The ideal ideal
Jul 27th
A few weeks ago, I had something akin to a job interview. There I sat, on one side of a metal table, in my favorite suit. He sat on the other. The questions came fast and furious: “How many cases have you tried?” I wasn’t expecting that, so I took my time. Too late. “How many have you won?”
“Well, what do you mean by won. That can mean many things” I sputtered the old refrain. “No, no,” he shook his head, “how many clients were found not guilty?” I obfuscated, because I don’t play that game and because I knew exactly what was coming next: “Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you can handle this? I mean, this is my life on the line here.”
It’s times like these that I think it would be nice to be able to say that I’ve won every single case I’ve tried. To be able to boast of a perfect win-loss record (which, actually, I jokingly did after I won my first trial ever). But there are only three ways that any lawyer practicing criminal law can even hope to achieve that record: 1) by being a prosecutor, 2) by flat out lying about it and 3) by being a defense lawyer who picks his cases very carefully.
But as a wise man once said, criminal defense isn’t about picking winners. Picking winners is an idealistic business strategy, one that established lawyers may attempt as a product of their long standing reputation and the desire to build upon that reputation and create an aura. But, in the end, it is nothing more than an ego-boosting business plan.
Which has nothing to do with the reality of criminal defense. The two are at odds, for one shouldn’t become a criminal defense lawyer for the sake of their reputation or win-loss record or to pad their coffers (though that is a necessary by-product). There are some that argue otherwise:
‘Everyone is entitled to be represented by an attorney’ is the idealistic chant often recited by defense attorneys as justification for representing even the most vicious criminals in our society. The concept is unassailable, but idealism is rarely what motivates lawyers who represent guilty defendants. They take the work because trying cases is their livelihood, and they are ambitious to advance their careers. These motivations, while not improper, are clearly not idealistic.
True idealism would be involved in a hypothetical situation such as the following. Suppose a family is brutally murdered in a small town, and none of the six lawyers in town is willing to represent the suspect because the enraged citizens are all convinced of the suspect’s guilt and no lawyer wants to be ostracized in the community for attempting to get the suspect off. Finally, one attorney steps forward and says, ‘I don’t care what my friends at the Rotary Club and the First Baptist Church say. This is America, and everyone is entitled under the Sixth Amendment to our Constitution to be represented by an attorney.’
This, as Mark has already pointed out, is nothing more than the worship of a false God. An attempt to fit the nobler attempts of others into their own baser paradigms. As a public defender, I do not have the luxury of choosing the clients I represent, yet I do my job with no ambitious desire to “advance my career”. The only ambition I have is to become a better lawyer and represent my clients – especially the guilty ones – more effectively.
I may be in the minority here, but it is my opinion that it is easier to represent the obviously innocent client. It takes a much stronger constitution to represent those whose guilt has been presumed in they eyes of all others. It takes more than paying lip service to the greatest fear: that we defend the guilty as well as the innocent because we cannot fathom the horror of an innocent man going to jail.
Because the injustices of the system manifest themselves in more ways than the mere conviction of a man against whom there is little or no evidence. There are the guilty-of-something-lesser, the guilty-but-for-good-reason, those that are deserving of more than cursory process. The ideal is to stand side by side with a man who may well have committed terrible crimes and to say to him: I do not care whether you are guilty or innocent and I will fight to the last to ensure that society treats you with the process and respect that you, as an individual, deserve. Maybe I’m an odd duck, but I want this job because the territory mainly encompasses those that are guilty. To me, they are not the afterthought or the unpleasant tax of doing business.
Until you can truly believe that the guilt or innocence of a client makes no difference to the quality of representation that you provide, you are not a criminal defense lawyer. You are a businessman.
Where were you on April 17, 1966?
Jul 22nd
Ask anyone that question and they’ll look at you like you’re crazy (and you might get some interesting responses from those that weren’t born yet). But try it. If you were alive then, think back. Think back to that April day or any other April day that year or the next year or in fact, any day between 1966 and 1972 and tell me where you were specifically between the general periods of any time of day or night.
You can’t. It’s impossible. 44 years have passed since 1966 and 38 since 1972. Yet, for “G.R.H.” of Louisiana it is this lack of photographic memory and the inability to have the foresight to note and document his whereabouts on all those days in those 6 years decades ago that has landed him in jail for the rest of his life.
In 2006, GRH [opinion here] was accused of sexually assaulting a minor, as you may have guessed, between 1966 and 1972. The complainant, 44 at the time of the accusations, had an alleged clear memory of the assaults perpetrated by the defendant, some 40 years ago.
There was no corroboration, no contemporaneous disclosure, no other instances of sexual abuse by this defendant, nothing. Just the say-so of a 44 year old woman, almost an entire lifetime after it allegedly occurred.1
Imagine, as Justice Douglas did, dissenting in United States v. Marion, that the 44 year delay occurred after GRH was arrested and not before. Certainly, none would argue that his right to a speedy trial was not violated. And the concerns with such a delay are certainly mitigated after the institution of a criminal prosecution: you know there is an action pending, so you hire an investigator, document your memories, speak to witnesses and firm up their recollections. When someone is not prosecuted and doesn’t sense one coming (having done nothing wrong), there is no reason why anyone would keep track of whatever alibis they might have had or whatever witnesses may have had to offer.
Justice Douglas, quoting Baron Alderson in 1844:
The freakin’ FCC: obscenely indecent
Jul 15th
Two days ago, the Second Circuit on remand from the Supreme Court, struck down the FCC’s policy on “fleeting expletives” (don’t you love how bureaucrats can make anything sound clinical and boring?) as being unconstitutionally vague. Incomprehensible is also a good word to use here. Here’s a choice paragraph. Don’t worry kids, since you’re on a 7-second time lapse, you’ll only see **** where the expletives are:
We agree with the Networks that the indecency policy is impermissibly vague. The first problem arises in the FCC’s determination as to which words or expressions are patently offensive. For instance, while the FCC concluded that “bullshit” in a “NYPD Blue” episode was patently offensive, it concluded that “dick” and “dickhead” were not. . . . The Commission argues that its three-factor “patently offensive” test gives broadcasters fair notice of what it will find indecent. However, in each of these cases, the Commission’s reasoning consisted of repetition of one or more of the factors without any discussion of how it applied them.
From the WSJ:
The decision doesn’t mean broadcast TV and radio shows will now be littered with profanity, because advertisers and viewers would likely complain. But the ruling will likely end, for now, the commission’s campaign to cleanse the airwaves of even spontaneous vulgarisms with the threat of hefty fines.
Interestingly, the indecent policy doesn’t apply from 10p.m. to 6a.m. and only covers the networks anyway, but when’s the last time you heard someone say fuck on cable television even at midnight?
For some dense it-could-only-come-from-a-law-prof legal analysis of the decision and its implications, click here. For the second grade reading level analysis, read this. As you can tell, I’m all for this decision right now, but if I’m ever subjected to Janet Jackson’s nipple again, I might sing a different tune. I still wake up with a cold sweat in the middle of the night and see tassels floating before my eyes.
The most interesting article produced as a result of the FCC ruling is this one from Reason, asking the important question: “if indecency is unconstitutionally vague, why isn’t obscenity”? Everyone who’s been within 1500 feet of a law school knows the old “you’ll know obscenity when you see it” line. Sort of like how my contracts professor explained consideration to us: “It’s like chicken sexing. You’ll know it when you see it.”
Exactly.
What I find obscene may not be obscene to you, or, more likely, what you find obscene will not be obscene to me. Take this, for instance. It’s both obscene and indecent. Yet there are no fines.
So, ponders Sullum:
What both definitions have in common is an inescapable vagueness and subjectivity that make enforcement actions utterly unpredictable. Both require the application of “contemporary community standards,” whatever those are, and a judgment about what is “patently offensive.” In practice, this means broadcasters are at the mercy of bureaucrats’ capricious tastes, while the freedom of a defendant in an obscenity case hinges on exactly how icky a bunch of randomly selected people think his films are. The results cannot possibly be anything but arbitrary. As anti-porn activist Patrick Trueman concedes in Reason.tv’s video “Obscenity vs. Freedom of Speech,” the films that triggered Stagliano’s indictment are “in many respects typical of what’s available today”—i.e., they are not different in kind from pornography that is widely available in the District of Columbia (where Stagliano is being tried) and throughout the country. Yet as Richard Abowitz reported the other day, the judge overseeing the trial has barred Stagliano from presenting testimony to that effect.
[This Stagliano trial is highly amusing for several reasons. One is that the prosecution couldn't get the damn video to play; the same video it says is obscene. Today, the judge precluded the State from entering that video into evidence.]
Will the Supreme Court agree to review the Second Circuit’s decision? Will they hold that the FCC’s policy is indeed unconstitutional? Will people start saying “fuck” on national TV during primetime? Stay tuned.
But you didn’t come here and read this post for First Amendment analysis. You came for the video. And let’s be real, this entire post is a big fat excuse for two things: 1. For me to say fuck as many times as I can. Fuck.
2. This:
Did I say fuck yet? Fuck.
Deterrent? Not Actually
Jul 14th
all your DNA are belong to us
The story of the role of DNA in the criminal justice system is quite interesting. Heralded as the ultimate in crime solving, DNA has slowly infiltrated the collective consciousness of the entire nation and infected our lawyers, judges and jurors. It’s a double-edged sword, to be sure: DNA can accurately (or maybe not) identify an individual who leaves behind some trace materials at or in a crime scene, thereby implicating or exculpating a suspect. Fueled by DNA based shows like CSI, jurors became more demanding and mistakenly over reliant on the science, producing the “CSI effect”, DNA, on the other hand, has drawbacks that defense lawyers try to highlight – which I’m not sure have sunk in yet – like the fact that you it can’t tell you when it was deposited. DNA is most famous for high-profile exonerations of people already convicted of crimes and serving lengthy prison sentences.
But DNA is much more than that. As the science grows, the uses and implications of the genetic markers grows by leaps and bounds (see here and for the future, see here).
Which is why DNA, and the collection of DNA, is so attractive to law enforcement agencies. Unfortunately, as is often the case, the evolution of science and technology and the desired application of these new uses conflicts to some degree with the core protections of the Constitution.
Just yesterday, a 3 judge panel of the 9th Circuit heard an appeal in a lawsuit filed by the ACLU challenging the legality of California’s DNA-collection-upon-arrest law. That’s essentially all there is to the law: collect the DNA of everyone ever arrested. (Connecticut tried to pass a similar bill two years ago and it was ultimately rejected.) Under some circumstances, the DNA may never be deleted from their database:
Indigent defense on trial
Jul 12th
The stereotype of the over-worked, under-paid public defender exists for a reason. Even though I’ve personally fought against the stereotype here on the blog and in real life, I must necessarily admit that in a lot of States, the caricature is not a caricature at all, but an accurate representation of the state of indigent defense. Often, the public defender is only as good as the resources and time available to her. The best lawyer may seem incompetent if overburdened and underfunded.
I noted a while ago that a battle was brewing on the state of indigent defense and two recent news items seem to validate that observation. First, via CrimProf, a troubling decision out of Florida, where the intermediate appellate court reversed a trial court’s ruling granting a public defender’s motion to withdraw from one particular case because he could not adequately represent the defendant due to his high caseload. Then, on July 7, the Third District Court of Appeal reversed the trial court, holding that the mere word of a public defender that he was unable to provide constitutionally adequate representation was not enough to establish that the defendant would suffer prejudice:
Our analysis of the record in this case, however, leads us to conclude that there was no evidence of actual or imminent prejudice to Bowens’ constitutional rights. If the trial court’s order stands, all that the PD11 must do to show prejudice is swear that he or she has too many cases or that the workload is so excessive as to prevent him or her from working on the client’s case prior to the scheduled trial, and that he or she will be forced to file for continuance, thereby waiving the client’s speedy trial rights. This “prejudice” is not the type of prejudice that this Court referred to in State v. Public Defender. Prejudice means there must be a real potential for damage to a constitutional right, such as effective assistance of counsel or the right to call a witness, or that a witness might be lost if not immediately investigated. And this is the critical fact — the PD11 has not made any showing of individualized prejudice or conflict separate from that which arises out of an excessive caseload.
This conclusion is on the back of Florida statute that explicitly prohibits public defenders from withdrawing from cases because of excessive caseloads or inadequate funding:
(d) In no case shall the court approve a withdrawal by the public defender or criminal conflict and civil regional counsel based solely upon inadequacy of funding or excess workload of the public defender or regional counsel.
Here’s a statute that so blatantly conflicts with the professional and ethical responsibility of a lawyer to withdraw from the representation of a client if he feels he is unable to provide adequate and competent representation. Court, making the determination of whether to permit counsel to withdraw, do so on a case-by-case basis, but to exclude a very real and prevalent reason for that inability to provide adequate representation seems to be problematic on many levels, not the least of which a violation of the separation of powers.
Sometimes a fool is just a fool
Jul 12th
A client who represents himself has a fool for a lawyer. And fools are, by their very description, entitled to make foolish decisions. As those in the legal profession know well, just because a client makes a foolish decision, it doesn’t mean that he’s incompetent. Well, not always anyway.
So recognized the Ninth Circuit in a recent decision in United States v. Johnson. The defendants were tried on a bunch of boring fraud type stuff and they represented themselves, putting for a defense that was gibberish. No, that’s not my characterization, it’s the Ninth Circuit’s:
Defendants Kurt F. Johnson and Dale Scott Heineman were indicted for conspiracy and multiple counts of mail fraud related to their illegitimate debt-elimination business. They were adamant in their desire to represent themselves and assert an absurd legal theory wrapped up in Uniform Commercial Code gibberish.
It always tickles me to read words like “gibberish” in appellate opinions.
Innocence on a clock
Jul 7th
When I first turned my eye toward law school and the criminal justice system, the echoing refrain was that we, in this country, were the best. The criminal justice system, the jury system, the resources, the level of intelligence on both sides of the aisle on the bench all combined to create the best that the world had to offer. Law school, immersing us in the vagaries and nuances of Constitutional and criminal law, making us read and learn awe-inspiring quotes from Justices past, only served to reinforce that notion.
We were fooled. Years later, with years of practice and actual experience under my belt, I’ve come to the conclusion that while the system may still be the “best” in the world, it is only so by comparison to the others that are currently in existence (and even that I doubt, but since I’m no comparative law scholar, what do I know?). That makes me sad, both for the systems of other countries and our own.
There are two indelible truths about the system here in the US: it is the criminal conviction system and finality is king (an idea that deserves a fuller post; upcoming).
And when you combine those two inescapable conclusions, you get Lee v. Lampert (pdf). Lee, you see, got stuck in that quagmire that is AEDPA. Lee, you may also see, has proven that he is actually innocent of the crimes of which he stands convicted. And yet, because he missed the statutory, non-jurisdictional, arbitrary deadline for filing a federal habeas corpus petition, he will get no justice.
Happy Independunce Day
Jul 5th
From the “you have the right to be stupid” clause of the Constitution:
A Fairfield man was arrested Thursday morning after buying a high powered rifle to stop an alien invasion, police said.
Fairfield Police Sgt. James Perez said Dane Eisenman, 57, responded to a classified advertisement for a .30-06 rifle about a month ago. While filing out the paper for the rifle, police said, he mentioned to the seller what he would be using the weapon for.
“He said he was going to use the weapon to kill aliens,” Perez said.
Like the seller of the gun, I, too, was unsure upon reading the headline whether Eisenman was referring to little green men from Mars or real humans from another country, trying to illegally enter these United States. The answer is neither:
Sgt. Perez said Eisenman told the seller of the rifle every 36,000 years, aliens who live under the sun come to Earth to kill humans, and he needed to be prepared because “They’re going to be coming soon.”
Ah. The feared race of Suntarans.
What I want to know is, why did the seller sell this guy the gun and then call the cops?
All that’s left to do is mitigate
Jul 2nd
In its pure, unadulterated, un-judicially-activated form, the law – criminal and constitutional – is a beautiful thing. Reflecting on the context in which the Constitution was written, and the way in which its application was envisioned is a source of inspiration.
The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated, and no Warrants shall issue, but upon probable cause, supported by Oath or affirmation, and particularly describing the place to be searched, and the persons or things to be seized.
No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or otherwise infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or naval forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offense to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself, nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.
These are the rights of individuals – all individuals and checks against the power of the large governmental entities. The Constitution drew a line and on the site that was protected were placed the flesh and blood individuals, the citizenry and on the side that was being warned and whose authority was being severely limited was the abstract, nameless, faceless Government.
What a beautiful concept: we are individuals first and as individuals, we have rights that will not be subordinate to those of an ever-changing abstract concept.
The concept is dying a quick and painful death. It took only 200 odd years for the pendulum to have shifted completely in the opposite direction. By attrition, or force of sensationalism, or crowdsourced fear, the line drawn by the Constitution has turned around and is now facing those very individuals it sought to protect. The idea of individual liberties is so foreign to most, that comes as a surprise to many that the founders fought and fought hard for them.
These protections and rights exist merely as a thorn in the side of the righteous who seek to punish the evil. US vs. criminals. Speeding this disaster is the learned hand of those who are in charge of interpreting and enforcing the august protections enumerated and implied by the Great Document.
Jurisprudence, over the years, has taken an increasingly narrow approach to individuals’ rights, especially those charged and convicted of criminal offenses. The scope of acceptable intrusion by the Government has increased dramatically over the years and the zone of protection surrounding each individual and his possessions has correspondingly narrowed.
Cops want to use collective knowledge to deem that someone carrying two cell phones is a drug dealer and thus about to embark on a baby-killing spree? Allowed. Cops want to use lies and trickery to trap individuals into confessing to things they may or may not have done? Allowed. Prosecutors make impermissible remarks to juries and comment on a defendant’s exercise of his rights? Frowned upon, but the guy was guilty as sin anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
I fear that if one were to embark on the task of writing a book that enumerated the remaining fundamental protections, it may be just long enough to fill Twitter’s 140 character requirement. The Twitstitution.
Really, what 4th amendment rights does one have anymore? Police have to get a warrant? Well, not always. And even in cases where they really should have, it’s mostly okay. What if the prosecutor circumvents the probable cause requirement and adds charges later that aren’t supported by the evidence? Too bad, prove it at trial.
The role of the defense lawyer has gone from Constitutional law expert to mitigation specialist. Cases are won and lost on the facts, not the law. The law is dead to us. A lifeless corpse that taunts us and obstructs us in our efforts to keep the Govermental power in check. There is no longer any confidence backing up an assertion that an act by the police is “clearly illegal”. Frankly, there is no such thing anymore. Courts will find a way to condone whatever improper action we complain about.
“But he’s only 16, judge”, “he didn’t really threaten the use of a gun”, “he’s only doing this because he has a massive drug problem”.
Go to any court and sit in on any pre-trial negotiation and you’ll hear most, if not all defense lawyers use variations of the above. Mitigation specialists.
That’s the only thing left to us: harkening back to the very individuality that the Constitution sought to protect. Each person is an individual, but instead of talking in terms of protection, we now speak of punishment. Each individual is different and must be punished differently.
Guilt upon arrest is but a foregone conclusion. All that remains to be determined is the term. We don’t practice law anymore; there is nothing noble left. We mitigate.
The law is dead and slowly, it’s killing us all too.
Conviction: the movie
Jul 2nd
Someone turned me on to the trailer for this upcoming movie: Conviction. Based on the true life story of Betty Anne Waters‘ 17 year fight to exonerate her brother, the movie stars Hillary Swank as Waters and Minnie Driver as her best friend Abra Rice.
Abra, incidentally, is now a Connecticut public defender.
Life without possibility of redemption
Jun 17th
I sat in a prison cell yesterday. And not your regular bullpen where they cram in 4 people who’re waiting to go to court. The real deal. Where our clients sleep at night (and often during the day). That of the 60 square foot variety.
There was a bed – a small bed – that was the length of the room. At the foot of the bed a metal toilet, with no cover. Just beyond that the heavy metal door, with a slit for a window. The door was maybe 3 feet wide, if that. At the head of the bed, if you were laying on your right side, you’d be about half a foot away from an ugly metal desk with holes that pretended to be drawers. This could not have been more than a foot long. The bed was flush with one wall. The desk with the opposite.
The bed looked hard, cold and dirty. And that’s it. This particular cell happened to have a window at the head of the bed. A window looking out onto nothing. Any future inhabitant of this particular cell would have it good. It was a single. Across the narrow passageway from this cell was another, identical in every respect except two: it was a double cell and there was no window. (Here’s a post I wrote a while ago about a different take on prisons in a foreign country.)
I didn’t have the courage to ask my escort to have them close the cell door for a minute, locking me in. It was nauseating and claustrophobic enough as it is. Maybe I was having a panic attack, or maybe the air in there was dead, like the spirits of the men that inhabit these cells, but I thought I was going to faint.
I willed myself to stand there, though, for a minute. To look around at the bare walls, the bare desk, the dirty toilet and imagine someone “living” there.
I even briefly closed my eyes and tried to picture myself there, day in and day out, for months, which turned into years, which turned into decades.
Revamped – again
Jun 13th
As you can see, the layout and design has been revamped. It’s still a little buggy, so bear with me as I try to figure it out. As always, if I can’t, I’ll just go back to the old design. Kthxbai.
Change blindness and the fallacy of the all-remembering cop
Jun 13th
Change blindness is a visual perception phenomenon in which the human mind fails to detect pretty significant changes in our surroundings and distorts our memory.
The most recent famous example of change blindness and its relative, inattentional blindness, is the “count the passes” experiment, which I’m sure everyone’s heard of by now (read the NYT review of their book on the subject). What that illustrates is that when our mind is focused on one task, we zero in on it at the expense of most things around it. For the criminal defense lawyer and the criminal justice system, this is a particularly troublesome issue.
Eyewitness misidentification has become the number one cause of false convictions and it’s easy to “see” how. During a particularly stressful event, when combined with weapons focus, the human mind zeroes in on one thing and pretends to see the others. It fills in the gaps as it were and it is on this peripheral vision that faces are remembered and convictions are obtained.
But there’s a problem with remembering faces. Look at this video:
Rell vetoes sentencing commission
Jun 8th
Rell, intent on breaking the world record for vetoes and dumbass moves as Governor before she leaves office this year (can that day come soon enough? I say no), vetoed yet another important criminal justice bill yesterday. The bill, which would have created a sentencing commission to evaluate the state’s statutes and sentencing practices and analyze them for disparity – including those of the racial kind – apparently carried a very hefty price tag, which is what prompted her veto.
The gargantuan sum of $130,000 a year easily dwarfed the $150,000 price tag for each of the 9 new judges that she nominated, that the State didn’t need, but were eventually confirmed.
“While I appreciate the need for review of our sentencing statutes and practices, given our State’s ongoing economic challenges, this is simply the wrong time to create yet another state entity,” Rell said. “I have spent much of the last year examining our state budget to find ways to save money so that we would not have to increase the burden borne by our already struggling taxpayers. Some of the cuts we have made were painful; none were easy.”
She said. I rolled my eyes.
That bus is not for your client
Jun 8th
The internet has changed everything. Every fool with no money has a blog, every newspaper website caters to the lowest common denominator and every twit can Tweet for free. A percentage of these are former and current clients, both gruntled and dis.
Back in the old days, when you walked 20 miles to work, uphill, in blizzards, with no shoes, the only medium for clients to express their displeasure was filing a grievance with the state bar. Now, clients are able to air their grievances in a more public forum, with no restrictions that their complaints be made in good faith or sworn to.
And since you are what the internet says you are, how far can (or should) one go in response, asks Mike C:
What if a former client writes: “My lawyer was terrible. He never returned my calls or e-mails. I had a million-dollar case, and she blew it!”
Some prospective clients might read that blog entry, and thus never call the lawyer. Current clients might get nervous. Other lawyers might decline to refer a case to the bad lawyer.
Under the current Rules of Professional Conduct, it would certainly be unethical for the lawyer to write: “John Smith called me 5 times each day. He asked the same questions over and over again. After evaluating his case through discovery, we realized his case was marginal. We told him to settle the case for $25,000 – nuisance value. He refused. The trial court dismissed the case on summary judgment. Now he’s angry. By the way, you can read the case filings here, here, and here to decide for yourself whether we blew a huge case.”
Does that Rule make sense? A lawyer can lose business. Online reputation matters – not for a lawyer’s ego – but for his business. The law offers trademark protection. A brand matters. A lawyer is only as good as her name. Shouldn’t a lawyer be able to breach some aspects of the attorney-client privilege in order to protect her name?
First off, this really is nothing new, at least for those of us in the high-volume criminal defense business. I’ve had clients tell me they didn’t want me to represent them and wanted me to, in the same week, based on what their then-cellmates told them about me. You are as good as your current client’s former cellmate says you are.
Second, the differences between revealing confidences to defend against a disciplinary proceeding and responding to a blog post or newspaper comment are quite obvious. The grievance proceeding requires you to defend against the accusations, for failing to do so affects your livelihood.
But what of Mike’s point of the reputation of the lawyer in this age where more and more people are relying on the internet to secure representation? I have the wherewithal to explore any concerns I might have about a prospective lawyer with real people who know that lawyer and that lawyer’s work, but might a potential client? Why shouldn’t a lawyer have the ability to respond, albeit in a limited fashion to that Festivus tradition?
Scott’s take is similarly multi-faceted. He, too, recognizes the need to permit the attorney to have the ability to respond in some fashion, but cautions us that it is constrained in many ways by our continuing obligation to our clients:
[In response to Mike's hypothetical] I’m not entirely clear that’s accurate. Waiver of privilege is an all or nothing proposition. Once a client discloses confidential communications to others, it constitutes a waiver. It’s the client’s to waive, and there’s nothing to prevent her from doing so. It may be stupid and foolhardy, and the client may not realize the significance of disclosure and waiver, but it’s her right to let the world know what happened within the sanctity of the attorney/client relationship. Once waived, however, the privilege is extinguished. Like pregnancy, it’s not just a little waived. It’s waived. End of privilege.
Thus, while there may be no ethical or legal impediment to the use of privileged communications to fend off an attack, and while waiver means waiver, we nonetheless have a duty to disclose no more than is necessary to respond, and a duty to do no harm to the client in the process. While the best defense may be a good offense under other circumstances, we’re constrained to use the least harmful defense possible.
Clearly, the limits placed on our ability to lash back at those who might lash out at us puts lawyers at something of a disadvantage in a street fight, and certainly an attack on the internet can bear all the indicia of a street fight.
I don’t know much about the grievance process and the extent of confidential communications and privileged information that one can disclose in response to a grievance, but there is another area of the law in which confidences are routinely disclosed and that’s the post-conviction setting.
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