ct state law
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.
The child abuse exception to [privilege]
May 12th
If the law were a series of Hollywood blockbusters, undoubtedly the highest grossing series of movies of all time would be the ones that featured the exceptions carved out in long-standing law to accommodate the prosecution of alleged child abusers. You’d start with the original, “The Child Abuse Exception to Confrontation”, with which the writers judges hit a goldmine. Then I’d recommend moving to “The Child Abuse Exception to Prior Bad Acts”, and by now with a well-worn formula that keeps the entire plot intact but simply changes the name, a la The Hangover 2, The Child Abuse Exception to Privilege. There’s a rumor that there is a madlibs game in the works “The Child Abuse Exception to _____”. Ultimately, the plan is to release a director’s cut box set compendium under the title “The Child Abuse Exception to The Law”.
This most recent iteration, which can be viewed on a screen near you, is also known by its working title of State v. Mark R., in which the court goes to great lengths to explain why it is perfectly legal for a psychiatric counselor to not only disclose suspected child abuse to authorities – as a mandated reporter – but also to testify as to the private communications between the counselor and patient.
The relevant facts are thusly: Man allegedly fondles step-daughter. Step-daughter and mother confront man with assistance of priest in priest’s office. Man reluctantly admits said fondling, apologizes. Priest then informs mother that either she or he will have to report said abuse to law enforcement within 24 hours, as he is also a mandated reporter (gotcha!).
Two weeks later, suffering emotional stress from the step-daughter’s accusations and impending criminal prosecution, the man goes to seek counseling at a clinic. During a confidential intake interview, man again (yes, I know) admits said fondling. Counselor has to report said suspected child abuse.
Both priest and counselor testify at man’s trial about his confessions. Man is convicted and spends many years in jail; appeal follows.
In Connecticut, the privilege statute is 52-146s, which states:
(b) Except as provided in subsection (c) of this section, a professional counselor shall not disclose any such communications unless the person or the authorized representative of such person consents to waive the privilege and allow such disclosure. The person or the authorized representative of such person may withdraw any consent given under the provisions of this section at any time in writing addressed to the individual with whom or the office in which the original consent was filed. The withdrawal of consent shall not affect communications disclosed prior to notice of the withdrawal.
(c) Consent of the person shall not be required for the disclosure of such person’s communications:
(6) If child abuse, abuse of an elderly individual or abuse of an individual who is disabled or incompetent is known or in good faith suspected;
So it is pretty clear that the counselor is permitted to violate the privilege in order to report the suspected child abuse. The question then becomes, does the privilege continue to not exist once the disclosure has been made? The court says yes:
Once a client makes such an admission to a counselor, there is no indication, in either the text of the statute or its legislative history, that the counselor must obtain his consent for any subsequent disclosures.
The defendant in the present case contends that Orr controls the result here. He argues that, as with the social worker statute, the professional counselor statute only contemplates an initial disclosure of a client’s admissions of child abuse, and only to the extent required by law and necessary to secure the safety of the child, and therefore the statute does not permit a counselor subsequently to testify against her client at trial. We disagree.
The court then goes into a somewhat limited analysis of why they disagree, mostly revolving around the fact that some other statutes mention that reporters shall be immune from criminal prosecution and that their names shall be disclosed to all necessary parties in said prosecution. Thus, it concludes:
Taken together, these provisions demonstrate a clear legislative intent that any mandatory report of child sexual abuse be channeled simultaneously into: (1) a child protection investigation, spearheaded by the department, to prevent future abuse; and (2) a criminal investigation, spearheaded by local law enforcement, to address past abuse. Unlike the imminent risk exception in § 52-146q (c) (2), the child abuse exception contained in § 52-146s (c) (6) is in part remedial. Accordingly, we discern no basis for reading into § 52-146s an implied distinction between disclosure of confidential communications for purposes of child protection and criminal prosecution.
The court also dismisses the argument that this decision will have a chilling effect on people seeking therapeutic treatment because any disclosure results in a criminal investigation, so the prospect of having his statement admitted through his counselor isn’t much of a deterrent. I suppose it’s been a long time since any of the justices practiced in a criminal court – if at all – but I’d like to take this opportunity to remind them that the number one factor leading to convictions is a confession.
In addition, I think there’s a significant distinction between this case and any other hypothetical case involving the disclosure to a psychiatric counselor: the fact that the suspected child abuse had already been disclosed a few weeks prior, by the priest.
The reason he went to the clinic and spoke to the counselor in the first place was the stress he experienced following the accusations made against him by the step-daughter. I understand that we need to protect children and that is the main goal, but a subsidiary one has to be the rehabilitation of people who commit these crimes and the first step in that process starts with therapy.
Imagine the therapy session that starts: “I must warn you that I can’t help you unless you talk freely and honestly about what you did and why, but if you do that, I will have to report you and testify against you in court”.
Yeah, no chilling effect, for sure.
Significant CT Supreme Court cases
Mar 28th
The Connecticut Judicial Branch, in keeping with its image of being speedy and up-to-date with news and technology, just posted a new link on its website. The link is to the celebrations held in honor of the 100th Anniversary of the Connecticut State Library and Supreme Court building, which was November 10, 2010. So, you know, only 5 months late.
There actually is interesting information on that site, including really old photographs of really old dudes with names like Samuel Prentice and Silas Robinson and Elisha Carpenter, who, apparently sat on wooden chairs at floor level. No wonder it was called the Supreme Court of Errors. Now there’s an appropriate name, if there ever was one.
There’s also this lovely link to a list of all Connecticut Supreme Court (I’m just going to call it that, okay? Let the Court of Errors thing go. Act your age.) Justices, dating back to the ubiquitous and inimitable Tapping Reeve. [And if someone can explain to me just what the hell is going on with the layout of this page, I'll buy you a drink.]
But – and what I’m getting to – is this nifty little list created by world-renowned Connecticut Appellate Lawyer Wesley Horton, of some “significant” CT Supreme Court decisions.
Being someone who once went to treatment for list-addiction, I cannot but permit myself a sip o’ the ole vice and present a list of my own and invite you to do the same. So, finally, here’s a list of the most significant Connecticut Supreme Court cases, in my opinion. Obviously, since no one really gives a shit about civil cases, there are few on this list.
1. State v. Golding – holding that unpreserved errors of Constitutional magnitude can and should be reviewed by appellate courts
1a. State v. Kitchens – effectively reversing State v. Golding above and making it near impossible to get any review of any sort of unpreserved claim of Constitutional magnitude.
2. Kerrigan v. Comm’r of Public Health – gay marriage is a-okay!
3. State v. Geisler – delineating a 6-part test to evaluate claims under the State Constitution.
4. State v. Stoddard – Police are required to timely inform suspects in custody of legal counsel’s attempts to contact them and render legal assistance.
5. State v. Oquendo – declining to adopt the restricted meaning of seizure under Hodari D. and holding that Connecticut’s Constitution provides greater protection.
6. State v. Randolph – reinstating the old common law rule of favoring a strict preclusion of “propensity evidence” in non-sexual assault cases.
6a. State v. DeJesus – actually putting ink on paper to say that, in sex assault cases, once a sex offender, always a sex offender.
7. State v. Marsala – under the State Constitution, there is no such thing as a “good faith exception” to the exclusionary rule.
8. Sheff v. O’Neill – something about racial segregation and schools and who the hell knows. They’re still fighting over this one, nearly 20 years later. (No, I’m kidding. This case is very big deal.)
9. State v. Courchesne I – a death penalty reversal based on statutory construction and “plain meaning” of words written on paper, which led the legislature to pass CGS 1-2z, which essentially says mean what they mean.
10. Lozada v. Warden – that whenever the right to counsel attaches (in this case in post-conviction hearings), that right is the Sixth Amendment guarantee of the effective assistance of counsel. Prosecutors hate this one.
11. Kelo v. New London – something about eminent domain and taking and – seriously, all I remember about this is that after SCOTUS’ opinion, some justice had almost had his house taken by eminent domain or something?
12. State v. Nelson, State v. Griswold – the name should give you a hint.
13. State v. Littlejohn – proving the old adage that a criminal defendant can waive whatever the hell she wants, including the statute of limitations.
14. Kohlfuss v. Warden – there is a double jeopardy provision in the State Constitution. It’s right there, umm, taking the shape of the Due Process Clause.
15. State v. Carpenter – holding, somehow, that recklessness (as required for manslaughter) is a subcategory of specific intent (required for murder).
16. State v. Morales – entitles the defendant to a jury instruction when the police fail to preserve potentially useful evidence.
17. State v. Ledbetter; State v. Marquez; State v. Outing – slowly but surely coming in line with the modern scientific thinking on the uselessness of eyewitness identification.
I’m sure there are others you find significant. Let’s hear them in the comments.
[PS: I was really, really tempted to add another: She Who Must Not Be Named v. DiNardo, for my good friend Ryan. But I give him enough crap about it already.So I leave it to you, mischievous reader, to suggest it in the comments.]
Wrong time, wrong battle
Mar 28th
There are several “rules” of practice that all criminal defense lawyers would be well served knowing and understanding. One of them is that we must and should engage in battles with the prosecutors and courts for the sake of our general clientele. But one that is even more paramount, one that goes to the core of our mission to represent each and every client individually, is that you must never fight a battle to the detriment of a specific client.
And I get that this is even more of an issue with public defenders offices across the country, where the ever-increasing pressure of funding cuts leads to the inevitability of “taking a stand” and showing the clueless politicians in the state legislature just how devastating the impact of their poorly thought out budget reductions will go. I get that, even in the relative nirvana of Connecticut, we are severely understaffed in most of our public defender offices. And I get that it’s worse in places like Georgia and Florida and South Carolina.
But just like you’d never forgo a misdemeanor with a suspended sentence in favor of testing out your latest brilliant challenge to the constitutionality of a serious felony statute, there’s a place and a time to fight these fights. And that time isn’t at a critical stage of a criminal proceeding. So it irked me to read Bobby G.’s post today, about a seemingly office wide policy of the public defender’s office in Horry County, SC, to automatically waive all preliminary hearings for clients who are entitled to them.
South Carolina is an odd place to people from the Northeast, like me. They use terms like “general sessions courts” and “solicitors”. They still utilize a grand jury, and – although he doesn’t use it in his post – I bet they have something mechanism whereby cases are “bound over” to some other place.
But the commonality in the language we use this:
State police want to arrest judge who refused to sign arrest warrant
Mar 25th
Unless the victim was also arrested. You can’t make this shit up. And if it were April 1st today, I might laugh it off as a clever joke. But it’s not and apparently neither is this.
Here’s the lowdown, from the two meager paywall inhibited articles that I could find. State Trooper from Salisbury, CT (where watching paint dry is exciting) Mark Lauretano apparently submitted an arrest warrant for a man who got into a bar fight with someone else. The “victim” of the fight (meaning the guy who got beaten up worse), was obviously not arrested, as these things go. Judge Klatt, upon reviewing the information in the warrant declined to sign it, apparently until the “victim” was also arrested.
Judge Klatt, a former prosecutor from Death Valley Waterbury, CT, should have known better. You simply do not refuse the State Police what they want. So instead of, I don’t know, reviewing the information again to see if maybe the Judge had a point, Lauretano does the logical thing and is now seeking an arrest warrant for the Judge herself*.
Because, you know – no, actually I don’t know. He claims that:
Reasonable gibberish
Mar 22nd
(alternate tagline: because juries never convict anyone anyway)
“I am convinced, after [fourteen] years of being a judge and many years of practice before that, that the standard reasonable doubt charge in Connecticut is unsatisfactory. It is satisfactory only in the sense that it is routinely upheld by the appellate courts, which is a considerable advantage, to be sure. But over the years I’ve become convinced that jurors’ eyes glaze over when it is given and it is not fully understood and, therefore, does not do adequate justice to the parties and I believe needs to be modernized, simplified, put into plain language but, obviously, appropriate language.
Judge Jon Blue, quoted from State v. Jackson, 283 Conn. 11 (2007). That Judge Blue, a former appellate public defender, would speak his mind and attempt to craft an instruction that may approach the hitherto unthinkable: an explanation of just what those most famous words actually mean, should come as no surprise to those who are familiar with the good judge. What is surprising – and endlessly frustrating – however, is that courts all over the country have been perfectly happy to let the vagueness of that phrase persist, despite the clear knowledge that without clear guidance and definition, reasonable doubt is reduced to an nebulous gut feeling, rather than a precise application of a standard of proof. It has gotten to the point where courts are content to lazily quote the Beatles in all their peace-loving, pipe-smoking glory and implore us to “let it be“.
Before I embark on a vituperative rant, let’s at least look at the current definition of reasonable doubt as given in CT:
The meaning of reasonable doubt can be arrived at by emphasizing the word reasonable. It is not a surmise, a guess or mere conjecture.1 It is not a doubt raised by anyone simply for the sake of raising a doubt. It is such a doubt as, in serious affairs that concern you, you would heed; that is, such a doubt as would cause reasonable men and women to hesitate to act upon it in matters of importance.2 It is not hesitation springing from any feelings of pity or sympathy for the accused or any other person who might be affected by your decision. It is, in other words, a real doubt, an honest doubt, a doubt that has its foundation in the evidence or lack of evidence.3 It is doubt that is honestly entertained and is reasonable in light of the evidence after a fair comparison and careful examination of the entire evidence.4
Proof beyond a reasonable doubt does not mean proof beyond all doubt; the law does not require absolute certainty on the part of the jury before it returns a verdict of guilty.5 The law requires that, after hearing all the evidence, if there is something in the evidence or lack of evidence that leaves in your minds, as reasonable men and women, a reasonable doubt as to the guilt of the accused, then the accused must be given the benefit of that doubt and acquitted. Proof beyond a reasonable doubt is proof that precludes every reasonable hypothesis except guilt and is inconsistent with any other rational conclusion.6














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