fifth amendment
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
see end of post for info on this picture
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.]
The obscenity of risk of injury
Sep 6th
Connecticut General Statute 53-21 states, in relevant part:
a) Any person who (1) wilfully or unlawfully causes or permits any child under the age of sixteen years to be placed in such a situation that the life or limb of such child is endangered, the health of such child is likely to be injured or the morals of such child are likely to be impaired, or does any act likely to impair the health or morals of any such child, or (2) has contact with the intimate parts, as defined in section 53a-65, of a child under the age of sixteen years or subjects a child under sixteen years of age to contact with the intimate parts of such person, in a sexual and indecent manner likely to impair the health or morals of such child
is guilty of “Risk of Injury to a Minor”. A conviction under subsection (1) is a Class C felony carrying a maximum prison term of 10 years and a conviction under subsection (2) is a Class B felony, carrying a maximum prison term of 20 years.
The motivation behind the enacting of this statute is noble:
The general purpose of § 53-21 is to protect the physical and psychological well-being of children from the potentially harmful conduct of adults.
State v. Payne, 240 Conn. 766. Yet the statute is so poorly worded and generally vague, that it has required years upon years of judicial interpretation and gloss to enable it to pass Constitutional muster:
We then proceeded to review the general features of § 53-21, noting that, “on its face, § 53-21 fails to articulate a definite standard for determining whether the conduct of [Schriver was] permitted or prohibited. ‘Any act’ may violate the statute so long as it is ‘likely to impair’ a minor’s health or morals. Standing alone, the phrase ‘any act’ provides no guidance to potential violators, police officers or juries, particularly because specific intent is not an element of the offense as charged in this case. . . . Nor is the focus of the statute measurably narrowed by the phrase ‘likely to impair.’ In its ordinary meaning, this phrase would seem to authorize police officers and jurors to determine culpability subjectively, on an ad hoc basis. Rather than providing objective certainty, this phrase compounds the vagueness of the statute because it invites jurors to base criminal liability on their own moral [predilections] and personal predictions of likely harm.” (Citations omitted.) Id., 461-62. After observing that other jurisdictions had deemed similar statutes unconstitutional, we concluded that, “in like fashion, § 53-21 fails to manifest minimal guidelines by which innocent acts can be objectively and foreseeably distinguished from conduct that violates the statute. . . . [Consequently], the constitutionality of § 53-21 depends upon a determination of the extent to which prior decisions of this court have supplied sufficient guidelines to save the statute from its facial invalidity.” (Citation omitted.) Id., 462.
Although the risk of injury statute was amended in 1995 to forbid expressly the sexual and indecent touching of intimate parts, the more general statutory language that proscribes an “act likely to impair the health or morals of . . . [a] child,” in subdivision (1) of § 53-21, has remained unchanged since this court’s decision in Schriver. Compare General Statutes § 53-21 (a) (1) with General Statutes (Rev. to 1987) § 53-21. The passage of time alone has not cured the facial vagueness of § 53-21 (1), nor has it altered the need to adhere to constitutional principles of due process of law in the application and enforcement of that statute. Cf. State v. Schriver, supra, 207 Conn. 459-61. Thus, the constitutionality of § 53-21 (1), as that statute is applied in any given case, continues to depend predominantly “upon a determination of the extent to which prior decisions of this court have supplied sufficient guidelines to save the statute from its facial invalidity.” Id., 462. In order to render § 53-21 (1) constitutionally viable, the decisions of this court must state with reasonable particularity the conduct that is proscribed by that statute.
State v. Robert H. The extent to which the Connecticut Supreme Court has gone to save an admittedly infirm statute is staggering. A statute that, upon fair reading, gives notice that a very limited set of actions are proscribed, has been judicially expanded to cover every perceived slight against a minor that a prosecutor with an infertile imagination can be counted upon to summon.
But that’s not my particular peeve with this statute and its judicially emboldened meaning. My grudge lies with the (lack of) meaning of the all-too-important phrase “likely to impair”.
Where were you on April 17, 1966?
Jul 22nd
Ask anyone that question and they’ll look at you like you’re crazy (and you might get some interesting responses from those that weren’t born yet). But try it. If you were alive then, think back. Think back to that April day or any other April day that year or the next year or in fact, any day between 1966 and 1972 and tell me where you were specifically between the general periods of any time of day or night.
You can’t. It’s impossible. 44 years have passed since 1966 and 38 since 1972. Yet, for “G.R.H.” of Louisiana it is this lack of photographic memory and the inability to have the foresight to note and document his whereabouts on all those days in those 6 years decades ago that has landed him in jail for the rest of his life.
In 2006, GRH [opinion here] was accused of sexually assaulting a minor, as you may have guessed, between 1966 and 1972. The complainant, 44 at the time of the accusations, had an alleged clear memory of the assaults perpetrated by the defendant, some 40 years ago.
There was no corroboration, no contemporaneous disclosure, no other instances of sexual abuse by this defendant, nothing. Just the say-so of a 44 year old woman, almost an entire lifetime after it allegedly occurred.1
Imagine, as Justice Douglas did, dissenting in United States v. Marion, that the 44 year delay occurred after GRH was arrested and not before. Certainly, none would argue that his right to a speedy trial was not violated. And the concerns with such a delay are certainly mitigated after the institution of a criminal prosecution: you know there is an action pending, so you hire an investigator, document your memories, speak to witnesses and firm up their recollections. When someone is not prosecuted and doesn’t sense one coming (having done nothing wrong), there is no reason why anyone would keep track of whatever alibis they might have had or whatever witnesses may have had to offer.
Justice Douglas, quoting Baron Alderson in 1844:
Deterrent? Not Actually
Jul 14th
all your DNA are belong to us
The story of the role of DNA in the criminal justice system is quite interesting. Heralded as the ultimate in crime solving, DNA has slowly infiltrated the collective consciousness of the entire nation and infected our lawyers, judges and jurors. It’s a double-edged sword, to be sure: DNA can accurately (or maybe not) identify an individual who leaves behind some trace materials at or in a crime scene, thereby implicating or exculpating a suspect. Fueled by DNA based shows like CSI, jurors became more demanding and mistakenly over reliant on the science, producing the “CSI effect”, DNA, on the other hand, has drawbacks that defense lawyers try to highlight – which I’m not sure have sunk in yet – like the fact that you it can’t tell you when it was deposited. DNA is most famous for high-profile exonerations of people already convicted of crimes and serving lengthy prison sentences.
But DNA is much more than that. As the science grows, the uses and implications of the genetic markers grows by leaps and bounds (see here and for the future, see here).
Which is why DNA, and the collection of DNA, is so attractive to law enforcement agencies. Unfortunately, as is often the case, the evolution of science and technology and the desired application of these new uses conflicts to some degree with the core protections of the Constitution.
Just yesterday, a 3 judge panel of the 9th Circuit heard an appeal in a lawsuit filed by the ACLU challenging the legality of California’s DNA-collection-upon-arrest law. That’s essentially all there is to the law: collect the DNA of everyone ever arrested. (Connecticut tried to pass a similar bill two years ago and it was ultimately rejected.) Under some circumstances, the DNA may never be deleted from their database:
Twice in jeopardy, 40 years apart
May 17th
Back in 2007, when the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania announced its intent to prosecute William Barnes for the death of officer Walter Barclay, eyebrows were raised. Barnes, you see, had already been tried for the 1966 shooting of Barclay and had been found guilty of attempted murder. Why was he not charged with murder at the first trial? Because Barclay wasn’t dead yet.
He died in 2007, more than 40 years after the shooting. The Commonwealth, already having exacted 26 years from Barnes, now 74, for the attempted murder, now seeks to exact some more for the eventual death of Ofc. Barclay.
Barnes’ second trial for the act of shooting Barclay began today in Philadelphia. The Commonwealth will attempt to prove that the gunshot wound suffered by Barclay in ’66 – which left him wheelchair bound – caused the urinary tract infection in 2006 that ultimately killed him.
The defense will seek to show the jury that the Commonwealth cannot prove the causal link, relying in part on the fact that Barclay, despite being confined to a wheelchair:
was able to drive a specialized car, walk with braces, earn a college degree, marry and divorce three times and perform sexually, had been in three car accidents and had fallen out of his motorized wheel chair twice during the 41 years that he lived after being shot
Mark Bennett, in a comment to Scott’s post above, asked in 2007:
I must be missing something, because those articles don’t even discuss this question: How does a conviction for attempted murder not jeopardy-bar a prosecution for murder when the victim dies?
An idle thought on the Boykin canvass
Feb 12th
Much as been written and said about Boykin v. Alabama since Justice Douglas wrote the decision in 1969. At best, it is a necessary safeguard to ensure that guily pleas, the bulk of the resolutions in the criminal justice system, are made voluntarily. At worst, it is a prophylactic.
A defendant entering a guilty plea waives several fundamental constitutional rights. Boykin v. Alabama, 395 U.S. 238, 243 (1969). “We therefore require the record affirmatively to disclose that the defendant’s choice was made intelligently and voluntarily.” (Internal quotation marks omitted.) State v. Andrews, supra, 253 Conn. 503. To satisfy that requirement, a defendant must be fully aware of the direct consequences of his or her plea. See Brady v. United States, 397 U.S. 742, 755 (1970). Direct consequences are generally defined as consequences that are “definite, immediate and [that have] largely automatic effect[s] on the range of the defendant’s punishment.” Cuthrell v. Director, 475 F.2d 1364, 1366 (4th Cir.), cert. denied, 414 U.S. 1005 (1973).
State v. Groppi. The Boykin canvas is limited to three Constitutional aspects: First, is the privilege against compulsory self-incrimination.. . [s]econd, is the right to trial by jury… [t]hird, is the right to confront one’s accusers.’ Boykin v. Alabama, [supra].
In fact, the Boykin canvass is now part of most state statutes or rules of court. Here, in CT, it is codified in Conn. Prac. Bk. S. 39-19, which provides:
The judicial authority shall not accept the plea without first addressing the defendant personally and determining that he or she fully understands:
- The nature of the charge to which the plea is offered;
- The mandatory minimum sentence, if any;
- The fact that the statute for the particular offense does not permit the sentence to be suspended;
- The maximum possible sentence on the charge, including, if there are several charges, the maximum sentence possible from consecutive sentences and including, when applicable, the fact that a different or additional punishment may be authorized by reason of a previous conviction; and
- The fact that he or she has the right to plead not guilty or to persist in that plea if it has already been made, and the fact that he or she has the right to be tried by a jury or a judge and that at that trial the defendant has the right to the assistance of counsel, the right to confront and cross-examine witnesses against him or her, and the right not to be compelled to incriminate himself or herself.
But even there, strict compliance is not required:
Between a void and a hard place
Dec 20th
You are Paul Clarke. You live in a small town in England. You’ve had a run-in or two with the law, but nothing serious. One day, you find a black bag a the end of the garden. You think it’s a bag of rubbish (garbage, for you non-Brits). You open it and inside find a shotgun. Being civic minded (plus a little lazy), you take the gun to the police a few days later and turn it in.
Fast forward a number of months. Where do you think you are now, Paul?
Awaiting sentencing for possession of a shotgun Sentenced to 12 months suspended, that’s where. An offence which carries a mandatory-minimum penalty of 5 years. Jack of Kent, a British blougger, has written extensively on this case and it’s well worth the read (via the deadly Charon). As with all strict liability crimes and crimes that involve mandatory-minimum sentences, the befuddling question here is the exercise of discretion to prosecute Mr. Clarke. While the police were unwilling to comment on the case, Jack of Kent was able to enter into a lengthy e-mail exchange with the Crown Prosecution Service, who explained their decision to prosecute thusly:
Paul Clarke claimed that he found the shot gun in his garden and decided to bring it to the police station. Evidence showed that he was in possession of the gun and the cartridges for some days earlier and that at that time he did not try to contact the police, for them to collect the weapon. He could not explain why he waited some days before bringing the gun to the police station and why he did not contacted the police for them to come and collect the gun.
Careful what you wish for
Jan 23rd
Someone needs to explain to me why this case ever made it to SCOTUS. Actually, I have several questions:
- What are you asking for, exactly?
- Is this a case of getting too greedy or too literal?
- Did anyone consider the ramifications of an unfavorable decision in this case? (Let me spell it out for you: it could spell complete evisceration of a well-established and solidly pro-defense line of cases starting with Santobello)
- How do you get selected to argue in front of SCOTUS and then produce a complete clunker [pdf] (and not just one counsel – both!)?
- Does anyone think either lawyer has any clue as to what is being asked of them?
I fear that Puckett might win the battle, but lose the war. That would be bad news for all of us.
Fifth Amendment Right to Counsel
Jan 13th
After reading the oral argument transcript of Montejo v. Louisiana today, I decided to refresh my memory of the Fifth Amendment Right to Counsel (starting with Miranda). In particular, I was curious to see if anyone had written a paper about the evolution (if any) of this right to counsel. I haven’t come across anything yet, but I did stumble across this.
It is an FBI law enforcement bulletin from 2002, which describes in some depth the 5th and 6th Amendment Rights to Counsel and their respective scopes. It’s a good refresher, if nothing else. Though you do have to wade through the “tips to law enforcement”.
Enjoy.
Speedy trial: whose responsibility is it?
Oct 17th
How many defense attorneys does it take to screw up a case? Or better yet, how badly malfunctioning does a public defender system have to be to get a court to blame it for delays in the criminal justice system?
Back in March, the Vermont Supreme Court issued a very curious opinion reversing a conviction for failure to prosecute in a timely fashion. The Court held that the three-years spent by the defendant awaiting trial violated his right to a speedy trial. Which would be fine if that were all to the story.
The reason for the delay? The defendant’s various public defenders.
In arriving at this decision, we acknowledge that much of the delay in prosecuting defendant resulted from the inaction of several of the assigned counsel who represented defendant during the three years he awaited trial. As we discuss in detail below, however, the inaction of assigned counsel does not relieve the state of its duty, through implementation of the criminal justice system, to provide defendant with a constitutionally guaranteed speedy trial. Indeed, the defender general’s office is part of the criminal justice system and an arm of the state. When, as in this case, a defendant presses for, but is denied, a speedy trial because of the inaction of assigned counsel or a breakdown in the public defender system, the failure of the system to provide the defendant a constitutionally guaranteed speedy trial is attributable to the prosecution, and not defendant.
The Court finds that
irrespective of the reason for the delay, egregious delay in bringing an incarcerated defendant to trial must be factored against the state in a speedy-trial analysis because, as the Supreme Court emphasized in Barker, it is ultimately the government’s responsibility to bring a defendant to trial in a timely matter. See 407 U.S. at 529 (holding that “the primary burden [is] on the courts and the prosecutors to assure that cases are brought to trial”)
You can read the facts for yourself, but what is important to recognize here is that Vermont is not the only state facing such problems with its public defender system. Normally, a lawsuit would be the appropriate way to remedy the lack of funding, but this certainly may make some ears perk up.
I will reserve judgment on whether the VT Supreme Court was right or wrong, but I get the sense that what the VT Supreme Court tried to remedy was what happens to every client in almost every system (albeit not to this extent), and that everyone accepts as the price of doing business.
Well, everyone except the legislature and the voting public, who are generally outraged that things take so long to go to trial. Maybe they shouldn’t take so long? Or maybe we shouldn’t be creating so many new laws and calling for “hard on crime” policies that clog our systems and lead to overworked public defenders.
TMYK: Due Process edition
Jul 1st
Apparently, it is not a violation of due process in the state of CT if there is not an adequate factual basis for a plea stated on the record. See Paulsen v. Manson, 203 Conn. 484 (1987). Who’da thunk it?
Is videotaping interrogations a better solution?
Feb 24th
In my post discussing the demise of Miranda, I approvingly quoted the author’s mention of videotaping confessions as a possible solution. Scott writes today and warns us not to get too invested in videotaped confessions and why they may not be the answer. He is correct in that videotaped confessions are not very helpful and may end up providing the final nail in the coffin of a factually innocent defendant who goes to trial.
Scott’s post seems to focus only on confessions, as opposed to videotaping the entire interrogation(s). That’s the mistake. If we tape the entire interrogation instead, though, these reservations may not exist. Here‘s a report from The Justice Project which argues that entire interrogations must be videotaped. After all, it is the interrogation that Miranda seeks to safeguard. So why should its “replacement” focus only on the confession?
It is the interrogation that needs to be videotaped to provide a complete picture of the voluntariness of a confession. Of what use is a confession only? That is principally the same as a written statement. By that point, the defendant has been broken down and tricked, cajoled or threatened into confessing. If he seems resigned on videotape while delivering his confession, it may be a product either of his guilt overwhelming him or of fatigue and submission.
A google search for videotaped interrogations provides a wealth of information: some as far back as 2002 from Chicago and some more recently from California.
There is, of course, the initial hurdle of resistance from law enforcement to overcome, but as with lineup and ID procedures, the wall is slowly starting to crumble. As of April, 2006, there were 450 law enforcement departments nationwide that required videotaping of interrogations. From Northwestern Law, here [pdf] is a list of agencies in the country today employing some form of videotaping and here [pdf] is a fantastic report (that I intend to read in-depth) from 2004 chronicling police experiences with videotaping interrogations. The New York County Lawyers’ Association has published this report [pdf] calling for interrogations to be videotaped. It analyzes statutes and regulations in various states.
In Connecticut, a pilot program was approved last year for certain jurisdictions. I haven’t heard anything about it or how it is working. Anyone who knows want to chime in? Did any jurisdictions actually sign up for the pilot program? [Previous coverage here and here.]
Once concern from law enforcement is that it may be difficult to videotape interrogations in all circumstances. I don’t think that’s true. If a suspect is arrested in a remote area, cops have two options: (1) use the in-car video system or (2) wait till you get to a police station. What am I missing here?
If the entirety of an interrogation is recorded – videotaped – then it certainly would give the viewer an accurate picture of the voluntariness of an eventual confession.
The only obvious problem that I can see is defining when such a recording must commence. Is “custody” too late in the game? What if there is an audio recording of initial contact and then video recording of an interrogation? I guess the answer will depend on what studies show to be first time that coercive tactics are used. I haven’t done enough research to provide a reasonable answer, but I think it is one that can be answered.
Videotaped interrogations may not be a panacea, but I think they will be a hell of a lot better than what we have now.
photo credit: werewegian
W(h)ither Miranda?
Feb 23rd
A new paper asks the very question: Has Miranda become ineffective? Not because it’s not needed anymore, but because police departments are finding ways to get around it while achieving the same results. The conclusion is pretty bleak:
So how well do Miranda’s safeguards fare overall? I believe that we have a Miranda rule that is somewhat limited in reach, that sometimes locates warnings and waivers within the heart of a highly-structured interrogation process, that provides admonitions that many suspects do not understand, and that appears not to afford many suspects a meaningful way to assert their Fifth Amendment rights. As a prophylactic device to protect suspects’ privilege against self incrimination, I believe that Miranda is largely dead. I would welcome compelling evidence to the contrary (or proof that California is a complete outlier), but I do not believe such evidence exists.
This paper does an excellent analysis of the Court’s decision in Miranda and subsequent decisions that defined gutted its meaning and scope:
But a primary virtue of Miranda is, in theory, giving clear guidance and bright line rules to police, judges and prosecutors, thus avoiding difficult individualized assessments. Thus, it is not so much that the Court has retreated after Miranda but rather that the one-size-fits-all safeguards put in place by the Miranda Court could never have functioned as intended. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that a far higher proportion of defendants than the Court initially anticipated have been left uninformed and unempowered by form warnings.
So whither Miranda? Will it provide more benefit to abandon Miranda? The paper suggests legislative action:
One possible outcome might be legislation that directly regulates the police and affords greater protection to suspects than Miranda currently offers, perhaps in conjunction with a modified system of warnings. A legislature might, for example, require warnings in very simple language and instruct police to give them prior to any suspect interviews or interrogations. It could require that all interrogations be videotaped, a movement that is slowly gaining ground.
H/T: Appellate.
Update: I should have checked before posting. SimpleJustice also has some thoughts.
Degrees of kinship and same-sex incest? ARO 2/11/08
Feb 12th
The title of this post is flippant, but the case it refers to is rather interesting. In State v. John F.M., the Supreme Court reversed the Appellate Court’s reversal of a conviction. John F. M. was convicted of sexual assault in the third degree under the sex with a kindred person subsection. It provides in relevant part:
(a) A person is guilty of sexual assault in the third degree when such person (2) engages in sexual intercourse with another person whom the actor knows to be related to him or her within any of the degrees of kindred specified in section 46b-21.
46b-21 provides:
No man may marry his mother, grandmother, daughter, granddaughter, sister, aunt, niece, stepmother or stepdaughter, and no woman may marry her father, grandfather, son, grandson, brother, uncle, nephew, stepfather or stepson. Any marriage within these degrees is void.
So you can’t have sex with any of those people either. John F.M. first raised a sufficiency challenge – that based on the defendant’s testimony, the jury could not conclude that there did, indeed, exist such a relationship (the girl in question was the defendant’s step-daughter) and that the sex assault statute violates the equal protection clause because it prohibits only heterosexual conduct.
The defendant relied, in his first claim, on an 1827 decision of the CT Supreme Court – State v. Roswell, which held that the relationship between the two must be proven by the state other than by the testimony of the defendant. The Court engages in an analysis and discussion of Connecticut caselaw from 1827 onwards that erodes Roswell and overrules it.
Indeed, since Schweitzer was decided, this court repeatedly has reaffirmed the principle that, “cohabitation as husband and wife is [admissible] evidence, and often sufficient evidence, that the parties have been validly married, but does not in itself constitute a marriage.”
The Court also recaps the law on admission of a party:
[S]tatements made out of court by a party-opponent are universally deemed admissible when offered against him . . . so long as they are relevant and material to issues in the case. . . . [T]he vast weight of authority, judicial, legislative, and scholarly, supports the admissibility without restriction of any statement of a party offered against that party at trial.
The Court also found that the Appellate Court improperly extended the (overruled) Roswell rule of marital relationships to evidence of parentage.
The Court then turns to the equal protection argument. This, too, it resolves in favor of the state, but in my opinion, their argument is strained and it seems like they are reaching. Result oriented is what these opinions are called.
The claim was that the sex assault statute, which prohibits intercourse between people related in the manner defined in 46b-21, violates equal protection, because the “degrees of kinship” are defined in heterosexual terms.
The Court engages in some statutory construction:
To resolve the state’s claim, we must determine whether the phrase ‘‘degrees of kindred’’ in § 53a-72a (a) (2) incorporates by reference the precise male-female unions enumerated in § 46b-21.
For some reason, it looks at what “degrees” and “kindred” mean and determine that:
Accordingly, § 53a-72a (a) (2) plainly does not incorporate the precise male-female unions enumerated in § 46b-21 but, rather, incorporates only the proximity of relation specified therein, namely, parent-child, grandparent-grandchild, sibling-sibling, aunt/uncle-niece/nephew and stepparent-stepchild. Because § 53a-72a (a) (2) applies equally to both same sex and opposite sex sexual intercourse between individuals who are related within the degrees of kinship specified in § 46b-21, it does not create the allegedly unconstitutional classification and, therefore, does not violate the equal protection clause of the federal constitution.
It does seem absurd that the Statute would prohibit heterosexual relationships and not same-sex relationships, but that statute was likely written before same-sex relationships were much accepted as they are today. To that extent, is it the Court’s job to rewrite the intent of the statute as it is written? The legislature surely could have amended the statute at any point in the past so many years – especially since civil unions have been on their mind – and they did not.
Anyway, it’s interesting. It takes a statute that is pretty darn specific and broadens its application. I think I got most of it. If I missed something, feel free to leave a comment, Marty.
There’s actually a reversal in the Appellate Court (amongst some affirmances), but I think this post has gone on long enough, so I’ll leave you with a quote. At least there isn’t much chance it will get reversed.
Because the state concedes, however, and we agree, that the defendant’s conviction of criminal mischief in the first degree cannot be reconciled with his conviction of arson in the third degree because the conviction of each crime depends on proof of irreconcilably inconsistent states of mind, the judgment must be reversed as to those crimes and the case remanded for a new trial.
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