sixth amendment

The defendant’s right to trial by jury

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

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

[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

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.

Equal justice for all

...and Gideon cry

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.

To have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence

Clarence Earl Gideon, we salute you. On the first go around, sans counsel:

and after the landmark decision:

HT: Tannebaum

Face-to-ski mask: a defendant’s right to confront his cat burglar

Do you feel lucky?

Do you feel lucky?

I’m not quite sure how to introduce this story (and the case that it covers) in a pithy manner, so I’m just going to get to it: New Hampshire’s Supreme Court recently ruled that it’s okay for a police officer to testify at a criminal trial while wearing a ski-mask to protect his identity because he was working in an undercover unit at the time of the trial.

Yes, you read that right. In State of New Hampshire v. Jose Hernandez, a police officer who had conducted an interview with the complaining witness was permitted to sit there like a cat burglar, with a ski mask on his face. The State’s reasoning – bought by the trial court – was that the officer’s identity needed to be protected. Nevermind the fact that the jury viewed the interview with the complainant in which his face was uncovered and that everyone knew his name. Oh and that pesky Confrontation Clause thing.

Let’s look at that. The Confrontation Clause provides that:

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to [...] be confronted with the witnesses against him.

Federal court decisions have interpreted this to mean eyeball-to-eyeball confrontation. The confrontation clause affords the criminal defendant two types of protections: “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). And there’s a reason for this. The accuser, or any other witnesses on the accusers behalf, should have to face not only the defendant, but the jury that is deciding the defendant’s fate. The jury should have the opportunity to observe the witness and the witnesses reactions and demeanor.

The Connecticut Supreme Court has not yet considered (that I could find) whether a witness testifying in disguise violates the Confrontation Clause. It has, however, considered whether an accuser can testify outside the presence of the defendant and not in court. In State v. Jarzbek, the Court permitted the videotaping of a minor who had accused the defendant of sexual abuse. While the court in Jarzbek ultimately permitted the introduction of videotaped testimony instead of live testimony at the trial, the jury had the opportunity to observe the demeanor of the complainant. Jarzbek, however, emphasized the importance of having the ability to look the accuser (or by extrapolation a witness) in the eye and having that witness face the jury:

Might OJ Simpson have a Sanders claim?

how did I end up back here?

One interesting piece of information in this OJ Simpson brouhaha is the revelation that he may have rejected a plea offer for a sentence as low as 3 years. The first word came from a friend of The Juice and it was later confirmed by his lawyer.

Sanders, in the post title, refers to a CT Superior Court decision: Sanders v. Warden1. Obviously, OJ wouldn’t get the benefit of this particular case, because, as much as Mohegan Sun wants it to be, this is not Vegas. The principle Sanders stands for is borrowed from a 1996 Second Circuit decision: Boria v. Keane.

Selection, naturally

to vote or not to vote

What has always struck me as rather curious about the various jurisdictions in the US is their disparate ways of employing judges and state’s attorneys and public defenders. Some states elect their officials, some states select them.

In Connectictut, I guess one could say that the state’s attorneys, public defenders and judges are akin to civil servants. It is, fundamentally, a merit-based system, where you are appointed and then promoted based on your abilites and performance. Not all states do it this way and I wonder why. Two recent stories would highlight my query:

Are an informant’s questions testimonial?

A co-conspirator is in jail. The police send in a confidential informant, wired, to talk to the co-conspirator. The informant asks the co-conspirator questions about the crime, prodding him, making assertive statements which elicit mono-syllabic responses from the subject.

The State attempts to use the transcription of the tape of that conversation as evidence against the defendant. Clearly, the co-conspirator had no idea that he was talking to someone acting for law enforcement or that his words would be used at trial. The question, though, is whether the informant’s questions testimonial under Crawford and thus inadmissible?

The CT Supreme Court recently faced this question in State v. Smith [pdf]. The Court notes:

In the present case, we view Williams’ recorded statements as falling into three separate categories: (1) nonassertive vocalizations, e.g., ‘‘mm-hmm’’ or ‘‘yeah’’; (2) questions Williams directly posed to Estrella about the crime; and (3) statements Williams made that directly implicated Estrella or the defendant in the  commission of the crime.

The Court is quick to decide that the first category is non-testimonial. Deciding whether those that fall into the second category is a matter of context, the Court writes. Despite some leading questions, the Court finds that most of those questions about the crime were to provide context to other questions and were not assertions of fact.

In addressing the final category, the Court finds that the informant was clearly aware that this entire conversation was being taped with an eye to a prosecution. In fact, it was the informant who approached the authorities to obtain favor in his cases. The Court does not hesitate in finding those statements testimonial and since the informant was unavailable at trial, a violation of his Confrontation Clause right.

The defendant still lost on appeal, however, due to our good friend Harmless Error. The Court finds that the informants assertive statements were merely cumulative.

Still, it’s a good start and something to keep in mind in future cases. Where the transcript of any such conversation between the defendant and an informant is dominated by the informant, the CT Supreme Court can be fairly said to have ruled that those statements are testimonial.

Confronting swastikas

Sandy Zombie, round 2You represent a man who belongs to an ethnic minority, charged with shooting a weapon illegally. The state’s main witness is his acquaintance, a caucasian male. He gives some damning and incrimination testimony. Then you notice tatoos on his arm. Swastikas. Do you cross-examine about any bias he might harbor toward a man of color?

That’s pretty close to the scenario that unfolded in U.S. v. Figueroa, in which the Second Circuit recently ruled that it was an abuse of discretion for the trial court to bar such cross-examination.

Judge Sack writing for a panel of the Second decided:

Inasmuch as the tattoos suggested that Wright harbored animus against racial or ethic minority groups and their members, they were relevant to and probative of Wright’s credibility, bias and a motive to lie when testifying against Figueroa

The fact that a witness customarily carries or displays a swastika, as a tattoo or otherwise, therefore would tend to suggest that he or she holds racial, religious or ethnic prejudices. That in turn suggests a basis on which the jury could find the witness’s testimony not credible.

It makes sense. The point of questioning the witnesses affiliation with any white supremacist groups is precisely to determine whether he had any motivation for fabricating his testimony. A lot of people who sport swastika tattoos make no bones (hah) about the fact that they consider themselves racially superior to others. And when you harbor such deep bias against another person on the basis of their skin color, it is a fair question whether that in of itself is sufficient to render the testimony incredible.

So why is there not a more excited tone in this post? Because the Second Circuit eventually ruled that it was harmless error. D’oh!

[The swastika, incidentally, has a long history that is not all Nazi-related. In some cultures, it is a revered symbol, which signifies good, as opposed to evil.]

Creative Commons Licensephoto credit: Mez Love

Gideon’s promise: Determining who benefits

Gideon made his promise a long time ago and States began providing indigent defendants with counsel in criminal cases. Much has been said over the years about the promise being fulfilled and states not providing counsel, but the Brennan Center for Justice at NYU Law tackles the flip side of the problem in a new report [pdf]: just who is eligible for counsel?

The report examines guidelines across the nation and determines that there is no one consistent standard for determining eligibility. People who really should get counsel don’t and people who shouldn’t, do. SCOTUS has never defined what the eligibility standards should be, so States have been free to set their own. I know CT follows the Federal Poverty Guidelines, but other states do not. Some states disqualify defendants if they own a home or a car. Given the cost of private counsel, it may not be feasible for even people with “equity” to hire their own attorneys. This results in them either hiring bad lawyers or representing themselves and taking bad deals.

The report makes several recommendations and offers guidelines for eligibility determination:

  • Screen people seeking the appointment of counsel to ensure that they are financially eligible.
  • Apply screening criteria and processes uniformly, and commit them to writing.
  • Ensure that screening is performed by someone who does not have a conflict of interest.
  • Ensure that counsel is provided to those unable to afford it.
  • Streamline screening to speed up the process and save money.
  • Ensure that required procedural protections are in place.

The third recommendation above is the product of some interesting findings. For example, in some jurisdictions, prosecutors make the initial eligibility determination. (!) In other jurisdictions, they can challenge a determination of eligibility.

The report also suggests that it is unethical for the public defender’s office itself to make eligibility determinations, because it creates a conflict of interest.

Defenders’ personal interests come into play in several ways when they are asked to screen their own clients. For example, in order to provide adequate representation to their clients, public defenders must maintain manageable caseloads. For salaried defenders, and defenders with a contract to represent all defendants in a given geographic area, this may create an incentive to conclude that potential clients are ineligible for representation. Thus, an assistant public defender in Schuyler County, New York, told investigators from the NAACP Legal Defense and Education Fund “that he uses eligibility requirements to limit the number of clients he will represent.” Defenders may also have an incentive to reject cases that are time-intensive, controversial, or undesirable in some other way. The Schuyler County defender exemplifies this risk, too – he reported “telling eligible defendants that if they are willing to work out a deal with the DA that day, he will represent them.”

This is interesting and I’m not sure I agree. In CT, usually it is the investigator from the public defender’s office who does the intake and determines eligibility. This job is also charged to the public defender’s office by statute. I’ll have to give this conflict angle more thought.

The report does recommend, however, that if public defenders are making eligibility determinations, such determination not be made by the attorney who will represent the client.

Overall, I think these are good recommendations and my experience in CT has been that we err on the side of caution and try to represent as many clients as possible. It’s not like this will get any easier. According to a new report, prosecutions are up.

What’s your experience in other states?

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