Criminal Justice

  • 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.

  • October 14, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Sheila Bedi, Clinical Associate Professor of Law, Northwestern University School of Law; attorney, Roderick and Solange MacArthur Justice Center, Northwestern University School of Law’s Bluhm Legal Clinic

    Prisons and jails are a revolving door of brutality where people held behind bars experience horrific abuse funded by taxpayers and meted out at the hands of the state. My practice is dedicated almost exclusively toworking with and for men, women and children who live behind bars, and most of the cases I’ve filed have to do with prison and jail conditions.

    The facts of some of my cases speak for themselves. A juvenile prison in Mississippi was notorious for subjecting the young women there to sexual abuse, and in the wake of a particularly horrific incident during which correctional officers sexually abused girls who were then left shackled together for over a month, the prison was permanently closed. In downstate Illinois, a young man whose only offense was a first-time drug possession endured over 12 hours of brutal rape. He joined the over 200,000 people who survive sexual abuse in our nation’s prisons. Another case involved a private prison company that raked in over $100 million in profits while subjecting men to abusive conditions. There, some prison staff exploited the youth by selling drugs inside the facility, and youths who were handcuffed and defenseless were kicked, punched and beaten. Other youths were stripped naked and held in isolation for weeks at a time. Young men with serious health needs languished without medical care, sometimes risking death or permanent injury. A federal court found that these conditions resulted in “a cesspool of unconstitutional and inhuman acts . . . The sum of these actions and inactions . . . paints a picture of such horror as should be unrealized anywhere in the civilized world.”

    My work is about transforming—and hopefully dismantling—the criminal injustice system and enforcing the constitutional rights of people who live in the shadows. The challenge is to help the courts understand and reckon with the humanity of the 2.2 million men, women and children this country holds behinds bars. One of the ways that happens is when lawyers recognize the agency, courage and resilience of their clients. I am humbled and often awestruck by the courage of my clients, and the fact that they are willing to trust me with the truth of what they endure behind bars is an incredible privilege. Most of my cases are class actions seeking only injunctive relief. That means my clients aren’t getting any money from being involved in this work and instead put themselves at great risk of retaliation by speaking up and telling their stories to the court, all to ensure that others are protected from the abuses they endure.

  • September 11, 2015

    by Paul Guequierre

    Solitary confinement has been described as a living death. Jack Henry Abbot said about the practice: “Time descends in your cell like the lid of a coffin in which you lie and watch it as it slowly closes over you. When you neither move nor think in your cell, you are awash in pure nothingness. . . . Solitary confinement in prison can alter the ontological makeup of a stone.”

    Solitary confinement, the topic of a new Issue Brief by law professor Laura Rovner released today by ACS, is viewed by much of the developed world as torture. The international community has almost universally condemned the use of long-term isolation. In 2011, the U.N. Special Rapporteur on Torture concluded that prolonged solitary confinement is prohibited by the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (“ICCPR”) and the Convention Against Torture, and declared that the use of solitary confinement for more than 15 days constitutes torture. So why then, is use of the practice so rampant in the United States? The good news is it’s gaining renewed scrutiny in the court of public opinion. The question is: How will federal courts respond?

    As long ago as 1890, the U.S. Supreme Court criticized the use of solitary confinement. Justice Samuel Miller, who was a physician as well as a lawyer, observed that: “A considerable number of the prisoners [subjected to solitary confinement] fell, after even a short confinement, into a semi-fatuous condition, from which it was next to impossible to arouse them, and others became violently insane; others, still, committed suicide; while those who stood the ordeal better were not generally reformed, and in most cases did not recover sufficient mental activity to be of any subsequent service to the community.”

    And as recently as this year, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy criticized the practice, practically asking for a solitary confinement case, saying: “Research still confirms what this Court suggested over a century ago: Years on end of near-total isolation exacts a terrible price.

  • August 27, 2015
    Guest Post

    by Jennifer Taylor, staff attorney, Equal Justice Initiative

    Racial discrimination in jury selection is a feature of American criminal justice with a deep-rooted history and persistent life span. Last week, The New York Times explored the practice’s contemporary legacies and the law’s apparent inability to eradicate it once and for all.

    Before ratification of the Reconstruction Amendments that followed the end of the Civil War in 1865, black Americans were not legally considered American citizens and were routinely barred from serving on juries or testifying in court in many communities throughout the country – including in the South where the vast majority of them had been enslaved. After the grant of emancipation, citizenship, and legal rights, outright prohibitions on jury service evolved into thinly veiled qualification requirements that left selection up to the discretion of white officials or so-called random selection processes that enabled race-based exclusion. In practice, the result was the same: no black jurors allowed.

    More than a century later, after legal victories and social movements, the problem remains most prominent today where it was most prominent then: the American South. Adam Liptak’s article highlights a recent report finding that in Caddo Parish, Louisiana, prosecutors are three times as likely to strike a black person from jury service as a white juror. The Equal Justice Initiative reported similarly disturbing results in its own study of prosecutors’ strikes in Houston County, Alabama, in 2011 and filed suit on behalf of those jurors. The problem is not getting better.

    Importantly, discriminatory jury selection implicates not just the rights of the defendant facing trial, but also those of the excluded juror – black Americans who have the constitutional right to participate in the trial process but little recourse when that right is infringed upon. Recalling the experience of walking past a towering Confederate memorial to enter the Caddo Parish courthouse, 63-year-old Carl Stokes, a black man excluded from service on a death penalty case there in 2009, expressed dismay. “It dashes your hopes,” he told The New York Times. “It has its roots in the ideology of white supremacy.”