ct state law
Free-ish
Jan 12th
Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for Georgia and Justice Thomas, I wouldn’t have much to blog about. Having fulfilled the Thomas quota for the night, I now move on to that rotten peach of a state, which seems to be continually perplexed at the existence of the thing called “the indigent defendant” and completely at a loss to deal with them and their pesky “constitutional” rights.
Why just yesterday, the Georgia Supreme Court heard oral argument in a case where the issue, as framed by the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, was:
whether the state’s public defender system can ethically provide and — and also afford — conflict-free representation for thousands of indigent clients.
Go ahead, shed that tear. More, from the concisely named GeorgiaCriminalAppellateLawBlog (a LexBlog production, natch):
So, it came to pass that Michael Edwards, the leader of a circuit public defender’s office in South Georgia came to oral argument at the Supreme Court yesterday where he sat at the same table with an Assistant Attorney General, a prosecutor. Both the prosecutor and the the “public defender” appeared as co-counsel to argue against a bar rule regarding imputed conflicts in the representation of the poor.
What is this cataclysmic event that brought the two sides together? An ethics opinion [PDF], opining rather uncontroversially that:
Lawyers employed in the circuit public defender office in the same judicial circuit may not represent co-defendants when a single lawyer would have an impermissible conflict of interest in doing so.
In plain-speak-ese, if you – an individual lawyer – can’t represent co-defendants at the same time due to a conflict of interest, then neither can anyone else from your office. Not groundbreaking, not so far beyond the pale that it required the unholy union of a public defender and an attorney general.
The United States Supreme Court has long maintained that “a criminal defendant is entitled to be represented by an attorney free from conflicts of interest”. Wood v. Georgia, Strickland v. Washington, Cuyler v. Sullivan…I could go on and on. In fact, I can’t think of an ethical duty that is more important for the criminal defense attorney than this one to provide conflict-free representation. Just as the prosecutor’s duty is to seek justice (go ahead, chortle), ours is to our client and only to our client.
Yet it is this very duty that seems to give defense attorneys the most trouble. It is this unambiguous, bright line, don’t-touch-with-someone-else’s-10-foot-pole duty that somehow turns into a jumbled, confusing incomprehensible mess when it works its way through the neurons of public defender officials. It was this precise issue that the Connecticut Appellate Court considered last October (albeit erroneously concluding there wasn’t a conflict).
How then, given the Constitutional right and the ethical obligation, could the public defender’s office argue that it shouldn’t be required to provide this conflict-free resolution? The answer, as always, is money.
Stunningly, the explanation from the Georgia public defender isn’t that the right doesn’t exist, but that he can’t afford to provide it:
Mr. Edwards pointed out that he can’t afford to engage in egg-headed “philosophical” or “academic” discussions as a GPDSC bureaucrat. He has to be pragmatic about all this. We can’t afford to get off on this business about right and wrong. If you want conflict-free representation, then either stop getting accused of crime or stop being poor.
He didn’t say that last bit, but he might as well have. Public defenders have enough of a PR problem as it is. Siding with the state on whether to provide our clients conflict-free representation isn’t really helping our cause.
Look, I get it. There is only so much money and there are only so many resources. The answer, however, isn’t to capitulate and argue that our clients should be entitled to conflict-free-ish representation, but instead to do what we’re supposed to: stand up for our clients and demand the State to adequately fund the prosecutions they seem so happy to initiate. If, in this no-brainer of a situation, we public defenders take positions that are clearly contrary to our clients’ interests, then is it any wonder that they refuse to trust us and call us pawns of the prosecution?
The duty isn’t ambiguous or predicated on the availability of funds. Free isn’t free-ish.
CT death penalty nothing but arbitrary
Jan 9th
Only today did I stumble across this October 2011 study [PDF] [also available here] on the arbitrariness of the death penalty in CT (via the NYT), which seems to be an update of this 2007 study. Both are by Yale and Stanford lawprof John Donohue, hired by the public defenders office and the attorneys representing death row inmates in the long-ongoing racial disparity litigation here in CT.
The study is remarkable in its breadth and scope; it analyzed 4686 murder cases spanning 34 years to see whether the application of the death penalty was arbitrary in any fashion. The results are telling and a sizeable slap across the face of The Constitution State. The NYT sums up the numbers nicely:
Of those [4686 murders], 205 were death-eligible cases that resulted in some kind of conviction, either through a plea bargain or conviction at trial. The arbitrariness started at the charging level: nearly a third of these death-eligible cases were not charged as capital offenses as they could have been, but as lesser crimes. Sixty-six defendants were convicted of capital murder, 29 went to a hearing for a death sentence, nine death sentences were sustained and one person was executed.
In order to evaluate the arbitrariness of the imposition of the death penalty, Prof. Donohue devised an egregiousness scale and applied it to each case:
It considered four factors: victim suffering (like duration of pain); victim characteristics (like age, vulnerability); defendant’s culpability (motive, intoxication or premeditation); and the number of victims. He enlisted students from two law schools to rate each case (based on fact summaries without revealing the case’s outcome or the race of the defendant or victim) on a scale from 1 to 3 (most egregious) for each of the four factors. The raters also gave each case an overall subjective assessment of egregiousness, from 1 (low) to 5 (high), to ensure that more general reactions could be captured.
The results are either stunning or completely unsurprising, depending on your point of view or naivete. For example, the study completely undermines the most often repeated defense of the death penalty in CT and elsewhere: that it’s reserved for only the “worst of the worst”. As this NYT graphic demonstrates, the study found that only one of the 32 “most egregious” crimes in CT resulted in the imposition of the death penalty. Further, the study found no real disparity in the “egregiousness” of the crimes that resulted in a sentence of LWPOR and the death sentence, thus further underscoring the idea that the death penalty was nothing but arbitrary.
It even supported the vast geographic disparity in Connecticut: a murder in the death penalty capital of CT – Waterbury – was seven times more likely to result in a death sentence than in any other jurisdiction in the State. If the chances of an individual getting a death sentence increase by 700% merely because of the physical location of that crime, then that is the very definition of arbitrary.
The study’s findings also supported those of other nationwide studies that the race of the defendant and the victim play a major role in determining whether the death penalty is imposed:
not only are minority on white murders getting harsher treatment controlling for all of the factors specified above, but this harsher treatment is substantial. Minority on white murders are charged as capital felonies at a roughly 21 or 22 percentage point higher rate (see columns 2, 3, 5, and 6 in row 2 of Table 22) and receive death sentences at a roughly 4 to 8 percentage point higher rate (see columns 2, 3, 5, and 6 in row 2 of Table 23). A sense of the importance of these estimated effects can be gained by comparing these effects against the overall charging and sentencing rates.
For instance, the overall rate of capital charging from the data set of 205 death-eligible cases is roughly 67 percent (as indicated in Table 21). Clearly, a 21 or 22 percentage point increase in charging for a racially defined class of crimes is a notably large number. Similarly, when the overall death sentencing rate in the sample is only 4.4 percent (see Table 21), an elevated death sentencing rate for minority on white crimes on the order of magnitude of 4 to 8 percent is obviously sizeable.
Indeed, the harsher sentencing of minority defendants who kill whites is even greater (proportionally) than the increase in the capital charging rates experienced by this same group. The proportionally greater death sentencing rate suggests that minority on white murders receive harsher treatment not only by virtue of initial prosecutorial decisions to charge death-eligible cases as capital felonies, although this is clearly one component, but also because of subsequent racially biased decisions of prosecutors and/or judges and juries subsequent to the initial charging decision.
The study is also a delightful read because it takes the counter-study of the State’s expert and rips it to shreds. It cuts through the “rhetoric and unfounded speculations” made by the State’s expert and presents the findings of that study as following:
1. There are enormous and unexplained geographic disparities.
2. Death sentences are not confined to the worst murders.
3. There is gender bias in death sentencing.
4. There is racial bias in capital outcomes.
5. There is arbitrariness in the key charging and sentencing decisions of the Connecticut
death penalty system.
That sounds awfully like the State’s expert agrees with the defense expert.
The report concludes as one would expect: with a plea to the court and the legislature to take into account the findings of the study and to do something to fix the problem (or, in my opinion, do away with it entirely). If you read the entire report, it will leave you with no doubt that the death penalty as it stands is unworkable and geographically and racially disparate and that its application is nothing but arbitrary, a clear violation of Furman and the Eight Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. As the legislature heads into its short session in February, it would be wise to look at this report and address the concerns raised by it. Now that that trial is over, perhaps we will talk honestly about the problems created by the death penalty in Connecticut and look seriously to abolition.
DOJ finds widespread racial profiling in East Haven
Dec 31st
Almost exactly one year ago, I wrote about the town of East Haven, CT hurtling towards “sundown town” status, caused largely by alleged institutional racism and bias towards minorities – lately specifically Latinos. In that post, I mentioned that there was a federal civil rights lawsuit pending and that the Civil Rights Division of the Department of Justice had opened an investigation into these alleged discriminatory practices of the East Haven Police Department. This past week, the DOJ issued its report in the form of a letter [PDF] sent to the East Haven mayor and boy is it damning (media coverage here).
Some of its key findings:
- The East Haven Police Department (EHPD) conducted disproportionate traffic stops of Latinos. Latinos accounted for 24.8% of the stops in the 4pm-12am shift, which is typically the busiest. The numbers for the other shifts were 17.8% and 14.7%.
- However, comparing the percentage of Latinos stopped to the percentage of Latinos in the population reveals a starker difference. Latinos accounted for 19.9% of all traffic stops, but make up only 8.3% of East Haven drivers (and 15.5% of East Haven and surrounding towns).
In making these stops, the DOJ found that the EHPD targets Latino drivers and employs tactics not used against non-Latinos:
- Officers heavily patrol known Latino areas, lying in wait for people leaving predominantly Latino-oriented businesses.
- Other methods use include following cars until a traffic violation occurs, out-of-state license plates known to be “forged”, citing speeding but writing little to no information about the speeding on the ticket itself.
- Latinos face harsher treatment after being stopped: they are more likely to be arrested and have their cars towed for traffic violations than non-Latinos.
The DOJ further charges that the EHPD haphazardly employes immigration policies against Latino drivers and points out that the EHPD and East Haven have had a long standing problem with policing of minorities, citing a recently concluded federal lawsuit which alleged discrimination against African Americans (Jones v. Town of East Haven, et. al.).
The most shocking thing about all of this (or the least surprising, depending on how naive you are) is that the DOJ got all the above information from the EHPD itself: from 2 years’ worth of police reports and interviews with officers and community members.
The institutional coddling of these discriminatory practices is mind-blowing. From the news report:
East Haven may be unique, if only because of a tangle of politics and the close friendship between East Haven’s Republican mayor, Joseph Maturo Jr. and his chief of police, Leonard Gallo.
Maturo was originally mayor from 1997 to 2007 and he hired Gallo as chief in 1998. But Gallo was put on administrative leave by Maturo’s Democratic successor as mayor, April Capone, in 2010, a result of the allegations of racial profiling and excessive use of force by East Haven Police.
After Maturo won in the November elections, he almost immediately returned Gallo to full duty as chief — an astounding move given the ongoing civil rights and grand jury investigations into police actions during Gallo’s tenure.
And more:
The 23-page report released Monday by the U.S. Department of Justice Civil Rights Division cited top police officers for “creating and condoning a hostile and intimidating environment for anyone seeking to provide relevant information in this investigation.”
“We also learned that Chief Gallo had warned staff that the Department of Justice had agreed to provide him with the names of individuals who cooperated with the investigation,” according to the civil rights report. And that, federal officials insisted, was completely and utterly untrue.
How bizarre is this institutional protection? EHPD officers told DOJ officials (that’s the fucking Federal Department of Justice Civil Rights Division, in case we were unclear) that the DOJ officials’ safety could not be guaranteed by the EHPD when they went on ride-alongs. Ponder that for a second.
The DOJ found an abject lack of any internal policing mechanisms and that the EHPD hadn’t ever bothered to compile the statistics to see if racial profiling existed with its department, something that’s required by C.G.S. 54-1m. In addition, the DOJ noted that a large number of entries into the EHPD’s database seemed to be missing ethnicity data or the data seemed to be misreported.
EHPD is at a crossroads: either admit that there are problems and work toward fixing them or deny it all and face lengthy and costly lawsuits brought not only by civilians, but also the Department of Justice. As a new year dawns, one can only hope that concern for the safety of officers and the constitutional rights of its residents rises above deep-seated racism and pride.
Witnessing bullshit
Nov 22nd
That eyewitness identification is a troublesome area of the criminal justice system is well known to regular readers of this blog. That the movement toward long overdue reform is lethargic and a source of much consternation to me is well known to the readers of this blog. So, it presented a bittersweet moment when I learned that the Connecticut-centric NPR show “Where We Live” was going to do an episode on the problems of eyewitness identification and the enacted legislative reforms. That the complexities of this issue cannot be given – heh – justice in a one hour time slot goes without saying, but there is something to be said about this seeping into the collective general consciousness. So, all for the better, I suppose.
Until a caller called in with a comment toward the end of the show (which you can listen to in its entirety here). The caller “Wayne” offered a personal anecdote, which I paraphrase below:
I’m a cab driver in New Haven and back in 1979, I had transported an individual, who it turned out had just committed a murder. So, as a witness, I was called to testify at the trial and identify him. Now, when I had transported him, he was a thin fellow, riddled with a drug addiction, unkempt, mousy and had that lean and hungry look. After getting 3 squares a day, regular sleep and no sunlight for a year at the taxpayer’s expense, he looked like a different man. He’d put on weight, had grown hair and was looking well-fed. I couldn’t recognize him at all. I couldn’t see the person I had transported a year earlier, so when asked to identify the passenger, I figured, heck, it has to be that guy sitting next to the defense attorney, looking quite out of place in a suit. So I pointed in that direction. Luckily, there was other evidence and he was convicted.
Read it again if you’re sitting here thinking “well, what’s the problem?”. The problem is that this witness admitted that he had no idea whether the defendant was indeed the same person who he had transported a year ago, but pointed at the guy sitting in the courtroom anyway, thereby making an in-court identification that jurors could – and would – rely upon to convict him.
Putting aside the desire that witnesses be honest and forthcoming about their inability to recall the defendant as the perpetrator – they rarely are – this highlights a recurring problem for which there may be no solution. In most criminal trials, there is one person sitting across from the jury who just doesn’t belong to the scene. There is one person who best resembles a Microsoft photoshop faux pas: the defendant. Either he isn’t wearing a suit, or wearing one that’s ill-fitting or is wearing the same shirt that the juror saw him wear during voir dire, or he’s just…sitting there. Looking out of place. Uncomfortable.
And everyone can see it. Even the witness. And that makes identifications in court essentially meaningless. Because, when asked to identify the perpetrator, who else is the witness going to pick out? The prosecutor who’s just been asking him questions? The defense attorney who’s been objecting? The judge? Don’t be silly.
I’ve been thinking about this all day and I’m not sure that there’s a solution. But there is a problem. And the problem is that it turns bad memories into good ones. It turns hunches into convictions. It’s the same problem with juries: the defendant’s here, he’s arrested, he must be guilty. Innocent people don’t just end up in trial for no reason. If the system has got him, it’s got the right guy.
We can control this to some extent during pretrial hearings on the suppression of identifications, but in trial, there’s no apparent remedy. It’s yet another failing that we have to live with and work to overcome.
A different approach
Nov 22nd
For those of you who have followed the recent history of capital punishment in Connecticut and the struggle over abolition, I will quote a few paragraphs. Tell me if it sounds familiar:
[We] have a fundamental belief in fairness and justice – in swift and certain justice. The death penalty as practiced [here] is neither fair nor just; and it is not swift or certain. It is not applied equally to all. It is a perversion of justice that the single best indicator of who will and will not be executed has nothing to do with the circumstances of a crime or the findings of a jury. The only factor that determines whether someone sentenced to death [here] is actually executed is that they volunteer. The hard truth is that in the [40 odd] years since [we] reinstated the death penalty, it has only been carried out on [one] volunteer who waived [his] right to appeal.
In the years since [then], many judges, district attorneys, legislators, death penalty proponents and opponents, and victims and their families have agreed that [our] system is broken.
But we have done nothing. We have avoided the question.
And during that time, a growing number of states have reconsidered their approach to capital punishment given public concern, evidence of wrongful convictions, the unequal application of the law, the expense of the process and other issues.
It goes on and on. Sadly, while the debates and the struggles and the arguments are the same, the State is not Connecticut, but rather Oregon, and the above is not an excerpt from a speech of Governor Malloy, but rather from a remarkable statement [PDF] made by Governor Kitzhaber in explaining his decision to impose a moratorium on executions in Oregon. Compare the solemn eloquence of Kitzhaber’s statement with the barbaric vengeance that spewed forth from the mouth of Edith Prague. The former is replete with compassion and realism, while the latter is devoid of any intellectual honesty.
Is there any wonder that we still seek and pursue the death penalty here in Connecticut? What more could highlight the arbitrariness of the death penalty when the same argument is utilized by Kitzhaber to justify his moratorium and by the Connecticut Supreme Court to continue to sanction this ghastly punishment [PDF]:
And while it may be convenient to blame lengthy and expensive death penalty trials and appeals on inmates “working the system,” the truth is courts (and society) continue to reinterpret when, how and under what circumstances it is acceptable for the state to kill someone. Over time, those options are narrowing. Courts are applying stricter standards and continually raising the bar for prosecuting death penalty cases. Consider that it was only six years ago that the U.S. Supreme Court reversed itself and held that it is unconstitutional to impose capital punishment on those under the age of 18. For a state intent on maintaining a death penalty, the inevitable result will be bigger questions, fewer options and higher costs.
versus:
We recognize that imposition of new death sentences also has declined substantially over the past decade, from 224 in 2000 to 112 in 2010. Death Penalty Information Center, ‘‘Facts about the Death Penalty,’’ supra, p. 3. Various reasons have been posited for the decline, however, including: the high costs of the death penalty at a time when state budgets are strained from a weak economy; publicity about convictions overturned due to DNA evidence; a significant drop in rates of violent crime and murder; improved legal representation for capital defendants, including the greater use of mitigation specialists; and the increasingly available option for prosecutors to seek life sentences without the possibility of parole.
Although some of these explanations suggest declining public support for the death penalty because it offends contemporary standards of decency and morality, others decidedly do not. Because of the ambiguity underlying the decline in new death sentences, that circumstance does not provide compelling support for abandoning our decisions in Ross and Webb.
The courts and the legislature in Connecticut are engaged in a silly game of kickball and avoidance. We hide behind the cutesy nickname, “the land of steady habits”, when in reality, we are the only state in the entire Northeast to still sanction this punishment. Steady we are, I suppose. Steadily vengeful and regressive.
Says Kitzhaber:
Fourteen years ago, I struggled with the decision to allow an execution to proceed. Over the years I have thought if faced with the same set of circumstances I would make a different decision. That time has come.
The time has come. Who will have the courage to utter these words and take a different approach?
Legally carrying a weapon is a crime
Aug 18th
Look, I dislike guns. I dislike them a lot. I don’t believe that people kill people, rather that guns – the objects from which projectiles are discharged at a high rate of velocity, thereby permitting them to enter the bodies of individuals, causing fatal damage to bodily organs – kill people. I’d rather there weren’t any, or at the very least, we had stringent gun control laws.
But do you know what I dislike more? Stupid laws and even stupider interpretation of laws that criminalize perfectly legal conduct. Somehow, despite my strict personal opposition to guns, it is still legal to carry a licensed firearm in Connecticut. In public. Openly.
Yet, for some reason, the state’s “top criminal justice official” – a made up title if I ever heard one – wouldn’t recommend it. Why, you might logically ask, is it not a good idea? For the same reason that photographers across the country are being arrested for videotaping police encounters with civilians: because no one knows the law (see also this post by Balko on an issue similar to the one in the instant post).
I’m not making this shit up.
Mike Lawlor, already featured in one post today for his sage legal prognostications, offers up another:
“In almost every situation you can imagine this happening in, it qualifies as breach of peace,” he said. “If you walk into a restaurant with a gun it’s almost by definition a breach of peace.”
That results in an arrest and sets in motion a chain of events that usually results in the revocation of an issued pistol permit, he said. And that’s the way it should be, Lawlor said. Anyone who walks into a McDonalds plainly carrying a firearm either intends to alarm people or is irresponsible, he said.
“Almost by definition”? Oh, really? Challenge Accepted! Here‘s the relevant Breach of Peace statute:
Ayyy!
Aug 16th
It’s prosecutorial misconduct week here at “a public defender” and I’ve finally come across a decision that invokes no other reaction than the aforementioned Fonzie “ayyy!”. In fact, it’s how I imagine the three judges who signed on to the opinion reacting when faced with all the instances of egregious misconduct and yet rendering a decision that – yet again – condoned and sanctioned the behavior.
This time, in State v. Albino, the Appellate Court cannot but agree that the numerous instances of unacceptable behavior, that they gingerly call “improper”, crossed the bounds of acceptable lawyering, yet somehow they find a way to affirm, because the defendant was convicted of murder, after all and he was really, really guilty.
Here’s but a sampling of the key misconduct. From referring to the decedent as a victim and the crime as murder:
The defendant first contends that the prosecutor acted improperly when he ‘‘repeatedly commented on the guilt of [the] defendant and attempted to influence the jury by his persistent use of the terms ‘victim,’ ‘murder,’ and ‘murder weapon’ throughout the trial …’’ The defendant contends that the prosecutor referred to Rivera as the ‘‘victim’’ thirty-one times, referred to his death as ‘‘murder’’ five times, and referred to the firearm as the ‘‘murder weapon’’ eight times during closing argument. He directs us to similar occurrences during the prosecutor’s questioning of trial witnesses where he alleges that the prosecutor referred to Rivera as the ‘‘victim’’ twenty-seven times, referred to his death as ‘‘murder’’ twelve times, and referred to the firearm as the ‘‘murder weapon’’ six times. We agree that in a case such as this, where the defendant has asserted a self-defense claim, it is improper for the prosecutor repeatedly to use the words victim, murder and murder weapon throughout the trial.
To arguing that in order to believe the defendant, the jury would have to find all the witnesses were lying:
The Barney Fife exception: all in good faith
Aug 15th
The Constitution requires that criminal defendants be provided with a fair trial, not merely a “good faith” try at a fair trial. Respondent here, by what may have been nothing more than police ineptitude, was denied the opportunity to present a full defense. That ineptitude, however, deprived respondent of his guaranteed right to due process of law.
Those, of course, are the (somewhat) famous opening lines to Justice Blackmun‘s dissent in Arizona v. Youngblood, which held that in order to affect due process of law, law enforcement’s actions in destroying potentially exculpatory evidence must be caused by some “bad faith”. The Court, of course, never explains “bad faith”, which results in a race to the bottom to designate all police misconduct as “incompetence” and “inadvertence”, thereby circumventing the Fourteenth Amendment.
Consider, for your entertainment, the very recent case of Martin v. The State of (Where Else?) Texas. In Martin, the defendant was pulled over by Deputy Fife Jennings for failing to signal a left turn. Upon approaching the vehicle, the Deputy smelled “marihuana” and then observed a furtive gesture which led to a patdown, which led to the Deputy feel something like a razor blade (wait for it) which led to the discovery of marihuana methamphetamine (don’t even ask). Martin, within two weeks of his arrest, sent a subpoena to the police department, asking them preserve the video of the dashboard camera. A year later, at the suppression hearing, there obviously was no video, or I wouldn’t be writing this post. Here’s a summary of the police procedure and operation of the dashcam:
The dashcam is automatically activated when an officer turns on his emergency lights. Department policy states that all video must automatically be saved for thirty days. Jennings could not say whether his machine was operating that night, but he would have noted either at the beginning or end of the shift if the device had not been functional. Jennings stated that the only way to know for sure if the video had been taken would have been if he had preserved the video.
And why did no one know if there was video and why did Jennings not preserve it to find out if the incident had been videotaped? I’ll let him tell you:
Sanctioning misconduct
Aug 15th
In a system that is built on accountability, the punishment for violations of accepted standards is notoriously one-sided. Defendants, almost exclusively, are the ones penalized for failing to conform their behavior to the standardized and socially accepted norms. With good reason, obviously. But the criminal justice system isn’t a one-team sport: there are also judges and prosecutors. And all participants in this game are guilty of misconduct, albeit less frequently. Yet the ratio of transgressions to punishment is inexplicably lopsided when it comes to rule-breaking by officialdom. Courts that find “prosecutorial misconduct impropriety” rarely, if ever, impose punishment.
I wrote almost a month ago about the CT Supreme Court’s extraordinary decision in State v. Patrick Lenarz, in whose case the prosecutor received, read and utilized at trial confidential documents from the defendant to his attorney. The Lenarz case is remarkable not only for the strong language in the decision, but the fact that the Court was so troubled by the actions of the prosecutor that it ordered Lenarz released back in November, after oral argument. In fact, the Court found that the violation by the prosecutor was so egregious that it ordered that the prosecution be dismissed.
But still, this is a prosecutor we’re talking about. The Court doesn’t bother to name the offending prosecutor in its decision, but if you know how to read CT appellate opinions, you know that the last prosecutor listed in the “credits” is usually the prosecutor who handled the matter at the trial court. It is a rather tiresome feature of our appellate courts that they will not hesitate to name defense counsel when evaluating claims of ineffective assistance of counsel, but when it comes to conduct by a prosecutor that is “extremely troubling”, they still cannot bring themselves to put the name down in print, even though the significance of the prosecuting arm of the state using illegal and unethical measures to secure convictions against the citizenry is something far more egregious and dangerous.
But I digress.
I know it when I see it
Jul 26th
Finally, my favorite subject: pornography. Everyone has to have heard of Justice Potter Stewart’s words which form the title of this post, written in a concurrence in Jacobellis v. Ohio, on the issue of “obscene” videos. And almost no one knows what it means. After a flurry of decisions in the 1960s and 70s (Stanley v. GA, Smith v. CA, Miller v. CA, Jenkins v. GA) attempting to define exactly what is obscene and what is protected and just who can be prosecuted with and ending up with a mess of a Constitutional doctrine, the Supreme Court – and the general American public – seem to have given up on pornography altogether. No one really cares anymore and there’s hardly ever a prosecution for the production, sale and possession of adult pornography.
Unless you’re a sex offender on probation, of course. Enter Robert Stephens. Stephens was convicted of possession of child pornography and as part of his sentence, was placed on probation. Some of his conditions were as follows:
One of the seven special conditions was that the defendant’s access to any computer must be approved by the office of adult probation. Among the special sex offender conditions were that the defendant (1) not possess, or subscribe to, any sexually stimulating material deemed inappropriate by a probation officer, (2) not possess a camera, DVD player, camcorder, videocassette recorder or other similar equipment without the approval of a probation officer, and (3) submit to an examination and search of his computer or other similar equipment to verify that it was not being utilized in violation of his probation or treatment.
Note that the condition isn’t “obscene” material, but rather “sexually stimulating material deemed inappropriate by a probation officer”. More on that later.
As is the natural course of events for sex offenders, he was found in violation of his probation for having a few nude photographs of his ex girlfriend and duly sentenced to 42 months in prison. He appealed, claiming that the condition:
For your eyes only: prosecutors really can’t look at privileged documents
Jul 17th
From the “Well, it’s good to know that at least some things are still sacred” files comes this very recent decision of the CT Supreme Court in State v. Lenarz, which held that yes, prosecutors really aren’t allowed to look at confidential communications between lawyers and defendants and then use that knowledge against the defendant at trial.
Just how egregious was this violation of the attorney-client privilege? Judge for yourself:
During its examination of the defendant’s computer, the state laboratory discovered voluminous written materials containing detailed discussions of the defendant’s trial strategy in the Granby cases. The state laboratory read and copied much of this material and transmitted it to the Simsbury police department along with its report. In turn, the Simsbury police department forwarded the materials and the report to the prosecutor. At a meeting between the prosecutor and defense counsel some time in September, 2005, the prosecutor provided defense counsel with a copy of the materials that he had received from the Simsbury police department. Defense counsel immediately requested a meeting with Judge Scheinblum in chambers, at which he advised the judge that the prosecutor had read materials that were subject to the attorney-client privilege.
This was after the judge had already entered orders that confidential materials on the computer were to “remain unpublished and unread”. But that’s not the end of this:
The state admitted that the prosecutor had read all of the materials and did not dispute that the documents contained trial strategy, but claimed that, because the prosecutor had not conducted any additional investigation and had not interviewed any additional witnesses as a result of reading the materials, the defendant had suffered no prejudice. In addition, the state claimed that the prosecutor had not wilfully violated the attorney-client privilege, but had obtained the privileged materials in good faith.
What were these documents, you ask, and just how is a prosecutor to know they’re privileged? I mean, it’s not like the documents said “TRIAL STRATEGY” or “Confidential” on th- :
An ode to the Kitchens sink: a tragicomedy
Jul 17th
Once upon a time in Connecticut
there was a Court
which, to Constitutional errors,
gave much thought
it matters not, the Court said
if an error wasn’t preserved
if certain conditions are met
we’ll give it the review it deserved
And so the court issued
its seminal holding
in the case of
State v. Monica Golding
The State huffed and puffed
and fumed and schemed
to get the court to ignore these errors
it daily dreamed
In every case
the State cried foul
“but that precise claim wasn’t raised”
it bleated with a scowl
And then the Court changed
as members came and went
the State continued to try
to put in Ms. Golding a dent
And as the years went by
the Court became less receptive
to these pleas of error
the State considered defective
Lo, it finally came to pass
in Kitchens, Akande and Mungroo,
that to instructional error
the Court would now say
“sorry, no can do”
If you do not object
or even stand silently by
as erroneous instructions
the jury must apply
If you do not state
with exacting precision
the specific problems
with the court’s instruction
The court will deem that you have waived
the client’s right
Due Process? Fair trials?
you cannot seek this constitutional might
The court can err
confuse and mislead
but for this Constitutional infirmity
only you will bleed
You must be prescient
You must be attentive
because the Court has become
anal retentive
And now that Ms. Golding’s
been sent to the Kitchens sink
What are we to do?
What are we to think?
Ask for copies
and then ask for time
and if you forget
just remember this rhyme
One thing is certain
One thing is sure
For our clients’ ills
We are the only cure.
And now the prose version for those who either tl;dr-ed the above or who just didn’t understand what the hell it meant:
What do we want from our system?
Jul 10th
I feel compelled to start, once again, with one of my favorite quotes:
Ammianus Marcellinus relates an anecdote of the Emperor Julian which illustrates the enforcement of this principle in the Roman law. Numerius, the governor of Narbonensis, was on trial before the Emperor, and, contrary to the usage in criminal cases, the trial was public. Numerius contented himself with denying his guilt, and there was not sufficient proof against him. His adversary, Delphidius, “a passionate man,” seeing that the failure of the accusation was inevitable, could not restrain himself, and exclaimed, “Oh, illustrious Cæsar! if it is sufficient to deny, what hereafter will become of the guilty?” to which Julian replied, “If it suffices to accuse, what will become of the innocent?” Rerum Gestarum, L. XVIII, c. 1.
Coffin v. United States. And yet, in these days, I look around and see more of Delphidius than of Caesar. Surely, you have heard of Casey Anthony and the verdict of not guilty rendered in her capital trial, that has sent a million heads spinning and the veins of nearly half the population of the country pumping with boiling blood calling for vengeance and murder.
The appreciation of a system which presumes an individual innocent unless the State can prove guilt beyond a reasonable doubt seems to be shrinking to a select few who make their living in that system. For the rest, the pure exhilaration of having a pre-determined verdict of guilt (and isn’t it always guilt?) announced, confirming their increasingly myopic and monochromatic view of the world is the only expectation.
Do we want a system that protects the individual or do we want a system that confirms our view of the guilt of those arrested? Do we want a system that lifts the substance of the accusation up to the light – and upon finding it wanting – discards it? Or do we want a system that goes by the smell test? Do we want a system where no one who is arrested is not guilty? Do we want so much to believe in the infallibility of our so-called protectors? Do we want a system that allows us to so easily and hypocritically create an artificial divide between the mob and the mobbed?
Does the system only work when the guilty are convicted and the innocent are acquitted, or does it work when some who may be guilty are nonetheless set free? Does the system work when some who are likely innocent are not?
we are mindful that it may seem unjust to allow a conviction to stand when the evidence on which the conviction rested has been discredited. It must be remembered, however, that, once properly convicted, the petitioners no longer are cloaked in the mantle of the presumption of innocence.
Gould v. Commissioner of Correction, while doing just that. Gould is a case I wrote about some time ago, where a habeas court reversed Gould’s (and his co-defendant Taylor’s) conviction for murder on the grounds that they were actually innocent. From that decision:
“A senseless, cold-blooded, execution style murder was committed in the early morning hours of July 4th, 1993,” Fuger begins. Eugenio Deleon Vega went to his small Fair Haven bodega, La Casa Green, to open shop at 5:08 a.m. “Before the hour of six AM, before he could even arrange the morning newspapers, he was dead. He had been executed, shot once in the left temple with a projectile from a .38 caliber semiautomatic pistol. These are indisputable facts.”
Fuger sets the scene for his sharp reproof with a blazing sub-header on Page One.
“This case rises and falls on the testimony of Doreen Stiles,” the sub-header reads, quoting New Haven’s Senior Assistant State Attorney James Clark’s words during Taylor and Gould’s 1995 Superior Court trial.
“No truer statement has ever been spoken,” Fuger wrote.
Stiles, a drug-addicted police informant, was the only supposed eyewitness who placed the defendants at the murder scene. DNA evidence found at the murder scene did not match Gould or Taylor. The state’s case rested on Stiles’ testimony, as Clark openly admitted during the trial. Stiles came forward and recanted her statement in 2006, allowing the defendants to open a joint habeas corpus claim of actual innocence, based on new evidence.
It is “crystal clear,” wrote Fuger, “that the sole piece of evidence, the only thread that links George Gould and Ronald Taylor to this senseless murder is the testimony of Doreen Stiles. If this tether breaks, then there is absolutely nothing that implicates these two men.”
“At the trial of the case in 1995, the case rose because Doreen Stiles made that linkage; at the trial of the habeas petition in 2009, the case must fall, once again, based upon the testimony of Doreen Stiles,” Fuger wrote.
The Supreme Court in its desire to so respectfully uphold the notion of finality, trips over itself to make absolutely clear that they seems somewhat squeamish about writing this decision, but in the end, they really have to. They don’t, really. I know it, they know and you should know it too. The verbal gymnastics are impressive:
In sum, the recantations by Stiles and Boyd may demonstrate that there no longer is any credible evidence that the petitioners did commit the crimes of which they were convicted. What the habeas court’s decision lacks is any discussion of affirmative evidence that would prove by clear and convincing evidence that the petitioners did not commit the crimes. We therefore conclude that the habeas court’s judgments must be reversed…
Emphasis added by me to point out the subtle use of words to support their conclusion.
So, if the only testimony which links the defendants to the murder is now discredited, and that’s not enough, then what must someone do to convince a court of their innocence? I’m glad you asked:
First, taking into account both the evidence produced in the original criminal trial and the evidence produced in the habeas hearing, the petitioner must persuade the habeas court by clear and convincing evidence, as that standard is properly understood and applied in the context of such a claim, that the petitioner is actually innocent of the crime of which he stands convicted. Second, the petitioner must establish that, after considering all of that evidence and the inferences drawn therefrom, as the habeas court did, no reasonable fact finder would find the petitioner guilty.
Not only does one have to prove to the system that they affirmatively did not commit this crime, but they also have to prove that a jury would not find them guilty. It isn’t enough, here, that one presents evidence proving that they did not commit the crime – although how that is to be applied as a universal standard is beyond me.
Are we to decide on the innocence of individuals who are caught up in our system based on their their sheer luck that there exists some physical evidence such as DNA that proves they did not commit the crime? Must we require such a circumstance beyond their control? And what do we say to those who are lucky enough to completely undermine the State’s case against them, yet unlucky enough to have no independent corroborative evidence of their “alleged” innocence? Finality trumps innocence? Form over substance? Perhaps.
It really doesn’t come as any surprise, though, to me – and perhaps to you as well – that our rules are such. That there is a bias toward convicting and keeping people convicted. I sit here, day after day, reading as cases and reports of cases come flooding across my line of sight – and every day it’s the same: we love pronouncing judgment on others and love our moral indignation and our self-assumed superiority. We are better. They are guilty. And how dare anyone disagree with us:
A red-haired woman in her 60s who moved to Florida from Michigan, she told the court she worked at a Publix Grocery when she was questioned as a potential juror.
Now, she’s in hiding.
Juror number 12 left Florida. Her husband, fighting back tears, tells NBC News he’s not sure when she’ll return to her home in Florida.
Why? He says she fears half of her co-workers want her head on a platter.
The other may understand what she did, but she didn’t want to face them.
She was due to retire in the fall, but Juror number 12, after being released from sequestration, chose to call her boss to announce she couldn’t come to work. She didn’t feel safe.
She retired over the phone.
The husband, who sat with two NBC News producers, glanced repeatedly at his blood pressure monitor on the coffee table and the Bible next to it.
One day they’ll come for you and there’ll be no one left to speak up for you.
What do we want from our system? A rubber stamp, apparently.
[For an interesting local connection to the image above, see here.]
I blue myself
Jun 9th
As I snarked (yes, it’s a verb now) on Twitter last night as Governor Malloy delivered his end of the session speech to a joint session of the legislature, yesterday was the first time since 1990 that a Connecticut governor uttered the words “criminal justice reform” and I didn’t want to throw something at the television.
The reason for this new-found restraint isn’t the deep meditation I’ve been practicing, but rather the reality that the legislature did indeed pass some sensible reforms this year. As the nation turns red, Connecticut turned blue, not only in the criminal justice arena but others as well. There was the paid sick leave [full coverage here] bill, the transgender identity bill and the in-state tuition for undocumented students bill. But as is the case with politics generally, there were many things left undone. Here’s a roundup of the criminal justice bills that passed and those that didn’t.
First, the good bills that passed:
- Decriminalization of possession of less than half an ounce of marijuana.
- Risk Reduction Credit: the first piece of “smart on crime legislation” to pass the legislature this year (scroll to section 22), this bill provides for 5 days per month of credit towards a reduction in the overall sentence of an inmate. It seems similar to a “good time” bill, but it really isn’t, because there are several offenses that are ineligible for this risk reduction credit and the credit applies only to inmates who participate in programs and maintain good behavior.
- Home confinement for DUI and drug offenders: as advertised. Scroll to section 26 & 27.
- Electronic Recording of Custodial Interrogations: finally a videotaping of interrogations bill and yet it feels so incomplete. This bill applies to people accused of capital felonies and Class A & B felonies only. Plus, it doesn’t go into effect until 2014, because apparently, in the 21st century, it’s far to burdensome for police departments to buy a goddamn videocamera and record something. Still, better than nothing.
- Eyewitness ID reform: another half-measure as the bill now requires double-blind identification procedures “where feasible” but leaves sequential procedures for a “task force” to study. Study what, exactly, I don’t know.
- An Act Concerning Competency To Stand Trial: I haven’t fully perused this bill yet, but it seems to make some changes to the restoration to competency procedure.
- Prevention of Prison Rape: this is a terrific bill designed to prevent rape in prisons, which is a real problem. Read the NH Advocate for more.
Bills that should have passed but didn’t:
- Reducing the radius around schools, within which drug offenders face enhanced penalties, from 1500 feet to 200 feet: This was another great bill that died at the last second, with time running out. This would’ve made another “smart on crime” change, reducing the enhanced penalty zone around schools to 200 feet. As it currently stands, at 1500 feet, major cities have almost no spots that aren’t within that radius of a school. In New Haven, there’s only one: in the middle of a golf course. Too bad. Maybe next year.
- An Act Making It Clear That It’s Legal To Record Police Officers: This bill, ostensibly proposed in the wake of the Luis Luna fiasco, had great momentum, passing the Senate last week, but then it languished on the House calendar and was never put to a vote.
- An Act Concerning Speedy Trials: another smart bill that sought to prevent the problem of people being incarcerated pre-trial for longer than the maximum punishment. Unfortunately, it didn’t get as much as a sniff in either the House or Senate.
- An Act Concerning Sentence Modifications: a favorite of inmates, this bill would’ve removed the current requirement that all inmates serving sentences of 3 years or more need the permission of a prosecutor to even have their modification request heard by a judge. Essentially the bill would’ve removed prosecutors’ ability to cock-block. It didn’t get far.
The bills that shouldn’t have passed and didn’t:
- An Act Designed To Make a Mockery of The Great Writ: This stupid bill keep getting proposed every year and every year it gets tougher and tougher to beat it back, for some reason. This year it made it out of committee, but thankfully died before a vote in either chamber. I’ve written extensively on why this is a bad, stupid, dangerous bill.
- An Act Equating a Motor Vehicle With A Fiream: Here. I’ll let you read the summary: ‘To make the penalty for the offense of manslaughter with a motor vehicle while under the influence of intoxicating liquor or any drug, or both, consistent with the penalty for manslaughter in the first degree with a firearm and provide for a rebuttable presumption that any person who causes the death of another person while operating a motor vehicle under the influence of intoxicating liquor or drug, or both, did so evincing an extreme indifference to human life in a manner that constitutes manslaughter in the first degree.’ The penalty for manslaughter with a firearm? 45 years. That’s forty five. Thankfully this abomination, after passing the Senate (!), stalled in the House.
- The DNA upon arrest bill: I wasn’t aware of this, but the bill passed with a great amendment: it applies only to those accused of serious felonies and who have been convicted of a felony in the past and haven’t provided a DNA sample. So, basically, it means no change in the law. [Link is to the House Amendment that was approved by the Senate, essentially the relevant portion of the bill.]
- Establishing a ‘gun offender’ registry: this was a novel idea but didn’t make it far.
- Thanks to Capitol Watch for reminding me about the stricter penalties for cell phone use while driving bills that apparently went quietly into that gentle night.
The bill I wish never passes, so we can keep talking about it forever:
- The Ryan McKeen loves Susan Bysiewicz bill: This would have eliminated the hotly contested “active practice” requirement for someone wishing to be Attorney General. The House passed it, the Senate didn’t vote.
You can find a very unhelpful list of all the bills passed here. If any of you so much as thinks about mentioning ‘d____ p______’, I will /kickban you.
For those who don’t get the title of this post or the hilarious picture of Tobias Funke, here’s context:
CT decriminalizes pot
Jun 7th
Connecticut’s legislature today voted to decriminalize the possession of less than half an ounce of marijuana. For those who don’t know, the picture above is of half an ounce of pot. That’s a lot.
In celebration of the impending signing of the bill by the Governor, I am conducting an experiment: this post is being typed while I am completely high1. I have Pink Floyd playing in the background, Half Baked on the television and my good buddy Jim Breuer mumbling on the telephone.
The bill makes it an infraction to possess less than half an ounce, resulting only in monetary fines and confiscation for said pot, presumably for the officers to smoke.
[Former Judiciary Committee co-chair and current criminal justice advisor to the Governor Mike] Lawlor said many of the 2,000 people each year who are convicted of possessing less than a half ounce of marijuana do complete one of the several programs that wipe their record clean upon completion.
But the conviction being on a permanent record is not the only problem, he said.
“In this day and age, the minute you get arrested that’s public record and remains a public record… That’s there forever,” he said. “When employers Google your name that will pop up.”
“Those are records they have to explain the rest of their lives” when applying for jobs, financial aid for college and when attempting to join the military, [Judiciary Committee co-chair] Fox said. “This [bill] would change that.”
Also: it’s pot. But of course, the Repubs brought out the “gateway drug” argument3. So, after typing this post I’m going to raid my mom’s medicine cabinet, pop some percocet and then head down to the corner to score some meth1. Brb.
And now here’s a picture, shamelessly stolen from the Hartford Advocate, followed by a video. Suggest your own theme song for this awesome event in the comments. Man.
1No, don’t be stupid. I’m writing this post drunk, as usual. I’ve never partaken of illegal drugs.2
2Not within any active statute of limitations, anyway.
3No, seriously. Smoke responsibly. Don’t smoke and drive. Don’t smoke and tweet.














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