"My client didn't do it, but I know who did."

When lawyers try to defend criminal cases by arguing not only that their client didn't do the crime, but also that the lawyer knows who did it, judges start to panic. (This defense is known as the wrong-person defense or the third-party defense.) Judges don't like it when defense lawyers start questioning the prosecutor's charging decision. They would much rather that the defendant simply take his medicine instead of trying to cast blame on someone else. After all, things get complicated once we entertain the possibility that the prosecutor charged the wrong person. And sometimes, judges get so crazy about this that their thinking process crosses the line that separates the merely irrational from the clinically insane. 

For example, one judge denied a murder-defendant's right to put on a wrong-person defense, "[e]ven where a third party was seen fleeing from the scene of the crime and admitted to killing other people and burying them in the very woods in which the victims' bodies were later found." Why did the judge exclude this defendant's evidence of innocence and of third-party guilt? It was simply "too threadbare to be admissible." (Interestingly, this defendant's evidence against the third party was much stronger than the prosecutor's evidence against the defendant, yet it was still considered inadequate.) In any case, this stuff makes for interesting reading, as long as it's not happening to you or your client! So check out my newest article, An Alternative to the Wrong-Person Defense, 24 George Mason U. Civil Rights L.J. 1 (2013). For links to my other articles, simply go to my articles page.

"Quote unquote."

When I write blog posts, articles, and even books, I operate largely on intuition and feel. That is, I can't articulate the rules of the English language -- such as where to use a dash or a semicolon -- yet somehow I have a decent idea of what to do. And when it comes to speaking, I, like most people, use language in a fairly sloppy manner, at least compared to my writing. So, given my own imperfections -- which I admit are deep and many -- I am very tolerant of the blogs, articles, and books that I read, and even more tolerant of the podcasts to which I subscribe. But there are a few things that bother me like a fly buzzing around my ear. Let's start with the phrase "quote unquote."

Judging

I've written a lot of posts about judges' inability to grasp basic legal principles, and how frustrating and costly this can be. (For a couple of recent posts, in which you'll find several additional links, see here, here, and here.) I've also speculated, here, that much of this can be traced to the American law schools that produce the graduates who eventually become judges. One of the problems with many of our schools is that they really don't teach a whole lot about legal theory, and even less about lawyering. (They do, however, love to teach social science theory and the law.) One of the reasons law schools don't teach much law is that an increasing number of new law professors -- especially those at elite schools -- have a Ph.D. but no law degree. And, many of the law professors who do have law degrees have never practiced law in the fields they teach; further, many have never practiced law at all, or only in rather sheltered settings for a year or two. The blog Outside the Law School Scam gives an excellent example of this incredibly common law school hiring practice: a law prof teaching criminal procedure who has never practiced criminal law. (The blog post further points out that the prof has "near-zero experience" in legal practice of any kind.) The problem, obviously, is that these law professors can't add anything of value to what a reasonably intelligent law student can do on his or her own: read and think about statutes and case law. And the bigger problem is that these law professors are training -- or, rather, not training -- our future judges. In short, I don't see any improvement on the horizon for the state of our judiciary.      

Please, no more rules

The legal profession is, in some ways, laughable.  We have endless procedural rules that come in numerous forms, including statutes, supreme court rules, appellate court decisions, local court rules, and scheduling orders.  The problem is that judges ignore these rules as fast as they (and the other lawmakers) can dream them up.  For example, you think you have the right to call witnesses at your preliminary hearing just because the statute specifically says you can?  Think again.  You think that evidence against you will be suppressed because your rights were violated?  Unlikely.  You think the prosecutor has to turn over discoverable materials within sixty days of your demand just because the scheduling order commands it?  Not even close.  And how about the most basic thing of all: you think you have the right to testify in your own defense at trial?  Only if the judge is in the mood to hear from you.  No other profession could possibly survive if its professionals were to behave the way judges do.  But where does this judicial disdain for the rule of law come from?

“Judge, have you been studying this at all?”

I’ve written numerous posts—for example, here, here, and here—about defense attorneys trying to put on evidence of innocence during a trial, only to have trial judges shut them down cold. As I explained in those posts, this happens most frequently when the prosecutor objects to a defense lawyer’s line of questioning as calling for “hearsay.” In most cases, however, the testimony isn’t hearsay at all. So the surprised defense lawyer does his best to play educator, and tries to teach the judge about the definition of hearsay. Yet, because many judges just cannot grasp this incredibly important concept, they sustain the prosecutor’s objection in knee-jerk fashion. The defense lawyer—much like a patient whose surgeon doesn’t understand basic human anatomy—is dead in the water (or on the operating table, as it were). 

Now, I don’t mean to make light of this incredibly serious and utterly unacceptable state of affairs in legal education and, consequently, in the judiciary. But when I saw the following short video clip, I couldn’t help but think of physicist Brian Greene as the frustrated defense lawyer, and the other character in the video as the completely uneducated judge, incapable of grasping the lesson. (If the embedded video does not appear below, you can find it on YouTube by clicking here.) Enjoy.

  

Government Shutdowns: A Modest Proposal

All of this federal government shutdown business got me thinking about a possible state of Wisconsin government shutdown.  If that ever happens, which government services would be considered essential, and which would be nonessential and, therefore, suspended or even eliminated?  My modest proposal (for a hypothetical state-government shutdown) is that we could do without the services of many of our appellate courts.  Why?  The story begins with a recent Wisconsin criminal case, where the trial judge prevented the defendant from testifying in her own defense.  If that sounds shocking to you, it should.  Few things (if any) are more fundamental than a defendant’s constitutional right to testify at her own trial.  So why wouldn’t the trial judge let the defendant—here, an eighteen year old girl—take the witness stand?

On the (business) media

I generally enjoy APM’s Marketplace podcast, notwithstanding the host’s all-too-frequent use of the phrase “c’mon, man.”  But in a recent episode, the host interviewed an Ivy League business school professor about “meetings.”  In short, there are about 11 million business meetings in the United States each day.  About half of those surveyed said that about half of their meetings were unproductive or not a good use of their time.  The prof’s conclusion: limit the duration of meetings to force the attendees to be more productive, thus getting more done in less time.  Superficially, that sounds fine.  But on closer inspection, here is my list of complaints about the podcast:

The non-recommendation recommendation (or, government bullshit)

When some prosecutors argue in court, the things they sometimes say are so absurd (and often factually wrong) that I wish the trial judges had some inner Professor Kingsfield and could muster the courage to call bullshit, i.e., tell the prosecutors that they’re offending the concepts of logic, reason, and truth.  The recent case of State v. Locke perfectly illustrates this all too common problem.  In Locke, the prosecutor induced the defendant to plead guilty to some serious felonies, thus saving the prosecutor and the court several days in trial, and taking away all risk that a jury could find the defendant not guilty.  In exchange for the pleas, the prosecutor agreed not to make a specific sentence recommendation.  That is, the prosecutor retained the right to talk about the offenses and say negative things about the defendant, but he promised to leave the specific sentence up to the judge.  So what happened at the sentencing hearing?

Why judges should read The Legal Watchdog

Back in 2011 I wrote a post titled Hearsay 101, and begged trial judges to take the time to learn the rules on hearsay.  I reasoned that trial judges wouldn’t want to have surgery at the hand of a surgeon who doesn’t know basic human anatomy, and defendants don’t want to have their freedom ripped from them because a trial judge doesn’t understand basic rules of evidence.  Unfortunately, after reading the recent decision of United States v. Stern, it is painfully obvious that at least one federal trial judge missed my earlier post.     

Why law schools should line up to pay LST for honesty certification

Not many people like lawyers.  By extension, not many people care for the law schools that produce the law graduates that become lawyers.  To make matters worse, the last few years have been exceptionally tough on the law school industry.  For example:

• Numerous law schools have been sued for false advertising about their graduates’ employment outcomes.  And even when those lawsuits are dismissed, judges sometimes do so because the reported numbers were so obviously false, it wasn’t reasonable for prospective students to rely on them—not exactly a “win” for law schools in the court of public opinion. 

• Worse yet, several mainstream media outlets, and even several current law school professors, have been highly critical of law schools, especially with regard to the cost of earning the degree and the limited employment opportunities that are really available for graduates.       

• These events are at least partly responsible for the dramatic decline in law school applicants.  And with demand for product way down, many law schools have now moved to a near open enrollment policy to try to keep revenues up. 

Even if you disagree with the claims in the lawsuits, and feel that the law degree is still well worth its price, and think that the drop in applications is just a temporary glitch (which it might be), there is no denying that it has been rough going for the law school industry.  Further, with schools just starting to feel the hit of lower enrollments, it is undisputed that revenues will be down and times will be tough for at least a couple of years.  So, given that, what can a law school dean do to improve his school’s fortunes?