I just happened to notice this Atlantic piece asking the logical question in the Aaron Swartz aftermath: now what? Having recognized that a problem exists, what are we going to do about it? Or, realistically, what can we do about it? The piece relies on this brief by LawProf Instapundit Glenn Reynolds. It’s only about 6 pages.
The Atlantic piece – and by extension Reynolds’ brief – are a listing of the usual bad ideas – make the state pay the legal bills of acquittees, ban plea bargains altogether (NO! BAD DOG!) – thrown in with some good ones.
But let’s start with where I left off with my previous post: if we are to have a serious discussion, then it should be an honest discussion. One that acknowledges that if the system is indeed flawed, it is flawed when it comes to all people. So when Reynolds writes:
Most of us remain safe. Prosecutors have limited resources, and there are political constraints on egregious overreaching.
And, most of the time, prosecutors can be expected to exercise their discretion soundly. Unfortunately, these limitations on prosecutorial power are likely to be least effective where prosecutors act badly because of politics or prejudice.
Limited resources or not, a prosecutor who is anxious to go after a political enemy will always find sufficient staff to bring charges, and political constraints are least effective where a prosecutor is playing to public passions or hysteria.
It is easy to dismiss him as mighty naive (or professorial?) for believing that there is an “us” or that prosecutors only overreach in political cases. The biggest transgressions occur when no one is looking; outside of the glare of the media and in the dark shadows of the assembly line productions. That is the problem and folks like Reynolds and Conor Friedersdorf at The Atlantic miss the point entirely by assuming that mostly everything is kosher or that due process serves as an effective counter to any improper charging.
But I give them credit for trying because it’s not an easy thing to tackle. The suggestion, ultimately, is that the entire criminal justice system is flawed. And how do we repair it so as it make it more…just.
Two of the ideas proposed by Reynolds (and one by Orin Kerr) deserve scrutiny: giving prosecutors only qualified immunity for their actions and that too only when they act in bad faith (after all, like the law and order crowd likes to say: if you’ve done nothing wrong, you’ve got nothing to fear) and the more intriguing idea: permitting juries and judges to know of plea bargains when sentencing.
Typically judges who sentence after a trial aren’t the same judges who preside over pre-trial negotiations and there’s a a prohibition on that judge knowing the details of the offer. More often than not, the side that wants to keep the pretrial offer secret is the prosecution: and for good reason. Offers before trial are significantly lower than what the same defendant gets after a trial. If judges were made aware of what the parties thought was appropriate, it might deter them from throwing the hammer at defendants. Or maybe we’d still get 100 year sentences. But odds are that some might think twice. This would certainly be the case if juries were given the power to sentence defendants.
Kerr’s idea is equally intriguing: eliminating the jury’s temptation to “split the verdict” when faced with multiple counts:
Multiple overlapping crimes gives prosecutors an unfair advantage at trial that in turn pressures defendants unfairly to take a guilty plea. That’s the case because the jury is easily misled. When the jury sees a multi-count indictment involving many different crimes, the jurors have two natural reactions. First, they think they can “split the difference” and convict on some but not all. This is just wrong, as it turns out; at sentencing, a conviction as to only one crime is treated just as severely as a conviction as to all crimes. But the jury doesn’t know that, giving the prosecution an advantage. Relatedly, the jury likely thinks that the defendant’s conduct is extra serious if it is charged under lots of criminal offenses instead of one. The existence of multiple overlapping crimes therefore gives the prosecutors an unfair advantage; the answer is to narrow that advantage by eliminating entirely duplicative crimes.
If you’ve practiced here in CT – and I’m sure if you haven’t, your state has an equivalent – then you know that the worst offender is the Risk of Injury statute. It means nothing and everything all at once.
But these are piecemeal solutions that are inadequate and incomplete. For these problems with the system that we decry will remain so long as people believe that the system exists for guilty people only. We need to change the perception; to alter the dialogue. Until people stop asking “how can you defend those people?”, the system will remain broken.