Category Archives: habeas

Innocence on a clock

1 Reply

When I first turned my eye toward law school and the criminal justice system, the echoing refrain was that we, in this country, were the best. The criminal justice system, the jury system, the resources, the level of intelligence on both sides of the aisle on the bench all combined to create the best that the world had to offer. Law school, immersing us in the vagaries and nuances of Constitutional and criminal law, making us read and learn awe-inspiring quotes from Justices past, only served to reinforce that notion.

We were fooled. Years later, with years of practice and actual experience under my belt, I’ve come to the conclusion that while the system may still be the “best” in the world, it is only so by comparison to the others that are currently in existence (and even that I doubt, but since I’m no comparative law scholar, what do I know?). That makes me sad, both for the systems of other countries and our own.

There are two indelible truths about the system here in the US: it is the criminal conviction system and finality is king (an idea that deserves a fuller post; upcoming).

And when you combine those two inescapable conclusions, you get Lee v. Lampert (pdf). Lee, you see, got stuck in that quagmire that is AEDPA. Lee, you may also see, has proven that he is actually innocent of the crimes of which he stands convicted. And yet, because he missed the statutory, non-jurisdictional, arbitrary deadline for filing a federal habeas corpus petition, he will get no justice. Continue reading →

That bus is not for your client

4 Replies

The internet has changed everything. Every fool with no money has a blog, every newspaper website caters to the lowest common denominator and every twit can Tweet for free. A percentage of these are former and current clients, both gruntled and dis.

Back in the old days, when you walked 20 miles to work, uphill, in blizzards, with no shoes, the only medium for clients to express their displeasure was filing a grievance with the state bar. Now, clients are able to air their grievances in a more public forum, with no restrictions that their complaints be made in good faith or sworn to.

And since you are what the internet says you are, how far can (or should) one go in response, asks Mike C:

What if a former client writes: “My lawyer was terrible.  He never returned my calls or e-mails.  I had a million-dollar case, and she blew it!”

Some prospective clients might read that blog entry, and thus never call the lawyer.  Current clients might get nervous.  Other lawyers might decline to refer a case to the bad lawyer.

Under the current Rules of Professional Conduct, it would certainly be unethical for the lawyer to write: “John Smith called me 5 times each day.  He asked the same questions over and over again.  After evaluating his case through discovery, we realized his case was marginal.  We told him to settle the case for $25,000 – nuisance value.  He refused.  The trial court dismissed the case on summary judgment.  Now he’s angry.  By the way, you can read the case filings here, here, and here to decide for yourself whether we blew a huge case.”

Does that Rule make sense?  A lawyer can lose business.  Online reputation matters – not for a lawyer’s ego – but for his business.  The law offers trademark protection.  A brand matters.  A lawyer is only as good as her name.  Shouldn’t a lawyer be able to breach some aspects of the attorney-client privilege in order to protect her name?

First off, this really is nothing new, at least for those of us in the high-volume criminal defense business. I’ve had clients tell me they didn’t want me to represent them and wanted me to, in the same week, based on what their then-cellmates told them about me. You are as good as your current client’s former cellmate says you are.

Second, the differences between revealing confidences to defend against a disciplinary proceeding and responding to a blog post or newspaper comment are quite obvious. The grievance proceeding requires you to defend against the accusations, for failing to do so affects your livelihood.

But what of Mike’s point of the reputation of the lawyer in this age where more and more people are relying on the internet to secure representation? I have the wherewithal to explore any concerns I might have about a prospective lawyer with real people who know that lawyer and that lawyer’s work, but might a potential client? Why shouldn’t a lawyer have the ability to respond, albeit in a limited fashion to that Festivus tradition?

Scott’s take is similarly multi-faceted. He, too, recognizes the need to permit the attorney to have the ability to respond in some fashion, but cautions us that it is constrained in many ways by our continuing obligation to our clients:

[In response to Mike's hypothetical] I’m not entirely clear that’s accurate.  Waiver of privilege is an all or nothing proposition.  Once a client discloses confidential communications to others, it constitutes a waiver.  It’s the client’s to waive, and there’s nothing to prevent her from doing so.  It may be stupid and foolhardy, and the client may not realize the significance of disclosure and waiver, but it’s her right to let the world know what happened within the sanctity of the attorney/client relationship.  Once waived, however, the privilege is extinguished.  Like pregnancy, it’s not just a little waived.  It’s waived.  End of privilege.

Thus, while there may be no ethical or legal impediment to the use of privileged communications to fend off an attack, and while waiver means waiver, we nonetheless have a duty to disclose no more than is necessary to respond, and a duty to do no harm to the client in the process.  While the best defense may be a good offense under other circumstances, we’re constrained to use the least harmful defense possible.

Clearly, the limits placed on our ability to lash back at those who might lash out at us puts lawyers at something of a disadvantage in a street fight, and certainly an attack on the internet can bear all the indicia of a street fight.

I don’t know much about the grievance process and the extent of confidential communications and privileged information that one can disclose in response to a grievance, but there is another area of the law in which confidences are routinely disclosed and that’s the post-conviction setting.

Continue reading →

Preempting Strickland

4 Replies

The Sixth Amendment right of the “accused” to assistance of counsel in “all criminal prosecutions” is limited by its terms: “it does not attach until  a prosecution is commenced.” McNeil v. Wisconsin, 501 U. S. 171, 175 (1991); see also Moran v. Burbine, 475 U. S. 412, 430 (1986). We have, for  purposes of the right to counsel, pegged commencement to “‘the initiation of adversary judicial criminal proceedings—whether by way of formal  charge, preliminary hearing, indictment, information, or arraignment,’” United States v. Gouveia, 467 U. S. 180, 188 (1984) (quoting Kirby v.  Illinois, 406 U. S. 682, 689 (1972) (plurality opinion)). The rule is not “mere formalism,” but a recognition of the point at which “the government has committed itself to prosecute,” “the adverse positions of government and defendant have solidified,” and the accused “finds himself faced with  the prosecutorial forces of organized society, and immersed in the intricacies of substantive and procedural criminal law.” Kirby, supra, at 689.

Rothgery v. Gillespie County (my prior post on Rothgery here). The importance of the Sixth Amendment right to counsel was underscored by the Supreme Court in United States v. Cronic:

Of all the rights that an accused person has, the right to be represented by counsel is by far the most pervasive for it affects his ability to assert any other rights he may have.

In McMann v. Richardson, the Court recognize the right to counsel to mean “the right to effective assistance of counsel”. Drawing on the mandate of this most excellent quote from Marbury v. Madison (“every right, when withheld, must have a remedy, and every injury its proper redress”), the Court, in Strickland, gave teeth (however blunt) to that right, requiring a new trial for a defendant whose conviction was obtained in violation of the Sixth Amendment.

But all of this – Strickland, Cronic, even the quote in Marbury – is somewhat contradictory and rather backward looking. On one hand, these rights attach at the very institution of a criminal proceeding and counsel has tremendous duties and responsibilities to ensure that the defendant has a fair trial:

Representation of a criminal defendant entails certain basic duties. Counsel’s function is to assist the defendant, and hence counsel owes the client a duty of loyalty, a duty to avoid conflicts of interest. See Cuyler v. Sullivan. From counsel’s function as assistant to the defendant derive the overarching duty to advocate the defendant’s cause and the more particular duties to consult with the defendant on important decisions and to keep the defendant informed of important developments in the course of the prosecution. Counsel also has a duty to bring to bear such skill and knowledge as will render the trial a reliable adversarial testing process. See Powell v. Alabama.

On the other hand, any vindication of this Sixth Amendment right must come after a conviction is obtained. Thus, the “two-pronged” approach to deciding ineffectiveness claims: Continue reading →

Institutional coddling

26 Replies

Lawyers are coddled, writes Rick Casey of the Houston Chronicle, because they can’t be sued unless a client’s conviction is overturned. They’re coddled because they’re not monetarily liable for any errors they make that result in a conviction.

Bennett takes a bite at the apple, which in turn causes Greenfield to jump in. Bennett first:

The aim of the legal system—civil and criminal—when someone is sentenced to more time through the fault of his lawyer should be to reduce that person’s sentence, rather than to compensate him for it. Getting lawyers to help fix their own mistakes should take priority over getting them to pay up.

A rule that encourages lawyers who make mistakes that harm their clients to come clean is preferable to one that encourages them to stonewall. Allowing clients to sue lawyers because their sentences are too long encourages lawyers to stonewall. As the law stands, even with no practical sanction, too many criminal defense lawyers treat an ineffective-assistance claim as a personal affront; better lawyers treat it as one last opportunity to help the client get free. Add a financial penalty, though, and it’ll be only the rare (or well-insured) lawyer who tries to help his client get his sentence reduced.

So the rule that a person who hasn’t been acquitted can’t sue his lawyer for negligence, even if that negligence resulted in a lengthier sentence, benefits not only the criminal defense bar but also—and maybe more so—the wrongfully sentenced.

Bennett mentions the problem I have with coddled lawyers, but only in passing. Greenfield places the blame squarely on our shoulders:

The mistake is a problem, but not the most significant problem. The one that undermines our integrity, and gives rise to Rick Casey’s complaint, is our inability to admit our error and correct it. Rather than concede error, lawyers try to bury it. [...]

Rick Casey’s issue is real, and it’s getting worse rather than better. It was a problem before, and is more of a problem today. We are coddled, and we coddle ourselves. No amount of lip service paid to the defendant we failed, who sits in a prison cell while lawyers ingratiate themselves with others to get more twitter love, cares how many followers we have. This mutual admiration society with people we don’t even know is not a substitute for having the guts to own up to mistakes so that human beings don’t spend a second longer suffering for them than they should.

The answer isn’t disclosing whether we possess malpractice insurance. The answer is being a real criminal defense lawyer, warts and all, rather than just pretending to be one for the benefit of being part of the gang. Do the hard work that minimizes the potential for mistakes. But when a screw-up happens, as it invariably will, make it right.

They’re both right. We are coddled. But they don’t focus on the other “third prong”, as it were, of the coddling. It doesn’t just come from the fraternity of lawyers, but from on high. The coddling of lawyers is institutionalized in our jurisprudence. From the collective mistrust and offhand dismissal of allegations of ineffective assistance that pervades the criminal bar to the vast legal opinions that ridicule such claims to the institutional roadblocks to even getting judicial review of the mistakes made by lawyers in their handling of cases.

Ask anyone who’s tried an ineffective assistance of counsel case. The coddling begins at the beginning. First, the community of habeas corpus lawyers are treated as lepers; outsiders on the lunatic fringes of the criminal defense bar. Trial lawyers are dismissive and uncooperative. Clients seeking redress via The Great Writ are viewed as whiners, their lawyers are traitors. Files aren’t turned over, communication is non-existent and the defenses are raised to maximum alert.

Habeas petitioners then have to jump through unmanageable hoops to actually get the merits of their claims heard by courts. Procedural default, deliberate bypass, cause and prejudice are institutional tools designed to protect the “finality” of convictions and to punish the defendant for failing to do that which a lawyer should have done and didn’t: provide effective assistance and own up to mistakes. The jurisprudence places the onus on the pro-se defendant to recognize that a) his lawyer has messed up and b) that he has an avenue for redress.

And if this defendant is somehow able to surmount the gargantuan task of getting a court to consider the merits, he is faced with the three-headed monster: an uncooperative trial lawyer, a skeptical, cynical and weary judge and a veritable landfill of caselaw that is designed to thwart his every effort to ensure that “justice” is done in his case.

Judicial scrutiny of counsel’s performance must be highly deferential. It is all too tempting for a defendant to second-guess counsel’s assistance after conviction or adverse sentence, and it is all too easy for a court, examining counsel’s defense after it has proved unsuccessful, to conclude that a particular act or omission of counsel was unreasonable. Cf. Engle v. Isaac, 456 U. S. 107, 133-134 (1982). A fair assessment of attorney performance requires that every effort be made to eliminate the distorting effects of hindsight, to reconstruct the circumstances of counsel’s challenged conduct, and to evaluate the conduct from counsel’s perspective at the time. Because of the difficulties inherent in making the evaluation, a court must indulge a strong presumption that counsel’s conduct falls within the wide range of reasonable professional assistance; that is, the defendant must overcome the presumption that, under the circumstances, the challenged action “might be considered sound trial strategy.” See Michel v. Louisiana, supra, at 101. There are countless ways to provide effective assistance in any given case. Even the best criminal defense attorneys would not defend a particular client in the same way. See Goodpaster, 690 The Trial for Life: Effective Assistance of Counsel in Death Penalty Cases, 58 N. Y. U. L. Rev. 299, 343 (1983).

Strickland v. Washington, 466 U.S. 668 (1984). Courts are even given the power to deny the petitioner relief on either prong of Strickland:
Continue reading →

Effective misadvice is ineffective

2 Replies

[Or: Leave your ego in law school]

When Ahmed Kenyatta Ebron was told by his lawyer that he should reject the State’s offer and instead plead guilty without an agreement because “he couldn’t do much worse or words to that effect”, he did what all of us usually hope our clients do: take our advice.

At this open plea, armed with the client’s record and an unfavorable pre-sentence investigation report, the judge imposed a sentence of 11 years to serve, 5 more than the State’s offer of 6.

Mr. Ebron, relying on counsel’s advice, is serving 5 more years than he should be. For now, at least. His conviction has been reversed, based on ineffective assistance of counsel, and that reversal has survived the Appellate Court (I’m not optimistic about its chances at the Supreme Court).

The events leading up to Mr. Ebron’s conviction, the habeas itself and the aftermath raise several points.

First, it is easy to forget that at the end of the day, we are in a service industry. As criminal defense lawyers, our job description is limited to the service of another. We are protecting the rights of others, we are helping others make important decisions about their lives and we are, ultimately, representatives of other people.

That this is easy to forget should come as no surprise. Lawyers have famously large egos. But there is a danger in letting the sense of self overwhelm the duty and responsibility that we have.

It is that duty to the client that compels us to treat each case with the attention that we would give to it were we the defendant. There is no greater sin that can be committed by the defense lawyer than misadvising the client.

Clients rely on us to show them the way, to spell out the alternatives and to recommend one over the other, based on our knowledge, skill and experience, keeping their best interests in mind.

It is imperative that we fully inform ourselves of the facts and circumstances of the client’s case and then, and only then, recommend a final course of action.

I am not suggesting that we must force a client to take our advice; the client remains free to make stupid decisions. But the advice that we give clients must be sound. There are some that take the view that our job is to present the alternatives to the client and then accept whatever decision the client makes. I am not of that view. I believe – and certainly I may take some flak for this – that it is our responsibility to do our best to convince the client to choose the course of action that is in his/her best interests, despite the client’s seeming disapproval of that path.

This, however, can only be done if the advice we give is informed. We can only stand behind the advice we give if we are convinced that it is the best alternative and that decision can only be made with a full understanding of all the circumstances and an awareness of the pitfalls of that and every other course of action. If someone else, years down the road, decides that the advice was unreasonable, so be it. No one gets hurt by that and it only helps the client.

Ebron’s lawyer didn’t do that (and to his credit, took responsibility for it). The standard for effective assistance of counsel is woefully low. To scrape by and meet Constitutional scrutiny, a lawyer needn’t do much. But if you’re aiming for the standard, then you’re not really fulfilling your duty. If you truly believe it is sufficient to perform at a minimum level, then there are other areas of law that might be better suited for you. Stop meddling with the liberties and freedoms of fellow men and women.

…

Ineffective assistance of counsel is a sort of “dirty” phrase in the criminal defense world. It is viewed by many as a personal attack and is met with scorn, anger and derision directed toward those who practice in the post-conviction arena. That this view is prevalent among the bar is alarming. It belies a fundamental misunderstanding of the duties and responsibilities of the defense lawyer in the criminal justice system.

IAC claims are not a taint on your reputation nor is it an indictment of your abilities. It is a recognition of the simple fact that we are all working within a juggernaut of a system that from time to time overwhelms even the best of us.

At the end of the day, it is you and I who go home to our comfortable beds. You and I have the ability to walk outside in the free world and to buy what we choose and talk to whom we want, whenever we want. To place our petty egos and some twisted sense of self-worth before the complaints of the convicted client, who has nothing but a badly beaten and bruised writ to use to seek his release from the oppressive conditions of confinement in our penal institutions is pettiness of the ugliest kind.

The local listserve erupted with comments after the release of the Ebron decision: there were voices from both sides – those that praised the decision and those that lamented the additional burdens it seemingly placed on the defense lawyer (based, it seems to me, on a misreading of the case and the responsibilities it underlines).

Why does IAC evoke such polarized reactions among us? Are we that sensitive? Or is it because we view ourselves as separate and distinct from our clients? Do we believe that the players in the criminal justice system are the State, the judge, the defendant and the defense lawyer? If so, that is a terribly misbegotten view.

This may be getting repetitive, but it cannot be said enough that in order to truly serve our clients we must view ourselves as nothing but an extension of the individual client. We must be the client, at every moment that we represent them. We – criminal defense lawyers – are not parties to a criminal case. The client is. We are his representative. We must, at all times, remember that and act like it.

I will not lie to help a client, but I will not add my name to the list of those that violate his Constitutional rights.

Skakel loses the battle, but the war looms?

Leave a reply

In a mind bogglingly long opinion released earlier this week, CT’s Supreme Court upheld the denial of Kennedy cousin Michael Skakel‘s motion for new trial. There is a concurrence and a dissent as well.

The decision is long and I don’t care enough to dissect it. Except to state that despite the court shooting down all his claims, there is still hope for Skakel. And that rests entirely on the claim that Mickey Sherman, celebrity lawyer extraordinaire, rendered ineffective assistance of counsel.

Normally, our appellate courts are quick to shoot down future hypothetical claims of ineffective assistance. Not so in this case:

The trial court concluded that efforts to locate the three witnesses prior to and during trial did not satisfy due diligence. The court further  concluded that these witnesses could have been located using the same methods that ultimately were used after trial to locate them. Therefore, the  court concluded that the evidence was not newly discovered within the meaning of § 52-270. We agree.

It is highly significant that this evidence is  not newly discovered in the sense that the petitioner did not know of the existence of these witnesses prior to trial. Coleman had identified these  witnesses years before trial. Moreover, the petitioner should have known that Coleman’s testimony, if credited, could be a key piece of evidence in  the state’s case.

Sherman apparently concluded, however, that cross-examination of Coleman at trial would be sufficient to discredit him, as he  justified his lack of direction to Colucci about locating these witnesses by the fact that he ‘‘didn’t anticipate that . . . Coleman would be dead at the  [time of] trial . . . [and] believed that the jury would see [him].’’ Sherman had James’ contact information in the spring of 2002, but could not  ‘‘connect’’ with him. No effort was made to locate Simpson or Grubin prior to or during the trial. Therefore, we fully agree with the trial court’s  conclusion that Sherman had failed to exercise due diligence to locate the three witnesses.

and: Continue reading →

Padilla: It’s not that complicated, really

6 Replies

[Yes, another Padilla v. Kentucky post. Sorry, suck it up.]

Padilla is what some might call a “landmark” case; altering the landscape at least for the defense practitioner. So, with reason, it has generated much discussion among those of us who’ve chosen to make our views and opinions public. And with any such new “landmark” decision, there’s a difference of opinion as to the impact and specifically in this case, the impact on the duties and responsibilities of the defense lawyer.

Scott has written several posts bemoaning the lack of clarity in immigration law and warning us all that we now have this awesome burden that really isn’t one we can bear. In his latest missive, he enlists the help of Darth Vader Justin Bieber Ken “I used to be a defense lawyer” Lammers at KrimLaw.

There’s nothing better than the simple life, where a handy “cheat sheet” gives a laundry list of everything you need to know.  Print it out. Carry it to court. Be brilliant.  Except…that’s not really the problem.  The problem is that the Padilla duty is largely a no brainer at the extremes, where the immigrant defendant pleads to possession of 457 kilos of cocaine with intent to sell (it’s a little large for personal use anyway), or doing 37 in a 35 mile per hour zone, with or without your windows excessively tinted.  The problem is toward the middle of the spectrum, where all this mushy information does little to inform.

[That link is inserted by me.] If I understand Scott’s point correctly, he’s saying that the decision places an unfair burden on us to investigate, learn and give advice about a really complicated area of law, in the mushy in-the-middle circumstances of immigration consequences.

I’m not sure that’s what Padilla requires. Let’s go back to the decision and see what Justice Stevens said:

Immigration law can be complex, and it is a legal specialty of its own. Some members of the bar who represent clients facing criminal charges, in either state or federal court or both, may not be well versed in it. There will, therefore, undoubtedly be numerous situations in which the deportation consequences of a particular plea are unclear or uncertain.

This is exactly the scenario that Scott writes about. So what does the Court have to say about it?:

The duty of the private practitioner in such cases is more limited. When the law is not succinct and straightforward (as it is in many of the scenarios posited by JUSTICE ALITO), a criminal defense attorney need do no more than advise a non-citizen client that pending criminal charges may carry a risk of adverse immigration consequences. But when the deportation consequence is truly clear, as it was in this case, the duty to give correct advice is equally clear.

I’m not sure there’s anything complicated about that. Now, one might turn around and argue that it’s difficult to know in which situations the consequences are “truly clear”. Perhaps. But those situations aren’t tough to figure out. Unless you’re saying “hey, I don’t really want to figure out in what circumstances my client will be deported”.

Ken writes:

I can remember talking to State officials and defense attorneys who specialized in Spanish language defendants and hearing the same thing more than once, “Yes, the feds can deport, but they don’t want to be bothered unless there is a violent felony.” Of course, it wasn’t always phrased quite so blandly. So, the attorney in Padilla’s case may have been giving what was basically reality based advice based upon experience. I haven’t seen the feds swoop in and deport people therefore, they shan’t do it to you. Of course, the problem with this is that the feds can alter their behavior randomly and unilaterally. And, in Padilla’s case someone in the federal government thought that transporting a tractor-trailer full of marijuana might just be a reason to deport someone.

There’s quite the difference between “this is a deportable crime” and “yeah, sure you can be deported, but you won’t be, really”. The former is Constitutionally sound advice; the latter is not. Just because the Feds may or may not deport your client doesn’t absolve you of the duty to inform your client that he is subject to deportation.

And that’s all Padilla requires you to do (which makes it seem more and more like an empty decision, the more I think about it): tell the client there’s a chance he will be deported. It does not impose a duty on you to try and figure out how to prevent him from being deported, but certainly no one will complain if you do.

In the comments to Scott’s post, another blogger writes:

The real problem is that none of the cheat sheets are state specific – criminal law is state specific – immigration law is not – and it is here where these two intersect. You’ve got to know the specifics of the state law and most immigration practicioners do not. And the answer is always, it depends.

Personal experience with immigration lawyers varies and the range of skill within the immigration law bar varies just as much as it does in the criminal law field. But any immigration lawyer worth his degree and reputation will absolutely know the intricacies of the law of the state in which he practices. He has to. After all, most people are deported based on state convictions. So find a good one, talk to him or her. Every reputable immigration lawyer I’ve called has been more than happy to not only give me an educated guess on whether the client is deportable but also on how to avoid that deportation and what the client should plead to.

The bottom line, as far as I can see, is this: If the consequences are clear (and they usually are, save for the myriad drug offenses), then tell your client that he will be subject to deportation. If the consequences aren’t clear, then tell your client that he may be subject to deportation. If he wants to know more, find out. Call an immigration lawyer, go to a CLE. Unless you’ve been catering solely to clients who are citizens, this is going to come up again and again. Spending a day or so learning about the immigration consequences or picking up a phone and talking to someone knows will only make you a better lawyer. Maybe some of you can leverage that into a niche practice.

But remember that the obligation is to the client and the client only. The more you know, the better you serve the client.

[What I think will really end up happening here is that courts will start including an "immigration consequences" portion to their plea canvasses, much like that which is required here in CT by statute: "do you understand that this plea may result in deportation or removal?". Which would - and does - satisfy Padilla and everyone's obligation.]