all your DNA are belong to us

The story of the role of DNA in the criminal justice system is quite interesting. Heralded as the ultimate in crime solving, DNA has slowly infiltrated the collective consciousness of the entire nation and infected our lawyers, judges and jurors. It’s a double-edged sword, to be sure: DNA can accurately (or maybe not) identify an individual who leaves behind some trace materials at or in a crime scene, thereby implicating or exculpating a suspect. Fueled by DNA based shows like CSI, jurors became more demanding and mistakenly over reliant on the science, producing the “CSI effect”, DNA, on the other hand, has drawbacks that defense lawyers try to highlight – which I’m not sure have sunk in yet – like the fact that you it can’t tell you when it was deposited. DNA is most famous for high-profile exonerations of people already convicted of crimes and serving lengthy prison sentences.

But DNA is much more than that. As the science grows, the uses and implications of the genetic markers grows by leaps and bounds (see here and for the future, see here).

Which is why DNA, and the collection of DNA, is so attractive to law enforcement agencies. Unfortunately, as is often the case, the evolution of science and technology and the desired application of these new uses conflicts to some degree with the core protections of the Constitution.

Just yesterday, a 3 judge panel of the 9th Circuit heard an appeal in a lawsuit filed by the ACLU challenging the legality of California’s DNA-collection-upon-arrest law. That’s essentially all there is to the law: collect the DNA of everyone ever arrested. (Connecticut tried to pass a similar bill two years ago and it was ultimately rejected.) Under some circumstances, the DNA may never be deleted from their database:

Under the law, [an arrestee] must wait at least three years from the time of her arrest before seeking to remove her genetic information from the database, a request that either a judge or a prosecutor can veto.

Putting aside the capacity for intrusion into one’s privacy – law enforcement having access to you and your history, your health risk, who you’re related to (and again the issue isn’t that they would, but that they could) – and the racial implications, the possession of such power by the state is repugnant to many of us for the simple reason that it seems to stand at such odds with that basic of principles: the presumption of innocence. If you are to be presumed innocent up until the time of a conviction, then why must the State get to intrude upon your person in such a permanent manner? What is the need to collect your genetic markers, so you may be tagged forever as a potential criminal, when up to that point, you’re guilty of nothing?

Asked by Judge William Fletcher why the state keeps the DNA of people who were not convicted, Powell said those who know their samples are in the database are “less likely to commit future crimes.”

Indeed. Criminals – hard and soft – are kept awake at night by the idea that their DNA might be left behind at the scene, and thus are frightened into living the straight life. It might happen on CSI, but not in real life. In real life, DNA testing takes months due to backlogs; in a lot of cases the DNA isn’t even tested before a case is resolved.

The use of the deterrent argument to justify the preservation of the DNA of innocent people is simply a shield to hide behind. I’m surprised they didn’t tie it in to 9/11 and terrorism somehow. Is it too late to invoke Godwin’s Law? But sadly, these days, anything goes in the name of “safety”.

And it’s quite ironic that the State in this case is all for the preservation of DNA and testing and matching of that DNA to find the suspect that they are otherwise unable to do so, when they routinely stonewall and object to requests to test DNA by convicted inmates seeking to prove their innocence.

Courts have long held that convicted felons have fewer rights than the rest of us, that the fact of conviction necessarily means that they’ve given up some rights. The right to privacy and the right not to be suspected for the rest of their lives are two of them. So it’s easier to justify the taking of the DNA of a felon: once a criminal, always a criminal, so let’s keep tabs on him.

Taking the DNA of people merely arrested seems to extend that terrible generalization to all who are unlucky enough to be arrested, thus furthering the presumption of guilt.

In the end, the equation always seems to include two mutually exclusive concepts: more freedom or more safety?

Abra, incidentally, is now a Connecticut public defender.

Meet Thomas White, also convicted for child sexual assault and who also spent 5 years in prison before a third jury finally acquitted him in 2005.

But Hidalgo and White have more in common that merely being falsely accused of terrible crimes for which they both spent long years in harsh conditions in prison. Both convictions were obtained by a failure of the system: in Hidalgo’s case, aided by the complete inexperience of his defense attorney in what amounted to a constructive denial of counsel; in White’s, horrifying misconduct by the police and prosecutors to hide exculpatory evidence.

Stevensen was working for the Barker and Howard law firm, which provided indigent defense services for Chelan County, when he was assigned in 1995 to represent Hidalgo. He had been admitted to the Washington State Bar less than two years earlier, and had been working as a Chelan County public defender for a little over a year.

In a declaration filed in court on Friday, Stevensen, now a juvenile prosecutor for Chelan County, wrote that he had had limited legal experience and little supervision or support from his employers when he was handed the Hidalgo case.

Stevensen wrote that he was unable to launch a counter defense to medical testimony, offered by prosecutors, that one of the children Hidalgo was accused of attacking had been sexually assaulted. He said that he did not know how to “attack” the strong medical testimony or to call on expert witnesses to attest that children sometimes make up stories of being sexually assaulted when they are improperly questioned by authorities.

It would be pointless for me to recap the problems in White’s case here, so just go read these posts. I’ll wait.

Done?

In both cases, one thing is clear to me: the system failed the defendants. Whether it be the public defender system in Hidalgo or the law enforcement and criminal justice system in White. The difference is that Hidalgo’s lawyer has seemingly taken responsibility for his contribution to Hidalgo’s nightmare, whereas the officer and prosecutor in White’s case pretend like they’ve done nothing wrong.

The suit against the police in White is nothing new. The suit in Hidalgo is extremely rare. Hidalgo’s lawyer settled, because he has malpractice insurance although his suit against the public defender system is still pending.

Someone, ultimately, must pay. In some form or another. While courts have routinely declined to hold prosecutors responsible for their misconduct (see here and here and more generally here and here), defense lawyers have no such immunity. And Stevensen, to his credit, did the right thing. He stood up and took responsibility for his actions. That he is being held financially responsible for his inexperience and not any intentionally malicious act on his part is unfortunate, but as long as courts decline to recognize that the system itself is flawed, the burden will fall on the individual lawyer.

Much about the system, though, is backwards. Just like the detective in White who continues to remain a police officer,

Stevensen was admitted to the Washington State Bar in October 1993 and was hired by Barker and Howard in 1994.

Barker and Howard no longer provides the county’s public defense, but did provide it from January 1994 until December 2002. One of its partners, attorney Keith Howard, then contracted with the county until 2006. In 2007, the county switched to a public defenders office, called Counsel for the Defense of Chelan County, and hired Howard as its director.

Hopefully Stevensen has learned from his mistakes, although he’s now on the other side of the fence as a juvenile prosecutor.

There’s one more thing worth mentioning in Hidalgo, especially in light of the conversation around the ‘sphere a few weeks ago regarding IAC and our responsibilities:

Partway through the trial, Firkins, a private attorney [and Hidalgo's current attorney], sent a letter to the court offering to represent Hidalgo if the judge, Carol Wardell, would grant a two-week continuance. Wardell denied the request, saying in court that she thought Stevensen was doing a good job.

It must’ve been clear to some that Stevensen wasn’t doing a constitutionally adequate job, perhaps even Hidalgo himself. Yet he was denied the opportunity to prevent the injustice prior to its occurrence and only gets some measure of vindication after spending 6 years:

Hidalgo was assaulted while in prison and put in solitary confinement. Other court documents state that he was assaulted twice in prison and spent six months in solitary confinement for his own protection.

One can’t begin to put an economic price on the damage to the lives of Hidalgo and White. Money goes a long way, but it isn’t everything. And the beating taken by the system and our notions of justice? What’s the price on repairing that?

Willingham is dead, there is a controversy over his innocence and David Martin was apparently missing the limelight. So he decided to give an interview to the press in which he said the following:

The veteran defense attorney represented Willingham at trial. He looked at all the evidence. And he has no doubt that his client deserved to die.

“I never think about him, but I do think about those year-old babies crawling around in an inferno with their flesh melting off their bodies,” Martin said. “I think that he was guilty, that he deserved death and that he got death.”

This is a man that, at least in name, represented Willingham. A lawyer, a member of the bar and a capital criminal defense attorney. I use the quotes around the word represented because:

Martin’s case was brief, with just two witnesses. The first was the family baby sitter, who testified there was an oil lamp in the hallway, suggesting it might have spilled and spread flammable liquid. The second was a jail inmate, who was going to dispute the testimony of a jailhouse snitch who claimed Willingham had confessed. But the judge forbid most of his testimony as hearsay.

But of course, one cannot keep a champion fool like Martin quiet. This is not the first time he’s opened his mouth about Willingham and his belief in Willingham’s guilt. A mere few months ago, when the arson story broke, he gave an interview on Anderson Cooper:

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L5cFKpjRnXE[/youtube]

I must’ve missed it, but my good friends over at Defending People and Simple Justice didn’t (see Mark’s post for links to other posts on Martin’s stupidity).

As Scott summed it up:

While no one can make a criminal defense lawyer believe in the innocence of his client, or chose to argue it after his representation has ended, he can be taken to task for doing the unthinkable, the outrageous and the facially wrong.  David Martin’s comments are a disgrace of the lowest order.  And, for good measure, just as criminal defense lawyers aren’t expected to believe in the innocence of every client, they similarly aren’t endowed with the superhuman ability to know when a person who professes innocence is in fact guilty.

I may lack an explanation for what drove David Martin to condemn his own client publicly, particularly in the face of overwhelming evidence of innocence, but I have no doubt that his statements on Anderson Cooper 360 are some of the most despicable I’ve ever heard from the mouth of a lawyer.  Never, but never, smear your own client.

I’m glad to say that no one I know would act like Martin did (although one has come close).

Convicted of murder in 1992, Fernando Bermudez has wrongly been in jail for 17 years. Interestingly, it took only a year from his conviction for the eyewitnesses to recant citing police and prosecutorial pressure and manipulation:

A year after Mr. Bermudez’s 1992 conviction, five witnesses who had identified him as the killer at trial recanted, saying in sworn affidavits that, they were coerced or manipulated by the police and prosecutors to identify Mr. Bermudez as the killer. Several of those witnesses reiterated their recantations in September at a hearing before Justice Cataldo.

Not only that, but all 5 testified at the most recent hearing that they viewed his mugshot as a group and discussed his likeness to the killer: a big no-no in photo array identifications. All the science in this field shows that we have a tendency to compare pictures to each other and to what we think the suspect looks like and pick the one that most closely resembles the person sought to be identified, instead of picking the person who actually is. If you don’t believe me, try this simple test from expert Gary Wells‘ website.

In his 79-page decision, Justice Cataldo wrote that Mr. Bermudez’s rights were violated because the police had allowed prosecution witnesses to view Mr. Bermudez’s mug shot as a group and to discuss his resemblance to the killer. Justice Cataldo also found that the prosecution should have known before sentencing that one of its cooperating witnesses, Efraim Lopez — a teenager whom Mr. Blount had punched at the club — had given false testimony.

But that doesn’t deter prosecutors. In fact, they’re so wedded to the notion that once a conviction is obtained it must be defended at all costs – and certainly one where the reversal is based in part on misbehavior by one of their own – that they utter nonsense like the following:

“We don’t think the defense has shown anything wrong with the verdict,” Mr. Dwyer [the chief assistant Manhattan district attorney] said.

I’m not sure what world Mr. Dwyer lives in that 5 recantations don’t imply something wrong with a verdict, but wherever it is, I don’t want to live there.

What cases like these ought to do is put more focus on SCOTUS’ upcoming decision in Pottawattamie County v. McGhee [oral argument transcript here; scotusblog recap here]. The issue in Pottawattamie is whether prosecutors should enjoy immunity for intentionally coercing false testimony in the investigation phase of a prosecution and then introducing that same testimony at a trial that leads to conviction. In that case:

In 1978, Curtis McGhee and Terry Harrington were convicted of murdering a retired police officer in Pottawattamie County, Iowa and sentenced to life in prison. Twenty-five years later, the release of new files in the cases revealed that prosecutors had fabricated the testimony of a lead witness at their trials and failed to disclose evidence about an alternative suspect to the defense. The Iowa Supreme Court vacated Harrington’s sentence, and McGhee pleaded guilty to a lesser charge in exchange for time served. Both prisoners were freed.

The oral argument in Pottawattamie is something to read. It shocks the mind that something so simple as intentionally framing an innocent person is a phrase never once uttered by any party (not that I remember anyway). Some of the justices were more concerned with the chilling effect on prosecutors. Look, we all acknowledge that most prosecutors try to do their jobs fairly and very, very few of them wouldn’t be bothered by a wrongful conviction on their conscience. But how does removing immunity for intentionally framing someone produce a “chilling” effect on their prosecutorial function? It seems bass-ackwards. If anything, wouldn’t it make prosecutors more careful in whom they pursue and whom they charge? Would  removing such immunity not provide the very result which we seek: no wrongful convictions and certainly none that are obtained by intentional falsification of the evidence? [Listen to NPR's Morning Edition's coverage of this case last week, which includes listener calls from prosecutors and public defenders.]

For me, the answer in Pottawattamie is simple: If you’re a prosecutor who intentionally frames an individual, you should be sued. Not only should you be sued, but you should be disbarred. The latter is less likely to happen than I am to become the next Chuck Norris, but the former should be a real threat. The power of a prosecutor is awesome and that power should be wielded with great care and never with malice or dishonesty.

Had police and prosecutors not pressured 5 people into falsely identifying Mr. Bermudez, he probably wouldn’t have spent 17 years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. That’s the real moral of this story, not the legal fiction of “opening floodgates” or “chilling effects”. Anyone who gives any weight to such an argument needs to spend 17 years in jail in his place.

And because it’s a Sunday night, I give you this little joke:

Get it?

The second half of the title should also come as no surprise, though. And there’s a new report to back it up [here's a link to the actual report]. The man in question is Cameron Todd Willingham, convicted of setting fire to his house that killed his children in 1991. The new report states that Texas fire marshals had no basis to conclude that the fire was set intentionally and in all likelihood was an accident. Willingham was executed in 2004, maintaining his innocence to the end.

Among [Craig] Beyler’s key findings: that investigators failed to examine all of the electrical outlets and appliances in the Willinghams’ house in the small Texas town of Corsicana, did not consider other potential causes for the fire, came to conclusions that contradicted witnesses at the scene, and wrongly concluded Willingham’s injuries could not have been caused as he said they were.

The state fire marshal on the case, Beyler concluded in his report, had “limited understanding” of fire science. The fire marshal “seems to be wholly without any realistic understanding of fires and how fire injuries are created,” he wrote.

The marshal’s findings, he added, “are nothing more than a collection of personal beliefs that have nothing to do with science-based fire investigation.”

And it isn’t Beyler alone. Nine of the nation’s top fire scientists reviewed the Willingham case and concluded that “the original investigators relied on outdated theories and folklore to justify the determination of arson.”

And that’s not all. There was some other evidence of his guilt: jailhouse snitch testimony. That doyen of reliable information. To paraphrase Radley Balko, junk science and a jailhouse snitch do not a reliable conviction make.

Good job Texas. Good job death penalty advocates.

Percolating in the back of my head was some chagrin directed toward the prosecutors in the Clarence Elkins case (aka #92), the subject of Friday night’s Dateline. Elkins, in a case with some parallels to Miguel Roman, was convicted of raping his niece and raping and murdering his mother-in-law based on one single dubious eyewitness: his niece, who told cops that the killer looked like her uncle. Clarence, meanwhile had an alibi: he had been drinking heavily at a bar and then came home to his wife, who was awake. They went for a walk.

The police, however, got their blinders on because of the statement of the niece, despite the fact that rudimentary DNA testing excluded Elkins. Elkins’ wife, convinced of his innocence, began investigating on her own:

In 2002, Elkins’ niece recanted her testimony about Elkins being the perpetrator. That same year, Elkins made a request for DNA testing, which was denied on the grounds that the results would not prove Elkins’ innocence.

Despite this ruling, Elkins managed to provide his own funding for Y-STR testing on evidence from the crime. Y-STR is a relatively new form of testing that isolates certain characteristics of the male chromosome suitable for comparison. In 2004, Elkins’ lawyers at the Ohio Innocence Project cooperated with the prosecutor’s office to send evidence to Orchid Cellmark, a nationally recognized forensic lab.

The results of this testing excluded Elkins as the possible perpetrator of the rape and murder. A male profile was found on male skin cells from both the grandmother’s vaginal swab and the young girl’s underwear. Elkins moved for a new trial. On July 14, 2005 the court denied Elkins’ motion.

The State, meanwhile, was not convinced. They claimed that because the DNA was from skin cells, it wasn’t conclusive that Elkins was excluded as the real perpetrator. Eventually, after some considerable risk to his own life in prison, Elkins and his wife were able to get the DNA of the man they believed committed the crime. But even that wasn’t enough for prosecutors. They wanted more.

Just today, the Hartford Courant has a front page story about two men, similarly claiming innocence:

The DNA found on the electrical cord used to bind the hands of a shop owner slain 15 years ago doesn’t belong to either of the two men convicted of killing him.

Fingerprints found on the door handle of the store’s safe are not theirs, and the state’s main witness now admits in a taped interview that she lied when she testified at their trial.

But Ronald Taylor and George Gould are still sitting in a Connecticut prison — serving 80 years for the July 4 murder of Eugenio Vega DeLeon in 1993.

The similarities between Taylor and Gould’s case and Elkin’s case are eerie: In both, there is a recanting eyewitness. In both, there are alibis. In both, there is a wife convinced of innocence fighting to prove it. In both, there is DNA evidence that excludes the defendants and for now, in the former, the prosecutors have refused to test the DNA of the man the defense believes is responsible. Finally, like in Elkins, the prosecutor in New Haven isn’t convinced:

“Having reviewed the file presented by Gerry O’Donnell, it wasn’t like in the Roman case, where there was clear-cut evidence,” Dearington said. “In this case it’s not clear that the inappropriate person or persons were convicted.”

Dearington said that although O’Donnell’s report raised questions about the original case, he wasn’t about to order the release of two convicted murderers based mostly on “pure conjecture and speculation.”

The prosecutor is more willing to leave it to a court to decide, with a hearing on the petition for The Great Writ scheduled for June. Will the similarities between Elkins’ case and Taylor and Gould’s case continue? It remains to be seen.

All of this makes one wonder: why are prosecutors so fiercely protective of their wins? Certainly, there is much to be said about the finality of convictions (and indeed courts around the country have written enough about it to replenish the rainforests) and the need for closure, but none of these cases present ordinary circumstances.

Both prosecutors, in Elkins and Taylor and Gould have shown or are showing caution in proceeding. The prosecutor in Elkins took a long time convincing herself that Elkins was indeed innocent – seeking voluminous DNA testing, and she took an even longer time to charge the man who actually commited the crime. The prosecutor in Taylor and Gould is taking the ultimate cautious approach: a hands off one. Leave it to the judge and let him take the rap.

If only they’d been this cautious or skeptical of evidence the first time around. Which brings me to my last story, via David Tarrell. Prosecutors in Omaha have announced that they will no longer be accepting plea bargains from adult defendants. In any case. At all. [In other news, Omaha's criminal justice system shot itself in the head.]

It is not necessarily a hard-nosed approach, he said. In fact, in some cases defendants may face lesser charges if he doesn’t think he can prove a more serious charge at trial. He said the new philosophy will require him and his two full-time deputies to carefully consider the charges they file against people.

“This prevents overcharging,” Ritnour said. “You will see at certain times that law enforcement or prosecutors will throw whatever they can at somebody, hoping something will stick while other charges get thrown out in a plea bargain. We’re going to see what we should charge people with and stick with it.”

I, for one, am not buying it. This will be a short-lived experiment, during which a whole bunch of defendants will get screwed. This stance places a lot of faith in prosecutors’ ability to see their case for what it is and not for what it might be. It also raises some questions: what charges is he talking about? I don’t know how it works in NE, but here, the charges can be changed at any time via a substitute information. So if the cops charge Assault 1st at the arrest and the prosecutor, either at arraignment or at some point further down the line, say after an extensive defense investigation, is of the opinion that Assault 1st is no longer viable or is risky, will offer a plea to Assault 3rd. That doesn’t mean that the prosecutor thinks it’s unprovable, just that it’s unlikely. Is that what Ritnour is saying? Because if it is, then I don’t know the difference between what he’s saying and plea bargaining. Or is he saying that they won’t file charges until they’re absolutely sure of what they can prove, regardless of what any further investigation turns up? Because that’s a hollow policy.

He’s also implying that there will be no guilty pleas whatsoever. That’s a ridiculous assertion, even if there is no right to plead guilty. The volume would be crushing. What of the defendant, who agrees that he commited Assault in the Third Degree and the prosecutor is of the same mind. Why waste everyone’s time and money and go to trial? Would a plea not suffice in that situation?

Anyway, let us assume that he means he won’t charge someone with crimes he doesn’t think he can prove. How sure does he have to be? The two innocence stories above are examples of shoddy investigation. I’m sure prosecutors in both cases thought (and still think) that they could prove their cases. It raises an interesting question: do the two innocence cases serve to bolster Ritnour’s new policy or do they inform us that no matter what, defending a win seems to be of prime importance.

See more from the Viscount of the blawgosphere.

As always on this blog, there are no answers. Only (stupid) questions.

Judge David P. Gold agreed after a brief hearing today to release Roman, 52, on a promise to appear in court. Roman’s lawyers, citing evidence that appears to exonerate Roman in the 1988 killing of 17-year-old Carmen Lopez, petitioned for a new trial for Roman.

Gold granted that motion today.

Prosecutor David Zagaja noted that the petition for a new trial stems from newly discovered evidence stemming from a technology that “simply didn’t exist” in 1988. It was not immediately clear whether the prosecution will proceed to a new trial or move for a dismissal of the case.

It would be remarkable if the State decided to prosecute him again, so  I don’t think that will happen. More likely than not, the charges will be dismissed.

The saddest part of this story is the 20 years of his life that Roman lost. I wonder what sort of compensation he’ll get, given that CT failed to pass an exoneree compensation bill after Tillman’s exoneration.By my updated count, this would be the 5th DNA exoneration in CT and 13th exoneration overall.

Anyway, some good news on a crappy day. Innocence Project FTW!

Nearly 30 years ago, three women either disappeared or were found murdered. One person linked all three investigations: Pedro Miranda. The police could never get enough to charge him and eventually another man – Miguel Roman – was convicted of the murder of one of them and sentenced to 60 years in prison.

A few days ago, armed with new DNA evidence, police arrested Miranda for the three killings.

State investigators reopened the Lopez case at the request of the Connecticut Innocence Project, which wanted to retest DNA samples found on Lopez’s body and at the crime scene. Roman was convicted even though an FBI analyst testified at his trial that the DNA was not his.

In the months since Miranda’s DNA was tied to the crime, the CT Innocence Project (which, you will remember, was instrumental in securing the release of James Tillman) has been working on Roman’s case. To coincide with Miranda’s arrest, they filed a petition for new trial in Hartford Superior Court.

So how was Roman convicted? The usual: jailhouse snitch testimony and a wily argument from the prosecutor:

Police eventually charged Roman with murder in Lopez’s death. During his trial, however, an FBI analyst testified that DNA taken from Lopez’s body did not match Roman’s. Prosecutor John Massameno argued to the jury that the DNA could have been left by another person who had no connection to the killing.

Massameno presented evidence from a jailhouse snitch that Roman had confessed to killing Lopez after he encountered another man leaving her apartment.

Massameno is currently defending the State in the “racial and geographical disparity in the death penalty” litigation.

Jailhouse snitch testimony really is not very credible and this is a prime example of why not. Snitches in jail (as opposed to regular snitches) have a great incentive to lie and to make up stories, thereby providing police with that “confession”. People should know this. The police should know this. After years and years of discredited jailhouse snitch testimony, you’d think they’d have learned to shy away from it. The only way jailhouse snitch testimony should be believed is if there is corroborating evidence.

Miranda’s DNA, apparently, cannot be excluded from any of the physical evidence at the crime scene, while Roman’s can be:

DNA results also show that Miranda cannot be eliminated as the source of the DNA found in Lopez’s body, on cloth strips and an extension cord used to choke her, and on several cigarette butts left in an ashtray near Lopez’s body.

Investigators also retested Roman’s DNA and it does not match any of the samples found at the Lopez crime scene, a key part of his new claim to be released from prison.

[Sidetrack: A petition for new trial is generally barred after 3 years, except, due to a 2000 amendment, in cases involving DNA.]

Now, as some suggest, it is curious that Roman is still sitting in jail, despite the arrest of Miranda. Nothing in the arrest warrant suggests that Roman was an accomplice of Miranda in this killing or that he was in any any way involved. Naturally, both men cannot be in prison for independently and separately committing the same crime. However, I’m more willing to wait until Monday, when Miranda is arraigned, before raising a stink. Sure, he has to spend an extra weekend in jail, but the criminal justice system isn’t perfect. If the State doesn’t agree to release Roman on bail on Monday, pending the resolution of his petition for new trial, you know how I’ll get.

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:

First, in Texas, where Houston Criminal Defense Lawyer, aka Mark Bennett is covering the election of Pat Lykos as DA, and the impact it has had on attorneys in the prosecutor’s office (for a first hand take, see AHCL’s posts here and here). After promising not to fire anyone who worked hard and was competent, she promptly fired everyone (or close to it).

The other cautionary tale is from Florida, which I mentioned in the Jumpstart on Monday. This one is a little more puzzling. Bill White, a public defender for 34 years was defeated in the election by Matt Shirk, an attorney who spent 5 years in the public defender’s office and 4 years in private practice. He was endorsed by the Fraternal Order of the Police and, by some accounts, promised not to raise questions about the integrity of the police and their work. He also stated:

he has no intentions of making sweeping personnel changes to the office of 140 employees, but plans to put his own management team in place.

And then he promptly fired the 10 most experienced attorneys in that office. Two of those 10 are Pat McGuiness and Ann Finnel, both of whom represented Brenton Butler in an infamous murder case in 2000, that resulted in Butler’s acquittal. Both McGuiness and Finnel were simultaneously featured in an Oscar winning documentary about Butler’s case. [CT pd, you should remember this documentary and remember McGuiness. He spoke at a seminar once and the documentary was screened at the Mystic annual meeting. If you, like me, slept through it, then go rent it and watch it now.]

McGuiness believes the firings are payback:

“There are very few people who would have acted as divisively as Mr. Shirk in term of ridding the office of skill and experience without interviewing a single attorney or looking at a single personnel file,” McGuiness said.

The mass firing occurred eight years to the day of when Butler was found not guilty after McGuiness and other attorneys who were recently fired proved the sheriff’s department bungled the case.

McGuiness said the firings are payback.

McGuiness, Finnel and others fired are considering legal action. I know nothing about employment law, so maybe someone who does can chime in.

Given all of this (and this surely isn’t the first time something of this nature has occured), I wonder why states continue to elect their judges and other officials, who really should be civil servants. It creates an odd power game, where being a judge isn’t in the highest strata – it is being a public defender. Whether it is in Texas or FL or on Raising the Bar, you routinely read the resumes of district attorneys and see “former Judge” in them. We have this system backwards, don’t we? Do judges aspire to be prosecutors? I thought it was the other way round.

As Bobby G put it:

given the public’s abhorrence for and general misunderstanding of criminal defense and why we need it, public elections could be a recipe for disaster. Imagine if a candidate for office runs on a campaign of being tough on crime, easy on cops, and easy on the public dime (what the public wants to hear) and then they are elected?

That’s exactly what happened. Judges and public defenders should be beholden to no one except the law and their clients, respectively. Prosecutors, I think, should also be free from the encumberances of public pressure. Because almost always, public pressure veers prosecutors away from discretion and toward draconian and harsh punishments. In the very few cases that the public feels prosecutors are being unjust and unfair, they have the opportunity to rectify that: the jury.

Can anyone make a convincing argument for election?

*Image taken shamelessly from this year’s Senate race in MN between Al Franken and Norm Coleman. Via MPR.