sixth amendment
Free-ish
Jan 12th
Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for Georgia and Justice Thomas, I wouldn’t have much to blog about. Having fulfilled the Thomas quota for the night, I now move on to that rotten peach of a state, which seems to be continually perplexed at the existence of the thing called “the indigent defendant” and completely at a loss to deal with them and their pesky “constitutional” rights.
Why just yesterday, the Georgia Supreme Court heard oral argument in a case where the issue, as framed by the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, was:
whether the state’s public defender system can ethically provide and — and also afford — conflict-free representation for thousands of indigent clients.
Go ahead, shed that tear. More, from the concisely named GeorgiaCriminalAppellateLawBlog (a LexBlog production, natch):
So, it came to pass that Michael Edwards, the leader of a circuit public defender’s office in South Georgia came to oral argument at the Supreme Court yesterday where he sat at the same table with an Assistant Attorney General, a prosecutor. Both the prosecutor and the the “public defender” appeared as co-counsel to argue against a bar rule regarding imputed conflicts in the representation of the poor.
What is this cataclysmic event that brought the two sides together? An ethics opinion [PDF], opining rather uncontroversially that:
Lawyers employed in the circuit public defender office in the same judicial circuit may not represent co-defendants when a single lawyer would have an impermissible conflict of interest in doing so.
In plain-speak-ese, if you – an individual lawyer – can’t represent co-defendants at the same time due to a conflict of interest, then neither can anyone else from your office. Not groundbreaking, not so far beyond the pale that it required the unholy union of a public defender and an attorney general.
The United States Supreme Court has long maintained that “a criminal defendant is entitled to be represented by an attorney free from conflicts of interest”. Wood v. Georgia, Strickland v. Washington, Cuyler v. Sullivan…I could go on and on. In fact, I can’t think of an ethical duty that is more important for the criminal defense attorney than this one to provide conflict-free representation. Just as the prosecutor’s duty is to seek justice (go ahead, chortle), ours is to our client and only to our client.
Yet it is this very duty that seems to give defense attorneys the most trouble. It is this unambiguous, bright line, don’t-touch-with-someone-else’s-10-foot-pole duty that somehow turns into a jumbled, confusing incomprehensible mess when it works its way through the neurons of public defender officials. It was this precise issue that the Connecticut Appellate Court considered last October (albeit erroneously concluding there wasn’t a conflict).
How then, given the Constitutional right and the ethical obligation, could the public defender’s office argue that it shouldn’t be required to provide this conflict-free resolution? The answer, as always, is money.
Stunningly, the explanation from the Georgia public defender isn’t that the right doesn’t exist, but that he can’t afford to provide it:
Mr. Edwards pointed out that he can’t afford to engage in egg-headed “philosophical” or “academic” discussions as a GPDSC bureaucrat. He has to be pragmatic about all this. We can’t afford to get off on this business about right and wrong. If you want conflict-free representation, then either stop getting accused of crime or stop being poor.
He didn’t say that last bit, but he might as well have. Public defenders have enough of a PR problem as it is. Siding with the state on whether to provide our clients conflict-free representation isn’t really helping our cause.
Look, I get it. There is only so much money and there are only so many resources. The answer, however, isn’t to capitulate and argue that our clients should be entitled to conflict-free-ish representation, but instead to do what we’re supposed to: stand up for our clients and demand the State to adequately fund the prosecutions they seem so happy to initiate. If, in this no-brainer of a situation, we public defenders take positions that are clearly contrary to our clients’ interests, then is it any wonder that they refuse to trust us and call us pawns of the prosecution?
The duty isn’t ambiguous or predicated on the availability of funds. Free isn’t free-ish.
Conviction by cuteness
Aug 10th
Back in 2009, when I first stumbled across the website (and service) Courthouse Dogs, I was merely amused, thinking in my ’09 naivete that this was such a silly preposterous proposition that it wouldn’t have any legs (let alone 4) and would go away without as much as a woof. Boy, did I bark up the wrong tree (you’re permitted to groan now).
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:
A Cronic problem
Aug 1st
Lawyers, despite what some would have you believe, are people too. We eat, we breathe, we cry, we laugh and we sleep. And there’s nothing wrong with that and there shouldn’t be. Except that last one – sleep – specifically if a lawyer decides that the cross-examination of his client, in front of a jury, is the perfect opportunity to catch a few winks.
Sleeping lawyers have been mentioned on this space before [and elsewhere], so I would be remiss in not pointing out the latest escapade of one who allegedly decided to shut his eyes for a few minutes during that oh-so-unimportant part of a criminal trial. This one comes courtesy of the 6th Circuit (and via Volokh) in Muniz v. Smith [PDF], in which Muniz alleged through the sworn affidavit of a juror that his attorney was, in fact, asleep.
I won’t bother with the facts of the case or the outcome, because both are quite obvious: there is no presumed prejudice under Cronic because there is no record that the lawyer was asleep for a substantial portion of the trial and there is no Strickland violation because goshdarnit Muniz was overwhelmingly guilty.
But the Court’s perfunctory analysis of the issues raises a greater problem: what is it that we expect of lawyers in our criminal justice system? Why is it acceptable for a lawyer to be asleep for even as little as a minute during a criminal trial?
In Cronic, SCOTUS said:
Florida’s death penalty is unconstitutional
Jun 22nd
In a fascinating decision from the United States District Court for the Southern District of Florida, Judge Jose Martinez has ruled that Florida’s capital sentencing statute violates Ring v. Arizona. In Paul Evans v. McNeil [pdf] (scroll to page 78 of the document), the district judge considers – and rejects – 16 claims for relief before finally getting to the Ring claim. For those who don’t know, in Ring v. Arizona, SCOTUS held:
This case concerns the Sixth Amendment right to a jury trial in capital prosecutions. In Arizona, following a jury adjudication of a defendant’s guilt of first-degree murder, the trial judge, sitting alone, determines the presence or absence of the aggravating factors required by Arizona law for imposition of the death penalty.
In Walton v. Arizona, 497 U. S. 639 (1990), this Court held that Arizona’s sentencing scheme was compatible with the Sixth Amendment because the additional facts found by the judge qualified as sentencing considerations, not as “element[s] of the offense of capital murder.” Id., at 649. Ten years later, however, we decided Apprendi v. New Jersey, 530 U. S. 466 (2000), which held that the Sixth Amendment does not permit a defendant to be “expose[d] . . . to a penalty exceeding the maximum he would receive if punished according to the facts reflected in the jury verdict alone.” Id., at 483. This prescription governs, Apprendi determined, even if the State characterizes the additional findings made by the judge as “sentencing factor[s].” Id., at 492.
Apprendi’s reasoning is irreconcilable with Walton’s holding in this regard, and today we overrule Walton in relevant part. Capital defendants, no less than noncapital defendants, we conclude, are entitled to a jury determination of any fact on which the legislature conditions an increase in their maximum punishment.
In other words, any aggravating factor that exposes the defendant to the sentence of death must be found by a jury, beyond a reasonable doubt. A judge cannot find an aggravating factor that then increases the defendant’s punishment to death.
Florida’s capital sentencing statute (see also) permits exactly that:
(1) A person who has been convicted of a capital felony shall be punished by death if the proceeding held to determine sentence according to the procedure set forth in s. 921.141 results in findings by the court that such person shall be punished by death, otherwise such person shall be punished by life imprisonment and shall be ineligible for parole.
(Emphasis mine). In a Florida capital case, the jury’s recommendation as to death is merely advisory. The court, after receiving the jury’s recommendation, must find the existence of an aggravating factor and determine whether that is outweighed by a mitigating factor and then decide whether to impose the sentence of death.
But this highly convoluted and “advisory” process gets even worse: a capital jury does not have to make specific factual findings. Reviewing courts never know what aggravating or mitigating factors were found. It is possible that some jurors found no aggravating factors, or that each juror found a different aggravating factor or all jurors found aggravating factors but some found they were outweighed by mitigation.
All it takes, in Florida, is a simple majority of jurors to recommend a sentence of death. Once that happens, a separate hearing is conducted in front of the judge only. The state and defense may present additional evidence and then the judge has to find an aggravating factor. Since the judge doesn’t know what aggravating factor the jury may have found, he may find an entirely different factor and not find the existence of the one the jury found!
This is squarely at odds with Ring. Under Ring, a jury – and only a jury – can find beyond a reasonable doubt the existence of an aggravating factor that exposes the defendant to the sentence of death.
What’s even more troubling according to Judge Martinez – and I agree – is that there is no evidence to show that the jury in Evans’ case found the existence of an aggravating factor by even a simple majority. Consider the scenario – as in this case – where the jury voted 9-3 in favor of death. Since we don’t know what aggravating factor was found by whom and how many, it’s possible that 5 jurors found the existence of one aggravating factor and 4 jurors another – both below the number 6, which is just half of the jury. While unanimity is not required, the Court is rightly troubled by the fact that this sentencing scheme can permit a man to be sentenced to death when not even 50% of the jurors agree on an aggravating factor.
In this news article, a (presumably) sitting Florida judge [Judge O.H. Eaton Jr., who offers legal analysis for WESH 2 - heh] opines that the decision affects only Mr. Evans and the effect on Florida’s death penalty as a whole will not be felt for years, if at all:
The judge’s decision in the murder-for-hire case only affects that particular trial. Eaton said Florida’s attorney general may file an appeal with the 11th Circuit Court in Atlanta.Eaton said that if the ruling has any effect on Florida’s death penalty statute, it will not be immediate.”That would be several years down the road,” Eaton said.
Perhaps the good judge missed this from footnote 33:
Here, the Court finds that Ring does apply in Florida and the Florida sentencing statute is unconstitutional.
Don’t even think about asking me what this means for the Casey Anthony trial.
Wrong time, wrong battle
Mar 28th
There are several “rules” of practice that all criminal defense lawyers would be well served knowing and understanding. One of them is that we must and should engage in battles with the prosecutors and courts for the sake of our general clientele. But one that is even more paramount, one that goes to the core of our mission to represent each and every client individually, is that you must never fight a battle to the detriment of a specific client.
And I get that this is even more of an issue with public defenders offices across the country, where the ever-increasing pressure of funding cuts leads to the inevitability of “taking a stand” and showing the clueless politicians in the state legislature just how devastating the impact of their poorly thought out budget reductions will go. I get that, even in the relative nirvana of Connecticut, we are severely understaffed in most of our public defender offices. And I get that it’s worse in places like Georgia and Florida and South Carolina.
But just like you’d never forgo a misdemeanor with a suspended sentence in favor of testing out your latest brilliant challenge to the constitutionality of a serious felony statute, there’s a place and a time to fight these fights. And that time isn’t at a critical stage of a criminal proceeding. So it irked me to read Bobby G.’s post today, about a seemingly office wide policy of the public defender’s office in Horry County, SC, to automatically waive all preliminary hearings for clients who are entitled to them.
South Carolina is an odd place to people from the Northeast, like me. They use terms like “general sessions courts” and “solicitors”. They still utilize a grand jury, and – although he doesn’t use it in his post – I bet they have something mechanism whereby cases are “bound over” to some other place.
But the commonality in the language we use this:
The Limp Writ Redux
Mar 4th
Because the State of Connecticut has nothing else to worry about *cough3billiondollardeficitcough*, it’s time for the legislature to entertain bills on all sorts of nonsensical subjects, including one that’s every “dumb on crime” legislator’s favorite whipping boy: Habeas Corpus reform. The bill is exactly the same as the one proposed last year (no, I haven’t done an actual word-by-word comparison, but it looks pretty damn identical to me), so instead of wasting my time crafting an entirely new response, I’m going to follow the learned legislators’ lead and copy and paste my detailed response from last year. But don’t be fooled into skipping past it. It’s awesome and I’m pretty sure I put a lot of hard work into writing it a year ago. That this bill has once again been presented to the legislature is not any indication of the need for habeas reform; rather it is a testament to the improbably short-sighted and bull-headed nature of our elected representatives for whom it is more important to appear as if they’re doing something worthwhile than to actually do it.
—
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:
The stupid; it hurts the brain
Nov 18th
There are few topics in the criminal justice arena that get the masses’ blood boiling as much as sexual assault and the “rights” of those accused of these horrible crimes. When it comes to rape, people generally don’t care about the rules or the Constitution or the fact that no matter how awful and hideous the crime, the procedures must be followed. Which is why we end up with stories like the one I linked to yesterday from the State of Washington:
Of course, even those accused of horrible crimes are entitled to a defense. And just because someone is accused of being a rapist doesn’t make it so. But victims also have rights, and asking them to relive the trauma of a sexual assault via a cross-examination by the perpetrator sure seems to be a violation of them.
Thankfully, there have been efforts to address the situation. Last year, a bill was introduced that would appear to protect defendants’ and victims’ rights alike by allowing the former to question the latter via closed-circuit television or through a surrogate attorney. And while the bill stalled in the state legislature, a similar proposal is expected to be reintroduced in the next legislative session — and recent events ought to persuade previously skeptical politicians.
This is stupid in so many ways, it hurts the brain. How? Let me count the ways. First, as I’ve written extensively, there’s the Constitution:
In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to [...] be confronted with the witnesses against him.
That right of confrontation is “the right physically to face those who testify against him, and the right to conduct cross-examination.” Pennsylvania v. Ritchie, 480 U.S. 39 (1987).
The reasoning is explicit and clear: to have the person making the allegation face the defendant and the jury and look them in the eye. After all, if you’re going to accuse someone of a crime, at least have the conviction to do it face to face:
As the United States Supreme Court has asserted, a defendant’s “literal right to `confront’ the witness at the time of trial … forms the core of the values furthered by the Confrontation Clause.” California v. Green, 399 U.S. 149, 157 (1970); Delaware v. Fensterer, supra; Davis v. Alaska, supra, 315; Dowdell v. United States, 221 U.S. 325, 330 (1911). The clause was originally conceived as a safeguard “to prevent depositions or ex parte affidavits … being used against the prisoner in lieu of a personal examination and cross-examination of the witness in which the accused has an opportunity, not only of testing the recollection and sifting the conscience of the witness, but of compelling him to stand face to face with the jury in order that they may look at him, and judge by his demeanor upon the stand and the manner in which he gives his testimony whether he is worthy of belief.” Mattox v. United States, 156 U.S. 237, 242-43 (1895); see also 5 J. Wigmore, Evidence (3d Ed. 1940) §§ 1365, 1367.
But in almost all cases, this confrontation is had between the accuser and the defendant’s lawyer. The lawyer, who is trained and well-versed in the rules of evidence and who will keep the questioning relevant and professional. The concern in the story that’s the focus of the post is pro-se questioning by defendants, who tend to go off the rails and sometimes seek to bully, embarrass and badger witnesses. Or ask completely irrelevant questions and upset the whole trial. Sure, that’s a concern. But that’s a concern with anything a pro-se defendant does. And here, yet again, there’s that pesky constitution:
That bus is not for your client
Jun 8th
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.
Preempting Strickland
May 9th
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:
The defendant’s right to trial by jury
May 4th
Article III, Section 2, Clause 3 of the Constitution of the United States states:
The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury; and such trial shall be held in the State where the said crimes shall have been committed; but when not committed within any State, the trial shall be at such place or places as the Congress may by law have directed.
The Sixth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States provides:
In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury . . .
The Sixth Amendment was made applicable to the various states through the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States. The Connecticut Constitution, in Article I, Section 8 states:
In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall have a right … in all prosecutions by indictment or information, to a speedy, public trial by an impartial jury.
This is further codified in Connecticut law in both the practice book and the general statutes. C.G.S. 54-82b provides:
(a) The party accused in a criminal action in the Superior Court may demand a trial by jury of issues which are triable of right by a jury. [...]
(b) In criminal proceedings the judge shall advise the accused of his right to trial by jury at the time he is put to plea and, if the accused does not then claim a jury, his right thereto shall be deemed waived, but if a judge acting on motion made by the accused within ten days after judgment finds that such waiver was made when the accused was not fully cognizant of his rights or when, in the opinion of the judge, the proper administration of justice requires it, the judge shall vacate the judgment and cause the proceeding to be set for jury trial.
Practice Book Section 42-1 provides:
The defendant in a criminal action may demand a trial by jury of issues which are triable of right by jury. If at the time the defendant is put to plea, he or she elects a trial by the court, the judicial authority shall advise the defendant of his or her right to a trial by jury and that a failure to elect a jury trial at that time may constitute a waiver of that right. If the defendant does not then elect a jury trial, the defendant’s right thereto may be deemed to have been waived.
The reason I mention all of this is that the other day, I was reading Mark Bennett’s series of interesting posts on jury selection in Texas. He was in the courtroom, not as a participant in the process, and reported the entire voir dire conducted by the prosecutor and pro-se defendant. In his final post, I noted this (which is Mark’s narration of the pro-se defendant speaking to the venirepersons):
AP [prosecutor] is new here, and I had agreed to have case before the judge (objection overruled). I was comfortable with the court system. The court called me a week later . . . (objection sustained). (State refused to waive jury? WTF, AP?)
That got me thinking. As evidenced by the Constitutional provisions listed above, I’ve always believed that the right to trial by jury is the defendant’s and defendant’s alone. Was I mistaken? So I tried to locate the relevant jury waiver provision in Texas’ criminal code. This is what I found:
Art. 1.13. WAIVER OF TRIAL BY JURY. (a) The defendant in a criminal prosecution for any offense other than a capital felony case in which the State notifies the court and the defendant that it will seek the death penalty shall have the right, upon entering a plea, to waive the right of trial by jury, conditioned, however, that such waiver must be made in person by the defendant in writing in open court with the consent and approval of the court, and the attorney representing the State. The consent and approval by the court shall be entered of record on the minutes of the court, and the consent and approval of the attorney representing the State shall be in writing, signed by him, and filed in the papers of the cause before the defendant enters his plea.
(b) In a capital felony case in which the attorney representing the State notifies the court and the defendant that it will not seek the death penalty, the defendant may waive the right to trial by jury but only if the attorney representing the State, in writing and in open court, consents to the waiver.
That’s certainly a little strange. What confounds the matter further is the very next provision:
Art. 1.14. WAIVER OF RIGHTS. (a) The defendant in a criminal prosecution for any offense may waive any rights secured him by law except that a defendant in a capital felony case may waive the right of trial by jury only in the manner permitted by Article 1.13(b) of this code.
But what of Article 1.13(a), which lays out the procedure for waiving a jury in a non-capital case? All the language I could find in constitutional jurisprudence assigned the right to a trial by jury to the defendant only. Take, for example, Patton v. United States, a case in which the defense and prosecution agreed to have the defendant tried by 11 instead of 12, after one juror fell sick. Justice Sutherland, for the majority, wrote:
We come, then, to the crucial inquiry: Is the effect of the constitutional provisions in respect of trial by jury to establish a tribunal as a part of the frame of government, or only to guaranty to the accused the right to such a trial? If the former, the question certified by the lower court must, without more, be answered in the negative.
…
In the light of the foregoing it is reasonable to conclude that the framers of the Constitution simply were intent upon preserving the right of trial by jury primarily for the protection of the accused. If not, and their intention went beyond this and included the purpose of establishing the jury for the trial of crimes as an integral and inseparable part of the court, instead of one of its instrumentalities, it is strange that nothing to that effect appears in contemporaneous literature or in any of the debates or innumerable discussions of the time. This is all the more remarkable when we recall the minute scrutiny to which every provision of the proposed Constitution was subjected. The reasonable inference is that the concern of the framers of the Constitution was to make clear that the right of trial by jury should remain inviolable, to which end no language was deemed too imperative. That this was the purpose of the Third Article is rendered highly probable by a consideration of the form of expression used in the Sixth Amendment.
The Court then concludes:
Upon this view of the constitutional provisions we conclude that Article III, Section 2, is not jurisdictional, but was meant to confer a right upon the accused which he may forego at his election. To deny his power to do so, is to convert a privilege into an imperative requirement.
Lending further support to the argument that the right is the defendant’s alone is the court’s discussion of the ability of the defendant to waive any damn right he pleases:
A defendant is supposed to understand his rights, and may be aided, if he so desires, by counsel to advise him. There are many legal provisions for his security and benefit which he may dispense with absolutely, as, for instance, his right to plead guilty and submit to sentence without any trial whatsoever.
So how does one square this core Constitutional right, which by all accounts, seems to be confer the benefit solely on the defendant along with the ability to waive this right if he so chooses, with what appears to be a prohibition in Texas on the waiver of this right without the permission of the State? Have I misread Texas’ statute? Perhaps Mark can chime in here and clarify things. Do other states have a similar requirement?
[Note: I know that caselaw establishes there is no fundamental right to trial by jury where the punishment does not exceed six months and yes, death is different and in capital cases, the consent of all parties is required to waive a jury.]
[Note 2: If nothing else, the Patton case and State v. Gannon - a 1902 Connecticut case - make for fascinating reading. They both explore the deep and rich history of the Constitution and their underpinnings of the right to a jury trial and the process by which that right came to be recognized.]
Institutional coddling
Apr 27th
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:
Effective misadvice is ineffective
Apr 23rd
[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.
The other Michigan bailout
Apr 21st
Much has been written over the last two years or so about bailouts: bailouts of Wall Street, banks and of course the auto-industry, formerly of Detroit, Michigan. This blog has also focused on bailouts, but those of a different kind: the bailouts of public defender systems which are not forthcoming.
As I’ve mentioned before, we are approaching a tipping point in the fight against constitutionally inadequate public defender systems across the country. The ‘sphere has been atwitter over the news that 14 public defenders in Minnesota have filed a labor grievance over excessive caseloads.
Yet the internet has been oddly silent about a battle on another front in nearby Michigan. In 2007, the ACLU of Michigan filed suit against three counties and sought to have their indigent defense systems declared unconstitutional and to have the state provide funding.
On April 14, 2010, the Michigan Supreme Court heard oral argument in an expedited appeal on the state’s motion to dismiss the lawsuit.You can view the oral argument here [and really, even if you ignore this entire post, make sure you watch the oral argument], and the briefs and other related documents are available here.
The oral argument, despite its premature stage, beautifully frames the core issues at play here: can defendants sue the State to ensure that they receive constitutionally adequate representation; whose duty is it to provide that representation; and just how difficult a task is it to prove that there is a systemic 6th Amendment failure?
[The oral argument is also noteworthy for other things, such as the Attorney General's complete butchering of Cronic and the conflation of the Strickland standard with the civil "injury" and of course, the proffer of the idea that any and all 6th Amendment violations can only be asserted after a conviction.]
The idea of a systemic failure, of course, is not difficult to grasp. States that leave the funding to individual local counties are bound to have an indigent defense system that is arbitrary and inconsistent.
It must be the State’s obligation to provide effective assistance of counsel to all defendants at all stages of a criminal proceeding. That is the only way to ensure that Gideon’s mandate is fulfilled.
Whether this lawsuit will achieve that goal remains to be seen. I suspect, however, that the ACLU and those bringing suit have another motive in mind: to force the state to legislate more funding, as has been done in other states and is currently being done in others still.
It seems that the strategy may be paying off already, at least in Michigan.
Going back to what I wrote earlier, it doesn’t matter what the mechanism employed is, as long as states are forced to confront the reality that their public defender systems are woefully inadequate and that the first step to fixing them is greater funding.
The battle has begun, the war will be won.
Skakel loses the battle, but the war looms?
Apr 15th
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:
Equal justice for all
Feb 15th
On a cold day in January, 1963, 9 men sat atop a perch and listened, for hours, to three other men argue for and against the means to dispense equal justice for all citizens of these United States. A short two months later, in March, Gideon v. Wainwright was born, mandating that States were required to provide attorneys for those who could not afford them to assist with the defense of criminal accusations.
At the time of the decision, public defender systems and counsel for the indigent wasn’t a novel concept: almost 45 states already had either full-fledged public defender systems or court rules that provided for the appointment of counsel. Gideon just provided a Constitutional basis for the widespread notion that all defendants should have access to counsel, in spite of their financial abilities.
Of course, the application of Gideon has been uneven over the years. Some states have strong public defender systems and some provide counsel in a piecemeal, arbitrary and haphazard manner. Much has been written, and continues to be written, about the state of indigent defense.
Without adequate funding, the reality of Gideon‘s promise will fall far short of the ideal. Of course, public defenders aren’t the only players in the game: there is the private defense attorney, who existed long before Gideon provided a way for me to have a job. People with some income are free to hire such an attorney and will always continue to be so.
A new idea has been tossed around these parts (and by that I mean the blawgosphere) over the past few days: that perhaps the best way to ensure equal justice, and for defendants to stand on equal footing with the frightening power of the States, is to have a universal public defender system. “Lawyers for all” is the call, and at first blush it seems like a good idea.
State legislatures these days have criminalized all human actions but breathing. If they are so inclined, goes the argument, then they must also be forced to provide the resources to defend against the zealous overprosecutions. Why must the defendant be left to his own devices and his own resources, when the State has its entire treasury at its disposal? Even the footing, goes the argument, and more prosecutions will fall by the wayside. Perhaps, if they are forced to provide the same resources to both sides, the staggering costs along with the piling “losses” for the State will knock some sense into the “tough on crime” legislators and force a rethinking of the penal code.







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