A National Conversation, But About What? (Fox News Update)

Following the  Pike pepper spraying of UC Davis students for violently sitting and adamantly refusing to ask “how high,” Brian Tannebaum writes that it’s time for a national conversation about law enforcement.


It’s almost a daily exercise, watching video of law enforcement conduct that raises eyebrows. The responses are always the same: 1) The video doesn’t tell the entire story, 2) We don’t understand the “adrenaline” that causes police officers to beat the living crap out of suspects after they are securely in custody, and 3) So what, the guy’s a criminal anyway.

We as criminal defense lawyers, civil libertarians, and yes, even some prosecutors and judges, watch these videos and know that there is a large segment of the country that finds this conduct just “part of the job.”

After some quotes from Alexis Madrigal at the Atlantic, which provides some historical context to police use of force to quell political protest, but also shifts blame from the individual cops who pull the trigger to the amorphous “them,” thus making no individual personally responsible for his actions, Tannebaum goes on to say:


It’s time to have a real conversation about this. It’s time for the media, government, civic and business leaders, and law enforcement, to sit down and talk about this.

Things need to change.

Now.

Fair enough.  Let’s turn the floor over the Ken Lammers, former criminal defense lawyer turned prosecutor, seduced by the money and prestige of being a Virginia Deputy Commonwealth Attorney.  If anybody on the other side is going to give this a fair shake, it’s Ken.  So what’s Lammers’ view?


Yawn,

Is that it? Well, no. There’s more.


Here’s the tactic: Find a public location which you know police will be forced to clear, make sure others are around to take pictures/video, interlock in a way to make it very difficult for police to move you, and wait.

It works. There is absolutely no way for the police to look good when they clear the area as they have been ordered to. Tons of videos show up on the internet.

Police are being ordered to clean out the various “Occupy” camps. Nothing too surprising there. Those among the “Occupy”ers who are dedicated or professional protesters or among the group of people who look at it as a right of passage to get arrested by the police while in college have resisted. Nothing surprising there. Videos are all over the internet and news.

So if Pike wasn’t willing to spray them on his own, they would have to find some cop on the take and pay him off for a quick and dirty pepper spray, to make their radical bones?  Otherwise, they won’t let them go to the anarchist’s ball?


In the end, the police cleared the sidewalk and the protesters got their moment of glory for standing up to the cops. They also got something to put out there to justify themselves.

So this was really a win-win?  Cynical much? But Ken’s reaction to what happened at UC Davis is that it wasn’t a problem at all but rather part of a pre-scripted melodrama where all the players performed their roles.  What’s to discuss?

Mark Bennett has also offered his thoughts to the conversation.  While noting Madrigal’s point, that this isn’t only about Lt. John Pike (who has since been rewarded with a leisurely paid vacation), but we can’t ignore that it takes a finger on the trigger to make the pepper shoot out of the can.

The idea is symmetry itself. These officers are men and women who were to serve and protect the people. By attacking peaceful protesters they failed to protect those who needed their protection, and they instead served the political class by using violence against the people.


The people are insecure: they cannot trust the police because the police have shown themselves to be the enemy. That the people can’t fight injury with injury (the police are better-armed, and pepper-spraying a cop is likely a felony) does not mean that the people can’t fight back.


He suggests that every day, for the rest of his life, Pike should worry about whether a waiter spit in his food, or whether the guy who collects his garbage will forget to stop at his house. Again.  The battle need not be fought with violence, but with fear that the basic conveniences of life may never be his again.


The idea of sabotage can be as crippling as physical sabotage. I remember reading once of a saboteur who left empty sugar bags on the ground near the open gas caps of his adversary’s vehicles. He hadn’t added sugar to the gas, but the idea that he had forced his adversary take the vehicles out of service. Not every waiter need spit in UC-Davis police officers’ food. Not every check they send need be “lost in the mail.” But these officers should be forced forever to wonder what, out of the million things that anonymous people can make go wrong, will go wrong for them next.

He’s a devious fellow, that Bennett.  Let’s contrast him with the equally, maybe even more, devious Bill Otis at Crime and Consequences.


<sounds of crickets chirping, image of tumbleweeds blowing through deserted town>

While tough on crime thinkers like Kurt Scheidegger has crafter his very own Nancy Grace-esque name for the occupy protestors, which he calls the Collective Tantrum, Bill and Kurt were apparently too busy thinking about more important things to notice this happened.

Because I’m a generally fair sort of fellow, I gave some room to UC Davis Police Chief Annette Spicuzza’s explanation of events, which was followed by my explanation of why she was wrong. It’s not just me who says that it’s wrong to use force when there’s no threat of harm, but (thanks to Bennett’s commenter Mike Parr) the  9th Circuit Court of Appeals as well.


Because the officers had control over the protestors it would have been clear to any reasonable officer that it was unnecessary to use pepper spray to bring them under control, and even less necessary to repeatedly use pepper spray against the protestors when they refused to release from the “black bears.” It also would have been clear to any reasonable officer that the manner in which the officers used the pepper spray was unreasonable.   Lewis and Philip “authorized full spray blasts of [pepper spray], not just Q-tip applications,” despite the fact that the manufacturer’s label on the canisters of pepper spray defendants used “ ‘expressly discouraged’ spraying [pepper spray] from distances of less than three feet.”

The problem with having a national conversation is that we all need to be talking about the same thing.  Some of us want to talk about cops using force to harm people instead of serving and protecting, while others want to talk about why we just can’t follow orders.  And others just don’t want to talk at all, because their team has the weapons.

Of course, John Pike will never be certain, as his waiter brings him his big, greasy burger, what’s in that special sauce.  Maybe then he’ll want to talk about it.

Update: Via Balko/Gawker, here’s Fox News’ contribution to the national conversation.


“I don’t think we have the right to Monday-morning quarterback the police,” O’Reilly says, “particularly at a place like UC Davis, which is a fairly liberal campus.” God forbid! We’d never want to question Lt. John Pike’s decision to generously and indifferently dust peacefully sitting protesters with pepper spray from only a few feet away. Especially given that Davis is, you know, a liberal campus! And, gosh, even if we were going to Monday-morning quarterback the police, shouldn’t we remember, as Megyn Kelly tells O’Reilly, that pepper spray is “a food product, essentially”?

Tasty. Who doesn’t appreciate some fresh pepper on their Caesar salad?  If only someone would develop a parmesan and anchovie spray.

The Turow Amendment

Scott Turow writes great stories, and is now trying his hand at constitutional amendments.  From Bloomberg News, Turow suggests the #Occupy Wall Street movement turn its energies toward an “intelligible goal.”




Let me connect the dots. The heart of the protests is a lament about widening income inequality in the U.S., brought about, in part, by a government that seems to favor disproportionately wealthy interests. The Occupiers have focused their outrage on the bailout of banks that reaped huge profits on mortgage-backed securities and are now profitable again, while millions of homeowners have been foreclosed upon or lost their jobs.


The best antidote to this imbalance of income and influence would be to greatly reduce the role of private funding in our elections. Nothing is more empowering to the well-heeled — corporations, unions, lobbyists, political-action committees, trade associations and bundlers — than our political leaders’ need to come to them hat in hand for the money to get elected.


While this might, at first glance, seem little more than another attack on the dreaded Citizens United decision, that equated free speech for corporate spending, it goes well beyond that.  It’s an attack on money itself, the Buckly v. Valeo holding that by contributing to political campaign is how speech is put into action.  The problem, of course, is that the people with the money, and the will to spend it, are the ones politicians hear.




In recent polling, for example, almost three-quarters of Americans favored raising taxes on millionaires. Yet any such proposal has been consistently blocked in Congress, despite the overwhelming popular support for the idea.



Unfortunately, nothing less than a constitutional amendment is likely to reverse the situation. For now, the court’s conservative majority is firmly entrenched. And even were the court to become more moderate, with the replacement of one of the conservative justices, the principle of stare decisis, of respect for prior decisions, would mean that any effort to erase the damage done since Buckley would necessarily be incremental.


Turow argues that the only way to change cash and carry politics is to amend the Constitution to regulate it.



Meanwhile, those in tents across the nation should start going door to door with petitions, visiting legislators and building alliances with good-government groups, all in service to a proposed amendment that might read something like this: “The Congress and the States shall regulate the direct and indirect expenditure of private funds on the electoral process in order to ensure that no group, entity or individual exercises unequal influence on an election by those means.”

Of course, the notion that we, meaning each of us individually or as we circle the wagons with our respective interest group(s), actually wants equal influence on an election.  We all want unequal influence, just our own being predominant.  

I stumbling upon Turow’s commentary via Ann Althouse, who always manages to find a facile characterization that suits the attention span of her audience, headlining it “Scott Turow advocates amending the Constitution to restrict free speech.”  This, of course, returns us to the question of Buckley (and obliquely, Citizens United) of whether money is speech.

If you’re of the school that it is, then sure, Turow wants to take away your ability to speak louder than poorer and cheaper people.  No reason to question whether the supporters of the alternative think that corporation cash is supporting positions that inure to their benefit. They think so, as they suck down a tall one and thank the Lord that corporations exist to protect them from evil.

Putting aside the language proposed by Turow, the gist of his proposal appears to be good, old campaign contribution limits, so no rich guys get to buy more influence then the 99%.  Does this solve the problem?  Not likely, as Turow himself notes that candidates spend a ton of money on campaigning, and it’s got to come from somewhere.

This creates an appetite for political money that naturally can be best fed by the rich. Only 0.5 percent of Americans contributed $200 or more during the last general election cycle. Their generosity made up 82 percent of itemized contributions.

If we all cared that much, it wouldn’t seem to break the bank for most of us to put $200 into the pot.  The fact is that most people choose not to contribute. Not $200. Not $20.  So the real gripe isn’t that the 1% are so filthy rich that they can outspend us, but that they spend at all whereas we don’t want to put a dime up on our own behalf.

It’s no huge stretch to say that Turow’s proposal has absolutely no chance of happening, and indeed, it smacks of restricting free speech when the idea is based on prohibiting the influence of those who care enough, whether for good or evil, to put their money where their mouth is. 

But this isn’t the end of the discussion.  It’s not that politicians enjoy sucking up to donors for cash, but that they need money to mount a campaign.  Why?  Because we’ve come to expect it, or maybe demand it, of them.  We won’t take someone seriously if they don’t have signs, campaign planes and television commercials.  We require them to put on a show and spoon feed us their agenda with fireworks in the background.

For all the nice Americans screaming to bring us back to horse and buggy days, because everything was perfect then and we had no problems at all, the notion hasn’t been applied at all to the mechanics of political campaigning.  What if a candidate said he wanted no contributions, wouldn’t be buying airtime and had no need for slick campaign commercials?  What if the candidate instead started a blog, set out his agenda (maybe with a few youtube videos for spunk), and left it to Americans to read it and decide if he was their cup of tea?

It’s not the candidates who desperately desire to pander to money.  It’s not the rich people who desperately want to give money away to candidates.  It’s us, the 99%, who create the demand.  We don’t need a constitutional amendment, but it would be a whole lot easier than adjusting our own conduct so that campaigns didn’t need to be funded by the 0.5% willing to put their money on the table.




 


Double Dip When No One’s Watching

Ever see the guy who tries to sneak his half-eaten chip into the onion dip when he thinks no one is watching? Disgusting, right?  And not just because of the sores around his mouth. At best, it’s poor form. At worst, it’s repulsive. And it’s no better when it happens in the law.


When wealthy businessman Christopher Comins tried to shut poor blogger Matthew VanVoorhis down with a SLAPP suit the first time, everybody was watching.

So what does a shooter do when he’s caught on video and properly castigated everywhere?  He sues a blogger.

Matthew Frederick VanVoorhis has a blog called Public Intellectual, where he posted about Comins’ dog-shooting.  The title is Christopher Comins: Barbarian Hillbilly Dog-Assassin (w/Friends in High places). My guess is that Comins objected to being called a Hillbilly.  I bet Hillbillies objected to being associated with Comins.

The post is harsh.  Then again, trying to murder dogs, especially when the owner is screaming to stop and you’re close enough to see the collar around their necks, deserves some harsh words.  But Comins is a businessman.  He’s got both the wherewithal and motivation to make somebody pay for his getting caught.

And sure enough, VanVoorhis’ lawyer, somebody named Randazza, beat the rap, his motion to dismiss being granted.  Unfortunately, the case being in Florida, there was no price to pay for bringing a SLAPP suit, other than the public humiliation of getting whupped.

The good thing about being a successful businessman suffering from butthurt, however, is that upon losing a case with a lot of people watching, you can always count on the attention span of your critics being far shorter than the pain you suffer.  And as long as there’s money for lawyers, there’s hope.

Now that  the video of Comins shooting dogs is more than three years old (21 in dog years, half a century in internet years), and all eyes are looking for new images to capture their angst and imagination, the patient litigant figures no one is watching.  And so he’s going for his double dip.

Christopher Comins has,

I’m watching, Chris. I see you double dipping.  It’s disgusting.

NYT: Law Profs Have Short Legs

The article itself was exceptionally mediocre.  Its point, that law school doesn’t teach students how to be lawyers, is old news. Its examples, an article from some philosophy journal, students who couldn’t do a megamerger on day one of practice, completely missed the boat and hardly proved the point.

But put an article slamming law school on the front page of the  New York Times and everybody throws a hissy fit. 


Law schools know all about the tough conditions that await graduates, and many have added or expanded programs that provide practical training through legal clinics. But almost all the cachet in legal academia goes to professors who produce law review articles, which gobbles up huge amounts of time and tuition money. The essential how-tos of daily practice are a subject that many in the faculty know nothing about — by design.

The tapping on keyboards could be heard from campuses nationwide even before the ink was dry.  At PrawfsBlawg, Matt Bodie wrote a cutesy Thanksgiving recipe for ruining a scholar’s appetite, nitpicking the article.  Some of his commenters weren’t as terse, but other, anonymously (since no one in academia is allowed to say anything unpleasant)  blamed the scamblogs and attacked the writer, David Segal, as ugly and poorly dressed.

Meanwhile, Jeffrey Kahn at  Concurring Opinions takes it slightly less personally:


Segal blasts legal education for failing to produce prêt-à-porter lawyers sized to fit the needs of everyone from Skadden Arps to solo practitioners.  Segal also denies the value of “pure” research — law review articles and other scholarly output that do not satisfy his requirements for immediate application to daily practice.  Gerard Magliocca and Alex Guerrero already commented on one of his examples.  As with Dick the Butcher’s suggestion in Shakespeare’s Henry VI, Part 2, Segal’s article is wrong on both teaching and research.

Most readers would immediately note Kahn’s resort to the trite Dick the Butcher quote, but I find his “prêt-à-porter lawyers” characterization far more revealing, denigrating the idea that new lawyers be competent off the rack.


It’s just that developing the skill set that Segal prioritizes (such as his opening example: filing a certificate of merger with a secretary of state) is not the sole, let alone primary, goal of legal education.  Those form-filling and filing skills are important, but best honed by firms that daily engage in those specialized, localized, and technical operations.  Law schools, in contrast, have the advantage in teaching the general skills and knowledge that firms of all sizes (as well as government agencies and corporations) have neither the time, inclination, nor resources to perfect.  But these organizations desperately need these things in the lawyers they hire: critical thinking, professional standards, ethical judgment, and historical perspective (to name a few).

He then launches into the “trade school” argument, that law schools don’t exist to train technicians, but legal philosophers. Notably, I have yet to see a single website by a law firm promoting that it may not know how to prepare papers, but it can argue legal philosophy all day long.

In the meantime, Orin Kerr at  Volokh Conspiracy risks the awful pain of butt splinters by straddling the fence noting


there’s an underlying point that I think is both important and correct: Law professors, at especially the “top” law schools, are becoming less connected to the legal profession. As a result, over time, they are less likely to know — and therefore less able to teach — the perspective an experienced lawyer would bring to legal problems.

And yet, he goes on to wiggle:
I don’t know what the right balance is, but I do think that students are best served when their classes are taught by professors with a mix of approaches.

Not quite the orthodoxy, but not quite a traitor to the Academy. Well played.  And lest you think that only scholars’ panties were in a bunch, so too were the  friends of fishwives who saw this as an attack on their business model of teaching skill-challenged new lawyers how to deceptively market themselves to effectively scam the public and accomplish their chief task coming out of law school, to make a buck at any cost.

To the extent that Segal’s article struck a chord (or cut one, as they case may be), it’s nothing that we haven’t known for a very long time.  It was a crappy article about a significant problem, leaving tons of reasons to criticize it, but one reason to embrace it.  It’s failing.  It’s failing to produce lawyers who leave with the knowledge and ability they’ve paid for. It’s failing to produce lawyers who can be entrusted with the lives of other people, despite their ability to recite Kant.

Segal’s article gave law professors the opportunity to circle the wagons and engage in group denial, and they seized it.  So the “chin-stroking” example of “A Future Foretold: Neo-Aristotelian Praise of Postmodern Legal Theory” was wrongly attributed to a law review than philosophy rag? Fair enough. So explain  Harry Potter and the Half-Crazed Bureaucracy , 104 Mich. L.R. 1523 (2006)? So Segal used a bad example. That doesn’t mean he was wrong.

While the clients of Biglaw aren’t necessarily inclined to pay for the education of young’uns, the point that no every student emerges from school to warm a library chair in some megafirm can’t be summarily ignored.  This leaves them exposed to the schemes of the unscrupulous, who fill their heads with images of sugar plum marketing fairies while they wouldn’t know what a motion looks like if it slapped them upside the head.  Why not just pepper spray your students, or worse still, the poor clients they mislead with their vague representations of “passion” in lieu of competence. No excuses are going to serve as substitute for the ability to represent clients.

Here’s the bottom line, what judges, lawyers, students have been screaming at you but hasn’t managed to be heard by heads too filled with scholarly self-importance.  You aren’t producing lawyers.

And for my good buddy, Orin, with my deep concern for the pain he could suffer on his fence, let me offer a question that might help him figure out where to draw the line:

How long must a man’s legs be?




UC Davis: Perfectly Reasonable, Completely Wrong

As day follows night, explanation follows outrage. And the pepper spraying of students brought UC David Police Chief Annette Spicuzza to the podium. 



Spicuzza said Friday that about 35 officers from UC Davis and other UC campuses as well as the city of Davis responded to the protest about 4 p.m., wearing protective gear.


Spicuzza said officers were forced to use pepper spray when students surrounded them. They used a sweeping motion on the group, per procedure, to avoid injury, she said.


“There was no way out of that circle,” Spicuzza said Friday. “They were cutting the officers off from their support. It’s a very volatile situation.”

If you don’t think too hard, this makes perfect sense.  If you perform perfunctory analysis, the flaws in the reasoning become immediately apparent.

1.  The students have a constitutional right to assemble and protest.  It doesn’t matter whether you like what they’re protesting, or agree with them, but this is one of those freedoms we all possess. You know, the “freedom isn’t free” stuff that’s put on bumper stickers and for which young American men and women put themselves in harm’s way.

2.  By virtue of the exercise of their rights, the police are called in to “respond.”  Whether they’re wearing protective gear, which some might better characterize as riot gear, or short and a t-shirts, the key is that police were directed to address a group of students exercising their constitutional rights. 

3.  Students surrounded them.  This is less fact than characterization, as the police moved into the area, and had the complete ability to position themselves, assuming they had any business being there at all, wherever they felt it would be most advantageous.  What they decided to do was to move in as a group on the students engaged in the exercise of their constitutional rights, So rather than claim that students surrounded them, the more accurate characterization is that they pushed themselves into the midst of students.

4. There was no way out of that circle.  Well, this is preposterous.  If the officers wanted to be on the perimeter rather than in the middle, they need only have walked to the outside.  There was no one stopping them from moving to the perimeter.  There was no one who could have stopped them from doing so, since they were the only armed force present.  What Spicuzza means to say is that the officers had no intention of inserting themselves in the middle, in front of the students exercising their constitutional rights, and moving to the outside of the circle, while at the same stop preventing others from being where they were.

5. They were cutting off the officers from their support.  Support for what?  This wasn’t the seige of Leningrad.  There was no mass of officers off in some nether region attempting to reach their beleaguered brethren.  And what did they need support for?  I suppose they could get hungry if they stood there long enough. Or perhaps a wrist could be sprained if they were to do something risky to wrists, and require immediately medical aid.  But to experience the exercise of constitutional rights by students shouldn’t require support.

6. It’s a very volatile situation. Only if one turns it into a volatile situation.  Otherwise, it’s a very banal situation, with a bunch of unarmed students peaceably sitting on the ground protesting. When they get done protesting, the get up and go back to their dorms.  Nothing volatile about it.

Or, perhaps what UC Davis Police Chief Annette Spicuzza neglected to mention was that her officers were ordered to stop students from peacefully exercising their constitutional rights to assemble and protest, and if they should fail to comply with the officer’s verbal orders, to use such force as is necessary to compel them to cease exercising those unfree freedoms, without putting any officer at risk of any potential physical harm or unpleasant and disrespectful retort.

Nothing volatile about it, unless you consider a challenge to the authority of police to give orders to people who are exercising their constitutional rights volatile.  I mean, to the people being ordered, not to the cops who are incapable of controlling their emotions when their authority is challenged.

Only then does this become a volatile situation.  Defiance of authority, of course, always has the potential to be volatile, but the cops can’t blame the students for their own lack of self-control.

To note that the oath taken by most police officers is to protect and defend the Constitution misses the point.  They are happy to do so, as long as people exercise their constitutional freedoms in accordance with the police’s instructions.  As so many Americans believe, this isn’t too much to ask if you’re a real patriot.  But that’s only because they accept the premise that the exercise of constitutional rights is a gift permitted by those in power.  Only then is it perfectly reasonable.

If you believe that the Constitution establishes our freedom, then it’s completely wrong.



Behind Closed Doors

I’ve been to Family Court a few times over the years, but it was never a place where I felt at home.  Everything about it felt wrong, from the essential absence of anything remotely resembling rights, to the way everyone in the room talked down to children as if they existed so every adult in the room could lecture them.  The one aspect of Family Court that I never gave much thought was that the courtrooms were closed.

Closed courtrooms in criminal court are bad, where the  constitutional right to a public trial is violated by the secret happenings behind closed doors.  The only time they were allowed to throw everybody out and close the courtroom was when the undercover took the stand, and then only when he remained active and could articulate a threat, either to him or his assignment.  When the prosecutor asked that the courtroom be closed, we fought it. No star chamber would be allowed without a fight.

Somehow, this never translated to Family Court. I never gave it any thought, as it seemed appropriate when the subject was children that their identities not be made public, that their future not be burned for something that happened when they thought like a child.  I was wrong.

In an investigation in the New York Times, a reporter tried to enter Family Court courtrooms.  Apparently, the Chief Judge of the Court of Appeals at the time, Judith Kaye, had ordered that they be open to the public.

New York State’s Family Courts were ordered to be opened to the public with much fanfare in 1997, supposedly allowing anyone to witness the cases of domestic violence, foster care and child neglect that inch through by the hundreds of thousands every year. But now, 14 years later, the Family Courts remain essentially, almost defiantly, closed to the general public.

What’s striking about this that we’re talking about courtrooms, the physical situs of law and people, where the groundlings are held accountable for what the law, as manifested by robed judges sitting on elevated benches.  This is the one place, more so than any other place, where adherence to the rule of law should be honored.  And it was just completely, inexplicably, ignored.



Some courtrooms were locked, and many were marked with “stop” and “do not enter” signs. Court officers stationed at courtroom doors repeatedly barred a visitor, sometimes with sarcasm or ridicule, frequently demanding to know who he was and what he was doing. Armed court officers at times appeared so rattled by a visitor’s efforts to enter courtrooms that, in several instances, a group of them nervously confronted the visitor, their holsters in easy reach.

On the fifth floor of Family Court in Downtown Brooklyn, where people waited in bleak assembly areas for their cases to be called, an officer was asked whether a member of the public could attend — as is permitted in other New York courts. “Not allowed, not in Family Court,” he said flatly. Outside Judge Susan Larabee’s courtroom in Manhattan Family Court, an officer flashed his badge and said disdainfully, “You don’t just walk in.” In Staten Island Family Court, three officers challenged a visitor even as they stood beneath a sign that took official note of the 1997 rule:


“The court is open to the public.”


That I took for granted that these courtrooms were special, somehow distinct from all other courtrooms, reminds me of how easy it is to mindlessly adopt the norm, the culture, without questioning whether it’s proper and right.  Without giving it a second thought, I would have said that Family Court isn’t open to the public, because that’s how it’s always been done. 

I suspect that the court officers, blocking doorways and questioning the reporter who was trying to gain entry to a place he had every right in the world to be, similarly never thought there was any chance they were wrong.  That’s how Family Court was always run, and anyone who suggested otherwise was either insane or a moron.  Turns out they were the fools. Just like me.

Imagine if the reporter refused to identify himself, show his press pass, push his way into the courtroom, through the armed officer who told him he couldn’t go in.  It would have gotten ugly, and there would be blood on the tracks.  The court officers wouldn’t have had the slightest reservation stopping the reporter, physically, to keep him out of the courtroom.  And the reporter, well aware of his right to be inside, would have still felt the pain of cuffs being tightened around his wrists.

Judge Kaye went her order to the judges who administer the courthouse, and no doubt they sent the memo around to all the chambers and courtrooms in their building.  If they read it, they forgot.  Then they went back to doing what they always do, keeping people out of the room because that’s what they do in Family Court.  This article is quite embarrassing to judges, whose lectures on the law are repeated a hundred times a day to recalcitrant kids with faces showing their disdain for authority, or their fear and humiliation when they recognize that their joke went too far.

And now those judges look like they are clueless. Or just as disdainful as the children they lecture. 



On Thursday, Edwina G. Richardson-Mendelson, the administrative judge of the New York City Family Courts, was told of the many blocked attempts to enter courtrooms. She said she was troubled to hear that courts around the city had not been open and said she planned a review. It was an opinion echoed by several other court officials apprised of the reporter’s efforts.


“We don’t have policies or rules for them to be ignored,” Judge Richardson-Mendelson said. “We’re a court of law, and law matters.”


Troubled?  You bet, but nothing close to an explanation for how this happened.  And how this happened under her watch.  And how this happened in a building filled with judges, all of whom are supposed to not only know the law, but adhere to it.

Courtrooms can still be closed when a judge makes an individualized finding that it’s needed, but there was no reason to even consider need when the rule was that nobody was allowed to enter a courtroom in Family Court.  And that means that for all these years, nobody really knew what happened behind those closed doors.  But we do know, now at least, that things happening behind closed doors to children in Luzerne County, Pennsylvania were a travesty, and went on until maybe 6500 children were lost.

The doors of courtrooms, all courtrooms, should be open, as should the minds of all lawyers who may take the culture of closure for granted.  I’ve learned my lesson.



 

The Kids On Your Baseball Team (Update)

Watching Lt. John Pike of the UC Davis police calmly walk down a row of young people and, with the nonchalance of sociopath, spray them with noxious pepper spray, a point must be made.  This post is for any cop who stumbles over here and reads it. This is a personal note from me to you.

Take a look at these kids, these people you’re hurting.  Some are war vets, the very same people you think so well of and you support. Many of you were in the military, and you stood beside these guys in far away places. They were your brothers then, and yet now they’re some other animal, some inconsequential creature.

Some are your neighbors, the ones who helped push your car out of the snow bank.  They’re the waitress who served you a coffee, and you gave her a nice tip because she made sure your cup was never empty. 

But these young people sprays by John Pike are your kids. They’re the children on the little league team you coached.  You clapped for them when they got a hit, or caught a pop fly.  You taught them how to block out the sun so they could see the ball coming.  You showed them how to plant their front foot so they could put their weight into the swing. Remember those kids?  Remember how proud you were of them when they won the game?  Even when the lost? These are the same kids.

These aren’t the mutts and skels, the street toughs and the ones you always knew would get into trouble.  Not that the human beings you decide are unworthy deserve your disdain, or to suffer your anger and physical abuse because they fit into that category in your head of things to be taught a lesson.  But we both know that there’s nothing anyone could say, especially someone like me, to convince you not to teach the people you hate a damn good lesson.

But these aren’t those people.  These are the people you welcome into your home.  These are the people you would let your child date, when you slip them the $20 so they can get popcorn at the movie.

You are pepper spraying the kids from your baseball team.

If you knew his name was Sam, could you spray him?  Would you let the other guy on your detail spray him?  Wouldn’t you say, “wait, that’s Sam. He’s okay,” and put your arm out to stop your brother cop?  If you saw him bring his baton back to split Sam’s head open, you wouldn’t let it happen. You know Sam. You know he’s the same Sam who cried when he skinned his left leg sliding into first, and you held him, you put some cream on his leg and wiped his tears.

And now you’re about to split Sam’s head open?  So what if you don’t think Sam’s politics are right.  So what if you think this whole Occupy thing is stupid.  Maybe it is.  You never asked Sam’s dad whether he voted Republican when he pushed your car out of the snow bank. You appreciated the hand, as you would offer to any neighbor.  It didn’t matter whether who he voted for.  He was a guy helping another guy out of a jam.  That’s what neighbors do for each other. That’s what people do for each other.

If you were on your day off, wearing civvies, would you take a baseball bat and hit a kid?  Would you even consider it?  It’ crazy, right?  And yet these are the very same kids you would never consider hurting. But there’s something about putting on the uniform, especially the riot gear, and it changes your view of everything.

Outsiders, guys like me, don’t get it.  We think you feel empowered, full of your authority and entitled to smack down anyone who doesn’t do as you say.  But you know that it’s not power, but responsibility. You now have a responsibility to keep order, to make people do as you tell them because you are what stands between order and chaos. You believe this. All they have to do to avoid getting hurt is follow your orders. It’s so easy. Just do what you say and they go home safe that night.  Just like you.

We can disagree about whether this compulsive belief that you need to maintain order is as important as you feel it is.  Many people will chastise me for not screaming about how you’re evil, vicious, using your authority as an excuse to vent your own anger and frustration. How you are just having some sadistic orgy of violence when you hurt a kid. 

But I’ve talked to you, face to face. We’ve had a cup of coffee, and you’ve told me that this isn’t who you are.  You’ve told me how I can’t understand what motivates you, how you have a duty that no one but another cop can understand.  I listened. I heard you. No, I don’t agree with you. I argued with you. I explained that your need for order isn’t worth splitting open some kids head. I reminded you that your daughter will walk down a street one day and some other cop will look at her and see her as someone who threatens his world.

It’s hard to remember this, to think of it this way, when you’re on a detail with orders not to let these people get in your way. You’re told to clean them out, and that’s what you’re going to do. You tell them what to do, and you expect them to obey you, and you have the club to make them.  Yes, you have all the tools, all the weapons, to make them pay with hurt for their insolence. You can make them hurt.

But they are still the kids on your baseball team.  That’s who you are spraying, hitting, pushing, throwing to the ground.  They didn’t hurt you. They won’t hit you back. These aren’t people you need to fear, people who might stop you from going home tonight to have dinner with your own children.  These are your children.

Don’t hurt these children.  Don’t hurt these people. The chaos will end and order will return on its own. No one has to be hurt.  Don’t beat the kids on your baseball team.

Update: From this comment, the  Boing Boing interview of one of the students undermines my basic idea here, that by seeing their targets as human beings rather than something less, some part of the their brain will register so that the cops, not being sociopaths, will not inflinct mindless harm.


W. tells Boing Boing that Pike sprayed them at close range with military-grade pepper spray, in a punitive manner. Pike knew the students by name from Thursday night when they “occupied” a campus plaza. The students offered Pike food and coffee and chatted with him and other officers while setting up tents. On Friday, UC Davis chancellor Linda Katehi told students they had to remove their #OWS tents for unspecified “health and safety” reasons.

“Move or we’re going to shoot you,” Pike is reported to have yelled at one student right before delivering pepper spray. Then, turning to his fellow officers and brandishing the can in the air, “Don’t worry, I’m going to spray these kids down.”

My thoughts notwithstanding, clearly the realization that these were people did not impact Lt. Pike’s willingness to do harm.  Read the rest of the interview. It’s deeply disheartening. More importantly, it suggests that there is something seriously psychologically wrong with Lt. Pike, that his nonchalance came after having been offered food and coffee by these young people, as if they were real people.  This is the act of a sick man.



And Another N00b Moves Into the Blawgosphere

Just as you feel the bile rising in your throat because another lawyer proclaims himself the best thing since sliced bread on the internet, something comes along to make you laugh.  Meet AppellateSquawk, another anonymous PD blawg that reminds us that misery loves company.

Who is this n00b?


Law was Squawk’s second choice in life. Our first choice was anything else.


Squawk attended the Acme School of Law & Refrigerator Repair and graduated number 398 in a class of 400 after calling the Property professor a horse’s ass. The professor predicted that our sense of outrage would make us a wonderful advocate and flunked us out.


Did he say refrigerator repair? I like him already.  And already, he’s been kicked off some of the most self-important blogs around.



The other day, the blogversation turned to Perry v. New Hampshire, which is about whether the DA can use a dodgy eyewitness identification so long as it wasn’t “police-arranged.” “Police-arranged” means the cops throw your client in handcuffs against the patrol car and tell the hysterical witness, “We’ve caught the scumbag.”


We had a few thoughts, having noticed that all those funky old Supreme Court cases from back in the ’70′s never said that the purpose of precluding suggestive i.d.’s is to slap the police on the wrist. They were worried about convicting the wrong person. Even before DNA exonerations and eyewitness experiments where nobody notices a gorilla walking into the classroom, at least some judges knew that one person can be mistaken for another pretty easily.


So if the i.d. is so unreliable that it risks getting the wrong person convicted, the DA shouldn’t be allowed to use it, no matter where it came from.


We thought we’d share this with the luminaries of SCOTUSblog, since nobody else had made this particular point. And darned if we didn’t get a prissy e-mail back saying they were giving our comment the heave-ho because “the author didn’t use their real name” [sic sic sic].


And he shares some similar ideas about the greater glory of harmless error.



Of all the professions claiming to be based on reason rather than revelation, only law makes a positive virtue of refusing to correct its own mistakes. We love it when an appellate decision recites a string of outrageous trial errors but finds them all harmless because the defendant was guilty anyway. As if only innocent people should get a fair trial.


What if doctors were like that? “Okay, so we cut off the wrong leg. But it’s clearly harmless because you’d be one-legged even if we’d cut off the right one.”


I know, I love unidexter jokes too!  With all this, he still has a soft spot for safety of those who have dedicated their lives to protecting and serving.



One of our appeals involved a cop who punched a man in the head for refusing to explain why he was walking through the lobby of his own building. Guess who was convicted of assault causing physical injury? The tenant, of course. His head had caused the cop to sprain his wrist.


So pity the poor NYPD cops getting hurt while arresting peaceful Occupy Wall St. demonstrators last night. Did they get blisters from wielding their clubs, or breathe their own pepper spray? Or get tangled up in those plastic handcuffs that they carry by the bundle in gleeful anticipation of making lots and lots of arrests, not to mention overtime pay?


Just when you think that there won’t be another new blawger with half a brain and a sense of humor, with nothing to sell and no marketing scheme up their sleeve, somebody comes along to bring a smile to your face and something worth the few minutes it takes to read. 

AppellateSquawk just destroyed my newly discovered world view that the blawgosphere is dead and we’re all doomed to watch Larry Bodine webinars.  That his failure to link to anybody and let us know he existed is a testament to his public defender-y lack of interest in self-promotion, selfish though it may be. 


Note to good blawgers: Would you be kind enough to let us know you exist without making us work so hard to find you? Trust me, the crap ones are on us hourly for a link exchange. Thank you. 

In any event, I welcome Squawk, now that Dennis Murphy told me he existed, to the blawgosphere, late perhaps but at least not never. I just hope he’s not a girl, or I’ve wasted a ton of male pronouns.

A Stroll Around The Neighborhood

Some loose yet interesting stuff that I came across recently during a long stroll around the internet that never made it into a post of its own.

A Smashing Good Time

The Appellate Division,4th Department, held in  Franklin Corp v. Prahler that the owner of a collector car damaged by the negligence of another was no longer limited to the lesser of the reasonable cost of repairs or the reduction in market value.



Plaintiff was the owner of a 2000 Ford GT (hereafter, GT). On May 28, 2005, the GT was parked on the east side of Franklin Street in the City of Buffalo. According to plaintiff, the GT “is a rare collector’s sports car rapidly appreciating in value.” On the day in question, Justin M. Prahler (defendant) was driving a 1997 Jeep Cherokee and had consumed several alcoholic beverages. He was legally intoxicated when he struck and damaged the GT.


There’s nothing the owner of a collector car fears more than having his baby hit, whether by drunk, distracted SUV owner or loving fan who just wanted a closer look at 67 miles per hour.  But it’s still a car, and it needs to feel road beneath its tires.  Anytime you put a car on the road, the potential for disaster exists, though prohibitions against driving like a blithering fool are supposed to bring some small comfort.

For those unaware, the cost of insurance for a classic car is pennies compared to your minivan. That’s because classic car owners are actuarially recognized to take exceptional precautions to protect their vehicles.  But that doesn’t mean bad things won’t happen, not of their doing. So what happens when some collector car (say, a 1964 Austin Healey 3000 Mark III, Series II, BJ8) gets smashed?



Unlike a K-car, an exotic or classic car isn’t quite returned to its status quo ante by repair. Originality is highly prized, and a significant part of the intrinsic value of a classic car.  When some drunk smashes into it, the loss in value is far greater than the cost of repairs, and there’s no logic to precluding the plaintiff to recovering both the cost of repairs as well as the diminution of value.  About time a court recognized it.

Cowardice, The Next Big Thing In Legal Marketing

Is nothing sacred? For years,  Brian Tannebaum has made a nuisance of himself harping on the evils unethical behavior and deceptive legal marketing.  All this time, I thought he did it because he was deeply concerned about the profession and, well, he was inclined to be a douche.  Not so, according to divorce lawyer Lee Rosen.




If I had any guts, I’d say more about the bullshit that’s written about marketing, search engine optimization, virtual practices, unbundling, etc. because there is so much bullshit that it would fill a thousand railroad cars every month.


Having guts—being willing to tell the truth, even when it’s controversial—is a good marketing practice. It generates attention, which usually translates into increased business. You should try it because it works. Calling someone out is great marketing. It’s amazingly effective.


Exhibit  A: Brian Tannebaum,


So this has all been about increasing business by counter-marketing?  Not with an online picture like this:


(Image courtesy of Hair Club for Men and Lapel Pins-R-Us)

Rosen describes himself as “chickenshit” in comparison to Tannebaum, taking leave by saying, “Now, excuse me so I can head up to my room and see whether I can’t grow a pair.” Such humility, coming from a bald guy.

I Never Saw It Coming, Your Honor

Speaking of humility, few things are as humbling as being unable to get table on a Friday night at a decent restaurant or being sentenced, at least if you’re a hedge fund guy.  Both compel explanation, though one is easier than the other.  Via  Ashby Jones at the WSJ.



“Your Honor, I was not aware of the changes that were happening in me that blurred the line between right and wrong. They came slowly over several years. I allowed myself to slip into the world of relativism where the ends justified the means. Quite frankly, it’s very hard to imagine how I became that kind of person.” — Joseph “Chip” Skowron III, Friday, Nov. 18.

And yet, he used the information to dump stock in a biotech that was about to become a huge loser, you know? It’s really not that hard to imagine.



The above is sort of an elegant mea culpa, no? We thinks it’s likely the way that a lot of white-collar crooks get covered in mud, by wading into it very gently at first.

It always starts with a few million here, a few million there, and pretty soon we’re talking real money.  Every time a guy pleads to a corporate or financial crime, he’s stuck trying to come up with a way to explain why he isn’t a venal, malevolent criminal. Sometimes, there’s an actual reason. Most times, it’s just opportunity combined with self-interest multiplied by the belief that he’ll never get caught.

But it’s a damn fine statement at sentence, no doubt vetted through his lawyer.



Skowron was repped by Akin Gump’s James J. Benjamin, Jr., a former SDNY prosecutor.

And remember, white collar crooks, nobody knows how to prepare a better worded sentencing statement than a former SDNY prosecutor.  Credit where credit is due. Plus 60 months, $5 million in restitution and a $150k fine. Try shorting that.

Ralph Nader Wishes He Was Ben

The  Consumerist is one of those websites, almost a blawg, that actually managed to do something useful, making it stand apart from the rest of us who blathering on pointlessly.  The reason for this can be summed up in two words, “Ben” and “Popken,” the man who saved more consumers from misery than anyone else on the interwebz.

Via Bruce Carton at Legal Blog Watch, I learned that Ben is leaving the Consumerist, which has been on my blogroll for years, because, as it turns out, he hates people.



Here’s the part in these things where I’m supposed to tell you about the ground-exploding Web5.0 transdimensional hyperrealistic consumer empowerment matrix I’m starting. Except there isn’t one. I’m working on a few different ways to exploit my brain for profit. In the meantime, please stay in touch. I’m writing at benpopkenwrites.com, making funny stuff at benpopkenisjustkidding.com, and my personal landing page and catchall for my endeavors and adventures is iambenpopken.com.

Well, hate may be too strong a word, but apparently after six years of effectively humiliating corporate skels into doing what consumers paid them to do, he’s decided that it’s good to eat and he wants to make money.  My personal belief is that he’s preparing a run for the Republican nomination for President of the United States of America, expecting his campaign to be financed by his good friends at Comcast.  It could happen.

Great News for the Criminal Defense Lawyer doing Criminal Defense Law in Criminal Defense


There are few names bigger in the industry sucking earned fees out of servicing lawyers than Lexis/Nexis, so if Lexis says so, it has to be, right?  And combine the Lexis caché with the street cred of Larry Bodine, marketer extraordinaire whose lawyer consulting business was so fabulous that he traded it in for a spot on the corporate ladder, and you’ve got must-do for every lawyer, right?

Keywords To Success - Generate more business with Search Engine Optimization



The Keywords to Success: How to Generate More Business for Your Law Firm with Search Engine Optimization

That’s right, the joys of search engine optimization! As any fabulous legal marketer will tell you, use it or die.  So you think that the secret to wealth and prestige as a criminal defense lawyer lies in criminal defense lawyers using keywords as a criminal defense lawyer in criminal defense, whatever.

But this is no mere scuzzbucket SEO webinar to “demystify search engine optimization (SEO) and explore how you can strategically apply some of the latest SEO techniques to generate more clients.”  Oh no. That would be beneath Bodine’s dignity, not to mention that value added approach of Lexis.  Nope, this is a CLE for credit!  That’s right, your continuing legal education now includes demystifying SEO.



Earn CLE credits*


Wait a sec.  An asterisk?  What’s that all about?


*CLE is in the process of approval. LexisNexis is approved for telephonic/Webinar training on this topic in the following states: Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, California, Florida, Georgia, Kentucky, Minnesota, Missouri, Montana, New York┼, North Dakota, and Utah (self-study only).

┼Only experienced (having completed their first 32 hours of CLE) NY attorneys may take telephonic training for CLE. New York regulation requires that all CLE sessions must be conducted by a JD or an attorney in good standing.

Why is this part in light gray, kinda hard to read? Barely noticeable? So you mean it has yet to actually be approved for CLE credits.  Maybe because it’s absurd and outrageous and disgusting that anybody would think they deserve CLE credits for a webinar about search engine optimization?  But this is Lexis. This is Larry Bodine.  They would never lie to us about the value of SEO or its merit for continuing legal education. Never. That would be wrong.

Me and My Shadow

One time JAG turned dirty guy, Eric Mayer, who now goes by the handle  Unwashed Advocate (for reasons too disgusting to mention) has taken up making lists, in a therapeutic sort of way. 


 When I first decided to leave my comfy government job with a pension and regular paycheck, I did a lot of research about solo practice, the business of running a practice, and things that help my particular business model. I saw tons of articles and lists called “Everything you WANTED [emphasis added] to know about solo practice.” Sure, there was a lot I wanted to know. I wanted to hear that I’d make millions. I wanted to hear that it was easy. I wanted to hear that I’d get great cases and find myself arguing before a jury in minutes. I wanted to know that I’d have no problem finding success. I wanted to know that a rainbow would pop through the window every morning.

Nobody published that list. I exaggerate. Some did. Some people talked about aspects about practice that were challenging or undesirable, but they were drowned-out by the volumes of folks talking about solo practice with wide-eyed wonderment and zeal. Sunshine was regularly injected into my rectum.

The rectum obsession is disturbing, particularly in light of his new blawg name, but hardly the most disconcerting part of his post.  He proceeds to lay it on the line, with such notable gems as:


Those wonderful thoughts you had about answering your own phone evaporate once you answer your own phone. The world is full of tin-foil hat wearing conspiracy theorists. They’ve all been wronged by the government. They all have a highly complex story to share. They know how to trap someone on a phone better than a telemarketer. They’ve all been probed by aliens, and they love talking to lawyers. Now, you’re fresh meat.

And lest I not tie things together, the easiest way for the nutjobs to find your phone number is via the magic of SEO.  But as Eric delightfully points out, it not necessarily the worst thing in the world that your name gets passed around the tin foil hat society, since even your dog or cat couldn’t give a damn about your day.


You may eventually turn to Twitter for companionship. There, you’ll meet lawyers and lawyer-friendly people. You’ll share your funnies and thoughts, but, eventually, you realize something. Everyone there is pathetic, just like you. Like you, they just want to share their thoughts and funnies. They could care less about your thoughts and funnies. They only want you to read their thoughts and funnies. Like you, they sit at a computer, mumble incoherent thoughts, and chuckle at internet humor–all while farting their last highly-processed TV dinner. Calling Twitter one big circle jerk is an insult to circle jerks.

And this, amigos, is the reason why everyone, receding hairline or not, should own a classic car and take their chances on it getting smashed by some drunk.  It’s better than turning to twitter for companionship. Even if you can get CLE credit for doing so.