across clearly is that you aren’t doing the work.  Not so impressive now, is it?

H/T Our hinterlands correspondent, Kathleen Casey



When Biglaw Came Calling

It likely comes as a surprise to those who think old lawyers are just mean-spirited and unhelpful to younger lawyers who come for validation of their wants and desires, but I get a fairly regular stream of lawyers calling for advice.  Even though they know there is a risk they won’t get the answer they want, they still call. And I do my best to be honest and helpful, even when I know it’s not what they want to hear.

But it’s not that often that I get a call from a lawyer who has been in the game more than ten, fifteen years, so when Brian Tannebaum told me he had a serious question, I figured he meant it.  I settled into my chair and listened.

Brian has a great practice.  A mix of state and federal criminal work. A mix of criminal defense and bar disciplinary cases. A reputation of skill and effort, for which he’s well respected.  He does well, even if he suffers the same ups and downs that every small or solo practice endures. Revenues can be spotty, and hot months are followed by cold months, always wondering if the month after will be hot again. That’s solo life.

The dilemma Brian faced was one that a great many lawyers would love.  A biglaw firm wanted him.  What should he do. 

He left the question hanging.  He didn’t give me any further indication of why he was asking me, whether he just wanted a sounding board or whether there was something I could bring to his thought process that might not be on his radar.  I decided that the best I could offer was the perspective of an older lawyer, one who could only see 18 years of practice in the rearview mirror.

There was a time, way back when, that a call came in asking whether I would be interested in hooking up with a law firm.  At the time, I was still climbing the mountain, enjoying the struggle to see what could be accomplished and looking forward to the bright lights ahead of me.  Midlife still seemed far away, and the future was mine for the taking.  I had already tried a bit of law firm life, and it was unpleasant, to say the least. 

Having my choices, my decisions, subject to other people’s approval felt like a lead weight on my back.  Dealing with personality conflicts, whining, complaining, jockeying for position, wasn’t my idea of practicing law. Who needed to deal with all that crap, when fighting it out in court was where all the fun was?  And there was no more money for doing so.

Sure, the revenues evened out better with more lawyers, as each brought in cases at different times, and one lawyer’s low month was another’s high.  But at the end of the year, it was pretty much even, and all the aggravation that went with managing people was a burden for which there was no reward.

Some of my friends also got the call, and went with it.  Today, they sit in corner offices down the end of long hallways.  Some haven’t seen a courtroom in years.  They manage. They advise. They send young soldiers off to war and pray they come back unharmed.

Some still try to get into the courtroom as much as possible, hoping to feel that burst of adrenalin when they’re offered the opportunity to give the jury an opening statement.  But they have to get back to the office for conference calls, feeling their blood pressure level off and their butt flatten.

At 40, the idea of sitting on conference calls and listening to associates whine about assignments is like death.  The bright light fades to a fuzzy glow; you know it will always be there but it will never be bright again.  From there, it’s just waiting until the last meeting when they hand you the gold watch and carry the box of your life to the waiting car.

At 50, however, it looks a little different.  This was the perspective I could offer Brian that he wouldn’t be able to see on his own.  The thrill somehow disappeared one morning, as you wake up and find parts of your body hurting that never hurt before.  You’ve done enough openings. Closings. Crosses. More importantly, you hear yourself explaining things to potential clients that you’ve said too many times before.  The novelties of youth have grown old.  It’s not that you don’t want a challenge, but that you reached the peak of the mountain.  That was it. The rest of the time would be standing there.

I told Brian that the great moments of solo practice would lose some of their luster soon.  Not that a “not guilty” verdict wouldn’t thrill him, but that the thrill wouldn’t last much past the next day.  I told him that hanging out in bars and restaurants with clients until the wee hours of the morning would give way to wishing you were in bed by 10 because you’re exhausted.

The thrill of scoring the next big case diminishes, while the knowledge that there will be a check every other week becomes comforting. A couple of kids in college, the cost of maintaining the big house and a few cars hangs over you.  Where before you felt compelled to accumulate the things that bring you pleasure, you begin to wonder why you need all this stuff, and what you’re going to do with it.  You begin to feel as if it owns you rather than the other way around.  And big kids need big things. And eat a lot more than little babies.

But when this realization hits, that there is virtue in stability and a slower pace, a funny thing happens.  You’re no longer the up and coming young buck with a proven track record and a glorious future. You’re a fixture, a known quantity that’s hit his stride. You’re too expensive for the investment, and can’t promise enough good years left  to guarantee that a significant investment will pay off. 

I told Brian that when he reaches my age, there won’t be a call from Biglaw asking him to come aboard.  His opportunity to make the change is now. 

I neither advised him to take the job or pass. I tried to give him a flavor of what the future might look like so he could make his decision with an understanding that you don’t stay 40 forever, and that life brings changes in perspective and concern.  No one told me that when I was younger.  I passed on a few opportunities, firms, bench and teaching, that had little luster at the time but are far more attractive today. It’s not to say that I made the wrong choice, but that I made a choice without a clear appreciation of how life looks after the bright light fades.

Brian turned down the offer.  Whether he made the right choice for him won’t be known for another decade or two. I hope my thoughts helped him to decide. 

Chicago “Code of Silence” Verdict: Guilty!!! (Update: Police Reaction, Update 2: Money Talks, Update 3: The Judge Refuses To Play)

A verdict was returned in the trial of bartender Karolina Obrycka, beaten by off-duty drunken Chicago cop, Anthony Abbate, and the police culture that covers up criminal conduct by cops, the “Code of Silence.” The jury found against the Code of Silence, awarding Obrycka $850,000..



Her attorney, Terry Ekl, heralded the verdict as a landmark, precedent-setting decision.


“We proved the code of silence at every level of the Chicago Police Department,” from the first officers who responded to the beating to then-Chief Phil Cline, Ekl said after the verdict, adding that the jury’s award is more than twice the $400,000 he offered to settle the case for before trial. He noted the ultimate cost to the city will be far higher once he and his team collect their attorney’s fees.

Coupled with  Chicago’s admission that its non-police personnel didn’t know that they, like those who don’t feed off the public till, are supposed to abide by the law, and the  California verdict premised on ten cops falsely denying any memory in the case of cuffing Allen Harris, it’s beginning to appear that people have had enough police and public officials causing harm and believing themselves to be above the law.

Obviously, as this was a civil case for damages against the city, the jury’s verdict wasn’t “guilty,” but rather a finding that the blue wall existed and provided the foundation for a cop like Abbate to believe that no matter what he did, how to harmed this young woman, he could do so with impunity and his brethren would cover up for him.  Absent the machinations of police to conceal and silence the witnesses against him, the City of Chicago would have no liability for his conduct, it then being merely another vicious drunken cop beating a woman.

The city, naturally, is shocked.



After the verdict, [Mayor Rahm] Emanuel’s spokeswoman, Sarah Hamilton, said in a statement that the mayor is confident that the superintendent he selected, Garry McCarthy, and his leadership team “would not approve of, let alone participate in a code of silence.”

Whether Sarah Hamilton is one of the spokespeople who misunderstood the policy that they, too, were obliged to comply with the law isn’t mentioned.  Nonetheless, the City’s knee-jerk pretense that the worst kept secret of police culture wouldn’t be “approved of” in Chicago stands in contrast to the City’s lawyer’s reaction:



At the same time, the city’s law department issued a statement that the city strongly disagreed with the verdict and all but promised an appeal.

Never happened. We’re the good guys, and there’s no such thing as the Code of Silence.  Except the evidence proved otherwise.



During the civil trial, Obrycka’s attorneys alleged that police sought to downplay and cover up the beating, in part out of an ingrained but shadowy culture among police of protecting their own. They said that culture created an environment that led to the beating.

The question really isn’t whether the Blue Wall exists, or cops lie on the witness stand. Few would make such an assertion with a straight face, and certainly no one knowledgeable who was being honest.  What distinguishes this trial, particularly in light of the other recent events, is that such gross impropriety lingered just below the surface, sufficiently deniable that jurors, citizens, could pretend that it didn’t exist, pretend that there was no police culture that, when things got bad, covered up heinous conduct to protect cops from the consequences of their actions.

In other words, maybe it’s become too real, too pervasive, for people to ignore.  And if the citizenry can’t ignore it anymore, perhaps that’s the beginning of a cultural shift in government that politicians can’t ignore it anymore.  Maybe people have just had enough of people being harmed by cops. Maybe they’ve had enough of cops covering each other’s crimes.

Of course, this isn’t exactly a new concept, that the Code of Silence exists, or that police lie to cover up the crimes of their brethren.  Scandals erupt, and apologists passionately mouth the one bad apple, isolated incident excuse. A commission is formed, recommendations of everyone behaving themselves from now on are issued, and life returns to the same way it’s always been.  Until the next scandal for the same thing, because the disease remained  and the bandaid fell off.

Yet, the confluence of important verdicts, forcing at least aware members of the public to confront the fact that these things happen, may reflect a willingness on the part of the public to demand that their elected officials deal with it. Perhaps the pervasiveness of video, watching their hero cops beating defenseless people, has rended the fabric of deniability that we’ve used to hide behind and pretend it wasn’t too bad. 

Whether this verdict will be part of a new wave of recognition by the public that police misconduct, abuse, lying and concealing has got to stop has yet to be seen.  But it surely won’t hurt the cause, and may well cause some to reach the only possible conclusion. The Code of Silence must come to an end.

Update:  A post is up on this verdict at PoliceOne. Very interestingly, there are only two comments (always the most interesting thing there) as of yet.  The first comment:












Posted by Smeared1 on Wednesday, November 14, 2012 06:39 AM Pacific  Report Abuse





“The question now becomes, `What are they going to do about it?'” he said. “If there’s going to be change, it has to come from the mayor’s office.”

No, Mr. Dumbass Attorney, the Mayors Office can’t make them do a damn thing! What would the order be? Don’t keep a secret….kind of tough to prove if it’s kept isnt it? Your client looks like a run of mill skank.

Protect and serve, at its best.  The second comment, however, brings a bit of hope.












Posted by smmerbreeze on Wednesday, November 14, 2012 06:58 AM Pacific  Report Abuse





Regardless of what she may “look like” smeared, she didn’t deserve to get her ass kicked. He beats her and you insult her? Classy.
Not exactly a ringing endorsement for the death of the code of silence, but at least he demonstrates some degree of humanity.

Update 2:  Rather than risk an affirmance on appeal, Chicago has agreed to pay $850,000 to make this disappear.  Rather than risk a reversal on appeal, the deal was accepted.  And to make this all happen, both sides have asked the court to perform some judicial magic and nunc pro tunc the verdict into oblivion, as if it never happened.  Money talks.

Update 3:  Despite both parties seeking to vacate the judgment,  the court refused to do so, noting that the verdict, thought not precedent, had social value and would not be made to disappear.

Chicago’s New Policy Is Follow The Law

At the Agitator, Radley Balko writes about how Chicago city spokespeople  recorded interviews with journalists without their knowledge or consent.  While that alone wouldn’t likely cause anyone to lose sleep, the point is that this is a crime under Illinois law for which Chicago police have  shown no reluctance to arrest and prosecute people when it comes to recording their antics.  When done by government workers, not so much.

If you work for the government and you violate a the law in order to record journalists who cover the government, you get a gentle “reminder.” If you’re someone like Michael Allison, Tiawanda Moore, or Christopher Drew and you violate a bad law in order to expose government abuse, you get arrested, cuffed, jailed, and charged with felonies.

But what’s a double standard among friends, right?  In the course of the city’s attempt to rationalize away the “mistake” made by their people, however, this came out:



While City Hall acknowledged the two improper September recordings, it insisted they were mistakes.


“What we have told city employees is that our position is that you follow the law,” City Law Department spokesman Roderick Drew said Friday. “And when this issue was brought to the city’s attention, we reminded employees to continue following the law.”


Follow the law? Continue to follow the law?  Rahm Emanuel’s got some ‘splainin’ to do.

In order to “continue” to follow the law, one would have to follow it in the first place.  That anyone in government would utter the words that their position is to follow the law raises a shocking question: was this really in doubt?

The issue raised by the need for such an admonition is fundamentally disturbing. What could possibly give rise to a belief by anyone serving in a governmental capacity that they are entitled to ignore the law? 

Obviously, police understand as a practical matter that they can largely do as they please, since who will arrest them for blowing through a red light to get to the donut shop?  But even the dopiest flatfoot knows he’s not supposed to do it. It’s just a perk of the job, like free coffee and tossing black youths.

But the mayor’s spokesmen are supposed to appreciate that they don’t get to violate the law at will, even if the law is asinine.  And yet, a Law Department spokesman had to tell them otherwise? 

Radley’s point, that the same conduct that resulted in citizens being arrested, cuffed and prosecuted is trivialized as a mere “mistake” when conducted by people who enjoy a Chicago paycheck, feeds anger and cynicism.  And it should.  This is what distinguishes public servants from overlords, and a government that openly shrugs off crime by its own people while prosecuting its citizens forfeits its legitimacy.

At the very least, however, the City of Chicago should demonstrate sufficient shame to admit that its people deliberately broke the law rather than merely were confused as to its official policy of whether they had to follow the law at all.

The only thing that would make this worse is acknowledgement by the citizenry of Chicago that they can understand this “mistake,” as if public employees following the law was a toss-up question.  It’s not. It never was. It can never be.  And yet, it was necessary to make this clear, because city employees maybe thought they didn’t have to follow the law.

If anybody wonders why there are a lot of people who aren’t as trusting of government as the platitudes suggest they should be, this might give them a clue.  Or maybe nothing will give them a clue.






Jury Sends Message to LA Cops: Stop Hurting People

As much as people assume that there will be punishment of some sort down the road for abusive or lying cops, the reality is that little, if anything, happens except in the most extreme cases. The dreams of huge jury awards for violations of civil rights don’t pan out. It’s far more likely that a case will be dismissed on summary judgment than the victim will get enough money to buy a mocha frappucino.  But not always.

At the trial of Allen Harris’ claim against Police Officer Alex Tellez, not only did the jury award the plaintiff $1.6 million for injuries suffered (note, not for rights violated, but physical injury), but they levied a $90,000 award against Tellez personally.  From the LA Times :



Allen Harris, 56, was awarded nearly $1.6 million Wednesday in Los Angeles County Superior Court for his injuries, marking the latest in a long string of seven-figure verdicts against the Los Angeles Police Department for officer misconduct.


On Thursday, the jury returned to court and took the somewhat unusual step of ordering the accused officer, Alex Tellez, to pay an additional $90,000 himself after finding “clear and convincing evidence” he acted maliciously toward Harris, according to court records.

One of the foremost issues that angered the jury was the testimony of ten cops, each of whom couldn’t remember much of anything.



All of the officers testified that they did not know who had handcuffed Harris, according to both juror Gayle Chavkin and Harris’ attorney. The officers also claimed under oath that Harris, a stroke victim who walks with a pronounced limp, showed no signs of being disabled during the encounter, the attorney and juror said.


“It was the same testimony over and over and over: ‘I don’t recall. I don’t recall,’ ” Chavkin said. “They were clearly just closing ranks…. It felt untruthful to us. Somebody matching Officer Tellez’s description handcuffed Mr. Harris that day and hurt him.”

Perhaps the message is getting through to jurors, that rather than look away when cops are conveniently less than forthright on the stand, they need to be held as accountable, if not more, for facile perjury?

The background to the incident is, sadly, typical, a raid that yielded nothing except indignity and injury to an innocent man.


The verdict stems from a November 2009 case in which the LAPD was investigating an armed robbery of a store where one of Harris’ sons worked. The son was a suspect in the crime, and the detective investigating the case obtained a warrant to search the Inglewood apartment Harris shared with his son.

When officers serving the warrant knocked on the apartment door early Nov. 10, the son answered and was quickly taken into custody, Harris and his attorney, V. James DeSimone, said in an interview. Officers then entered the apartment and ordered Harris to put his hands up, turn around and walk backward toward the officers, Harris said.


Harris put his right arm up and told the officers repeatedly that he was unable to follow their commands because of his disability, he said. Ignoring his pleas, an officer Harris later identified as Tellez clamped a cuff around his left wrist, pulled him out of the apartment and forced both his arms behind his back to fully handcuff him.

Nothing was found and Harris’ son was never charged. That, of course, doesn’t mean that the police would treat Harris, a step removed from the potential criminal, as a threat to their safety and, exercising the First Rule of Policing, make certain that he was both incapacitated and cowed by their might. Nothing makes that clearer than some needless pain inflicted on a disabled stroke victim whose condition couldn’t tolerate their physical demands.

But who really cares? When it comes to raiding homes and asserting absolute control over someone, collateral damage is sure to follow. That’s the price of LA freedom.

That the jury was sufficiently outraged by the police attempt to conceal who harmed Harris by circling the blue wagons and professing ignorance reflects an interesting potential shift in public perception.  How rare is it that the public, who comprise juries, simply refuses to accept that the police lie on the witness stand?  While this jury may not have gone quite that far, they went far enough to conclude that the ten cops who couldn’t recall anything weren’t being truthful. That’s pretty good.

And from that starting point, accepting the plaintiff’s contention that Tellez was the cop who needlessly clamped on cuffs so tight as to cause Harris nerve damage, the jury reached a second conclusion: that he did so maliciously.  Despite Harris (and remembering that he was not the target of the warrant, but merely the target’s father) plea to the cops that he was disabled and couldn’t physically comply with their demands, the officer imposed his will on him anyway.



In ordering Tellez to pay the $90,000 in punitive damages, Chavkin said jurors felt “we needed to send a message that this is not right — don’t ever do this again. We felt there needed to be a consequence for him disregarding Mr. Harris’ pleas.”

While the award will no doubt be appealed, and it’s dubious whether a punitive damages award will be sustained, and even if it is, whether it will be held against the officer rather than paid by the government, it remains an important message to cops.  Don’t inflict needless harm for fun. Just don’t harm someone for no reason.

Then again, it’s one jury and one award.  Hopefully, the thought of a $90 grand hit will echo through the ranks of LAPD, giving pause to officers who have a choice to make when they can either do their job or do needless harm.  Or the union will rail against how crazy juries like this put cops’ life at risk by making them hesitate before needlessly harming innocent people. 

While I hope this verdict reflects something larger than a one-off jury disinclined to embrace police testimony and concerned that a man not be needlessly harmed, it may well be nothing more than that, or a left coast jury that fails to reflect the sensibilities that good Americans elsewhere maintain.  To the extent this post reflects ambivalence, or perhaps smells a bit aspirational, it’s because I remain doubtful that people are coming to any meaingful realization about police culture and misconduct. I want it to happen, but that doesn’t mean it will.