Category Archives: innocence

Tonya Craft teaches us all

Tonya Craft, a former kindergarten teacher, charged with 22 counts of various sexual offenses involving 3 minor girls, was acquitted today. You may or may not have heard of her. I wrote a post recently about the trial and some of the outrageous antics engaged in by the prosecutors.

She was represented by Demosthenes Lorandos, who apparently has made a habit of successfully defending child sex cases across the country, and who hilariously said at the post-verdict press conference: “I do not lose”.

The media has been all over this trial, bringing it much needed attention. At first, the attention focused on the misbehavior of the prosecutors [see this for some very questionable comments during closing] and later the complete lack of qualification and training of the so-called “child sex experts”.

Twitter was set ablaze today as the jury was deliberating and the tweets of joy were abundant when the verdict was announced. Parties have been planned, interviews being given on the news and Ms. Craft will now fight to regain custody of her children.

All’s well that ends well. But this is not a happy post, nor is it a merely celebratory one. While Ms. Craft has the opportunity to return to her life, there are lessons for all of us. A fellow defense lawyer asked on Twitter: “Who is #tonyacraft and why [is she] any different from all of our other human tragedies?”

She is not. There are hundreds of Tonya Crafts out there in the criminal justice system, every single day, pleading to charges to avoid lengthy sentences or attempting to fight the false allegations and losing.

Any criminal defense lawyer (like yours truly) saw a stream of familiarity in the continuing coverage by news reporters of the direct and cross-examinations of the witnesses. The dissection of the forensic interviews by the defense experts was a veritable checklist of the problems associated with such after-the-fact divining: repeated questions, leading questions, suggestive questions. Pressuring children to answer a certain way; the worst form of confirmation bias. The prosecutors attempting to cast the defendant in general terms as a bad person, a person of loose moral character, thus equating foibles in their character with child molestation.

This. Happens. Every. Day. Continue reading

Frankly arresting

[W]hen the Fourth Amendment demands a factual showing sufficient to comprise `probable cause,’ the obvious assumption is that there will be a truthful showing” (emphasis in original). This does not mean “truthful” in the sense that every fact recited in the warrant affidavit is necessarily correct, for probable cause may be founded upon hearsay and upon information received from informants, as well as upon information within the affiant’s own knowledge that sometimes must be garnered hastily. But surely it is to be “truthful” in the sense that the information put forth is believed or appropriately accepted by the affiant as true.

Justice Blackmun, in Franks v. Delaware, quoting Judge Frankel in US v. Halsey. Franks, of course, permits a defendant to challenge the veracity of the statements in a search warrant. If he makes a substantial showing that the affidavit contains intentional falsehoods or material omissions, then he gets an evidentiary hearing to prove..umm..that there are falsehood or misrepresentations or omissions in the affidavit.

But Franks applies only to search warrants. What of the scenario where the officer intentionally lies to get a judge to sign a warrant for an arrest? There has to be judicial review of an arrest warrant and a finding of probable cause. But since we know officers lie, what if an officer lied to get a person arrested? Is there any remedy for that? I’ve been asked this question more than a few times over the last month and was a topic of discussion on the local listserve today, so I figure it’s about time I write a post on it.

There is a remedy, sort of. It’s more of a hollow remedy. In State v. Dolphin, the Connecticut supreme court, without explicitly stating so, applied the Franks analysis to an arrest warrant. As with the search warrant, a defendant attacking the validity of an arrest warrant must prove by a preponderance of the evidence that the falsehoods contained in the warrant, or the material omissions would defeat probable cause: Continue reading

Guilty of being poor

There is a myth that persists among criminal defendants that is well known to all of us: if you are poor, there’s a greater likelihood you’ll be found guilty of something. This myth – and a myth it is, because the rate of conviction is so damn high that you can’t honestly carve out any special class among the universe of defendants – is a steady source of amusement for the public servant.

“Man, if I had a real lawyer, I’d have gotten a dismissal already.”

Yeah, sure.

“I know how this works. If I had a private lawyer, he could fight for me more, but I can’t afford one so I’m stuck with you and this crappy deal.”

Whatever you say.

The irony is that the myth “you’re guilty if you’re poor” is just a few minor edits away from being close to the truth. The reality is that in the volume-high, fund-low world of indigent defense, most people are certainly guilty of one thing: being poor.

I’m not referring to the link between poverty and crime, for which there is much to be said – despite the tortured claim put forth last year that the declining economy coincided with a declining prison population and hence there was no link, an argument that any statistician worth the paper his degree was printed on would snarkily dismiss out of hand with the acronym SSS* – and indeed much has been said, but rather to the reality that unfolds every single day in the busiest courthouses across the country.

In response to my post yesterday on the “difficulty facing public defenders” [and if you want to read a more thoughtful post on the subject, check out Gamso's], a commenter points out that what I identified as a difficult wasn’t really exclusive to public defenders. The presumption of guilt applies to all defendants. But what is special to the indigent bar is that we often have to sit by and watch clients plead guilty, without having a clue whether they are actually guilty or not and without having the opportunity to determine that.

For almost every defendant except the guy doing life on the installment plan, the single biggest motivating factor is liberty. “When can I get out?” is the paramount question. Continue reading

The presumption of guilt

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. The presumption of innocence, a bedrock principle of criminal justice systems the world over for generations, is really not that ambiguous or in doubt. The presumption has been traced by some to Deuteronomy and there is evidence that it was embodied in the laws of Athens and Sparta. “Better than 10 guilty persons escape than that one innocent suffer“, says Blackstone [see here for a summary of the history of the presumption].

It’s a catchy phrase: “innocent until proven guilty”. It nicely ties in the other core principles: the burden of proof is on the State; the defendant has a Constitutional right not to testify; each and every element must be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. I’ve often employed Emperor Julian’s response, reproduced above, in answering the cocktail party question.

It’s all a lie. A big, bold-faced, wool over your eyes lie.

The presumption of innocence is dead, at least in practice. The real presumption, if you must, is that of guilt. Despite the Constitutional and historical directives to the contrary, the defendant “enjoys” a presumption of guilt from the moment of the institution of criminal proceedings.

From the absurdly low standard of probable cause needed to arrest a citizen, to the pitifully slanted pre-trial proceedings, to the trial itself, the presumption weighs heavily against all those who have been charged with a crime.

22tweets, a creation of Lance Godard, asked those who were featured in last week’s Blawg Review one question on twitter. Mine was: “What would you say is the most difficult aspect of being a public defender?”* Continue reading

A few stray thoughts

the metaphor, stupid

Monday was a marathon day at the state legislature, with several criminal justice bills being considered. Two of the most important, in my view, were the bills to eviscerate The Great Writ (see prior post here) and Connecticut’s first attempt at residency restrictions (see previous post here). For those who want to brave through the public hearing, the entire video is here and written testimony submitted can be read here.

[A warning: this post is long, repeats some arguments I've already made and is extremely rude and vitriolic. But if you don't read it, you support terrorists.]

The habeas corpus effective suspension and evisceration bill

Chief State’s Attorney Kevin Kane testified at length (almost an hour, I think) on the habeas corpus “reform” bill. There were many, many problems with his testimony, but a few things really stuck in my craw. The entire basis for the State’s “suggestions” in the habeas reform bill seemed to be premised on two things: 1) that there is a glut of “frivolous” petitions and courts are overburdened; and 2) by moving the restrictions on the filing of habeas corpus petitions to the “front end”, rather than during the process itself, there will be a lot of weeding out and the load will be lightened.

Both are unfounded. CSA Kane went on for the better part of an hour, trumpeting the vast number of “successive petitions”, before someone on the committee had the good sense to ask him for some numbers. Just what constitutes a successive petition and what does he consider frivolous? Certainly not all petitions that are denied are not frivolous and eventually he had to admit that. Later on, during the testimony of the Deputy Chief Public Defender, we heard that a meager 4 1/2 % of all petitions were “successive”, in that petitioners had filed a prior habeas corpus petition.

But the State’s argument was premised on this straw man (if not outright lie) that the courts were dealing with a deluge of repetitive, frivolous and time consuming merit-less habeas petitions where petitioners were on their 9th or 10th bite at the apple. From what I’ve been told, there is maybe one inmate who is on his 7th or 8th petition, but that’s about it.

The second premise of the state’s position is all the more confusing and confounding. Continue reading

The Limp Writ

Since the time of the Magna Carta, prisoners have been able to challenge the legality of their incarceration by petitioning for a writ of habeas corpus, long known as the Great Writ. We inherited “this powerful tool for . . . protect[ing] . . . individuals’ constitutional and statutory rights . . . from Great Britain,” which formalized it in the Habeas Corpus Act of 1679. In The Federalist, Alexander Hamilton argued that the Constitution should provide for the writ “in the most ample manner” because it served as a bulwark against “arbitrary methods of prosecuting pretended offenses [and] arbitrary punishments upon arbitrary convictions.”

The drafters of the Constitution imbedded it in Article I before adopting the Bill of Rights. The Supreme Court has attested to the writ’s significance on many occasions. At different times, the Court has declared that habeas corpus is intended “to liberate an individual from unlawful imprisonment,” a procedure for “securing to the petitioners their constitutional rights,” and “the best and only sufficient defense of personal freedom,” which if withdrawn, “risk[s] injury to an important interest in human liberty.” Most recently, the Court described the writ of habeas corpus as a “vital instrument” to securing “freedom from unlawful restraint,” such freedom being “a fundamental precept of liberty”.

And all of that would mean absolutely nothing if a bill currently in the state legislature were to pass. A bill, that in my view, comes dangerously close to an actual suspension of the writ in certain circumstances.

That such a bill is being considered by lawmakers is a monumental slap in the face to the very principles upon which the justice system in this country was built. The bill is born of a misbegotten belief that the courts in Connecticut are “overwhelmed” with “needless” and “repetitive” habeas petitions, whereby inmates [read: criminals/scum of the earth/them, not us] “abuse” the system. Putting aside the fact that the current pending habeas petitions represent a mere 10% or so of the incarcerated population [and an even smaller percentage of total convictions in the state], the idea that a State would be willing to eviscerate so fundamental a protection without the slightest trepidation is repugnant.

Making this proposal even more jarring is the granting of The Great Writ yesterday in a case where the two petitioners were found by the court to be actually innocent after 16 years in jail [make sure you read the decision by Judge Fuger]. If this bill were to pass, it would convert the sharp scythe that the Great Writ is meant to be into a limp sword of cardboard used in middle school productions.

Let us count the ways in which this bill sticks a big middle finger right through The Great Writ and the ways in which this will only generate more litigation and require more expenditure: Continue reading

The fruit of the poisonous confession

fruit of the poisono---oh nevermind

We at this blog, and as a consequence you as an observant reader, have known for quite some time now that false confessions are an underrated scourge in the world of wrongful convictions. Some 15-20% of all exonerations have seen the original convictions brought about by these false confessions. The causes of false confessions have been explored before: mental acuity, extremely long interrogations, psychological manipulation and outright lies.

A new paper soon to be published by Saul Kassin – one of the leading experts on false confessions – and others does a tremendous job of highlighting the history of the law on confessions, their admissibility and challenges to these confessions in US and UK courts. The paper is notable for three reasons: 1) It lays out this legal history, the current state of the research and the history of the development of this research in detail, 2) It offers some reform proposals and most interestingly 3) it posits that a false confession can have an adverse effect on how the jury perceives the remaining evidence in a case. For all of these reasons, it is an absolute must read for all criminal defense lawyers and even those prosecutors who are driven by the interests of justice.

What I want to do in this (extremely lengthy) post is to highlight some of the important and relevant points of the paper, but let me assure you: nothing I write here will be an adequate substitute for you actually reading the paper. It is that good and that important.

The problem with confessions using our current models starts at the beginning: with police interrogation. As opposed to the UK, which uses a “fact-finding” model of interviewing suspects, US police departments for the most part use the “confession” model. The goal of most interrogations in the US is to confirm the suspicion of the interrogator by obtaining a confession. These “trained” interviewers rely essentially on hunches, which are based on flawed beliefs of body language:

Often, however, it is based on a clinical hunch formed during a preinterrogation interview in which special ‘‘behavior-provoking’’ questions are asked (e.g., ‘‘What do you think should happen to the person who committed this crime?’’) and changes are observed in aspects of the suspect’s behavior that allegedly betray lying (e.g., gaze aversion, frozen posture, and fidgety movements). Yet in laboratories all over the world, research  has consistently shown that most commonsense behavioral cues are not diagnostic of truth and deception (DePaulo et al., 2003). Hence, it is not surprising as an empirical matter that laypeople on average are only 54% accurate at distinguishing truth and deception; that training does not  produce reliable improvement; and that police investigators, judges, customs inspectors, and other professionals perform only slightly better, if at all—albeit with high levels of confidence (for reviews, see Bond & DePaulo, 2006; Meissner & Kassin, 2002; Vrij, 2008).

The most famous of police interrogation techniques is the Reid Nine-step:

A nine-step process then ensues in which an interrogator employs both negative and positive incentives. On one hand, the interrogator confronts  the suspect with accusations of guilt, assertions that may be bolstered by evidence, real or manufactured, and refuses to accept alibis and denials.  On the other hand, the interrogator offers sympathy and moral justification, introducing ‘‘themes’’ that minimize the crime and lead suspects to see confession as an expedient means of escape.

Compounding the problem of these questionable police interrogation techniques is the apparent contradiction in US courts’ treatment of confessions in the criminal justice system: on one hand, courts recognize the awesome power of a confession and yet on the other seem indifferent to the voluminous research that tends to show that most techniques are coercive and unreliable. Originally governed by the corpus delicti rule, confessions are now viewed through the lens of the “trustworthiness” rule, after Opper v. United States (for a CT discussion see State v. Hafford). This rule is intended to permit the admission of only those confessions that can be independently corroborated. However, in practice, the rule doesn’t provide the benefits it seeks to: Continue reading