The only incentive – financial loss – was vilely struck down by SCOTUS in a decision (Harry “I’m the singer’s father” Connick v. Thompson) authored by Justice Thomas (who, in the words of one commentator, just doesn’t give a fuck). And Thomas seems to have a 20 year love affair with the crooner’s father, as evidenced by his joining the dissent in Kyles v. Whitley, another case highlighting the failure of Connick’s office to turn over exculpatory material, the aforementioned Connick v. Thompson, and his lone dissent in yesterday’s Smith v. Cain [PDF] – another Connick special.

Smith was about the prosecutor’s failure to turn over police notes that significantly undermined the testimony of the only witness against Smith. From this Slate article:

notes from the detective stating that the eyewitness said on the night of the murder that he “could not … supply a description of the perpetrators other then [sic] they were black males.” Again, five days after the crime, the ostensible eyewitness said he “could not ID anyone because [he] couldn’t see faces” and “would not know them if [he] saw them.” The detective wrote these statements down—and then wrote down “Could not ID.” It’s understandable that the eyewitness was, as he later said, “too scared to look at anybody” under the circumstances. But usually police know that a person who didn’t see a face is not an eyewitness at all.

And this was a “witness” who went on to testify with absolute conviction that Smith was, indeed, the perpetrator and he’d seen him face to face. Perhaps recognizing, albeit not acknowledging, that there may be such a thing as a Connick special, SCOTUS took cert. soon after Thompson and in brief, terse and matter-of-fact 4 page 8-1 opinion summarily reversed Smith’s conviction.

8-1. A lone dissent. Thomas authored a 17 page dissent extolling the virtues of eyewitness testimony and the jury’s function of determining the reliability of that testimony. Garbage. He knows it, I know it, his four conservative colleagues on the bench know it and don’t you fall for it. A jury can, I suppose, effectively evaluate the reliability and believability of a witness’ testimony, but only if that jury has all the relevant information before it from which to reach that conclusion. Hiding the fact that the only witness had several times claimed that he could not ID anyone hardly seems non-material.

That Thomas continues to ply this nonsense is not a testament – nor should it be – to the decline of the value of The Court, but rather a telling indictment of his abandonment of any modicum of intellectual honesty. In other words, he just doesn’t give a fuck anymore. Unfortunately, in doing so, he is fast making his presence on the Court a joke and, in the process, devaluing the institution.

————-

A day after the Court issued Smith, it issued Perry v. New Hampshire [PDF], a case that had incorrectly been called the next step in the development of eyewitness identification jurisprudence. The issue in Perry was far more limited and not a review of lineup procedures in of themselves. Here‘s a nice article by the same fellow who wrote the Slate piece above on the juxtaposition of the two cases.

The study is remarkable in its breadth and scope; it analyzed 4686 murder cases spanning 34 years to see whether the application of the death penalty was arbitrary in any fashion. The results are telling and a sizeable slap across the face of The Constitution State. The NYT sums up the numbers nicely:

Of those [4686 murders], 205 were death-eligible cases that resulted in some kind of conviction, either through a plea bargain or conviction at trial. The arbitrariness started at the charging level: nearly a third of these death-eligible cases were not charged as capital offenses as they could have been, but as lesser crimes. Sixty-six defendants were convicted of capital murder, 29 went to a hearing for a death sentence, nine death sentences were sustained and one person was executed.

In order to evaluate the arbitrariness of the imposition of the death penalty, Prof. Donohue devised an egregiousness scale and applied it to each case:

It considered four factors: victim suffering (like duration of pain); victim characteristics (like age, vulnerability); defendant’s culpability (motive, intoxication or premeditation); and the number of victims. He enlisted students from two law schools to rate each case (based on fact summaries without revealing the case’s outcome or the race of the defendant or victim) on a scale from 1 to 3 (most egregious) for each of the four factors. The raters also gave each case an overall subjective assessment of egregiousness, from 1 (low) to 5 (high), to ensure that more general reactions could be captured.

The results are either stunning or completely unsurprising, depending on your point of view or naivete. For example, the study completely undermines the most often repeated defense of the death penalty in CT and elsewhere: that it’s reserved for only the “worst of the worst”. As this NYT graphic demonstrates, the study found that only one of the 32 “most egregious” crimes in CT resulted in the imposition of the death penalty. Further, the study found no real disparity in the “egregiousness” of the crimes that resulted in a sentence of LWPOR and the death sentence, thus further underscoring the idea that the death penalty was nothing but arbitrary.

It even supported the vast geographic disparity in Connecticut: a murder in the death penalty capital of CT – Waterbury – was seven times more likely to result in a death sentence than in any other jurisdiction in the State. If the chances of an individual getting a death sentence increase by 700% merely because of the physical location of that crime, then that is the very definition of arbitrary.

The study’s findings also supported those of other nationwide studies that the race of the defendant and the victim play a major role in determining whether the death penalty is imposed:

not only are minority on white murders getting harsher treatment controlling for all of the factors specified above, but this harsher treatment is substantial.  Minority on white murders are charged as capital felonies at a roughly 21 or 22 percentage point higher rate (see columns 2, 3, 5, and 6 in row 2 of Table 22) and receive death sentences at a roughly 4 to 8 percentage point higher rate (see columns 2, 3, 5, and 6 in row 2 of Table 23).  A sense of the importance of these estimated effects can be gained by comparing these effects against the overall charging and sentencing rates.

For instance, the overall rate of capital charging from the data set of 205 death-eligible cases is roughly 67 percent (as indicated in Table 21). Clearly, a 21 or 22 percentage point increase in charging for a racially defined class of crimes is a notably large number.  Similarly, when the overall death sentencing rate in the sample is only 4.4 percent (see Table 21), an elevated death sentencing rate for minority on white crimes on the order of magnitude of 4 to 8 percent is obviously sizeable.

Indeed, the harsher sentencing of minority defendants who kill whites is even greater (proportionally) than the increase in the capital charging rates experienced by this same group.  The proportionally greater death sentencing rate suggests that minority on white murders receive harsher treatment not only by virtue of initial prosecutorial decisions to charge death-eligible cases as capital felonies, although this is clearly one component, but also because of subsequent racially biased decisions of prosecutors and/or judges and juries subsequent to the initial charging decision.

The study is also a delightful read because it takes the counter-study of the State’s expert and rips it to shreds. It cuts through the “rhetoric and unfounded speculations” made by the State’s expert and presents the findings of that study as following:

1.  There are enormous and unexplained geographic disparities.
2.  Death sentences are not confined to the worst murders.
3.  There is gender bias in death sentencing.
4.  There is racial bias in capital outcomes.
5.  There is arbitrariness in the key charging and sentencing decisions of the Connecticut
death penalty system.

That sounds awfully like the State’s expert agrees with the defense expert.

The report concludes as one would expect: with a plea to the court and the legislature to take into account the findings of the study and to do something to fix the problem (or, in my opinion, do away with it entirely). If you read the entire report, it will leave you with no doubt that the death penalty as it stands is unworkable and geographically and racially disparate and that its application is nothing but arbitrary, a clear violation of Furman and the Eight Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. As the legislature heads into its short session in February, it would be wise to look at this report and address the concerns raised by it. Now that that trial is over, perhaps we will talk honestly about the problems created by the death penalty in Connecticut and look seriously to abolition.

making impropriety cool since 1974

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 defendant next contends that the prosecutor violated State v. Singh, supra, 259 Conn. 693, when he argued that in order to acquit the defendant, the jury would have to find that every other witness ‘‘was wrong.’’ He argues that there is ‘‘no distinction between a prosecutor using the word ‘wrong’ or ‘mistaken’ instead of ‘lying’—all are equally improper.’’ The state argues that there is a distinction when such words are used during closing argument. We agree with the defendant.

To improper attempts to bolster the credibility of witnesses:

First, the defendant claims that the prosecutor improperly asked several of the state’s witnesses on direct examination and on redirect examination if they were telling the truth or if they were prepared to tell the truth. This, he argues, was an attempt by the prose-cutor to bolster or rehabilitate the credibility of these witnesses before the witnesses were impeached. The state argues that each of the witnesses had testified that they had pending criminal cases and that they did not want to testify in the present case. The questions posed relating to their truthfulness, it argues, merely were attempts to confirm that despite their reluctance to testify, they still were prepared to tell the truth. We conclude that the questions posed on direct examination were improper attempts at bolstering the witnesses.

and finally to finding that these instances were “central to the critical issues of the case”:

We next consider the fourth Williams factor, the centrality of the improprieties to the critical issues in the case. See id. The defendant argues that ‘‘the prosecutor attempted to obtain a conviction by having the jury consider not the evidence and the charge, but instead, by persistently characterizing [the] defendant’s actions as murder and Rivera as a victim, by bringing in sympathy for Rivera and [by] inflaming the jurors’ passions, by repeatedly emphasizing that his witnesses were credible, by denigrating defense counsel and by arguing that every single witness was lying if [the] defendant was innocent.’’ The state concedes that ‘‘the alleged improprieties affected the central issue in this case, which was whether the defendant murdered the victim or acted in self-defense, but not significantly so.’’ We conclude that the improprieties were central to the critical issues of the case.

And yet, these improprieties didn’t deprive the defendant of his right to a fair trial bec-ayyy! Of course, the Court doesn’t bother to name the offending prosecutor, nor does the Court either impose sanctions or refer the matter to the Grievance Committee for sanctions for this conduct it finds to be improper. The lesson here? Go ahead and do all this stuff we said was improper, because in the end, criminals are criminals and we aren’t going to do anything other than mildly chastise you in a way that will preclude anyone from ever connecting you to this behavior and really, you put a really bad guy away, so we should be giving you a damn award.

Ayyy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q_Y0gT-ab90

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.

As if this coddling and protection of prosecutors wasn’t infuriating enough, the laissez faire attitude toward such impropriety gets even worse with the complete failure of any entity to impose sanctions on that prosecutor. It is a common refrain heard around the criminal justice system that prosecutors are rarely – if ever – held accountable for their “extremely troubling” acts of misconduct. I mean, c’mon, if a court isn’t even going to name them, then do you think there’s ever be any sanctions imposed?

That’s the subject of a powerful article in the CT Law Tribune by former Chief Disciplinary Counsel Mark Dubois, who comments on Lenarz and the failure of courts to correct this misbehavior:

One part of the decision troubled me though. In Lenarz, the majority noted that it was “extremely troubled” by the conduct of the state’s attorney because the communications were clearly of an attorney/client nature, even being noted that at the top of some of the pages. Yet despite being troubled, the court imposed no discipline on the prosecutor.

Professor (I took one of his classes once, so he’ll always be “Professor” to me) Dubois then points out something that I was unaware of, that’s rather surprising:

Practice Book 2-32(a)(2)(F) allows the Grievance Committee to screen out and dismiss any case where the alleged conduct occurred in a court, “and the court has been made aware of the allegations of misconduct and has rendered a decision finding misconduct” or has either determined that no misconduct has occurred or has declined to refer the matter to the Grievance Committee. Yes, “or” can be used conjunctively—“would you like cream or sugar in your coffee?” — but the common use of the word is as a disjunctive. The use of “or” instead of “and” in the rule seems to suggest a presumption that if a court finds misconduct, it will impose discipline. The Grievance Committee, being only an “arm of the court,” cannot act where a court has already taken jurisdiction and found misconduct, even if no discipline is imposed.

Here’s the relevant Practice Book section:

(a) Any person, including disciplinary counsel, or a grievance panel on its own motion, may file a written complaint, executed under penalties of false statement, alleging attorney misconduct whether or not such alleged misconduct occurred in the actual presence of the court. Complaints against attorneys shall be filed with the statewide bar counsel. Within seven days of the receipt of a complaint the statewide bar counsel shall review the complaint and process it in accordance with subdivisions (1), (2) or (3) of this subsection as follows:

(2) refer the complaint to the chair of the statewide grievance committee or an attorney designee of the chair and to a nonattorney member of the committee, and the statewide bar counsel in conjunction with the chair or attorney designee and the nonattorney member, shall if deemed appropriate, dismiss the complaint on one or more of the following grounds:

(F) the complaint alleges misconduct occurring in a superior court, appellate court or supreme court action and the court has been made aware of the allegations of misconduct and has rendered a decision finding misconduct or finding that either no misconduct has occurred or that the allegations should not be referred to the statewide grievance committee;

Prof. Dubois interprets that to mean that once a court has found misconduct and imposed no sanction, the Grievance Committee must not take further action against the prosecutor. But I don’t see where in the rule it says that the Committee cannot proceed with disciplinary proceedings against the prosecutor based on the record created by the appellate decision. I’m assuming the professor knows more than I do in this area, so I invite him to correct my mistake.

Even if that is the case, it certainly does not divest the court of its authority to refer the matter to the Grievance Committee for disciplinary proceedings. And we all know that never happens:

A quick Westlaw search reveals many cases where courts have found misconduct by prosecutors, ranging from Brady violations to evidence destruction to calling defendants “fiends” and “rats.” While some of the misconduct has been sufficient to warrant new trials or dismissals, none if it that I can think of has resulted in discipline of the lawyers involved. Perhaps the appellate courts think that the Grievance Committee will clean up that loose end. But it never happens. And as prosecutors are immunized from civil liability, the conduct goes unpunished.

This indifference approach to ethical violations in the most grievous of settings is another symptom of a system that places finality above all else, that condones the erosion of individual rights and liberties in favor of a more authoritarian society. With the legislature unable to act, it will be up to the Courts – well populated with former prosecutors – to bring accountability in an impartial way. If the Chief Justice is indeed serious about restoring faith and integrity in our justice system, she might want to go further than characterizing the conduct as “extremely troubl[ing]” and actually hold those people who undermine that same integrity responsible.

Don’t hold your breath.

It turns out that this is now a growing trend of sorts and is about to receive its first serious legal challenge in the Empire State:

Rosie, the first judicially approved courtroom dog in New York, was in the witness box here nuzzling a 15-year-old girl who was testifying that her father had raped and impregnated her. Rosie sat by the teenager’s feet. At particularly bad moments, she leaned in.

…

The new role for dogs as testimony enablers can, however, raise thorny legal questions. Defense lawyers argue that the dogs may unfairly sway jurors with their cuteness and the natural empathy they attract, whether a witness is telling the truth or not, and some prosecutors insist that the courtroom dogs can be a crucial comfort to those enduring the ordeal of testifying, especially children.

The new witness-stand role for dogs in several states began in 2003, when the prosecution won permission for a dog named Jeeter with a beige button nose to help in a sexual assault case in Seattle. “Sometimes the dog means the difference between a conviction and an acquittal,” said Ellen O’Neill-Stephens, a prosecutor there who has become a campaigner for the dog-in-court cause.

There are Confrontation Clause implications, to be sure: the dog’s “nudging” the reluctant witness at key moments seems to give the witnesses testimony an added air of credibility and evoke lord knows how much sympathy in the jury for the complainant:

His lawyers, David S. Martin and Steven W. Levine of the public defender’s office, have raised a series of objections that they say seems likely to land the case in New York’s highest court. They argue that as a therapy dog, Rosie responds to people under stress by comforting them, whether the stress comes from confronting a guilty defendant or lying under oath.

But they say jurors are likely to conclude that the dog is helping victims expose the truth. “Every time she stroked the dog,” Mr. Martin said in an interview, “it sent an unconscious message to the jury that she was under stress because she was telling the truth.”

“There was no way for me to cross-examine the dog,” Mr. Martin added.

Ah, but if Mr. Martin had bothered to check the website for Courthouse Dogs, he’d have found this:

Avoid using the term “therapy dog” because the use of this term may create grounds for a mistrial or raise an issue on appeal. This term originated in the medical and psychiatric fields and connotes that the recipient of the dog’s attention is in need of physical or psychiatric therapy. A defense attorney could argue that the use of the term “therapy dog” by the judge or the prosecutor implies to the jury that the witness is in fact a victim in need of therapy and could be construed as a comment on the evidence. It is up to the jury to decide if the witness was victimized by the defendant. You don’t want to retry a case and put the witness/victim through this ordeal a second time.

Martin hits it right on the head, by the way. Anytime the proponent of a new technique strongly (the above paragraph is in bold on their website) advises you to avoid the use of a term so that it can be admitted in court, you can safely bet that the discouraged description fits precisely.

The trial judge, in permitting the use of this therapy dog, draws an analogy to the use of a doll by a child witness by testifying. The analogy rings hollow, to me. A doll is inanimate and moves only when the person holding the doll gives it energy to move. A dog, on the other hand, has its own motives and moves on its own, in all its doggy wisdom. How do we ask the dog why it chose that precise moment to nudge the witness or nuzzle up against it?

Scott, in his post on this, highlights the problems with dog-aided-testimony:

The point of confrontation is to confront, to make the witness uncomfortable, to challenge their finely-honed direct testimony so that the narrative can be tested and, if false or mistaken, shown to be wrong so that an innocent person isn’t convicted.  Of course we feel sorry for the putative victim, though whether the person on the stand is a victim is often at the heart of the question.

But we must feel similarly bad for the person convicted on erroneous testimony.  We should no more want a wrongful conviction than a traumatized child-witness, and when the comfort of a dog alleviates the normal stress of giving testimony, a significant part of the system is compromised.  Witnesses should feel stress. Witness words and demeanor under cross are critical to the determination of truthfulness and accuracy.

…

As  wonderful as it may be to have a dog like Rosie sit at the feet of a young lady who endured the rape and impregnation of a sick and disgusting father, the next child-witness may be accusing her parent of being a witch in Salem.  We cannot presume that the child isn’t wrong, or isn’t lying, and that the real victim in the courtroom isn’t the defendant.

Defendants, on the other hand, are only permitted completely shaved cats.

no self-respecting dog would nuzzle up to him

Discretion is such an ugly word. It sounds officious, vague and un-engaging. I prefer to call it choice. Because that’s what prosecutors have: the power to choose whether to prosecute someone or not. It is that power to choose that is a manifestation of the great power that prosecutors wield: the power to deprive someone of their life, their liberty, their reputation.

This inherent ability has been discussed elsewhere lately, in Scott’s post where he gives two examples of poor choices made by prosecutors and in this NPR interview with former state judiciary committee co-chair Mike Lawlor and today, in this piece in the NJ Star Ledger.

The Star-Ledger piece talks about prosecutorial discretion choice in the context of three recent high-profile criminal justice stories: Dominique Strauss-Kahn, Casey Anthony and The Rocket and how all these cases seem to indicate the quest for justice has buckled under the pressure of the 24-hour sensationalist news cycle and the pressure to convict – when that same news media all but assumes that with every accusation comes a conviction – has subverted the true function of the prosecutor. I’ve written plenty about the impact and responsibility of the media in sensationalizing the criminal justice system, so I won’t go there in this post. This post is, I think, about the role of the prosecutor and the power of choice that they possess.

In penning this lament in the Star-Ledger, John Farmer, dean of Rutgers Law School (and a former prosecutor) relies heavily on the words of former Attorney General (and later Supreme Court justice) Robert Jackson uttered at a meeting of prosecutors, some of which I reproduce here:

“The prosecutor,” he reminded them, “has more control over life, liberty and reputation than any other person in America. His discretion is tremendous. He can have citizens investigated and, if he is that kind of person, he can have this done to the tune of public statements and veiled or unveiled intimations.”

…

“With the law books filled with a great assortment of crimes,” the attorney general said, “a prosecutor stands a fair chance of finding at least a technical violation of some act on the part of almost anyone. … It is in this realm … that the greatest danger of abuse of prosecuting power lies. It is here that law enforcement becomes personal, and the real crime becomes that of being unpopular with the predominant or governing group … or being personally obnoxious to or in the way of the prosecutor himself.”

That second paragraph, uttered some 70 years ago, is so telling about some of the dangers of forgetting the ramifications and burdens of the power that is at their disposal.

It seems that over time, the definition of the prosecutorial function has narrowed: from a broader concept of a duty to ensure that justice is done, to ensuring that criminals are locked away. While the latter may be part of the prosecutorial function, it is not all of it. The prosecuting authority has a responsibility to every citizen of the state or country to maintain fair and proper administration of justice: and everyone includes the defendant accused of a crime.

All too often, it seems these days, prosecutors seem to fall in step with the Nancy Graces of the world: that it is enough to accuse someone of a crime for them to be actually guilty of it. (Obviously I am not alleging that all prosecutors are like this – there are, to be sure, some, if not a sizeable chunk, who do take their duties seriously – but we’d be lying to ourselves if we believed that there weren’t any who didn’t view their job as merely securing convictions.)

The NPR interview I linked to above is primarily about the effect that budget cuts will have on public defenders’ ability to fulfill their constitutional obligations, but in it, Lawlor makes an interesting observation that the cuts will also force prosecutors to re-evaluate their priorities and to exercise their discretion even more so than they have done in the past: what is worth prosecuting? who is worth sending to jail? With limited resources, there will have to be a re-focusing of energies on the more egregious offenses and offenders.

Why doesn’t this hold true always? Why must this become an issue only in times of constrained resources? Shouldn’t we be constantly monitoring our prosecutors to ensure that they aren’t pursuing disproportionate punishment? That they aren’t painting all defendants with the same brush? That they are willing and able to recognize the nuances of each individual and each case? Isn’t that the best way to ensure justice?

And this responsibility is even graver in this age, where news travels instantaneously and nothing is ever erased and that accusation is always searchable and articles on the internet are never updated to reflect the resolution of charges and where 17 year olds are labeled predators for life for having sex with their 15 year old girlfriends.

Are prosecutors just automatons, mindlessly pushing for conviction and incarceration for all those who are unfortunate enough – rightly or wrongly – to be ensnared in the insidious and incestuous machinery that the criminal justice system has become?

For this, I return to Jackson:

Above all, Jackson emphasized, the power prosecutors have over life, liberty and reputation requires that their actions be animated by “a spirit of fair play and decency.” The prosecutor’s oath, after all, is not to be zealous in seeking convictions, but to be fair in seeking justice: “Although the government technically loses its case,” Jackson reminded the U.S. attorneys, “it has won if justice has been done.”

…

“Your positions are of such independence and importance that while you are being diligent, strict and vigorous in law enforcement, you can also afford to be just. … Any prosecutor who risks his day-to-day professional name for fair dealing to build up statistics of success has a perverted sense of practical values, as well as defects of character.”

With great power comes great responsibility and the responsible thing to do is to choose wisely.

Image via.

I wonder about the prosecution, though. The prosecution that has the Constitutional obligation under Brady v. Maryland to disclose potentially exculpatory information, that – being lawyers – has the ethical obligation of candor to the tribunal and to immediately correct erroneous information presented to the court or the jury.

I haven’t paid much – if any – attention to the facts of the case. A girl went missing, the mom partied and didn’t report it, a body was found(?) but the cause of death couldn’t be pinpointed, Nancy Grace said she was guilty and Casey googled “chloroform” 84 times.

Wait, you mean she didn’t? Oh:

Assertions by the prosecution that Casey Anthony conducted extensive computer searches on the word “chloroform” were based on inaccurate data, a software designer who testified at the trial said Monday.

The designer [of the software that the police used to validate their conclusion], John Bradley, said Ms. Anthony had visited what the prosecution said was a crucial Web site only once, not 84 times, as prosecutors had asserted. He came to that conclusion after redesigning his software, and immediately alerted prosecutors and the police about the mistake, he said.

The finding of 84 visits was used repeatedly during the trial to suggest that Ms. Anthony had planned to murder her 2-year-old daughter, Caylee, who was found dead in 2008. Ms. Anthony, who could have faced the death penalty, was acquitted of the killing on July 5.

…

Mr. Bradley said he immediately alerted a prosecutor, Linda Drane Burdick, and Sgt. Kevin Stenger of the Sheriff’s Office in late June through e-mail and by telephone to tell them of his new findings. Mr. Bradley said he conducted a second analysis after discovering discrepancies that were never brought to his attention by prosecutors or the police.

And we all know that the prosecution and the police did nothing. The state’s already weak and nebulous case was actually weaker. And yet onward they pushed, to try and get the death penalty against a woman they “knew” in their hearts was guilty, just didn’t have that pesky “evidence” to back up. I can understand that if this information had come up pre-trial, the prosecution could’ve wiggled out of disclosing it by using the well-worn trope that in their opinion it wasn’t potentially exculpatory, but to let the court and jury continue under the false impression that evidence before it was accurate when it wasn’t is a serious violation of their ethical obligations. (See here for a prior post on the prosecutors’ obligations to pursue a prosecution they know they can’t prove).

Nothing will happen to the prosecutors, obviously, other than a few people shaking their heads and tut-tut-ing. It’s a good thing she was acquitted. Imagine if this came to light after a conviction?

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- :

We must state, however, that we are extremely troubled by the prosecutor’s conduct in this case. Although the privileged documents were not in the form of  letters or e-mails, it could not have been more obvious on the face of a number of the documents that they were intended to be communications to the defendant’s attorney. For example, one of the documents stated near the top of the first page that ‘‘[t]he following material is confidential and I would ask  that you review it. If this is a case you believe you would have success in defending, I would like to schedule [an] appointment to discuss it.’’ Another document was entitled ‘‘Strategy Issues’’ and stated in the first sentence: ‘‘I think that in the short term, especially for the court appearance on June 8, 2004, that our  objective should be threefold . . . .’’ The first two sentences of another document provided: ‘‘We were asked by our original attorney . . . to keep a log of any  events that we thought might pertain to this case. This document is the result . . . .’’

Oh. Well, I’m sure the prosecutor acted as he would have if he hadn’t read them and didn’t alter his strategy at trial as a resu-what’s that?

Indeed, the record strongly suggests that the prosecutor may have revealed the defendant’s trial strategy to witnesses and investigators. In addition,  consciously or unconsciously, the prosecutor’s knowledge of the defendant’s trial strategy may have affected his selection and examination of witnesses during trial, which is now a matter of public record. Again, the record strongly suggests that the prosecutor drew on his knowledge of the privileged communications  when examining the accusing witness in Docket No [XX] to anticipate and thereby neutralize what otherwise might have been a devastating  cross-examination of that witness.

The Court (at least 4 of the 6 members who sat on this panel) is rightly outraged at these actions by the prosecutor. So much so, that the Court creates a new rule: that there is a presumption of prejudice when inherently confidential materials are disclosed to the prosecutor, intentionally or otherwise, and that presumption is rebuttable only by clear and convincing evidence. The Court then places the burden squarely on the trial court to sua sponte conduct an investigation into this violation and fashion an appropriate remedy that would right the wrong.

The Court concludes:

This is a case in which the prosecutor clearly invaded privileged communications that contained a detailed, explicit road map of the defendant’s trial  strategy. Compounding the problem, the prosecutor not only failed to inform the defendant and the trial court of the invasion immediately, but also  continued to handle the case, to meet repeatedly with witnesses and investigators and ultimately to try the case to conclusion more than one year after the invasion  occurred. Under these circumstances, any remedy other than the dismissal of the criminal charge of which the defendant was convicted would constitute a  miscarriage of justice[.]

You can read the nearly-3-times-as-long dissenting opinion here, which basically argues that the majority is creating a new rule and that the violation wasn’t that bad because we really must assume that a prosecutor who receives these materials, reads them and then alters his trial strategy to counter the defendants did so unintentionally and in good faith and oh, I don’t know. I stopped reading after the 10th page or so.

I think it’s particularly telling that the majority opinion was written by the Chief Justice. CJ Rogers has been on a mission since being appointed chief: a mission to clean up the image of the judiciary and the legal profession. It’s abundantly clear that this isn’t an opinion about criminal law, albeit that is the mechanism for the ruling, but rather about the integrity of the profession, the fairness of the courts and the sanctity of our clearly defined roles and the rules that we must abide by.

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:

We’ve all been there: the trial has just concluded, you’ve delivered the closing argument that you spent many nights working on and frankly, you’re exhausted. The judge starts giving the long, boring instructions to the jury – you know what I mean – which they’ll rely on to analyze the evidence and apply it to the law of the land. You tune out, your eyes glaze over, you just want a damn drink.

And in the midst of your reverie, the judge instructs the jury that the defendant has the burden of proof beyond a reasonable doubt to prove his innocence. Since you were preoccupied with visions of a drunken sleep, you didn’t notice. The jury, obviously, convicts, since there was no defense case in chief. You are upset, the client is led away and you go home to curl up in the fetal position and bemoan juries predisposition to convict.

Then your client appeals and the sharp, astute, awake appellate attorney notices the erroneous instruction. Oh no! This was instructional error! The judge gave the jury incorrect instructions! But you didn’t object! And so the error wasn’t preserved! Are we doomed?

Recognizing the problems that would arise with turning a blind eye to this obvious mistake of Constitutional magnitude that impacted the right to due process and a fair trial, the appellate courts in Connecticut issued a decision back in 1989: State v. Golding. The Golding decision created a 4-pronged test to deal with scenarios like these:

1. The record is adequate to review the alleged claim of error;
2. The claim is of constitutional magnitude alleging the violation of a fundamental right;
3. The alleged constitutional violation clearly exists and clearly deprived the defendant of a fair trial; and
4. If subject to harmless error analysis, the state has failed to demonstrate harmlessness of the alleged constitutional violation beyond a reasonable doubt.

(note that Golding applied to all errors of constitutional magnitude, not just jury instructions). This test worked – albeit not perfectly – but it worked. Obvious errors that implicated constitutional rights received the appellate review they deserved. But the State, cloaked in its self-righteous veneer of finality over justice, was unhappy. It fought for years to reverse Golding, because dammit any trial is a fair trial. And if your lawyer is asleep at the wheel, or just plain misses something, you must pay for it.

Most defense lawyers weren’t that worried about the Court overturning Golding because, well, how could they? How could they justify punishing a defendant for an obvious Constitutional error? How could they justify depriving a defendant of his/her right to due process and a fair trial?

Blame the lawyer, that’s how. This year, in a trio of cases – State v. Kitchens, State v. Akande and State v. Mungroo – the Connecticut Supreme Court made jaws drop by holding that if a lawyer fails to object to the exact same language of a jury instruction that is later challenged on appeal, the defendant is deemed to have waived the right to appeal that error. Part of the reasoning is that it will be considered a tactic on the part of the lawyer to not object to that erroneous instruction. Like we’re all that smart.

Yes. So under my scenario above, the appellate lawyer cannot argue that the defendant’s right to a fair trial was violated, because the lawyer did not object to the incorrect reasonable doubt instruction. Think of it as that portion of a wedding vow where the officiant looks at the crowd and asks if anyone objects to the union and warns them to speak now or forever hold their peace.

Now, the example I gave is an extreme one – hopefully no matter how asleep you are, you would notice that the defendant doesn’t have to prove a damn thing. But what of other less noticeable errors? What of erroneous instructions that a particular lawyer just wasn’t aware of? But that’s apparently a tactical decision.

The burden this places on the defense lawyer is tremendous – and misplaced. The court has an independent obligation to ensure that the jury is instructed correctly. This removes that obligation on the trial court, which, after all, is in charge of courtroom procedure, evidence and instructions, and places it on the shoulders of the defense lawyer. And what if the lawyer is just plain wrong and incorrectly agrees to the erroneous instruction? How do you make a defendant pay for that lawyer’s mistake? And why must that defendant wait years and years for vindication that may never come? Why has the Supreme Court abrogated its basic function: to ensure that justice is delivered in Connecticut courtrooms and to preserve the Constitutional right to due process and fair trials? The Court seems more interested in arguing that defense lawyers will choose to knowingly ignore Constitutional errors so as to set up appellate claims – something that is highly unethical and detrimental to the client.

I refuse to cite from the majority opinion because it is just so vile. But, in the interest of making this post somewhat productive and instructive, I will cite only this one paragraph that provides some sort of guideline:

We conclude that, when the trial court provides counsel with a copy of the proposed jury instructions, allows a meaningful opportunity for their review, solicits comments from counsel regarding changes or modifications and counsel affirmatively accepts the instructions proposed or given, the defendant may be deemed to have knowledge of any potential flaws therein and to have waived implicitly the constitutional right to challenge the instructions on direct appeal.

As far as I can see, here’s what we need to do:

1. File a motion with the trial judge for a written copy of the proposed jury instructions prior to the start of jury selection. In fact, demand them. Cite Kitchens over and over again.
2. Make a record every time you ask the Court for the written instructions.
3. Ask for a continuance of at least 48 hours if you receive the instructions during the evidence portion of the trial. Realistically, you need that much time to absorb, understand and critique the instructions.
4. Make a record of what else you have to do in the midst of trial and why you need that time.
5. Demand the time. Make a record and use the words “I will not have had a meaningful opportunity to review the instructions if you do not grant this continuance, Your Honor”.
6. The court will not usually grant you this time; expect that.
7. Share the instructions with other lawyers. Ask them to read them and provide feedback.
8. Start keeping a repository of your own instructions.
9. Always submit your own proposed instructions in writing.
10. Always ask the Court to give your version of the instructions, no matter how closely they track the Court’s.
11. Always object to the Court’s instructions and suggest that the Court give yours instead.
12. Make sure you don’t have something stupid or wrong in your proposed instructions.
13. Make a record that you have not shared your proposed instructions with your client, that he is not trained in the law and he is relying on you to get it right.
14. State on the record that your client is not waiving any right to review of errors contained in the jury instructions.
15. State on the record that you have perused the Court’s proposed instructions to the best of your ability and that there are no errors that you are intentionally not bringing to the Court’s attention.
16. Pray that the Court gets it right.

The State and the courts of this State don’t seem to give a damn about its citizens Constitutional rights. Now, more than ever, we defense lawyers are the only ones that stand between the individual who has all the might of a government thrown against him and a summary, lawless judgment being pronounced. This is not the time to tuck our tails between our legs and scamper off. Fight. Stand up and assert our rights. Your rights. My rights. Because if we don’t, soon, there won’t be any left.

———-

And because every post of this length needs a video, here’s a song about rhymes (language decidedly adult):

• In what is reminiscent of the plot of an O’Henry short story or an article on snopes.com, a man robs a bank, asking for only $1, so he can be arrested and spend a few years in jail. His logic?

That’s right. James Verone says he has no medical insurance. He has a growth of some sort on his chest, two ruptured disks and a problem with his left foot. He is 59 years old and with no job and a depleted bank account. He thought jail was the best place he could go for medical care and a roof over his head. Verone is hoping for a three-year sentence.

• Connecticut judges agreed to allow cameras in all Judicial District criminal courtrooms starting in January:

Beginning in January, cameras and recording devices will be allowed at criminal court hearings in the state’s 13 judicial districts. Whether a proceeding may be televised or recorded will be up to the discretion of the judge in the courtroom. Cameras will be prohibited from courtrooms in which the proceedings involve a sexual assault or a juvenile defendant.

Connecticut’s Commission on Child Protection – deep in the red – folds and its responsibilities will now be shouldered by the Public Defender’s Office:

The state agency that pays private lawyers to represent poor parents and children in child-protection cases has run up such a gaping deficit and owes the lawyers so much money that the agency has been abolished; its work will be folded into the public defenders’ office starting July 1.

Nearly 200 private lawyers are owed as much as $2.4 million by the Commission on Child Protection – which had overspent its budget by $3.8 million at one point late last year. That was the largest deficit, by percent of budget, of any agency of state government.

Most of the lawyers devote at least 80 percent of their practice to this work, which includes defending parents who face losing custody of their children in neglect cases brought by the Department of Children and Families. The lawyers, who also represent children in court, haven’t been paid since October or November in many cases.

• Yet another story – this time from CA – that reiterates the inordinate cost of the death penalty:

Taxpayers have spent more than $4 billion on capital punishment in California since it was reinstated in 1978, or about $308 million for each of the 13 executions carried out since then, according to a comprehensive analysis of the death penalty’s costs.

The study’s authors, U.S. 9th Circuit Judge Arthur L. Alarcon and Loyola Law School professor Paula M. Mitchell, also forecast that the tab for maintaining the death penalty will climb to $9 billion by 2030, when San Quentin’s death row will have swollen to well over 1,000.

Among their findings to be published next weekin the Loyola of Los Angeles Law Review:

The state’s 714 death row prisoners cost $184 million more per year than those sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

A death penalty prosecution costs up to 20 times as much as a life-without-parole case.

The least expensive death penalty trial costs $1.1 million more than the most expensive life-without-parole case.

Jury selection in a capital case runs three to four weeks longer and costs $200,000 more than in life-without-parole cases.

The state pays up to $300,000 for attorneys to represent each capital inmate on appeal.

• Police corruption has “forced” prosecutors in the Bay Area to dismiss over 800 criminal prosecutions in the last year:

Bay Area prosecutors have been forced to dismiss more than 800 criminal cases in the past year because of allegations of police corruption that include selling drug evidence, conducting unlawful searches and conspiring to get men drunk and then arrest them on drunk-driving charges.

In some cases, defense lawyers found that security-camera videos in residential hotels—showing police making drug arrests—apparently contradicted the officers’ sworn statements.

In one case, a suspect was seen in a video of his arrest wearing a different jacket from the one the officers entered into evidence.

Last year, the San Francisco district attorney dismissed about 700 criminal cases after a drug crime-lab worker was accused of stealing evidence. This year, since March, the district attorney has dismissed about 125 cases, mainly felony drug prosecutions.

• An interesting opinion from SCOTUS today, in Turner v. Rogers [pdf], holding that while the Constitution does not guarantee the provision of counsel in civil contempt cases where incarceration is a possibility, the Due Process clause mandates certain procedural safeguards before a person may be imprisoned after being held in contempt.

And you say I don’t post anymore.