Criminal Justice

  • November 16, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Noah Zatz, Professor of Law, UCLA School of Law

    *This post is part of ACSblog’s Symposium on Labor and Economic Inequality.

    Three vibrant movements of our time are Black Lives Matter, theDREAMers, and Fight for $15. For many progressives, only the last may seem directed at our topic of work and inequality. That intuition is wrong. Legalized state violence – incarceration, deportation, even killing – can and does depress labor standards and enable workplace exploitation (and vice versa).

    We too often separate struggles against racialized state violence from those challenging economic inequality. The former seem to be about the public exercises of government power, while the latter seem to be about private exercises of corporate power. This is both an analytical error and a missed political opportunity.

    Think of criminal justice, immigration, and labor as three points of a triangle. Activists and academics increasingly link mass incarceration and mass deportation, especially as immigration enforcement is criminalized. Likewise, the government’s threat to detain and deport has been linked to employer power. Guest workers face deportation if they exercise the most basic labor right, the right to quit, and undocumented workers labor under employer threats to call in immigration enforcement. Employers use this power to disrupt organizing, degrade working conditions, and depress wages.

    An incarceration-labor connection parallels this immigration-labor connection. This connection mirrors the thoroughly racialized ways that immigration policy produces workplace disadvantage. That historical pattern continues today as Latina/os and others treated as presumptively “foreign” face profiling by employers and government authorities. Similarly, racism has long structured criminal justice in the U.S. From defining what is a crime to the notorious cocaine sentencing disparities, from the frequency of police stops to searches to uses of force, the criminal justice system casts an especially dark shadow over communities of color, and not by coincidence.

  • November 9, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Brandon L. Garrett, Justice Thurgood Marshall Distinguished Professor of Law, University of Virginia School of Law. Last fall, Harvard University Press published his new book, Too Big to Jail: How Prosecutors Compromise with Corporations.

    The American death penalty is an outlier phenomenon. Fewer states are sentencing fewer people to death. Fewer counties are sentencing people to death within those states. But as outliers go, in the American death penalty world, Florida is in a class of its own. Florida allows, unlike any other state, a jury to be split, unexplained, and non-unanimous in its mere recommendation that the death penalty be imposed. Unlike any other state, Florida allows the judge then to make the actual factual determination that death should be imposed, not the jury. Now the Supreme Court is poised to decide whether this is constitutional.

    The Court heard arguments last month in Hurst v. Florida, one of several death penalty cases on its docket this term. Timothy Hurst was charged with the murder of his co-worker at a Popeye's chicken restaurant. His conviction had already been reversed once because of the ineffective assistance his lawyer provided at his first trial. And the Court is apparently not entertaining the question whether he is intellectually disabled and, as a result, categorically ineligible for the death penalty, another important issue in the case.

    Instead, there is a fundamental question whether the jury in his case really sentenced him to death. Formally, the judge did it. As former Solicitor General Seth Waxman put it at the oral arguments, “Under Florida law, Timothy Lee Hurst will go to his death despite the fact that a judge, not a jury, made the factual finding that rendered him eligible for death.” In Ring v. Arizona, in 2002, the Supreme Court overturned its earlier ruling in the 1990 case Walton v. Arizona, holding that the Sixth Amendment right to a jury trial entitles a defendant facing the death penalty to have the key aggravating factors making the case eligible for the death penalty found by a jury and not a trial judge. Just about every death penalty state readily complied with that ruling—except Florida.

  • November 6, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Christina Swarns, Director of Litigation, NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund, Inc.

    In 1879, the United States Supreme Court declared that the singling out of qualified African Americans for removal from jury service “is practically a brand upon them, affixed by the law, an assertion of their inferiority, and a stimulant to that race prejudice which is an impediment to securing individuals of the race that equal justice which the law aims to secure all others.” Although, in the subsequent 136 years, the Supreme Court has repeatedly condemned the practice of racial discrimination in jury selection, today, African Americans are excluded from jury service in ways that “seem[] better organized and more systematized than ever before.” Case in point: Foster v. Chatman, the jury discrimination challenge that was argued to the Supreme Court on Monday, November 2, 2015.

    Foster challenges Georgia prosecutors’ use of peremptory challenges to exclude African-American prospective jurors from the 1987 trial of Timothy Foster, an African-American man with intellectual disabilities who was charged with the murder of a White woman. Peremptory challenges are lawful opportunities for both prosecutors and defense attorneys to excuse prospective jurors from service in a particular trial. But there are limits to their use: In 1986, the Supreme Court held that these challenges cannot be based on race. Nonetheless, in Mr. Foster’s case, the prosecutors struck every single African-American prospective juror. As a result, an all-White jury convicted Mr. Foster of murder and sentenced him to death.

    When challenged, the Foster prosecutors offered a literal laundry list of supposedly race-neutral reasons for each of the strikes they exercised against the African-American prospective jurors. But the prosecutors’ notes, which were uncovered by the defense team some 20 years after Mr. Foster’s conviction, tell a completely different story. A note indicated that green highlighting “represent[s] blacks,” and the names of all the African-American jurors, but none of the White jurors, were highlighted in green. In their notes, the prosecutors referred to the African-American prospective jurors as “B#1, B#2, B#3,” while none of the White jurors were referred to solely by reference to race. In the prosecutors’ list of prospective jurors to strike, the name of every single prospective African-American juror was at the very top. The prosecutors ranked the African-American potential jurors in case they might “have to” seat one of them, but there was no similar ranking of all of the White prospective jurors. And last but not least, the supposedly race-neutral reasons offered by the prosecutors simply do not hold up: For example, the prosecutors said they struck one 34-year-old African-American juror because she was too close to the defendant’s age of 18, even though they accepted multiple White jurors who were actually closer in age to 18.

  • November 3, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Patrick J. Solar, Assistant Professor of Criminal Justice at the University of Wisconsin-Platteville and 30-year police veteran, serving as a patrol officer, detective, sergeant, lieutenant and chief of police.

    The ranks of policing are full of dedicated and well-meaning men and women armed with a minimum of a high school diploma and perhaps some college. Given the increasingly complex nature of the policing function it is no longer reasonable to expect the modern police officer to meet the challenges of this job armed only with these minimum qualifications and the academy. The answer is not adding more hours on to the academy as they have done in my home state of Wisconsin. We need police officers to be armed with a level of maturity and wisdom that comes from a liberal arts college degree.  This is not a new idea, it was made perfectly clear as a result of the last Presidential commission report back in 1967. 

    There is no doubt that obtaining a college degree costs both time and money but education is an investment with a high return; wise, quality policing. Educated police officers are much more likely to have the wisdom to know when to use force, as well as how and when to de-escalate. They would be better able to appreciate differences in others, and would deeply understand the social inequalities that lead some people to commit a crime and break the law. Police officer education can bring top-caliber officers into the ranks by encouraging thoughtful discussion and lengthy contemplation about the use of force as well as other pressing issues they confront. Thoughtful contemplation will resonate throughout the careers of educated officers who, as a result, possess the confidence to question and even challenge the status quo. 

    I believe that what we need most are men and women of "good will," armed with education and experience backed-up with a level of emotional maturity that is recognized, promoted and rewarded by enlightened police supervisors and leaders.

  • October 28, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Ashley Nellis, Ph.D., Senior Research Analyst, The Sentencing Project

    It may have been presumptuous to consider Montgomery v. Louisiana a done deal in advance of the Supreme Court oral arguments on the case earlier this month, which concerns the retroactive application of a 2012 ruling that juveniles can’t be mandatorily sentenced to life without parole (LWOP). After all, the Court has invited arguments on four separate cases pertaining to the importance of adolescent development in justice matters in the past five years and ruled favorably in all of them, pointing to science-driven evidence that young people are different when it comes to temptation, ability to foresee consequences, and engagement in risky behaviors.

    The justices focused on two points of discussion, neither of which casts any doubt on the established science that concludes that adolescents are less culpable for their role in crimes—even serious crime—and more capable of reform than older defendants. The majority of the 75 minutes of oral arguments was devoted to the issue of jurisdiction, or whether the justices even had the authority to rule on the case, as Montgomery did not make it to the Supreme Court through the usual channels. Instead of working up through lower federal courts, the case emerged directly from Louisiana’s state supreme court which ruled that Miller v. Alabama did not apply to Louisiana’s more than 250 prisoners serving such sentences.

    The second topic, to which considerably less time was devoted, was whether either of the two criteria demanding retroactivity of a ruling set forth in Teague v. Lane were met in Miller. On this matter, The Sentencing Project joined with dozens of other groups in submitting an amicus brief in support of the petitioner, arguing that Teague does apply since Miller represents a transformation in law, practice and jurisprudence which corrects for the now-discredited presumption that certain children cannot be reformed. In particular, the amici wrote:

    Miller cemented a seismic shift in Eighth Amendment jurisprudence relating to children. Given its significance, its categorical nature, and the precedents from which it descends, Miller is rightly viewed as both substantive and a watershed procedural rule and thus cannot be subjected to the Teague v. Lane bar on retroactivity.