Category Archives: criminal law principles

Because even children aren’t as important as convictions

I have written before that despite the successes being touted by the criminal justice head honchos here in Connecticut, we still treat our children differently when it comes to those that are alleged to have committed the most serious of crimes.

According to law in Connecticut, anyone 14 and above who is alleged to have committed a Class A (murder, felony murder, arson, kidnapping, aggravated sexual assault) or a Class B felony (sexual assault, robbery 1, assault 1, risk of injury) is automatically transferred to adult court. For instance, in 2012, approximately 209 children between 14-17 had their criminal cases transferred to adult court.

A 2002 study [PDF] commissioned to consider the impact of the 1995 legislation mandating automatic transfers revealed that 36% of all juveniles1 transferred to adult court2 between 1997-2002 were sentenced to incarceration. That equals 141 children in Connecticut who got jail time in adult court, with adult convictions, with adult conviction consequences. That’s 141 too many for me, but those with the authority to change things seem to disagree.

[If anyone has updated statistics, I'd love to see them. Further, if you're a legislator, request updated statistics from OLR - specifically ask for a breakdown of automatic transfers, discretionary transfers, the ages of the defendants at the time of the commission of the offense and the sentences received.]

But these again, are the people who, had protection of children really been their goal, would have seen it fit to fix a  glaring problem in our General Statutes. In a moment of wisdom that is all too rare these days, our legislature saw fit to enact this legislation:

(a) Any admission, confession or statement, written or oral, made by a child under the age of sixteen to a police officer or Juvenile Court official shall be inadmissible in any proceeding concerning the alleged delinquency of the child making such admission, confession or statement unless made by such child in the presence of the child’s parent or parents or guardian and after the parent or parents or guardian and child have been advised (1) of the child’s right to retain counsel, or if unable to afford counsel, to have counsel appointed on the child’s behalf, (2) of the child’s right to refuse to make any statements, and (3) that any statements the child makes may be introduced into evidence against the child.

That’s a pretty intelligent piece of legislation which seeks to protect a child of a certain age from being subjected to the very adult world of police interrogations without a parent or guardian being present.

Except it doesn’t apply if the case is then transferred to adult court. In 2010, in State v. Canady, our supreme court revisited this issue and a prior ruling in State v. Ledbetter.

In both Canady and Ledbetter, the juvenile defendants argued that they too, should receive the protection of the above statute because it simply doesn’t make any sense that the legislature intended to offer these protections only in situations where the consequences were minimal. Logic dictates, they argued, that children are more deserving of protections like the right to have a parent present and the right to have an attorney present when the consequences expose them to adult convictions and adult jail time and registration as a sexual offender.

You’d think, said the supreme court, but it ain’t so:

The defendant also contends that our interpretation of § 46b-137(a) in Ledbetter is inconsistent with the primary purpose underlying the enactment of that statute, namely, “to provide needed protection to children who are subjected to questioning by the police.” State v. Ledbetter, supra, 263 Conn. at 16, 818 A.2d 1. As the defendant maintains, those rights are no less implicated when a juvenile is tried in criminal court than when he is tried in juvenile court. Nevertheless, as we explained in rejecting the identical claim in Ledbetter, “[w]e agree, of course, that limiting the scope of § 46b-137(a) to proceedings in juvenile court necessarily will deprive some children of the protections to which they otherwise would be entitled under § 46b-137(a). To avoid this result, however, the defendant [in Ledbetter] would have us construe the words, `in any proceeding concerning the alleged delinquency of the child’ … to mean in any proceeding concerning the child. We may not disregard the words `the alleged delinquency of,’ because `[w]e presume that the legislature had a purpose for each sentence, clause or phrase in a legislative enactment, and that it did not intend to enact meaningless provisions.’

And then, of course, the reality laid bare:

Furthermore, Ledbetter was decided more than six years ago, and the legislature has taken no steps to amend § 46b-137(a) in response to our holding in that case. “[A]lthough legislative inaction is not necessarily legislative affirmation … we … presume that the legislature is aware of [this court's] interpretation of a statute, and that its subsequent nonaction may be understood as a validation of that interpretation.”

In other words: the legislature could have clarified this mess, but they haven’t, so it’s pretty clear that they don’t think children should have protections against police interrogations if those confessions can be used against them to secure convictions in adult court. Shameful.

Where’s the surprise, though? They are the same people who’ve seen it fit to leave the discretion to save or ruin a child’s life in the hands of prosecutors and only prosecutors. A judge cannot block the transfer to adult court; a judge cannot require that the case be returned to juvenile court and a judge cannot sentence a juvenile to anything less than the law requires.

We all know what happens when prosecutors are  given that sort of unfettered discretion and power. And if you think they won’t flex their muscle just because the defendant is 14 years old, well you aren’t paying attention.

This is all the more puzzling in light of the fact that our legislature has, in certain circumstances, given judges the power to ignore the mandatory-minimum sentences:

The execution of the mandatory minimum sentence imposed by the provisions of this subsection shall not be suspended, except the court may suspend the execution of such mandatory minimum sentence if at the time of the commission of the offense (1) such person was under the age of eighteen years

Why such a clause cannot apply to all juveniles in adult court in all crimes is beyond me. Keep the maximum intact and let a judge decide what the appropriate sentence is in each case.

And why should anyone need to fix these problems, right? It’s not like juveniles who commit crimes can go on and become productive members of society. It’s not like they become social workers or victim advocates or reporters or pediatricians.

It’s not like children are, you know, children.

Unmuting Gideon’s trumpet

Pictured: a trumpet

Pictured: a trumpet

It’s fitting that in this, the 50th anniversary year of Gideon v. Wainwright, a federal judge issues an opinion finally giving teeth to the noble ideal that the indigent must be given access to attorneys paid for by the State and that those attorneys must be competent and able to do an adequate job.

There has been a disheartening trend over the years of state and county systems buckling under the weight of cases, unsupported by the required funding. It is, after all, a rather unpopular thing to fund. The trope that public defenders are overworked isn’t an invention out of whole cloth. Public defenders and assigned counsel aren’t paid enough and are given far too many cases to handle.

Almost invariably, though, when push comes to lawsuit, the state or county loses, because it’s almost indisputable that they’re providing inadequate resources. The latest judge to find the same is Judge Robert Lasnik of the Western District of Washington.

In a lawsuit filed by the ACLU against two cities in Washington – Mount Vernon and Burlington – the judge sided with the plaintiffs finding that [PDF]:

Who’s the people?

smbc-20131203

Did you hear the one about the woman who couldn’t fly to testify at a trial about the government’s “no-fly list” because the government put her on a “no-fly list”?

No? It happened this past weekend, when Raihan Mustafa Kamal, the daughter of the woman suing the Department of Homeland Security – and incidentally a U.S. citizen – tried to board a plane to San Francisco in Kuala Lumpur and was told by Malaysian Airways that the Department of Homeland Security had put her on a no-fly list.

Not an Onion article. I swear.

The Identity Project blog is covering the trial, which kicked off earlier this week with a ridiculous situation, highlighted by BoingBoing. Apparently, one of the people set to testify in the case, Ibrahim’s oldest daughter, Raihan Mustafa Kamal (an American citizen, born in the US), was blocked from boarding her flight to the US to appear at the trial, and told that she was on the no fly list as well. Kamal, a lawyer, was an eye witness to her mother being blocked from boarding her flight. The US knew that Kamal was set to testify and from all indications, in a move that appears extremely petty, appears to have purposely blocked her from flying to the US. Kamal was directly told by the airline that DHS had ordered them not to let Kamal to board. The airline even gave her a phone number for a Customs and Border Patrol office in Miami, telling her to call that concerning her not being able to board.

Just so you understand what’s happening: the Federal government is being sued. The Federal government, in defending that lawsuit, has apparently just blocked the opposite party from providing a witness. It’s as if the state charged you with murder, but you have a rock solid alibi of your family, so on the day your family was going to testify, they took your family and moved them to Guantanamo and then pretended like nothing happened and they didn’t know anything.

Can the prosecution prevent you from giving discovery to a defendant?

In January 2010, new rules were enacted [PDF] in Connecticut ostensibly in an effort to do away with problematic “open file”1 policies of prosecutors and to ensure that all individuals charged with crimes in the State of Connecticut had ready, Constitutionally required access to the evidence the prosecution claimed to have2.

As I wrote in January 2010:

Each court here in the State was its own fiefdom prior to this change. In some jurisdictions you’d get all discovery on the first court date, without even having to ask, and in others the only way you’d get to see a police report is if you sat in the prosecutor’s office and read it – and perhaps copied it by hand – while they stood over your shoulder. Some jurisdictions would give you whatever you wanted and others wouldn’t give you what you were entitled to.

The system was a mess. Prosecutors in certain jurisdictions kept two files: one their public “open file” and another, their real file. Guess which one had all the relevant documents and information in their possession and which one didn’t.

This is an issue of Constitutional importance because integral to our system of justice is the right to notice: to be informed of and aware of the charges, allegations and supporting evidence so that one may properly defend against them.

However, even with the enactment of these rules making uniform the disclosure of discovery, there was a big problem that was overlooked as part of the compromise. The discovery rules prohibit giving copies of the documents, reports, statements and records to the person with the greatest individual stake in the outcome of the case: the accused.

In order for the man charged with the crime to be able to get his own copy of the allegations and peruse them at his own leisure, the prosecutor must permit and barring that, a judge.

Many in the defense bar argued back then that this was problematic and once again last week, the problem erupted again.

Unsurprising to most, the practice of permitting defendants to have a copy of their own discovery is just as arbitrary and haphazard as it was before the rule changes.

Some prosecutors office routinely grant the requests and some offices routinely deny. Some judges grant in all cases while some judges change their tune depending on the position of the prosecution and even then not always so.

So we end up with a patchwork system of discovery denial and defendants throughout the state have different access to their own discovery than their cell mate, all depending on which jurisdiction they’re in.

It is incredibly hard to explain to a person accused of serious crimes by the state that:

  1. You are in possession of witness statements that implicate him and police reports that tie it all together;
  2. But you cannot give it to him.
  3. He can read it in front of you, but he cannot take it with him.
  4. He must rely on his memory in a correctional institution to recall all the details and to become well-versed with his own case, because he is not allowed to have any participation in the defense of his liberty and freedom;
  5. Especially when his cell-mate has 3 boxes of legal materials.

As numerous ethics opinions and judicial decisions have affirmed, the file and everything it contains does not belong to a lawyer. It belongs, unmistakably, to the individual party. Lawyers aren’t even parties to the criminal case.

There is no legal basis for withholding these documents from the individual, who must feel like he is intentionally being kept in the dark and blocked from the process of justice.

If the client demands of you, the criminal defense attorney, that he receive a copy of his file, I am unsure that you can refuse. It certainly would be a greater concern of mine that I might be held in violation of the rules of professional conduct than a judge or prosecutor getting upset with me that I flouted a Practice Book rule.

Of course, the question – just as with this scenario – is whether anyone will make that stand or will there always be some compromise worked out?3

It is a ridiculous burden to place on criminal defense attorneys and yet another sign of how the business of our justice system is conducted in full view of and in full neglect of the individual charged with a criminal offense.

The Harmless Writ: whether you get due process depends on how guilty you are

In The Federalist, Alexander Hamilton argued that the Constitution should provide for the writ [of habeas corpus] “in the most ample manner” because it served as a bulwark against “arbitrary methods of prosecuting pretended offenses [and] arbitrary punishments upon arbitrary convictions.” The drafters of the Constitution imbedded it in Article I before adopting the Bill of Rights.

The Supreme Court has attested to the writ’s significance on many occasions. At different times, the Court has declared that habeas corpus is intended “to liberate an individual from unlawful imprisonment,” a procedure for “securing to the petitioners their constitutional rights,” and “the best and only sufficient defense of personal freedom,” which, if withdrawn, “risk[s] injury to an important interest in human liberty.”

Most recently, the Court described the writ of habeas corpus as a “vital instrument” to securing “freedom from unlawful restraint,” such freedom being “a fundamental precept of liberty.”

Taken, once again, from this law review article [PDF]. To those who don’t know, a petition for writ of habeas corpus is a post-conviction1 avenue to challenge the legality of their incarceration.

As the legendary Judge Weinstein quoted in his report on 500 habeas corpus cases:

The writ tests only whether a prisoner has been accorded due process, not whether he is guilty.

Because, at one point in time, in this country and this legal system, we valued the process as much as the outcome. We placed emphasis on doing things correctly, because we possibly recognized that we all weren’t so blissfully immune from the powerful crosshairs of a runaway government. To that end, judges across the various states and in the federal system were given broad authority to hear these “habeas petitions” challenging the legality of convictions.

Concomitantly, they were given broad powers to fashion remedies, because the harm caused by a violation of a Constitutional right must be made whole as completely as possible.

In Hilton v. Braunskill, Chief Justice Rehnquist wrote

Federal habeas corpus practice, as reflected by the decisions of this Court, indicates that a court has broad discretion in conditioning a judgment granting habeas relief.

So, for example:

Riggs v. Fairman, 399 F.3d 1179 (9th Cir.2005), a district court has considerable discretion in fashioning a remedy tailored to the injury suffered from the constitutional violation, and a court must consider the unique facts and circumstances of a particular case; Jeanty v. Bulger, 204 F.Supp.2d 1366 (S.D.Fla.2002), a court granting a writ of habeas corpus may also issue an injunction in aid of the writ; Gall v. Parker, 231 F.3d 265 (6th Cir.2000), a habeas court has broad discretion in fashioning habeas relief; Hannon v. Maschner, 981 F.2d 1142 (10th Cir.1992), a district court may exercise its broad authority in habeas cases to grant any relief it deems necessary, including 638*638 permanent discharge of a successful habeas petitioner; Hilton v. Braunskill, 481 U.S. 770, 107 S.Ct. 2113, 95 L.Ed.2d 724 (1987), federal courts have largest power to control and direct the form of judgment entered in cases brought up on habeas corpus; Jean v. Meissner, 90 F.R.D. 658 (S.D.Fla.1981), where appropriate, a habeas court may grant injunctive, declaratory and mandatory relief; Hobson v. Murray, 485 F.Supp. 1340 (E.D.Va.1980), federal courts are not narrowly restricted in fashioning an appropriate remedy on granting petition for writ of federal habeas corpus relief but instead, the court is charged to dispose of the matter as law and justice require; U.S. ex. rel. Marrero v. Warden, Lewisburg Penitentiary, 483 F.2d 656 (3rd Cir.1973), immediate and unconditional release is not the only remedy available in a habeas corpus proceeding.

Gentry v. Deuth. In Connecticut, this power, which derives from the habeas corpus court being a “court of equity” is identical to the power of the federal court. There are a set of statutes in this state, duly enacted by the legislature, that create special “habeas corpus courts”2 In CT, the legislature deemed it efficient to consolidate all these petitions in one courthouse in Rockville and assign 2-3 judges there to hear and dispose of all these cases. When I say “habeas court”, I’m referring to a judge assigned to sit as a habeas judge by the administration of the judicial branch. Once a judge has been administratively assigned to assume that role for a period of 2 or 3 years3, the judge takes on the duties, responsibilities and powers of the habeas corpus court which are given to it either by the common law (all the quotes above) or by statute, which states:

(a) The court or judge hearing any habeas corpus shall proceed in a summary way to determine the facts and issues of the case, by hearing the testimony and arguments in the case, and shall inquire fully into the cause of imprisonment and thereupon dispose of the case as law and justice require.

Emphasis added by me. Because as of today, that bolded portion is functionally excised from the law books and placed in the metaphorical trash heap which the CT Supreme Court is doing a fine job of filling with your and my individual rights and liberties.

In a decision today [PDF] in H.P.T. v. Commissioner that is one in a long line of utterly confused and confusing decisions about what, exactly, one must do in order to correct a Constitutional wrong when it comes to bad advice given by an individual’s lawyer, the court effectively divests these “habeas corpus” courts of their long-standing and inherent power to fashion the appropriate remedy.

This supreme court, for some reason, has gotten it into its head for over a decade now, that impartial habeas courts whose job is to determine whether a person has been “accorded due process”, not to sit and once again decide “whether he is guilty” are the wrong jurists to determine just what is to be done once they have decided that there was no due process.

A habeas court, generally, decides three things:

  1. Was there a Constitutional violation?
  2. Was there harm to the individual?
  3. How do we fix it?

There is absolutely no precedent whatsoever for questions 1 & 2 to be decided by one court and question 3 to be answered by another court altogether. And yet here we are in CT where this is precisely what has happened.

Here’s what the court wrote:

the proper remedy remains the same in most cases, namely, remanding the case to the trial court, which is vested with the discretion to [return the individual to pre-harm status]

Except, as we have seen just above, it is the habeas court, not the trial court that is “vested with the discretion”.

In order for its proposition, this opinion in H.P.T. cites only two cases4. One is its own opinion from last year in Ebron v. Commissioner, which is based primarily on a (deliberate?) misreading of Lafler and Frye and Lafler itself. The problem is that the SCOTUS cases of Lafler and Frye deal with setups where the trial court and the habeas court are one and the same, which is clearly not the scenario here in Connecticut.

So, in this opinion today, the CT Supreme Court has, without being asked to or without any due consideration, effectively repealed a statute duly passed by the State legislature. It has done so for one reason and one reason only:

In our view, the determination of the appropriate remedy will, in most cases, more properly be made by the trial court than by the habeas court because the former generally will have greater experience than the latter in crafting criminal sentences and, in some cases, may have access to information about the petitioner and the crime that is not available to the habeas court.

In other words, because the trial judge will know if he’s a really bad guy who needs to be locked up. The beauty of having an independent court not only evaluate the harm, but then also direct the remedy is that by virtue of being independent, the court has no stake in the game. It is not being asked to second guess or explain its own decision making.

Remember that the trial judge is the one that presided over the case when it was initially pending. This is the judge who may have ruled on discovery requests and, more importantly, conveyed plea bargain offers to the individual’s lawyer. This is the judge who was informed of the vagaries of the case and the strength of the evidence of guilt, or lack thereof. This is a judge who has formed an opinion of the individual’s guilt.

The supreme court says today, in stark contrast to centuries of habeas corpus jurisprudence, that guilt is relevant to determining whether an individual should be afforded the protection of the Constitution against illegal convictions.

The court affirms that as long as someone is guilty, it doesn’t matter how that conviction was obtained.

A Constitutional harm is being weighed not against the principle that was violated or the actual harm caused to an individual, but against the character of that person.

What this decision today does, is give rise to a scenario where questions 1 and 2 above may be answered in the affirmative and question 3 may be answered by a judge with an emotional stake in the outcome who might proffer a middle finger by way of remedy.

We may end up with a situation with absolutely no relief for a proven Constitutional violation. A harm without a remedy is no harm at all.

This court has managed to take the “best and only sufficient defense of personal freedom” and turn it into a harmless piece of paper.

—–

The petulance of power

petulant

Let’s lay it out there: who here doesn’t believe that anyone arrested for a crime is automatically guilty of it? Who here doesn’t believe that there is a very good reason someone’s been arrested: they must’ve done something. Who here doesn’t believe that the system is a necessary inconvenience; a rigmarole we must go through before we arrive at the “truth” that everyone’s known about since the time of arrest.

The legal system – and the criminal justice system in particular – is increasingly viewed as an annoying detour on what should be a very short road from arrest to incarceration. If an arrestee is later found guilty by a jury, well then, I told you so. If an arrestee turns into an acquittee, it doesn’t mean he didn’t do it, just that the State couldn’t prove it. What has come before me, I do not know1.

And while it may be excusable for the masses to believe that the system is a technicality, it is exceptionally shameful for those educated in the law and charged with its conveyance to similarly believe so.

While this desire to dispense with the due process of law because we know better is foul when it emanates from law professors2, it is particularly odious when it extrudes from the pores of our own Champions of Justice: a terrible habit that seems to routinely recur.

Prosecutors can’t seem to keep their hands out of the misconduct jar. And when they engage in this misconduct, they do it over and over again, and indignantly soBecause they know better. Because they know how the system really works and how defense attorneys and the “constitution” are just impediments and tricks that prevent them from doing real justice: putting people who they’ve decided are rapists and murderers behind bars.

They have the power to decide who is a criminal and who is not and by God they’ve decided that long before they start to pick a jury.

Take Sharmese Hodge. A prosecutor in Danbury, Connecticut, who prosecuted a man named Michael Maguire. Hodge alleged that Maguire had sexually assaulted an eight-year old. In fact Hodge was so sure Maguire was guilty of this hyenous3 crime that she said the following4 [PDF] to the jury:

Defense counsel concluded his argument by stating: “I don’t ask you for pity. I don’t ask you for mercy. I ask you for justice. I ask you to set [the defendant] free.”

The prosecutor began her rebuttal closing argument as follows: “Ladies and gentlemen, that’s not what he’s asking you for. What he’s asking you for is to condone child abuse. What he’s asking you for is to allow a world in which a forty-one year old man sticks his hand down the front of an eight year old’s pants, claims to tickle her . . . [t]akes his hand out, smells it while his erect penis is sticking out of his pants, and, because he did that to an eight year old child, because he did it in a room where no one else was present, because he did in it in a house where mom and dad were separated and there was a woman staying the night . . . you can’t find him guilty. That’s what defense [counsel and the defendant want] you to believe. That’s what they want you to do. They want you to condone child abuse in this courtroom. They don’t want you to look at that little girl that sat on the stand and testified before you . . . . They don’t want you to look at her testimony. . . . They want you to say, hey, guess what? Because she’s eight [years old] and it was just her [testimony alone, you should find the defendant not guilty].”

After asserting that defense counsel had “lied to [the victim]” when he told her that his questions were not intended to trick her, the prosecutor returned to her earlier theme, stating: “So when [defense counsel] sits here and says to you today, we’re not here to condone child abuse or we’re not trying to beat up . . . on the [victim], listen to that. . . . Is he telling you the truth . . . when he says that?”

Finally, the prosecutor made the following argument with respect to the defendant’s own testimony: “I would assume what you wanted to hear was the truth, not a bunch of excuses, not . . . a big cloud of smoke and mirrors . . . . You wanted to hear the truth. That’s not what you heard. You heard a . . . coached conversation between a defense attorney and his client.” The prosecutor further argued: “[I]t’s not a secret that child abuse is a crime. But what counsel’s asking you to do is to say that . . . child abuse that happens in secret is legal, and that is not the law. I ask you to find the defendant guilty . . . .”

In addition, during the trial, Hodge and the defense attorney Norm Pattis had agreed that the interview of the complainant should be edited to remove portions that did not deal with the current allegations5. Pattis asked the interviewer if he had asked the complainant about inconsistencies in the story (he had not). Hodge then argued in front of the jury that the interviewer indeed had asked about those inconsistencies, but it was in the redacted portion of the interview that the jury was not allowed to see.

Which is not a misrepresentation but a blatant lie.

Why, if you must ask yourself, would a prosecutor argue to a jury that the defendant is asking them to condone child abuse? Why would the prosecutor make an argument so beyond the pale?

Because she believes it. Because she believes it and also believes that juries aren’t to be trusted. Because she knows that her best bet at “winning” is getting people angry. Because emotion is the surest way to a conviction. Because she has decided that Maguire has done wrong and she’ll be damned if she lets due process get in the way of a conviction.

Fortunately, this time our supreme court intervened6:

We agree with the defendant that the prosecutor’s repeated assertions, during her rebuttal closing argument, that the defendant and defense counsel were asking the jury to “condone child abuse” and to find “that . . . child abuse that happens in secret is legal,” and, further, that defense counsel was lying when he stated otherwise, were highly improper and intended not only to appeal to the jurors’ emotions but also to demean the defendant and defense counsel in the eyes of the jurors. In characterizing the defense theory of the case as she did, the prosecutor sought to demonstrate, unfairly, and without a factual basis, that the defense was illegitimate and wholly unworthy of consideration, for no juror reasonably could be expected to credit a defense predicated on condonation or approval of child sexual abuse.

While Mr. Maguire gets a new trial7. it seems that there are no consequences for Ms. Hodge, who appears free to repeat her questionable behavior.

This prosecutorial hubris is not an isolated incident. Defendants and defense counsel are not immune to the petulance of prosecutors. As a jurist, if you stray too far outside the line, you may find yourself banished to traffic court - a tactic seemingly only employed by prosecutors in San Diego8 - or the subject of a 2-year long inquiry into your impartiality. All because you rule in favor of defendants. Another way of saying that is ‘you rule in favor of individual rights and the rule of law.’ But no one says that. You’re partial and need to be banished if you rule for defendants and prosecutors will spend countless hours writing 70-page complaints against you9.

If none of this bothers you, ask yourself why. Even if you are that convinced of the infallibility of individuals who are given this extreme power, doesn’t their petulance and arrogance at being questioned give you pause?

—–

Restoring sanity to child sex cases

For as long as I can remember, there has been one fundamental truth in Connecticut if you are charged with a crime involving a sexual assault: you’re screwed1.

There’s the “liberal” standard of admitting prior sexual assault allegations in a case involving sexual assault, there’s straight up “once a sexual assault criminal, always any other type of criminal” and the almost unhindered admission of any type of “expert” testimony of an “expert” who claims to be an “expert” in the area of child sexual abuse [read: anecdotal evidence predicated solely on confirmation bias] despite a somewhat half-hearted effort to walk that back just ever so slightly and always distinguishably2 and then there’s the only-salvageable-by-judicial-fiat-Risk-of-Injury-statute, which is probably the most dangerous statute for due process and individual liberty and freedom that exists in Connecticut.