Archive for May, 2010

Paying for injustice

Meet Manuel Hidalgo Rodriguez, arrested and convicted in 1995 for child sexual assault that he did not commit. Hidalgo spent 5 years out of a 5 1/2 year sentence before his conviction was reversed and the charges dismissed.

Meet Thomas White, also convicted for child sexual assault and who also spent 5 years in prison before a third jury finally acquitted him in 2005.

But Hidalgo and White have more in common that merely being falsely accused of terrible crimes for which they both spent long years in harsh conditions in prison. Both convictions were obtained by a failure of the system: in Hidalgo’s case, aided by the complete inexperience of his defense attorney in what amounted to a constructive denial of counsel; in White’s, horrifying misconduct by the police and prosecutors to hide exculpatory evidence.

Expanding Graham

In the other criminal justice opinion issued by SCOTUS today, a 6-3 court held in Graham v. Florida that life without parole for juveniles convicted of non-homicide crimes violates the Constitution’s ban on Cruel and Unusual Punishments.  The decision is a beautiful thing, for sure. Combined with Roper, the Supreme Court has now categorically banned the death penalty for juveniles and LWOP for those juveniles convicted of non-homicide crimes.

This, however, has left a gap in the juvenile jurisprudence, one that is sure to be addressed sooner rather than later. What of LWOP for those juveniles who have committed some sort of homicide?

I believe the issue is ripe for pickin’ and there may be enough votes on the Court to hold that such a sentence would violate the Eighth Amendment.

Consider the following quotes. First, the Court sets up the framework under which this claim is to be analyzed:

The present case involves an issue the Court has not considered previously: a categorical challenge to a term-of-years sentence. The approach in cases such as Harmelin and Ewing is suited for considering a gross proportionality challenge to a particular defendant’s sentence, but here a sentencing practice itself is in question. This case implicates a particular type of sentence as it applies to an entire class of offenders who have committed a range of crimes. As a result, a threshold comparison between the severity of the penalty and the gravity of the crime does not advance the analysis. Here, in addressing the question presented, the appropriate analysis is the one used in cases that involved the categorical approach, specifically Atkins, Roper, and Kennedy.

Shunning the case-by-case approach in favor of the “bright line” approach is a trend on the Court and certainly works in favor of those arguing that LWOP for all juveniles is cruel and unusual.

Taking stock of Comstock

[I can't believe no one's made the pun yet]

What Comstock is, what it isn’t and what it might very well be.

First, what Comstock isn’t. Despite the ominous newspaper headlines, it is my opinion – however uninformed – that Comstock does not directly stand for the proposition that it is Constitutionally permissible to indefinitely commit sex offenders beyond the expiration of their criminal sentences.

Justice Breyer’s decision explicitly reserves that question for another day:

“We do not reach or decide any claim that the statute or its application denies equal protection of the laws, procedural or substantive due process, or any other rights guaranteed by the Constitution. Respondents are free to pursue those claims on remand, and any others they have preserved.”

As one commentator notes, there may very well be viable challenges to the Federal statute in the yet-to-come Comstock II or other cases.

What Comstock is: a decision that holds (however unpersuasively and problematically) that civil commitment by the Federal government is a “necessary and proper” means of exercising the federal authority that permits Congress to create federal criminal laws. What that “enumerated power” is, is never mentioned by the majority opinion (the best analogy I’ve seen of this legal trickery is in this post).

Justice Thomas explains this succinctly (yes, I know. Shut up.):

Twice in jeopardy, 40 years apart

Back in 2007, when the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania announced its intent to prosecute William Barnes for the death of officer Walter Barclay, eyebrows were raised. Barnes, you see, had already been tried for the 1966 shooting of Barclay and had been found guilty of attempted murder. Why was he not charged with murder at the first trial? Because Barclay wasn’t dead yet.

He died in 2007, more than 40 years after the shooting. The Commonwealth, already having exacted 26 years from Barnes, now 74,  for the attempted murder, now seeks to exact some more for the eventual death of Ofc. Barclay.

Barnes’ second trial for the act of shooting Barclay began today in Philadelphia. The Commonwealth will attempt to prove that the gunshot wound suffered by Barclay in ’66 – which left him wheelchair bound – caused the urinary tract infection in 2006 that ultimately killed him.

The defense will seek to show the jury that the Commonwealth cannot prove the causal link, relying in part on the fact that Barclay, despite being confined to a wheelchair:

was able to drive a specialized car, walk with braces, earn a college degree, marry and divorce three times and perform sexually, had been in three car accidents and had fallen out of his motorized wheel chair twice during the 41 years that he lived after being shot

Mark Bennett, in a comment to Scott’s post above, asked in 2007:

I must be missing something, because those articles don’t even discuss this question: How does a conviction for attempted murder not jeopardy-bar a prosecution for murder when the victim dies?

Padilla on sex offender registration, indirectly

Back when Padilla v. Kentucky was decided by the United States Supreme Court, the defense bar was quite excited not only by the relief it afforded criminal defendants, but also by the exciting possibility that the Court might be willing to take an honest look at the fictional distinction between direct and collateral consequences of a plea.

Aside from deportation, which the Court described as “long recognized [as] a particularly severe penalty”, there is one other “collateral” consequence that defense lawyers are in a constant battle against. And that is sex offender registration. So it was only a matter of time before some court in the country considered the severity of the consequence of sex offender registration in light of the principles of Padilla.

Thanks to Doc Berman, I came across this very recent New York Supreme Court Court of Appeals decision in NY v. Gravino, which addressed the question of whether sex offender registration is a collateral consequence. A divided court says yes.

While Padilla dealt explicitly with attorney performance, Gravino addressed the issue of whether a plea was knowing, intelligent and voluntary if the trial court did not inform the defendant of the registration requirement.

Despite acknowledging that sex offender registration (especially in New York) is a “severe penalty”, the majority recites the usual “it’s not a penal statute, but merely regulatory” bullshit in order to neatly classify registration as a collateral consequence as opposed to a direct consequence.

But here’s where Padilla comes in. As I mentioned before, Justice Stevens gave us a delicious quote to use and rely on:

Gideon stirs

On Thursday, the New York Court of Appeals issued a 4-3 decision permitting, but narrowing, the NYCLU’s lawsuit [prior post] against 5 counties to proceed. The crux of the claim is not a violation of Strickland , but rather a violation of Gideon itself.

This complaint contains numerous plain allegations that in specific cases counsel simply was not provided at critical stages of the proceedings. The  complaint additionally contains allegations sufficient to justify the inference that these deprivations may be illustrative of significantly more  widespread practices; of particular note in this connection are the allegations that in numerous cases representational denials are premised on  subjective and highly variable notions of indigency, raising possible due process and equal protection concerns. These allegations state a claim, not  for ineffective assistance under Strickland, but for basic denial of the right to counsel under Gideon.

The argument was in two parts: 1) That the public defender system is so under funded that lawyers are provided in name only and that results in a de facto denial of counsel (the Cronic claim); and 2) That the public defender system is so underfunded that there is no way these lawyers provide effective representation of counsel (the Strickland argument).

The court permits the first to proceed while rejecting the second. The Court seems bent on ensuring that these particular plaintiffs don’t backdoor in their ineffective assistance claims, because that is necessarily a post-conviction, fact specific inquiry, whereas the institutional denial of counsel touches on the basic obligation of a State to provide counsel at all.

Collateral preconviction claims seeking prospective relief for absolute, core denials of the right to the assistance of counsel cannot be understood  to be incompatible with Strickland. These are not the sort of contextually sensitive  claims that are typically involved when ineffectiveness is alleged. The basic, unadorned question presented by such claims where as here the defendant-claimants are poor, is whether the State has met its  obligation to provide counsel, not whether under all the circumstances counsel’s performance was inadequate or prejudicial.

It is that last part that is truly noteworthy about this decision: that a court has finally acknowledged that Gideon‘s promise may be going unfulfilled and that states cannot prop up a warm body next to the defendant and be allowed to pass the blush test. Gideon did not make a hollow promise. Time to hold states to their obligations.

The defendant’s right to trial by jury

Article III, Section 2, Clause 3 of the Constitution of the United States states:

The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury; and such trial shall be held in the State where the said crimes shall have been committed; but when not committed within any State, the trial shall be at such place or places as the Congress may by law have directed.

The Sixth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States provides:

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury . . .

The Sixth Amendment was made applicable to the various states through the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. The Connecticut Constitution, in Article I, Section 8 states:

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall have a right … in all prosecutions by indictment or information, to a speedy, public trial by an impartial jury.

This is further codified in Connecticut law in both the practice book and the general statutes. C.G.S. 54-82b provides:

(a) The party accused in a criminal action in the Superior Court may demand a trial by jury of issues which are triable of right by a jury. [...]

(b) In criminal proceedings the judge shall advise the accused of his right to trial by jury at the time he is put to plea and, if the accused does not then claim a jury, his right thereto shall be deemed waived, but if a judge acting on motion made by the accused within ten days after judgment finds that such waiver was made when the accused was not fully cognizant of his rights or when, in the opinion of the judge, the proper administration of justice requires it, the judge shall vacate the judgment and cause the proceeding to be set for jury trial.

Practice Book Section 42-1 provides:

The defendant in a criminal action may demand a trial by jury of issues which are triable of right by jury. If at the time the defendant is put to plea, he or she elects a trial by the court, the judicial authority shall advise the defendant  of his or her right to a trial by jury and that a failure to elect a jury trial at that time may constitute a waiver of that right. If the defendant does not then elect a jury trial, the defendant’s right thereto may be deemed to have been  waived.

The reason I mention all of this is that the other day, I was reading Mark Bennett’s series of interesting posts on jury selection in Texas. He was in the courtroom, not as a participant in the process, and reported the entire voir dire conducted by the prosecutor and pro-se defendant. In his final post, I noted this (which is Mark’s narration of the pro-se defendant speaking to the venirepersons):

AP [prosecutor] is new here, and I had agreed to have case before the judge (objection overruled). I was comfortable with the court system. The court called me a week later . . . (objection sustained). (State refused to waive jury? WTF, AP?)

That got me thinking. As evidenced by the Constitutional provisions listed above, I’ve always believed that the right to trial by jury is the defendant’s and defendant’s alone. Was I mistaken? So I tried to locate the relevant jury waiver provision in Texas’ criminal code. This is what I found:

Art. 1.13. WAIVER OF TRIAL BY JURY.  (a) The defendant in a criminal prosecution for any offense other than a capital felony case in which the State notifies the court and the defendant that it will seek the death penalty shall have the right, upon entering a plea, to waive the right of trial by jury, conditioned, however, that such waiver must be made in person by the defendant in writing in open court with the consent and approval of the court, and the attorney representing the State. The consent and approval by the court shall be entered of record on the minutes of the court, and the consent and approval of the attorney representing the State shall be in writing, signed by him, and filed in the papers of the cause before the defendant enters his plea.

(b) In a capital felony case in which the attorney representing the State notifies the court and the defendant that it will not seek the death penalty, the defendant may waive the right to trial by jury but only if the attorney representing the State, in writing and in open court, consents to the waiver.

That’s certainly a little strange. What confounds the matter further is the very next provision:

Art. 1.14. WAIVER OF RIGHTS.  (a) The defendant in a criminal prosecution for any offense may waive any rights secured him by law except that a defendant in a capital felony case may waive the right of trial by jury only in the manner permitted by Article 1.13(b) of this code.

But what of Article 1.13(a), which lays out the procedure for waiving a jury in a non-capital case? All the language I could find in constitutional jurisprudence assigned the right to a trial by jury to the defendant only. Take, for example, Patton v. United States, a case in which the defense and prosecution agreed to have the defendant tried by 11 instead of 12, after one juror fell sick. Justice Sutherland, for the majority, wrote:

We come, then, to the crucial inquiry: Is the effect of the constitutional provisions in respect of trial by jury to establish a tribunal as a part of the frame of government, or only to guaranty to the accused the right to such a trial? If the former, the question certified by the lower court must, without more, be answered in the negative.

In the light of the foregoing it is reasonable to conclude that the framers of the Constitution simply were intent upon preserving the right of trial by jury primarily for the protection of the accused. If not, and their intention went beyond this and included the purpose of establishing the jury for the trial of crimes as an integral and inseparable part of the court, instead of one of its instrumentalities, it is strange that nothing to that effect appears in contemporaneous literature or in any of the debates or innumerable discussions of the time. This is all the more remarkable when we recall the minute scrutiny to which every provision of the proposed Constitution was subjected. The reasonable inference is that the concern of the framers of the Constitution was to make clear that the right of trial by jury should remain inviolable, to which end no language was deemed too imperative. That this was the purpose of the Third Article is rendered highly probable by a consideration of the form of expression used in the Sixth Amendment.

The Court then concludes:

Upon this view of the constitutional provisions we conclude that Article III, Section 2, is not jurisdictional, but was meant to confer a right upon the accused which he may forego at his election. To deny his power to do so, is to convert a privilege into an imperative requirement.

Lending further support to the argument that the right is the defendant’s alone is the court’s discussion of the ability of the defendant to waive any damn right he pleases:

A defendant is supposed to understand his rights, and may be aided, if he so desires, by counsel to advise him. There are many legal provisions for his security and benefit which he may dispense with absolutely, as, for instance, his right to plead guilty and submit to sentence without any trial whatsoever.

So how does one square this core Constitutional right, which by all accounts, seems to be confer the benefit solely on the defendant along with the ability to waive this right if he so chooses, with what appears to be a prohibition in Texas on the waiver of this right without the permission of the State? Have I misread Texas’ statute? Perhaps Mark can chime in here and clarify things. Do other states have a similar requirement?

[Note: I know that caselaw establishes there is no fundamental right to trial by jury where the punishment does not exceed six months and yes, death is different and in capital cases, the consent of all parties is required to waive a jury.]

[Note 2: If nothing else, the Patton case and State v. Gannon - a 1902 Connecticut case  - make for fascinating reading. They both explore the deep and rich history of the Constitution and their underpinnings of the right to a jury trial and the process by which that right came to be recognized.]

Pretextual trespass

In an effort to combat drug crime in “minority high crime neighborhoods”, police long ago adopted the “pretextual stop”, which was later condoned by SCOTUS in Whren. In Whren, Scalia wrote:

Not only have we never held, outside the context of inventory search or administrative inspection (discussed above), that an officer’s motive invalidates objectively justifiable behavior under the Fourth Amendment; but we have repeatedly held and asserted the contrary. In United States v. Villamonte-Marquez, 462 U. S. 579, 584, n. 3 (1983), we held that an otherwise valid warrantless boarding of a vessel by customs officials was not rendered invalid “because the customs officers were accompanied by a Louisiana state policeman, and were following an informant’s tip that a vessel in the ship channel was thought to be carrying marihuana.” We flatly dismissed the idea that an ulterior motive might serve to strip the agents of their legal justification. In United States v. Robinson, 414 U. S. 218 (1973), we held that a traffic-violation arrest (of the sort here) would not be rendered invalid by the fact that it was “a mere pretext for a narcotics search,” id., at 221, n. 1; and that a lawful postarrest search of the person would not be rendered invalid by the fact that it was not motivated by the officer-safety concern that justifies such searches, see id., at 236. See also Gustafson v. Florida, 414 U. S. 260, 266 (1973). And in Scott v. United States, 436 U. S. 128, 138 (1978), in rejecting the contention that wiretap evidence was subject to exclusion because the agents conducting the tap had failed to make any effort to comply with the statutory requirement that unauthorized acquisitions be minimized, we said that “[s]ubjective intent alone . . . does not make otherwise lawful conduct illegal or unconstitutional.” We described Robinson as having established that “the fact that the officer does not have the state of mind which is hypothecated by the reasons which provide the legal justification for the officer’s action does not invalidate the action taken as long as the circumstances, viewed objectively, justify that action.” 436 U. S., at 136, 138.

While the pretextual stop is almost exclusively thought of in the motor vehicle context (what with it being a stop and all…), I recently came across the use of a pretext to police drug activity in the non motor vehicle area. [A Lexis search for trespass and Whren and trespass and pretext yielded no meaningful results. Yes, I am that much of a nerd.]

Apparently, police departments in some parts of the state have taken to entering into “criminal trespass agreements” (or some such variation: the public defender I got this from wasn’t entirely clear so blame him, not me). What this essentially means is this: the property owner will enter into a contract with the police department, giving them permission to enforce the criminal trespass statutes. The property owner then provides the police department with a list of the properties and the names of all the residents in those locations. There may or may not be signs to that effect posted on the property.

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