Understanding Hate Crime Statutes and Building Towards a Better System in Texas

By Ben Gillis*

Volume 40.2

* The University of Texas School of Law, J.D. expected 2013; B.A., Brigham Young University, 2009.  The author would like to thank Professor Michele Deitch, of the University of Texas LBJ School of Public Affairs, for her help and support with this Note.

Introduction

On April 22, 2012, three women were assaulted outside a bar in Williamson County, Texas.[1]  Julie Ward, one of the victims, said that she and her companions had been targeted because they were gay.[2]

Ward claimed that she, her sister, and her sister’s partner were first asked to leave the bar because of their sexual orientation.[3]  She said that next, patrons of the bar followed them outside, restrained them, and assaulted them.[4]  The bar manager’s wife, meanwhile, told a different story: that the women were roughhousing; that they were not asked to leave the bar because of their sexual orientation; and that they were not assaulted at all.[5]  When asked whether the incident would be considered a hate crime, a representative from Williamson County Sheriff’s Office said only that an investigation was ongoing and that “if ‘it is warranted that charges be filed for a hate crime, charges will be filed.’”[6]

Incidents such as this fuel an ongoing nationwide debate about the proper scope and function of hate crime laws.  How will law enforcement investigate such offenses?  Under Texas’s current bias crime statute, will a prosecutor be willing or even able to charge perpetrators with a hate crime?  While it is undisputed that bias-motivated crime should not be tolerated, there is little consensus as to whether current laws actually prevent hate crimes from occurring.[7]  Are our current laws effective?  One obvious goal of such statutes is to reduce crime, but aside from that objective, are current laws serving the community through public awareness and education?

Nowhere are these questions more appropriate than in Texas.  Despite the fact that Texas has had a hate crimes statute on the books since 1993, prosecutors seem extremely reluctant to charge defendants with hate crime offenses.  Indeed, data indicates that Texas prosecutors have only used the hate crime law eighteen times since 2001.[8]  If prosecutors are not utilizing hate crime laws, the public will not become educated about this important issue, and perpetrators will not be held accountable for their actions to the fullest extent provided by statute.  Of course, while higher rates of prosecution do not necessarily mean that a hate crime statute is effective at stopping crime, prosecution is at least evidence that the statute is being used.  What can be done to make Texas’s hate crime statute more accessible to prosecutors and, ultimately, more effective at curtailing crime?

This Note will first explore the history, types, and scope of hate crime statutes throughout the United States.  It will then analyze hate crime statistics in a number of particular states, in order to determine which are utilizing their hate crime statutes, and whether the construction of those states’ statutes has any effect on hate crime rates.  Finally, it will outline suggestions about how Texas’s hate crimes statute and reporting programs can be improved.


[1].Claire Osborn, Sheriff’s Office Investigating Report of Assault on Gay Women Outside Weir Bar, Austin American-Statesman, Apr. 24, 2012, http://www.statesman.com/news/williamson/
sheriffs-office-investigating-report-of-assault-on-gay-2323580.html.

[2].Id.

[3].WATCH: Lesbian Says She Was Kicked Out of Williamson County Bar, Beaten by Patrons, Dall. Voice, April 24, 2012, http://www.dallasvoice.com/lesbian-beaten-bar-north-austin-10107483.html.

[4].Id.

[5].Id.

[6].Id.

[7].See generally Susan Gellman & Frank Lawrence, Agreeing to Agree: A Proponent and Opponent of Hate Crime Laws Reach for Common Ground, 41 Harv. J. on Legis. 421 (2004) (discussing the arguments for and against bias-crime laws and proposing a model bias-crime statute to balance the competing concerns of proponents and opponents of such laws).

[8].Cases in Which a Hate Crime Finding was Requested, Tex. Judicial Council (Dec. 11, 2012), http://www.txcourts.gov/oca/hate_crimes.pdf.

A Presumptive In-Custody Analysis to Police-Conducted School Interrogations

By Sally Terry Green*

Volume 40.2

*Associate Professor, Thurgood Marshall School of Law, Texas Southern University; J.D., 1990, Tulane University Law School, New Orleans, Louisiana; B.A., 1987, Stanford University, Stanford, California.

Introduction

A child and his parent anticipate an array of experiences that the child might encounter on any given school day.  Some experiences are beyond their reasonable expectation.  For instance, being subjected to police questioning incident to an active police investigation is not usually within the scope of educational experiences that either the parent or the child would anticipate.  Nevertheless, police questioning in the schoolhouse is becoming more common as the incidents of crimes committed by children increase.[1]  Because police investigations increasingly involve interrogation of child suspects in schools, consideration for their constitutional rights is crucial.  While the constitutional protections afforded by the United States Supreme Court in Miranda v. Arizona[2] have provided protection for adults against self-incrimination, the custodial analysis has not always afforded the same to child suspects.[3]  Specifically, the reasonable person’s belief that he or she is free to leave police-initiated interrogations is not qualitatively the same for a child suspect.[4]  The special circumstances presented by the school setting further complicate the determination of what a reasonable child suspect believes when confronted with police questioning.[5]  Children will not likely assess the legal consequences of making statements to the police.[6]

Additionally, the risk of self-incrimination and the evolution of legal jurisprudence relevant to false confessions foundationally explain how even children who commit crimes are incapable of fully understanding the consequences of their actions.[7]  State statutes generally provide age limits[8] when determining a child’s ability to comprehend his or her constitutional rights under the Fifth Amendment, as well as the child’s ability to knowingly waive them.[9]  Age limits are especially important when children operate under the false perception that they are not under the authority of the police, as in school interrogation situations.[10]  The United States Supreme Court addressed application of the Miranda custody analysis in its recent ruling, J.D.B. v. North Carolina,[11] where the Court determined that “age may indeed be relevant” when affording children Fifth Amendment protections against self-incrimination during police-conducted school interrogation.[12]  Certainly, age is relevant when determining whether it is cruel and unusual punishment to impose the death penalty on juveniles or to impose life without parole sentencing[13] based on the legally recognized theory of diminished culpability.[14]  The Court’s age-is-relevant ruling, however, does not sufficiently protect children during in-school interrogations where they might operate under the false perception that their statements and actions are not made under the authority of the police.[15]  The States should therefore adopt a presumptive in-custody determination that eliminates the two-step totality of circumstances and reasonable child test.[16]  Each state should amend its juvenile Miranda statute[17] or adult Miranda statute, as the case may be, to include a presumption that children should be provided Miranda warnings when questioned in the school setting.[18]  The police authorities may interview children at school, but no statement made to the police can be admissible under the proposed presumption unless it is made in the presence of a parent, guardian or attorney.  In effect, the child suspect would have to be escorted to the police station since a parent, guardian or attorney is not likely to be present at the school.  While in the presence of a parent, guardian or attorney, the police can provide proper Miranda warnings to the child suspect before any statements can be admitted into evidence or any determinations are made regarding the waiver of rights.  By amending statutes to include a presumption that a child is in custody,[19] the states would extend a heightened level of constitutional protection that is necessary given the enhanced risk of false statements made in the school setting.[20]

The United States Supreme Court’s jurisprudence has recognized a heightened risk of coercion and subsequent false confessions by juveniles during interrogation, yet the J.D.B. Court held that considering age as a relevant factor is enough to address these risks.[21]  In the school interrogation context, obtaining a knowing, intelligent, and voluntary confession is inextricably linked to the custodial interrogation analysis.  Consequently, the law addressing the voluntariness of confessions must necessarily be considered when applying legal protections to children in the school setting.[22]  This Article will address how school interrogations substantially amount to a “custodial interrogation” and how the reasonable child test supports the adoption of a presumptive in-custody approach.

Part IIprovides a case summary of the J.D.B. opinion.  Part III explains the long-standing U.S. Supreme Court jurisprudence that articulates constitutional standards for protecting juveniles from self-incrimination.  The reasonable-person standard determines whether the suspect is in custody for Miranda purposes, and the totality-of-circumstances test considers the immaturity of the child and other relevant factors.[23]  The totality of circumstances in the school setting presumptively amounts to in-custody interrogation for Miranda purposes.[24]  Part IVargues that the totality of circumstances in police-conducted school interrogations uniquely compels the reasonable child to make potentially false statements.  Accordingly, the States’ juvenile Miranda statutes provide the appropriate forum for ensuring that juvenile suspects receive adequate protection when the police interrogate them at school.  Part V reviews Texas and other state statutes and case law that support the adoption of a presumptive in-custody approach.  The following case summary provides context for the relevant issues surrounding school interrogations.


[1].Children often do not sufficiently understand the gravity of their potentially criminal actions, as well as the constitutional rights afforded them under the law.  Trey Meyer, Testing the Validity of Confessions and Waivers of the Self-Incrimination Privilege in the Juvenile Courts, 47 U. Kan. L. Rev. 1037, 1050–51 (1999); see also Meg Penrose, Miranda, Please Report to the Principal’s Office, 33 Fordham Urb. L.J. 775, 785–88 (2006); Stephanie Forbes, Reading, Writing, and Interrogating: Providing Miranda Warnings to Students in Schoolhouse Interrogations, 47 Ct. Rev. 68, 68 (2011); Lee Remington, Note, The Ghost of Columbine and the Miranda Doctrine: Student Interrogations in a School Setting, 41 Brandeis L.J. 373, 373–75 (2002).

[2].384 U.S. 436 (1966).

[3].See Pamela M. Henry-Mays, Farewell Michael C., Hello Gault: Considering the Miranda Rights of Learning Disabled Children, 34 N. Ky. L. Rev. 343, 343–44 (2007) (arguing that adults are sufficiently apprised of their Fifth Amendment protections when Miranda warnings are given,and noting that the U.S. Supreme Court in “In re Gault recognized that children required special consideration when under interrogation because theycould be overwhelmed by the will of an adult”).

[4].See infra notes 36–48 and accompanying text.

[5].See Henry-Mays, supra note 3, at 357(“[J]uveniles have great difficulty foreseeing what waiver of their Miranda rights may mean to them in the future.  When asked about their reasons for waiving their rights, most juveniles were more concerned with their immediate detention or release.”).

[6].Id. at 349–50.

[7].State v. Benoit, 490 A.2d 295, 300 (N.H. 1985) (discussing studies showing the failure of juveniles to fully comprehend the substance and significance of waiving their constitutional rights).

[8].See, e.g., N.M. Stat. Ann. § 32A-2-14 (2010); Conn. Gen. Stat. § 46b-137(c) (Supp. 2012).

[9].Meyer, supra note 1, at 1051.

[10].The lines between school officials’ authority and the local police authority have been blurred in cases where the validity of a child suspect’s confession made to the school administration is challenged.  See State v. Tinkham, 719 A.2d 580, 584 (N.H. 1998) (holding that the principal was not operating as a law enforcement officer or an agent of the police when he obtained a child’s confession regarding possession of marijuana).  States have litigated the issue of agency relationships between the police and school authorities in the context of such school interrogations.  Paul Holland, Schooling Miranda: Policing Interrogation in the Twenty-First Century Schoolhouse, 52 Loy. L. Rev. 39, 61 (2006).  A critical distinction must be made between a school “importing” local police authority versus a law enforcement agency “exporting” local authority to the school.  Id. at 73.  Officers who are hired by the school are generally not required to provide Miranda warnings.  See Peter Price, Comment, When is a Police Officer an Officer of the Law?: The Status of Police Officers in Schools, 99 J. Crim. L. & Criminology 541, 551 (2009); see also Farmer v. State, 275 S.E.2d 774, 776 (1980).

[11].131 S. Ct. 2394 (2011).

[12].Id. at 2405.  The Court considered the issue of age and other psychological factors impacting the child’s mindset to be irrelevant in its precedent case, Yarborough v. Alvarado, 541 U.S. 652 (2004).  In Alvarado, these factors were considered as subjective rather than objective.  Id. at 668.  However, in J.D.B., the Court views its ruling as consistent with Alvarado by stating that age is different because it does not involve a subjective determination about the mindset of the child.  J.D.B., 131 S. Ct. at 2404.

[13].Graham v. Florida, 130 S. Ct. 2011, 2016 (2010).

[14].Id. at 2038 (Roberts, C.J., concurring); see Henry-Mays, supra note 3, at 350 (“Children are different from adults with low intelligence as they lack the worldly experience and the knowledge time will bring.”).

[15].Indeed, even courts have wrestled with the issue of whether police in the school setting are acting in their capacity as police or as “school officials.”  See Remington, supra note 1, at 379–80 (“[C]ourts across the nation have been confused as to which standard applies when police officers, such as on-site school resource officers or officers acting on behalf of school authorities, conduct searches or seizures of students on school grounds.  Courts have had to determine whether police officers are to be considered as ‘school officials’ and therefore allowed to conduct searches and seizures based upon the lesser standard of ‘reasonable suspicion.’”).

[16].See J.D.B., 131 S. Ct. at 2402.  The Court describes two independent questions used to determine whether a suspect is in custody:  “[F]irst, what were the circumstances surrounding the interrogation; and second, given those circumstances, would a reasonable person have felt he or she was at liberty to terminate the interrogation and leave.”  Id.  If “in custody,” the child is entitled to the Miranda warnings, which are pivotal to the child’s protection under the Constitution.  Id.  However, the Court regards the child’s ability to comprehend the warning when given as without merit if the circumstances do not amount to a custodial interrogation.  Id. at 2401.

[17].See, e.g., N.C. Gen. Stat. § 7B-2101 (2011) (requiring that juveniles be Mirandized before questioning when in custody, and prohibiting the use of a confession from a minor under 14 years old unless a guardian or attorney is present).

[18].In Minnesota, a juvenile is afforded the same protections against self-incrimination as an adult.  Minn. R. Juv. Del. P. 5.07 subd. 3. (“At the beginning of the detention hearing, the court shall advise all persons present of: (A) the reasons why the child was taken into custody; (B) the allegations of the charging document; (C) the purpose and scope of the detention hearing; (D) the right of the child to be represented by counsel at the detention hearing and at every other stage of the proceedings, and the right of a child alleged to be delinquent to counsel at public expense; and (E) the right of the child to remain silent.”).  Similarly, a juvenile in Washington is also protected against self-incrimination.  Wash. Rev. Code  § 13.40.140(8) (2004).

[19].For examples of statutes that give constitutional protections to juveniles in custody, see Colo. Rev. Stat. § 19-2-511 (2005); Conn. Gen. Stat. § 46b-137(c) (Supp. 2012); Ga. Code Ann. § 15-11-7 (2012); N.M. Stat. Ann. § 32A-2-14 (2010); N.C. Gen. Stat. § 7B-2101 (2011); Wash. Rev. Code § 13.40.140 (2004).

[20].See Henry-Mays, supra note 3, at 357 (discussing how a child does not anticipate the impact of statements made to the police, or the long-term consequences of a waiver of rights, thereby leading to high rates of false confessions).

[21].J.D.B., 131 S. Ct. at 2401–02; see also Stansbury v. California, 511 U.S. 318, 322–25 (1994) (discussing the inquiry necessary to determine whether an individual is in custody and therefore entitled to Miranda warnings).

[22].See Meyer, supra note 1, at 1048(commenting on the use of a totality of circumstances test by federal courts and state courts to evaluate the admissibility of a custodial statement under the due process standard).

[23].See infra Part III.

[24].See infra Part III–IV.

The Supposed Strength of Hopelessness: The Supreme Court Further Undermines Miranda in Howes v. Fields

By George M. Dery III

Volume 40.1

* Professor, California State University Fullerton, Division of Politics, Administration, and Justice; Former Deputy District Attorney, Los Angeles, California; J.D., 1987, Loyola Law School, Los Angeles, California; B.A., 1983, University of California Los Angeles.

Abstract

This Article analyzes Howes v. Fields, in which the Supreme Court ruled that imprisonment alone was not enough to constitute Miranda custody.  Fields provided three grounds to distinguish prisoners from mere suspects: (1) inmates serving in prison did not suffer the shock that often accompanied arrest, (2) prisoners were unlikely to be lured into speaking by any longing for a prompt release, and (3) inmates were aware that police probably lacked the authority to shorten their current prison term.  This article asserts that these rationales create their own concerns.  Fields’s consideration of the shock of arrest opened Miranda up to subjective inquiries about inmates’ emotional states, a subject prohibited as beyond Miranda’s objective analysis.  By arguing that inmates were stronger for understanding that prompt release was beyond their hopes, Fields turned Miranda on its head by deeming hopelessness an asset.  Finally, focusing on law enforcement’s power to shorten the sentence that a prisoner was currently serving blinded the Court to an inmate’s broader liberty interests.  This article also aims to analyze the potential impact that possible confusion about these issues might have on police and courts.

Introduction

Few would willingly choose to undergo the ordeal of custodial interrogation, a situation so dire that the Court itself has deemed it “destructive of human dignity.”[1]  Police have designed custodial interrogation to create an atmosphere of police domination where a person, held incommunicado, will be less “keenly aware of his rights.”[2]  However awful, most would choose this fate over the prospect of serving time behind bars, an environment so hostile that it is fraught with potential violence.[3]  The Supreme Court, on the other hand, has decided that prison life is not so bad. It has even determined that release back into the general prison population can offer a “break” from custodial interrogation.[4]  Now, in Howes v. Fields, the Court has explicitly determined that “imprisonment, without more, is not enough to constitute Miranda custody.”[5]

To support this conclusion, Fields offered “three strong grounds” which aimed to distinguish prisoners from suspects undergoing custodial interrogation.[6]  Fields asserted that inmates serving in prison did not suffer the shock that often accompanied arrest, were unlikely to be lured into speaking by a “longing for prompt release,” and were aware that the police probably lacked the authority to shorten their current prison term.[7]  The Court believed these three grounds explained a prisoner’s superior position to that of a mere suspect speaking to police.[8]  Yet Fields’s rationales create their own concerns.  Fields’s consideration of the shock of arrest could open Miranda up to subjective inquiries about inmates’ emotional states, a subject the Court has previously prohibited as beyond Miranda’s objective analysis.[9]  By urging that inmates were stronger for understanding that prompt release was beyond their hopes,[10]  Fields turned Miranda on its head by deeming hopelessness an asset.[11]  Moreover, focusing on law enforcement’s power to shorten the sentence a prisoner was currently serving blinkered the Court’s view of an inmate’s other liberty interests.[12]  Finally, in an attempt to counter a contention advanced by the Court of Appeals that questioning prisoners in private might implicate Miranda, Fields painted a stark picture of the physical dangers involved in prison life.[13]  The Court’s unflinching assessment of the atmosphere created by those who reside in prison undermined its own conclusions in previous case law.[14]

In Part II, this Article reviews the evolving definition of Miranda custody to establish background for further analysis. Part III critically examines Fields’s ruling and reasoning, while Part IV considers the implications of this case on Miranda doctrine.


[1].Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436, 457 (1966).  Miranda sought to preserve a person’s Fifth Amendment rights while he or she was being subjected to custodial interrogation.  The Fifth Amendment provides in part: “No person shall . . . be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself . . . .”  U.S. Const. amend. V.

[2].Miranda, 384 U.S. at 445, 449.

[3].Howes v. Fields, 132 S. Ct. 1181, 1191–92 (2012).

[4].See infra notes 112–19 and accompanying text.  In Maryland v. Shatzer, the Court opined, “[W]e think lawful imprisonment imposed upon conviction of a crime does not create the coercive pressures identified in Miranda.”  Maryland v. Shatzer, 130 S. Ct. 1213, 1224 (2010).  The Court concluded, “The ‘inherently compelling pressures’ of custodial interrogation ended when [the suspect] returned to his normal life.”  Id. at 1225.

[5].Fields, 132 S. Ct. at 1191.

[6].Id.

[7].Id.

[8].Id.

[9].Id.

[10].Id.

[11].See infra Part IV.B; see also Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436, 467 (1966) (“[W]ithout proper safeguards the process of in-custody interrogation of persons suspected or accused of crime contains inherently compelling pressures which work to undermine the individual’s will to resist and to compel him to speak where he would not otherwise do so freely.”).

[12].Fields, 132 S. Ct. at 1191.

[13].Id. at 1191–92.

[14].See infra Part IV.A–B; Maryland v. Shatzer, 130 S. Ct. 1213, 1224 (2010) (“Interrogated suspects who have previously been convicted of crime live in prison.  When they are released back into the general prison population, they return to their accustomed surroundings and daily routine—they regain the degree of control they had over their lives prior to the interrogation.  Sentenced prisoners, in contrast to the Miranda paradigm, are not isolated with their accusers.  They live among other inmates, guards, and workers, and often can receive visitors and communicate with people on the outside by mail or telephone.”).

“Ag-Gag” Legislation and Public Choice Theory: Maintaining a Diffuse Public by Limiting Information

By Jessica Pitts*

Volume 40.1

*The University of Texas School of Law, J.D. expected 2013; B.A., University of Colorado, 2010.  I would like to thank my brother for inspiring me to be a voice for animals, and my husband for his unwavering support.

I.  Introduction

Rolling hills, meandering blue streams, fresh air and sunlight.[1]  A quick death that minimizes pain.[2]  Wholesome and nutritious food for our families.[3]  Although these are the pictures many Americans imagine about meat and where it comes from, it could not be further from the truth.  This misinformed belief is perpetuated by the companies that sell meat products, by state legislatures aiming to criminalize the distribution of information about conditions on factory farms,[4] and by the federal government, which labels the collection and dissemination of this information as “terrorism.”[5]  Part II of this note examines existing and proposed “Ag-Gag” legislation: laws prohibiting the acquisition and, more often, the distribution of information about factory farms.  Part III discusses this legislation through the lens of Public Choice Theory, concluding that such legislation is an industry-supported effort to maintain the status quo and that limiting information serves only to intensify the public choice problem by inhibiting people’s ability to make informed choices as both consumers and voters.


[1].For example, see California’s “Happy Cows” campaign, depicting pastoral landscapes and small family-farming operations.  Happy Cows TV, Real California Milk,, http://www.realcaliforniamilk.com/advertising/happy-cows-spots/ (last visited Sept. 22, 2012).  In People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, Inc. v. Cal. Milk Producers Advisory Bd., PETA sued the Board claiming its “Happy Cows” advertising campaign was false and deceptive.  22 Cal. Rptr. 3d 900, 901 (Cal. Ct. App. 2005).  The court dismissed the case because the Board is a government entity not subject to California’s Unfair Business Practices Act, but the court left open whether a different result might have been reached had the campaign come from a private company instead of a governmental entity.  Id. at 905–08.

[2].Despite people’s expectation that animal husbandry practices in raising and slaughtering livestock are humane, standard practices are often not humane.  See, e.g., N.J. Soc’y for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals v. N.J. Dep’t of Agric., 955 A.2d 886 (N.J. 2008) (holding that the Department of Agriculture failed in its obligation to enact regulations to ensure the “humane” treatment of animals when it allowed for a “routine husbandry practices” exception, when routine animal husbandry practices such as tail docking are inhumane).  See Jones v. Butz, 374 F. Supp. 1284, 1285–86, 1289–92 (S.D.N.Y. 1974), for a description of slaughtering techniques comparing Kosher and traditional slaughter methods.

[3].The nutritional benefit of meat is controversial.  See, e.g., Physicians Comm. for Responsible Med. v. Tyson Foods, Inc., 13 Cal. Rptr. 3d 926, 928 (Cal. Ct. App. 2004) (arguing that Tyson’s advertising campaigns representing that its chicken is “heart healthy” and “all-natural” were false and deceptive because “‘the majority of Tyson chicken products contain substantial levels of fat and cholesterol, the consumption of which will not only fail to reduce the risk of heart disease, but is actually likely to increase such risk.’”).  Indeed, consumption of meat can cause serious illness and even death. See, e.g., Multistate Outbreak of E. coli O157:H7,Centers For Disease Control and Prevention (Jan. 6 2012), http://www.cdc.gov/ecoli/2010/0105.html (describing a multistate outbreak of E. coli resulting in nine hospitalizations); Multistate Outbreak of Human Salmonella Typhimurium Infections Linked to Ground Beef, Centers For Disease Control and Prevention (Feb. 1, 2012), http://www.cdc.gov/salmonella/typhimurium-groundbeef/020112/index.html (describing a seven-state salmonella outbreak); see also Rep. Eshoo’s introduction of the Meat and Poultry Pathogen Reduction and Enforcement Act (“Kevin’s Law”), 2005 Cong U.S. HR 3160, describing how “Kevin’s Law is named in memory of 2 1/2 -year-old Kevin Kowalcyk, who died so tragically in 2001 after eating a hamburger contaminated with E. coli O157:H7.  Kevin’s untimely death was agonizing and brutal.  No child, no person should experience the pain that Kevin did, and no family should have to bear witness to a loved one suffering in the way that Kevin did.”  Eshoo Introduces ‘Kevin’s Law’, Congresswoman Anna G. Eshoo (June 30, 2005), http://eshoo.house.gov/index.php?option=comcontent&task=view& id=104.

[4].See, e.g., Kan. Stat. Ann. § 47-1827 (West 2011); N.D. Cent. Code ann. § 12.1-21.1-02 (West 2011); Mont. Code Ann. § 81-30-103 (West 2011); Iowa Code Ann. § 717A.3A (West 2012); Utah Code Ann. § 76-6-112 (West 2012).

[5].Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act, 18 U.S.C. § 43 (2006).

Trashing Our System of Justice? Overturning Jury Verdicts Where Evidence is Found in The Computer’s Cache

By J. Elizabeth McBath*

Volume 39.3

* Assistant United States Attorney in the Northern District of Georgia.  J.D., magna cum laude, Indiana University School of Law – Bloomington; M.A., Political Science, Indiana University; B.A., cum laude, Furman University.  The views expressed in this article are neither the views of the United States Department of Justice nor the views of the United States Attorney in the Northern District of Georgia.  The views should be attributed solely to the author.

INTRODUCTION

Jury verdicts are being overturned by some courts of appeals based on the courts’ analysis of a crime that the defendant was not charged with or convicted of, and based on “evidence” that the jury did not consider.  Specifically, juries are convicting defendants for possessing or receiving child pornography on their computer screens, but courts of appeals are overturning the convictions by analyzing whether the defendant possessed or received a copy of the image found in the defendant’s computer’s “trash,” thus disregarding the image that resided on the screen.

It is unclear why this is happening, but two likely scenarios exist.  First, it is possible that some courts of appeals do not understand the computer technology evidence presented in these cases.  Approximately seven years ago, Ty E. Howard first recognized that, because images displayed on a computer screen are simultaneously captured in another area of the computer’s hard drive, courts that do not understand computer technology are vulnerable to making incorrect findings by basing their analysis on the copy found in a separate area of the hard drive—the “trash”—instead of on the image that once appeared on the computer screen.[1]  As Howard prophesized back then: “While gaps in understanding may not have resulted in errors of law as of yet, the threat exists.”[2]

This article takes Howard’s initial theory and examines how it has played out since originally written by providing a thorough examination of all child pornography cases involving images on the defendant’s computer that have been decided since its publication.  This analysis uncovers that Howard’s identified threat has now become a reality.

This article then takes Howard’s initial proposition a step further, and asks whether, instead of misunderstanding technology, it is possible that judges are using technology as a loophole to overturn convictions with which those judges do not agree.

From there, this article examines the various harms that may result from the appeals courts’ behavior, including harms within the judiciary itself, between the three branches of government, and between the government and its citizenry.

This article concludes with suggestions on where we should go from here, including a proposal to establish a nationwide database allowing judges to publicly register their discontent with the law without having to engage in covert nullification.

Before addressing these bigger questions, however, this article starts by explaining the offenses of possessing and receiving child pornography, and explaining the unique evidence in prosecutions where child pornography is not saved to the computer’s hard drive, but where the images are instead found in the computer’s cyber trashcan.


[1].Ty E. Howard, Don’t Cache Out Your Case: Prosecuting Child Pornography Possession Laws Based on Images Located in Temporary Internet Files, 19 Berkeley Tech L.J. 1227, 1253, 1272 (2004).

[2].Id. at 1272.

Predators and Propensity: The Proper Approach for Determining The Admissibility of Prior Bad Acts Evidence in Child Sexual Abuse Prosecutions

By Basyle J. Tchividjian*

Volume 39.3

* Professor Tchividjian is a former child abuse prosecutor from Florida who currently teaches Child Abuse and the Law and several other criminal law related courses at Liberty University School of Law.  Professor Tchividjian also serves as Executive Director of GRACE (Godly Response to Abuse in the Christian Environment), www.netgrace.org.  The author thanks Jeremy Lemon and Stephanie Weiss for their invaluable research, feedback, and edits to this Article.

Introduction

On March 1, 2011, fourteen-year-old Kelly Peters told her father that Christopher Smith had repeatedly sexually abused her.[1]

Kelly Peters and her family have been good friends with the Smith family for approximately ten years.  The families often vacationed together and visited each other’s homes for cook-outs and other social occasions. The Smiths have one child named Sabrina, who has become Kelly’s best friend.  Kelly’s mother tragically died in 2010 after a long battle with cancer.  During those difficult days, Kelly frequently stayed with the Smith family when her mother was away seeking medical treatment.  Oftentimes during those visits, Christopher Smith was the only adult home with Kelly and Sabrina.

Kelly Peters alleges that during the past two years, Christopher Smith sexually abused her on four to five occasions. She remembers that the abuse began during her visits with the Smiths towards the end of her mother’s life.  Kelly recalls that the abuse always occurred when she and Mr. Smith were alone in his vehicle.  On the first occasion, Chris Smith unzipped his pants, took out his penis, and told Kelly to touch it.  Confused, but very trusting of Mr. Smith, Kelly complied with his request.  After that incident, every time Mr. Smith was alone with Kelly in the car, he made her touch his penis.  The last time this occurred, Kelly attempted to push Mr. Smith away but without success.  Christopher Smith immediately looked at Kelly and stated: “This is our little secret, if you tell anyone you will never be able to see Sabrina again.”  About two weeks later, Kelly Peters was finally able to disclose the abuse to her father.  Mr. Peters immediately reported Mr. Smith to the local police department and a subsequent prosecution ensued.

While investigating these crimes, the prosecutor has learned that other children have alleged that Christopher Smith sexually abused them.  Though none of these prior allegations resulted in formal charges, the prosecutor wants to introduce them as “prior bad act evidence” in the trial against Christopher Smith.

Collateral Abuse Evidence

1. Brian Smith—Brian Smith is the twenty-four-year-old nephew of Christopher Smith.  His uncontroverted testimony is that when he was a child, Brian’s family lived next door to his uncle.  Because they lived next door and were family, Brian’s parents often asked Chris to watch Brian when they would travel out of town.  Brian alleges that when he was between nine and twelve years old, Christopher Smith sexually abused him on numerous occasions while he was staying at his uncle’s house.  The abuse primarily consisted of Christopher Smith ordering Brian into the spare bedroom where he touched Brian’s penis with his hands.  Brian does remember that after each episode of abuse, Christopher Smith threatened him about not seeing his parents again if he told anyone about their “little secret”.  When Brian was 14 years old, he finally disclosed this abuse to his mother who promptly reported the matter to law enforcement.  A few weeks later, Brian’s family was informed that the prosecutor was not going to file charges against Christopher Smith due to “lack of evidence.”

2. Tommy Rickles—Tommy is a forty-five-year-old man whose uncontroverted testimony is that when he was eleven years of age, he attended a summer middle school youth camp.  At camp, all of the boys slept in a large dormitory-style room.  On the last night of camp, Tommy woke up and found a stranger kneeling by his bed touching his [Tommy’s] penis underneath his pajamas.  Tommy immediately screamed causing the stranger to turn around and escape through one of the dorm windows.  The perpetrator was later identified as a seventeen-year-old camp cook named Christopher Smith.  Criminal charges were never brought against Chris Smith due to Tommy being emotionally incapable to testify.  After years of therapy, Tommy is now fully prepared to testify about what happened that evening at summer youth camp.

3. Susanna Phillips—Susanna Phillips is a seventeen-year-old girl whose uncontroverted testimony alleges that Christopher Smith sexually abused her when she was approximately five years old.  Susanna’s mother had met Mr. Smith through a mutual friend and they became acquaintances.  Shortly thereafter, Christopher Smith informed Susanna’s mother that he was having problems in his marriage and asked to sleep at her apartment for a couple of weeks.  Susanna’s mother agreed to this arrangement as long as Mr. Smith agreed to pay rent and furnish his own food.  During this time, Chris stayed in Susanna’s room while she slept on the living room couch.  Susanna remembers one occasion when she was awoken during the middle of the night to discover that she was in her own bed, and Chris Smith was touching her privates with his hands.  Shortly thereafter, Mr. Smith carried her back to the living room couch and went back to bed.

The testimonies provided by Brian Smith, Tommy Rickles, and Susanna Phillips are undoubtedly helpful to the prosecution in its case against Christopher Smith.  All three demonstrate that the defendant has allegedly sexually victimized children in the past, thus strengthening the claim made by Kelly Peters.  However, “probative value,” not whether the evidence is “helpful,” is the legal standard in determining the admissibility of relevant prior bad acts.  Are any of the proposed testimonies relevant?  If so, are they probative?  Whose testimony is more probative?  Why?  Is there a particular standard and analysis the court can use in deciding whether the jury should hear any of the three proposed testimonies?  How does a court determine the admissibility of relevant evidence that is extraneous to the facts of the underlying child sexual abuse case, which will undoubtedly be prejudicial against the defendant?

Relevant prior bad act evidence can be admissible in child sexual abuse prosecutions if it is probative of the evidentiary basis for which it is being offered.[2]  In recent years, “propensity” has been adopted by many jurisdictions as the fundamental basis for admitting collateral acts evidence in child sexual abuse prosecutions.[3]  The manner in which propensity is defined and determined can significantly impact whether such evidence is relevant.  Furthermore, relevant prior bad act evidence is not admissible if its probative value is substantially outweighed by the prejudicial impact it will have upon the jury.[4]  The methodology used to implement this particular balancing analysis can greatly affect its outcome, and thus the admissibility of otherwise relevant collateral act evidence.

Since the early part of the 20th century, legislative bodies and the courts have attempted to develop workable standards and methods of analysis in which to evaluate the admissibility of prior bad act evidence in cases related to child sexual abuse.  Unfortunately, these standards and methods fall short of their intended purpose.  Not only do they promote inconsistencies in application and results, but more importantly, they do not possess a logical relationship to one’s propensity to sexually victimize children.  Without such a relationship, it is virtually impossible to determine the probative value of relevant evidence being offered to establish propensity.

A study concluded in 2001 found that pedophiles average approximately 11.7 separate child victims, with over 70.8 separate acts of molestation.[5]  This tragic data means that the availability of prior bad acts evidence is significant in many child sexual abuse prosecutions.  However, availability does not necessarily equate to admissibility.  Thus, all the more reason to ensure that such critical evidence is carefully and systematically evaluated in an approach that is fair and consistent with its use and purpose.  Such an approach will be the focus of this article.

Section II of this Article examines the history of prior bad act evidence in child sexual abuse cases, and how it has evolved from being admissible for limited purposes, to the more modern trend of propensity evidence.  Section III scrutinizes and critiques the current methodology used to evaluate the probative value of relevant propensity evidence.  Section IV analyzes the work of researchers and psychologists in describing the characteristics and behavioral patterns that are consistent among those who sexually victimize children.  Section IV then utilizes these behavioral patterns to develop particular factors courts should consider when determining the probative value of propensity evidence.  Section V proposes a new rule that incorporates these new factors into the court’s analysis when evaluating prior sexual misconduct propensity evidence under Rule 403.  Finally, Section V applies this proposal to the Christopher Smith case study to demonstrate its relevant and unique applicability to cases involving the sexual victimization of children.


[1].This case study is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.  This case study is copyrighted © 2011 by Basyle J. Tchividjian.  All rights reserved.  No part of this Article may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the author.

[2].See Fed. R. Evid. 401, 402; see also Rademacher v. Berghuis, No. 1:08-cv-871, 2011 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 114484, at *43 (W.D. Mich. Aug. 11, 2011) (“[E]vidence must be relevant to an issue or fact of consequence at trial.”).

[3].See Fed. R. Evid. 414.

[4].See Fed. R. Evid. 403.

[5].Gene G. Abel & Nora Harlow, The Abel and Harlow Child Molestation Prevention Study, in The Stop Child Molestation Book (2001), available at http://www.childmolestationprevention.org/pdfs/study.pdf.  The study distinguished between pedophiles as defined by the DSM-IV and those who molest children that do not fall under the clinical definition of pedophile.  Id.  The study found that non-pedophile child molesters molest on average 2.9 children and commit an average of 6.5 acts of molestation.  Id.

Parsing the Reasonable Person: The Case of Self-Defense

By Andrew Ingram*

Volume 39.3

*The University of Texas School of Law, J.D. expected 2013; also a Ph.D. student in the Department of Philosophy; A.B., 2009, Brown University. I would like to thank Professor Larry Laudan for the enlightening seminar that produced this Note. I am grateful as well to the editors and staff of the American Journal of Criminal Law for their hard work in editing this piece.

Introduction

Mistakes are a fact of life, and the criminal law is sadly no exception to the rule.  Wrongful convictions are rightfully abhorred, and false acquittals can likewise inspire outrage.  In these cases, we implicitly draw a distinction between a court’s finding and a defendant’s actual guilt or innocence.  These are intuitive concepts, but as this Note aims to show, contemporary use of the reasonable person standard in the law of self-defense muddles them.

The point I aim to make in this Note is subtle, and because it is subtle, I must be careful with the terms I deploy.  What is of concern here is not that disagreement which sometimes occurs between the verdicts of morality and the verdicts of our legal system.  Rather, it is a disagreement between the facts and the decisions of our criminal tribunals.  The law here is the measuring stick by which conduct is judged, and a court may err in applying it in a way demonstrable by an independent observer deploying the same metric.  For example, the court says a person found dead was murdered, but an independent party can prove the court wrong, either by showing that the court’s version of the facts is incorrect (the person died of a heart attack) or that the court has incorrectly applied the legal standard to the facts (mens rea was absent).  The technical terms introduced below furnish a vocabulary for discussing such cases of error.

I will use the terms juridical guilt and juridical innocence to refer to the decisions of tribunals and the words material guilt and material innocence to refer to the actual match, or lack thereof, between law and fact.  A person is juridically guilty if they have been found guilty by the relevant tribunals.  Thus, in American law, someone is juridically guilty of a crime if he has been convicted by a jury, a judge has not chosen to set aside the verdict, and the conviction has been sustained if appealed.  On the other hand, material guilt requires having actually committed the crime in question.  For example, a person is materially guilty of common law burglary if and only if he actually broke into and entered a dwelling at night with the intent to commit a felony.[1]

Analogously, juridical innocence means being found not to have committed a crime or having been tried and acquitted by the relevant tribunals.[2]  In the American context, juridical innocence corresponds to being acquitted by a jury or fact-based dismissals with prejudice by a judge.[3]  In contrast, a person is materially innocent if and only if she did not, in fact, commit the specified crime.  As such, a person is materially innocent of cocaine possession if, instead of cocaine, the substance the police found on her person was actually baking powder.  Notice, however, that material innocence need not be confined to cases where the defendant is manifestly innocent or has a true alibi.  On the contrary, material innocence and guilt track the elements of the crime so that a person who breaks into a dwelling intending to cart away a television is nonetheless materially innocent of common law burglary so long as he did so during the daytime.[4]

Defenses can be treated in the same manner.  A person is juridically guilty if a tribunal rejects his defense and juridically innocent if the tribunal accepts it.[5]  A person is materially innocent if she does in fact satisfy the elements of the defense.  She is materially guilty—with respect to a defense—if she fails in actuality to satisfy all the elements of the defense (though she may yet be materially innocent of the underlying crime).[6]

The Problem

I contend that these categories become confused in the context of criminal self-defense.  The source of this confusion is the reasonable person standard specified in the elements of the defense.  Invocation of the reasonable person—and references to reasonableness more generally—are ubiquitous in common law systems on both the criminal and civil sides of the docket.  Besides the criminal standards for self-defense[7] and provocation,[8] the reasonable person crops up everywhere from civil rights law[9] to contract law.[10]  Not to mention that modern courts could hardly try a tort case without it.[11]  Yet despite her ubiquity, the reasonable person has been notoriously difficult to define.[12]  This element is sometimes the sole issue in a trial, but courts’ explications of “reasonableness,” “ordinary care,” or the “reasonable person” are typically vague or quasi-circular.[13]  In the absence of a clear definition, the question of what the reasonable person would or would not have done threatens to collapse into a question of what the judge or jury will say the reasonable person would have done.[14]  If that happens in the criminal law context, what then is left of the distinction between material guilt and innocence and juridical guilt and innocence?

Before we consider the complications present in self-defense, we should take at a closer look at how the division between juridical and material guilt ordinarily functions.  Consider the elements of murder.  In Texas, it is sufficient to show that the defendant (1) intentionally (2) caused the death of an individual.[15]  Here, it is easy to distinguish between material guilt and juridical guilt.  A person is juridicially guilty of murder if he is convicted by a jury of murder, and someone is materially guilty if she did in fact cause the death of a person and acted with the conscious object to kill a person.  There are two important facts here, one physical and the other psychological.  Both facts are independent of the court’s decision.[16]  Whether or not a court decides that the defendant committed the crime, his material guilt or innocence does not vary.


[1].Taylor v. United States, 495 U.S. 575, 580 n.3 (1990) (defining common-law burglary as “‘the breaking and entering of the dwelling house of another in the nighttime with the intent to commit a felony.’” (quoting W. LaFave & A. Scott, Substantive Criminal Law § 8.13 (1986))).

[2].I define juridical innocence disjunctively in order to accommodate the fact that a not-guilty verdict is not equivalent to a finding of innocence.  See infra note 3.

[3].Defining juridical innocence in the American context is complicated by the bivalent character of jury verdicts and the stringent burden of proof required for a guilty verdict.  See Larry Laudan, Need Verdicts Come in Pairs?, 14 Int’l J. Evidence & Proof 1, 2–3 (2010) (elucidating the import of a not-guilty verdict under such systems).  Given the rigor of the reasonable doubt standard and the fact that jurors must choose between a finding of guilty and one of not-guilty (there is no “innocent” verdict), a not-guilty verdict should not be conflated with a finding of innocence.  See id. (emphasizing that an acquittal only signifies that the evidence against the defendant fails to satisfy the standard of proof, not that the defendant is innocent of the crime charged).  Nonetheless, to keep the terminology simple, I refer to a jury’s not-guilty verdict as a finding of juridical innocence.

[4].Thus, however blameworthy the thief’s conduct may have been, he is per the common-law definition of burglary, materially innocent of burglary.  Indeed, he may be found guilty by a jury and the verdict sustained at all levels of the legal process, making him juridically guilty, and yet he is, technically speaking, materially innocent.

[5].Complications arise when a tribunal rejects a claimed defense yet still acquits a defendant on other grounds.  What are we to say about such a defendant; is he juridically guilty or juridically innocent?  Though it requires an awkward turn of phrase, I think the greatest clarity can be achieved if we say that a person whose defense is rejected is juridically guilty (with respect to the defense) even if she is ultimately acquitted.

[6].Compare with note 5 supra.

[7].E.g., State v. Stewart, 763 P.2d 572, 579 (Kan. 1988).

[8].E.g., Crawford v. State, 704 S.E.2d 772, 776 (Ga. 2011).

[9].See Mayo Moran, The Reasonable Person: A Conceptual Biography in Comparative Perspective, 14 Lewis & Clark L. Rev. 1233, 1259–60 (2010) (commenting on the reasonable person in the law of workplace sexual harassment).

[10].E.g., Akassy v. William Penn Apartments P’ship, 891 A.2d 291, 299 (D.C. 2006).

[11].See Restatement (Second) of Torts § 283 (1965) (identifying the standard of conduct in negligence cases as the behavior of the reasonable man under like circumstances); Ronald K.L. Collins, Language, History and the Legal Process: A Profile of the “Reasonable Man,8 Rutgers-Cam L.J. 311, 313 (1977) (attributing “the lion’s share of the case law” in torts to the reasonable man).

[12].See infra notes 28–36 and accompanying text.

[13].See, e.g.,Patrick J. Kelley & Laurel A. Wendt, What Judges Tell Juries About Negligence: A Review of Pattern Jury Instructions,77 Chi.-Kent L. Rev. 587, 600 (2002) (“A person is negligent when (he) (she) fails to exercise ordinary care. Ordinary care is the care which a reasonable person would use in similar circumstances.”) (quoting Wis. Jury Instructions-Civ. 1005 (2002)); cf. Edward C. Lyons, Reason’s Freedom and the Dialectic of Ordered Liberty, 55 Clev. St. L. Rev. 157, 203 (2007) (“[J]ury instructions dealing with a negligence cause of action have generally been articulated in the vaguest manner . . . .”).

[14].See infra notes 40–49 and accompanying text.

[15].Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 19.02(b)(2) (West 2011).

[16].I deliberately use the phrase “independent of the court’s judgment” rather than the phrase “non-legal fact” because I do not think that all of the former facts are embraced by the latter category.  There are two types of facts we can think of as being independent of a court’s judgment.  The first type is completely independent of any legal standard, for example, the fact that a substance alleged to be bootleg liquor is actually an ethanol solution.  The second type implicates what common law lawyers are prone to call “mixed questions of law and fact.”  These are not necessarily non-legal facts but are facts independent of the court’s judgment.  Whether or not someone has committed larceny is a prime example because it depends on questions of property ownership.  See Tex. Penal Code Ann. § 31.03(a) (proscribing appropriating property only if one intends to take it from its owner).   Insofar as property is purely a creature of law, deciding whether or not someone owns something requires applying a legal standard. While there are interesting conceptual problems posed by mixed questions, I think the reasonable person question embodies a different problem.  Whereas in a theft case, it is possible to use the legal standard to identify facts sufficient to establish property ownership apart from a court’s judgment, my argument is that the same cannot be said of the reasonable person standard.  The trouble with the reasonable person standard is not that one must first ascertain the legal standard and then apply it to the facts, but that it is not clear what facts the legal standard demands be satisfied.  As such, a court’s decision about the reasonable person becomes the sole criterion.  Unless one is a dogged legal realist, the same cannot be said about property and the standard for larceny.  For an example of the legal realism I have in mind, seeOliver Wendell Holmes, The Path of the Law, 10 Harv. L. Rev. 457, 460–61 (1897) (“The prophecies of what the courts will do in fact, and nothing more pretentious, are what I mean by the law.”).

Dormant Data: Why and How to Make Good Use of Deaths in Custody Reporting

By Matt Lloyd*

Volume 39.2

*  J.D. Candidate, The University of Texas School of Law, 2012; B.S. 2009, Kansas State University. I would like to thank Professor Michele Deitch for her guidance in developing this Note and the editorial staff at the American Journal of Criminal Law for all their patience and hard work. I would also like to thank my wife Kelly for her constant support and for being one of the greatest people I know.

Introduction

From 2001 to 2006, roughly 3,000 individuals died each year while in the custody of state prison facilities across the United States. Another 1,000 died in locally run jails.  Many of these roughly 4,000 annual deaths are inevitable, but many are also preventable.  The latter category (i.e., preventable deaths) should never be viewed as an acceptable statistic.  The United States federal and state governments are, through their own criminal justice policies, responsible for who gets placed in custody and for how long.  They are also ultimately responsible for the conditions of such confinement.  Consequently, governments are obliged to meet the needs of individuals they place behind bars, and preventable deaths represent a categorical failure to meet that obligation.

Although courts have explicitly recognized this burden, they have promulgated a counterproductive standard for enforcing it.  By requiring a subjective showing of “deliberate indifference” to the plight of prisoners on the part of officials, courts have encouraged prison and jail officials to be ignorant of any systemic issues that have not become catastrophic.  There is no single solution to this conundrum, but significant progress can be made with a relatively simple step.  Deaths in custody (“DIC”) information can be used to encourage transparency and accountability in a system that currently lacks it.  This is information that we already have, and it can be used to assess and address major problems (on the national, state, and local scale) before they become catastrophic.  If DIC data is analyzed and findings are submitted to the relevant officials, willful ignorance becomes much less viable as a defense.  But more importantly than that, using DIC data in this way espouses a more constructive criminal justice policy—that justice officials should look towards affirmatively meeting their obligation to care for those in its custody, rather than doing just enough to avoid civil liability to inmates.

In Part II of this Note, I begin by discussing the current “deliberate indifference” standard that governs whether detainees’ conditions of confinement constitute cruel and unusual punishment.  This discussion will include the United States Supreme Court’s reasoning behind the standard, as well as the problems that having such a standard create.  Next, in Part III, I examine the current requirements governing the reporting of deaths in custody at both the federal and state levels.  In Part IV, I discuss realistic options concerning how DIC data may be used to have an immediate positive impact on our federal and state detention facilities, and how this impact may undo much of the danger associated with the United States Supreme Court’s “deliberate indifference” standard. Finally, I provide a few illustrations using currently existing DIC data in Part V. 

The Decision Zone: The New Stage of Interrogation Created by Berghuis v. Thompkins

By Meghan Morris*

Volume 39.2

* J.D., 2011, New York University School of Law; B.A., 2008, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.  Many thanks to Professor Erin Murphy for her invaluable suggestions and critiques in the drafting process.  I am also deeply grateful to Laura Arandes for her encouragement and advice.  For my continuing education in the practice of criminal law and procedure, I am indebted to my friends and colleagues at the Colorado State Public Defender. I have also benefited greatly over the past couple of years from the guidance and advice of Cassy Stubbs, Betsy Tao, Bryan Stevenson, Randy Susskind, and Anthony Amsterdam. Finally, thanks are due to Scott Spillman and to my family for their unwavering support.

Abstract

This Article addresses a new stage of interrogation, approved of for the first time in the Supreme Court’s 2010 decision, Berghuis v. Thompkins. This stage—the “decision zone”—is the period, however brief or prolonged, after officers have read a suspect his rights but before the suspect has decided whether to waive or to invoke those rights.  In Thompkins, the Supreme Court allowed interrogation during this stage, which lasted almost three hours in that case.  In Thompkins, the Supreme Court implicitly assented to prolonged interrogation before a suspect decides whether to invoke or to waive his rights, thus creating the decision zone.

This Article argues that existing precedents regarding trickery in interrogations address police behaviors only before a suspect is read his rights or after he has waived his rights and agreed to talk to police.  These precedents do not directly address trickery in the decision zone.  Such precedents are, in fact, overbroad when applied to interrogation in the decision zone because this interim period is the crucial time in which a suspect is deciding whether or not to waive his rights.  Courts must look at the constitutionality of police trickery during this period as a new question not controlled by existing precedents.

Under Maryland v. Seibert, police officers may not intentionally undermine the effectiveness of Miranda warnings.  This Article argues thattrickery in the decision zone may be barred by Seibert and other precedents in certain instances.  This Article proposes a two-factor test for deciding when trickery in the decision zone should be found unconstitutional.  First, a court must ask whether a given police practice has the intent and effect of undermining Miranda warnings.  Second, the court must ask whether the police practice has a tendency to produce false confessions.  These factors, rather than existing precedents regarding trickery in interrogations, should control the new constitutional inquiry into police behavior within the decision zone.

One-Book, Two Sentences: Ex Post Facto Considerations of the One-Book Rule After United States v. Kumar

By Andrew C. Adams*

Volume 39.2

* J.D. 2008, University of Michigan Law School; B.A. 2004, University of Texas at Austin.  Associate at Debevoise & Plimpton LLP and a member of the firm’s litigation department.  The views expressed herein are those of the author and do not express those of Debevoise & Plimpton LLP.  Sincere thanks to Morgan Adams, Derek Ettinger, Sean Hecker, Benedict Schweigert, Leigh Wasserstrom, and the editors at the American Journal of Criminal Law for their thorough and thoughtful comments on earlier drafts of this article.

Abstract

This article addresses the ongoing discord among the federal courts of appeals with respect to the implications of the U.S. Sentencing Guidelines’ “one-book rule” and its constitutionality under the Ex Post Facto Clause.  A recent decision by the Second Circuit, United States v. Kumar, produced the most extreme position in a three-way split among the circuits by holding that the application of a single Guidelines manual to multiple offenses—even offenses predating that manual’s publication—is always permissible under the Ex Post Facto Clause.  The issue brings together two separate and difficult areas of jurisprudence applying the Ex Post Facto Clause: the permissibility of allowing one crime to “trigger” heightened punishments for previous crimes and the ongoing circuit split over the application of the Ex Post Facto Clause to the Sentencing Guidelines. This Article explores the history of the application of the Ex Post Facto Clause in order to establish that, contrary to the assertions of courts and commentators, the single concern of the Ex Post Facto Clause has been putting people on notice of the consequences of their actions.  The Article then argues that Kumar, though an outlier amongst the circuits, was indeed correct in its constitutional analysis of the one-book rule.  Nevertheless, the same constitutional concepts at work in Kumar ultimately imply that the one-book rule runs counter to the goals of the Sentencing Guidelines themselves—uniformity of sentencing—even if its application is ultimately constitutional.  The Article concludes by advancing two potential resolutions to the problems left unresolved by Kumar, the courts of appeals, and the Sentencing Guidelines themselves.