June 9, 2010

Speeding: We Don’t Need No Stinking Radar

Supreme Court of Ohio: City of Barberton v. Jenny

Maybe he wasn’t traveling faster than a speeding bullet, but defendant Mark Jenny was driving fast enough to catch the eye of Officer Santimarino. The question the court had to resolve: Was catching a speeder with your eyes enough to convict?

Officer Santimarino was with the Copley Police Department for 13 years. He was certified by the Ohio Peace Officer Training Academy, where he was trained to visually estimate vehicle speeds. In fact, to become certified, he had to show that he could estimate a vehicle’s speed “to within three to four miles per hour of the actual speed.”

PO Santimarino eyeballed Jenny at 70 mph in a 60.

He was also operating a radar gun at the time. He clocked Jenny at 82.

So much for estimating “within three to four miles per hour.”

He issued Jenny a citation for doing 79.

So much for modern math.

(In fairness to the cop, he testified he was doing Jenny a favor by reducing the speed on the citation so he wouldn’t have to make a personal appearance in court.)

At trial, Officer Santimarino could not produce a copy of his radar training certificate. That meant the radar results were precluded and that the only evidence in support of the speeding ticket was the visual observation of Jenny’s speed.

Jenny moved to dismiss arguing that the city failed to meet its burden of proof—or more accurately, that it had no proof of speeding at all. The lower court dismissed Jenny’s motion and found him guilty based only on the cop’s estimate of speed (which the court reduced to 70 mph on the citation since the speeding was now "clocked" at 70 mph by the only admissible evidence). That the court was aware of the radar result gave it confidence to convict, but it had no influence on its decision (wink, wink!). Punishment: a $50 fine plus costs.

Jenny appealed.

The court of appeals held that the state could not use the radar as proof of speed because there was no certification produced but that hearing about the radar reading was harmless error. There was still “sufficient” proof if a trained law man knew Jenny was speeding by seeing him do so. Conviction upheld.

Jenny appealed again.

Ohio's highest court resolved conflicting state court decisions without batting an eye:

We hold that a police officer’s unaided visual estimation of a vehicle’s speed, by itself, is sufficient to support a conviction for violation of R.C. 4511.21 (D) without independent verification of the vehicles speed if the officer is trained, is certified by the Ohio Peace Officer Training Academy or a similar organization…and is experienced in visually estimating vehicle speed.

For Jenny, not the blind justice he was hoping for.

This gives new meaning to the phrase “I’ll see you in court.”

Keep an eye on this trend. It may put a lid on your ability to ever meaningfully challenge a speeding ticket.

May 9, 2010

Freedom of Religion: Mad Hatters

US District Court, Eastern District of Michigan, Southern District: CAIR v. Judge William Callahan

Is this a blow against Muslim freedom of religion or not? You decide. The District Court upheld Wayne County Judge William Callahan’s declaration to hijab-wearing plaintiff Raneen Albaghdady, “No hats allowed in the courtroom.”

When told her headwear was not permitted, Ms. Albaghdady responded, “Okay. It doesn’t matter,” and removed the hijab. Her name change application then proceeded to decision (unfavorable, it turns out, because she filed without meeting the residency requirement), to be followed by a successful reapplication some time later.

The guardians of all things Islam, the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), apparently heard about Judge Callahan’s ethnic and religious insensitivity and filed this action “seeking a ‘declaration that the customary practice of … Callahan, in requiring Muslim women to remove their hijab violated’ Albaghdady’s ‘fundamental right to freely practice her religion’ in violation of the First Amendment.”

Judge Callahan moved for summary judgment. The court granted the motion and dismissed CAIR’s action. Blogs began to report this as another encroachment on Islamic freedom of religion. The decision will actually have the exact opposite effect. Albaghdady’s problem was not her religion, but apparently how she viewed the head cover. As she put it, it didn't matter. So she took it off. According to the District Court, if it didn't matter in the lower court, it couldn't matter later when she decided to sue in Federal Court.

CAIR claimed that the Judges no-hat policy is unconstitutional because it deprived Albaghdady of her right to exercise her religion and therefore restricted her access to the no-headgear judicial system of which Judge Callahan is a part.

Based on the facts at bar, the District Court could not find an applicable exception to the judicial immunity extended judges in the exercise of their duties. Moreover, the court’s conduct at issue is this case involved controlling dress and demeanor of parties participating in proceedings before the court, clearly the exercise of a duty within Judge Callahan’s juridical capacity.

As for the constitutional issue, plaintiff wanted to know what Judge Callahan knew and when he knew it, insisting he had to be familiar with the religious implications of the hijab because Wayne County is “home to the largest concentration of Arab-American Muslims outside of the Middle East” and the judge had 22 years experience on the bench. The inference was clear: Judge Callahan knew this was no ordinary hat, but was, rather, a religious head covering.

Decent arguments all, except that the exchange between parties was recorded on videotape, and it was clear that removing the hijab for Ms. Albaghdady was no big deal, and not a peep of religious protest was uttered at the time, notwithstanding Ms. Albaghdady’s subsequent claim that she was “terrified and scared” because in America, you just “can't say no to a judge in a court room.”

Based largely on the video, the District Court concluded that “This is not a situation where a government actor required removal of the hijab after the wearer asserted her First Amendment rights. There simply is no evidence that Callahan would have required the removal of a head covering if he had known of its religious significance.”

So does this case encroach on the religious freedom of hijab-wearing Muslim women? (or Muslim women wearing Burqas, Niqabs or Chadors for that matter). Hardly. It just sets out the requirement that they raise a timely religious protest of some sort which will apparently guarantee that they can wear the headgear of their choice to the courtroom of their preference.

Hats off to the court for defending the American way of life.

Or not.

January 15, 2010

Sexual Discrimination: Quid Pro Quo No No

Superior Court of New Jersey Appellate Division: J.T.’s Tire Service v. United Rentals

There are basically two forms of sexual harassment: The first is quid pro quo sexual harassment, which “occurs when an employer attempts to make an employee’s submission of sexual demands a condition of his or her employment.” The second is hostile work environment sexual harassment, which occurs "when an employer or fellow employees harass an employee because of his or her sex to the point at which the working environment becomes hostile.”

Simply put, the latter form of harassment generally occurs when a woman works among Neanderthal men who have not learned that it is no longer acceptable in the work place to comment about anatomy, grab or grope said anatomical parts or generally act like we still live in the stone age. It’s akin to a mob mentality on a smaller scale and it brings out the worst in men. Just ask Isiah Thomas of the Knicks and Madison Square Garden Chairman James Dolan.

Quid pro quo sexual harassment is of a different nature. It requires no mob, no assists, just a willingness to abuse power or position for sex. It’s not just the lowest form of harassment, it’s the low-life form of harassment. But can it happen when it isn’t the boss hitting on an employee? What about in the market place, when the representative of one business demands sexual favors from the representative of another to close the deal or to maintain their commercial intercourse?

United is a national equipment rental company. Its Piscataway branch manager was Harold Hinkes. Eileen Totorello is the sole shareholder of J.T. Tire Service, a company that was selling tires to United since 1998. In 2005 Hinkes “began pressuring Totorello to have a sexual relationship with him.” She refused. United Piscataway then stopped buying her tires.

Totorello “managed to get the work back” (one wonders what was said), but Hinkes continued to make threats to withhold business if theirs remained a sex-free relationship. Apparently intent on winning, or at least commandeering sexual favors from Ms. Totorello, he used his tired old tire line to make his point, and added a little kissing and groping in case he had been too subtle. When she refused even these creative advances, Hinkes told her she made a “very poor business decision.” Tire purchases then went permanently flat when United stopped buying J.T.’s tires, which by then amounted to sales of $29,000 per month.

J.T. and Ms. Totorello sued. The lower court said there was no case (all’s fair in love and war, and apparently in business), and that this was not the type of harassment contemplated by the Jersey discrimination statute. The Appellate Division disagreed, finding that “The LAD prohibits discriminatory refusals to do business on the basis of sex, by making it unlawful: For any person to refuse to buy from…contract with…or otherwise do business with any other person on the bases of …sex.”

While defendant conceded that the statute prohibited sexual harassment, it argued that it did not prohibit sexual discrimination, and that the former was prohibited only in employment, and either way, this was not the kind of discrimination the LAD contemplated. While United get’s an “A” for chutzpah, it got nowhere with the court, which ruled:

Although the LAD does not specifically mention sexual harassment as a prohibited form of discrimination, it is well-established that ‘[s]exual harassment is a form of sex discrimination that violates both Title VII and the LAD.’

It went on to say the obvious, which unfortunately for alleged low-lifes and Neanderthals, often needs to be said, to wit, “Where, as here, the harassment consists of sexual overtures and unwelcome touching or groping, it is presumed that the conduct was committed because of the victim’s sex.” And since touching and groping made the question easier for the court to resolve, the refusal to buy tires under the above quoted LAD meant that United’s actions through Hinkes was also discriminatory due to her sex. To rule otherwise, to let such behavior continue unfettered, “would stand as a barrier to women’s ability to do business on an equal footing with men.”

It was Lord Acton who said “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” But it’s all relative. Even a little power, like a little knowledge, is a dangerous thing in the wrong hands.

United ended up with a blow out in court for letting Hinkes drive a hard bargain. Maybe now it will remember one of the fundamental reasons to conduct business at arm’s length—it keeps negotiators out of groping and grabbing range.

December 24, 2009

Cell Phone Records: Numbers Please

New York State Appellate Division, 3rd Department: Detraglia v. Grant

Cell phones continue to make law. Last month we looked to Ohio where the court concluded it is a crime to destroy the cell phone of someone calling authorities for assistance in an emergency where life or property are at risk. So how does New York view cell phone records after there’s been property damage and injury as a result of an auto accident.

Robert Grant was driving a company car owned by Hawkeye, his employer. His vehicle collided with defendant Detraglia’s car. Stephanie Detraglia, an infant passenger, was injured and brought this action against both drivers. Demand was made that defendants Grant and Hawkeye “produce billing records for all three of Grant’s cellular telephones and the Verizon wireless air card for his company-issued laptop computer for the date of the accident between 12:00 PM and 4:00 PM” (the accident happened at 2:57 PM). Defendants refused to comply. A motion to compel discovery followed.

Although Grant testified at deposition that he wasn’t using his cell phone or lap top at the time of the accident and that the lap top was secure in a bag, the tow truck driver at the scene submitted an affidavit stating that “he saw the laptop on the vehicle’s computer desk, with the screen flipped up and turned on” indicating recent use. That raised enough of an issue for the lower court to order defendants to turn over the records. Grant and Hawkeye appealed.

The Appellate Division agreed with the lower court, finding that “conflicting evidence raised questions as to whether Grant used any technological devices while driving, rendering the records relevant to the question of his negligence.” The court narrowed the window of discovery of such records to 2:30 PM to 3:30 PM and directed that the court do an in camera review first to protect privacy interests. If it turns out Grant was on the phone or on the computer at the time of the accident, he might have to hang up his defense.

Given how easy it is while driving to use a cell phone to text, get or send emails, surf the web, watch videos, and even make phone calls, such technological distractions are as likely to cause an accident as glancing at a map on the passenger seat or speeding through an intersection. Obtaining the details of a driver’s phone use seems fair game when trying to figure out what caused an accident. In fact, given the ubiquitous use of cell phones and the tendency of people to leave out important facts while being questioned under oath, it would seem that discovery of such records should be a matter of routine, denials of use notwithstanding. One suspects phone record discovery in accidents is well on the way to becoming the law of the land.

The Appellate Division's use of in camera inspection to limit intrusion into the individual's phone or lap top stored data and contacts is entirely in keeping with the value we place on our right to privacy. In Ohio v. Smith, an unrelated case decided the same week, that state’s high court ruled that there is a “high expectation of privacy in a cell phone’s content” particularly because they are “capable of storing tremendous amounts of private data.” Under the circumstances, “an officer may not conduct a search of a cell phone’s contents incident to a lawful arrest without first obtaining a warrant.” In Smith’s case, looking at who he called (supposed drug dealers he was negotiating with) at the time of the crime without first obtaining a warrant, and introducing such evidence at the time of trial, violated his Fourth Amendment right to be free from unlawful search and seizure. Absent exigent circumstances which require an immediate search of phone records for the safety of law-enforcement officers, a warrant is required.

Used to be you were entitled to one phone call when charged with a crime. Nowadays, a valid warrant to search your one cell phone could be your downfall.

And in a civil action, if the evidence of phone use at the time of the accident is in there, it could turn out to be the ultimate collect call, at least for the plaintiff seeking money damages.

November 24, 2009

911: Cell Phone Cell

Supreme Court of Ohio: State of Ohio v. Robinson

The law is a slow moving behemoth. Technology changes at a meteoric pace. Watching the law trying to keep up can be amusing and depressing. It can also leave one wondering if the common law—judicial decisions applying general principals of law to given sets of facts—has yielded to the nano state (a derivative of the nanny state) where legislative micro management of rapidly-changing technology is the norm and an ever-increasing challenge for our courts. Ohio v. Robinson is a case in point.

Raynell Robinson was upset with his nephew Antonio. Antonio and his friend Heather Hoge had attended a party at Robinson’s apartment when Robinson was not at home. When he walked in on the affair, he ordered everyone to leave. As nephew Antonio and his friend Hoge began to leave, Robinson hit Antonio in the back of the head. He then proceeded to pummel him. At some point Antonio called 911 on his cell phone. Although he was able to tell the operator that he was at The Meadows apartment complex and that his face was split open, Robinson grabbed the cell phone and smashed it before he could tell them his exact location. Antonio’s friend Heather Hoge then dialed 911 on her cell, but Robinson “told her to show him her hand and that that she had better not be calling the police.” Fearing for her own safety, Hoge got off the phone before she could say where in the complex Antonio was being beaten.

The cops eventually found the right place, the battered Antonio, and cited Robinson for Disorderly Conduct. A grand jury indicted him for the felonious assault of Antonio and for disrupting public service in violation of R.C. 2909.04(A)(3) which makes it a crime to impair the ability of law-enforcement officers and others to respond to an emergency or to protect and preserve any person or property from serious physical harm.

The assault count was never heard at trial. Antonio was apparently not confident he could be protected by the system. Instead, he moved to Arizona and refused to return to Ohio to testify, and, one suspects, obtained an unlisted cell phone number. Hoge testified, however, about the threats to her safety when she tried to call 911. Robinson was convicted and got 2 years for intimidating a victim and 15 months for impairing the cops’ ability to respond to the 911 call by smashing Antonio’s phone.

Plainly put, the question on appeal was whether smashing the cell phone was a separate crime under R.C. 2909.04(A)(3) since Antonio was trying to call the police for help at the time of the assault? The high court said it was.

The Third District Court of Appeals had held that R.C. 2909.04(A)(3) “clearly and unambiguously prohibits substantial interference with public emergency systems and utilities, not the destruction of a single private telephone or cell phone.” The Appellate court also found that the state “failed to prove the element of substantial impairment because the officers arrived at the scene of the assault within a few minutes of being dispatched.”

It’s not clear that Antonio appreciated this nuance or the extra time it took the cops to locate him in the complex or the fear he felt when his lifeline ended with the destruction of his cell phone. In fact, he seemed not to have fully recovered from this trauma, as his switch to Arizona Bell suggests, and the high court was not without sympathy. Ironically, the Ohio Supremes found with equal clarity and unambiguousness “that the damaging of a single private telephone or cellular telephone constitutes a violation of R.C.2909.04 (A) (3)” if the conduct substantially impairs the ability of law enforcement officers and others to respond to an emergency “or to protect and preserve any person or property from serious physical harm.” It also noted that the statute in question never mentioned “public emergency systems” or “utilities,” language the appellate court read into the statute when it reversed Robinson’s conviction.

As for whether there was “substantial impairment” of law enforcement’s ability to respond in this case, that was a question of fact for the jury. According to the high court, the issue isn’t one of response time, as the appellate court thought (is a 1 minute delay ok? is 3 minutes too much?); “the inquiry is directed toward [law enforcement’s] ability to respond.” Here, while the police were attempting to respond to Antonio’s call for help and find him in the complex without an exact apartment number, Robinson continued to beat the hell out of him. That was substantial impairment enough and a direct result of smashing the phone.

Accordingly, Robinson’s conviction and 15 month imprisonment for disrupting public services were reinstated.

This is not an isolated case. It is a picture of the nano-state we live in. Technology keeps changing. Elected officials try to keep up. The legislation gets too technical. Then the courts, in this case, the Third Appellate Department of Ohio, get hyper technical and ethereal, only to be corrected by a high court that agrees with a jury of lay people who got it all right from the beginning.

The diminished role of common law (and the elevated role of legislative solutions to perceived technical loopholes in the law) brings with it a concomitant loss of common sense. It would seem plain to everyone but judges that smashing the cell phone of your assault victim as he calls for help would impair law enforcement’s ability to respond and was the sort of thing envisioned by Ohio’s duly elected representatives and their nano-legislation.

Nowadays, the only thing plain to most of us is that the law is never clear and unambiguous. It's voluminous, exhaustive and more like the tax code than the Ten Commandments.

Voltaire was right. Common sense is not so common. Maybe even less so the more technology becomes part of our daily lives and the more legislators try to regulate it.


October 26, 2009

Cyber Stalking: What a Wicked Web We Weave

US Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit: United States v. Fullmer et. al.

We live in very contentious times. The red-state-blue-state divide is political, geographical and cultural. Debate about issues is frequently obscured by the politics of hate, by innuendo and by ad hominum attacks on those who speak out on the issues. Whether you support Rush Limbaugh or Al Gore, Sara Palin or Barack Obama, there seems to be way less common ground than in times past—and way less interest in even finding it.

Everything has become a crisis. Everything has become an issue that cannot be compromised. And everything is magnified and disseminated exponentially, courtesy of the worldwide web. Just a click away, a wonderful and dreadful thing the web: both a fountain of breaking news, information and learning and a cesspool of violence, pornography and hatred all at once.

Perhaps there’s no other tool with the power to destroy lives and reputations so easily. Bloggers can be indifferent to facts. Rumormongers can ruin lives with a well placed post. And anyone with a computer can upload their own demise on line or set in motion events that lead to the demise of others.

Somewhere between on-line beheadings and spam, we find US. v. Fullmer.

The case is about the activities of Stop Huntingdon Animal Cruelty (SHAC) and six individual defendants (referred herein collectively as “SHAC”) who were either employees, principals or in some way associated with SHAC. SHAC was formed in 1999. It has been uncompromisingly opposed to Huntingdon’s research with animals and committed to closing its laboratories. According to SHAC, Huntingdon was a purveyor of animal cruelty in the interest of science and corporate profits. Its abuses of animals were depicted in a surveillance videotape (viewer discretion advised) obtained by someone posing as a Huntingdon lab technician. When aired on British TV, it led to a spate of protests and the birth of SHAC-UK and subsequently, its US counterpart after SHAC’s relentless campaign caused Huntingdon to relocate to the states.

SHAC’s opposition to Huntingdon was not based on the actions of Gandhi or Martin Luther King. It was something new. Something born out of the cyber age. It targeted Huntingdon and companies that dealt with it, from accounting firms, bankers and realtors, to Huntingdon board members, stockholders and employees, including their wives and children. SHAC used its website as a bludgeon. Its take-no-prisoners, scorched-earth approach to its mission was incredibly effective. And frightening. As defendant Gazzola put it, “this is the most successful campaign in the history of the animal rights movement and it’s precisely because we’re pushing the limits and we’re tired of standing around holding signs and yelling at buildings and writing letters and not getting anywhere. We’re gonna do what we have to do in order to be effective and in order to save lives.”

The court’s opinion chronicles a sampling of the SHAC defendants’ activities. Its web postings included the following:

-Coordinating protests;
-Encouraging direct action (both legal and illegal, the illegal kind being both lauded and disavowed simultaneously);
-Instructing economic sabotage (including step-by-step how-to instructions as well as posting times for coordinated electronic assaults on corporate servers and fax machines);
-Listing accomplishments (such as people and places that had been attacked or acquiesced to SHAC’s demands); and
-Promoting vandalism (or at least excusing and appreciating it as a natural overflow of anti-Huntingdon outrage).

In a message to all associated with or employed by Huntingdon, defendant Harper used the backdrop of successful personal and institutional attacks to put Huntingdon and its business partners on notice of SHAC’s reach: “animal abusers …may be safe from the cops, the army, and the FBI…they are not safe from us…If no one else will treat them like the criminal scum that they are, at least we will…It is time to go beyond our fear of reprisals.”

Given the contents of the surveillance video, some might find such hard-edged tactics acceptable. But there was more. There were physical attacks and protests at board members’ homes. There were personal threats to them. To their children. Home addresses were published on the web. Phone numbers were published. Houses were flooded, windows smashed and neighbors intimidated. There was the posting of the “Top 20 Terror Tactics.” There were death threats by email and phone. And there was a state of fear that was nurtured and encouraged by SHAC.

SHAC’s web page, while always disavowing illegal activity, sympathized with its supposed unknown, more violent compatriots, and published instructions about how to avoid detection or arrest for such activity (even a cursory reading of the court’s decision is like a manifesto on modern economic warfare by cyber means—in many ways, it’s as disturbing as the Huntingdon video). Those targeted lived in abject fear for their lives, some to the point of arming themselves, others to the point of surrender, acquiescing to SHAC’s demands rather than resisting them alone.

Defendants were eventually charged and convicted of a variety of offenses, including conspiracy to violate the Animal Enterprise Protection ACT (AEPA protects those who use animals for testing from certain forms of animal-rights activity), conspiracy to commit interstate stalking as well as three substantive counts of stalking.

On appeal, defendants argued, among other things, that the convictions violated their First Amendment right to engage in civil disobedience and to voice their objections to Huntingdon’s activities. The court disagreed. While some postings on SHAC’s website were protected speech, notwithstanding it was “speech that many find offensive and uncomfortable,” other posts which “coordinate electronic civil disobedience and disseminate the personal information of individuals employed by Huntingdon and affiliated companies are more problematic.” Such communication was not protected speech and some “constituted ‘true threats.’”

As the court observed, “viewed in context, the speeches, protests, and web postings were all tools to further their effort” and were not speech protected by the First Amendment. They were crimes. Accordingly, the individual defendants received sentences ranging from one year to six years in prison.

We are left with a number of questions: Are these people heroes in the animal rights movement? Should they be applauded for putting their lives on the line for their beliefs (even belatedly, since on line, they denied personal involvement)? Are they simply zealots who did what was necessary to save animals?

Or are they thugs? Bullies? And political / business terrorists?

Those on the receiving end of their “protests” would vote for the latter category. Many who share SHAC’s views might see them as visionaries. But the question remains: What type of society are we evolving into?

Maybe the ends justify the means when it comes to animals. How about when it comes to global warming? To illegal immigration? To mandatory vaccines for H1N1? To gun control or legalizing marijuana?

Are we inexorably on a road that takes no prisoners in a winner-take-all battle over everything? Or have we already crossed the Rubicon when it comes to civil discussion and the common good?

Sometimes it looks and feels that way. Sometimes it looks and feels like we are willingly letting the common ground beneath our feet slip away, completely indifferent or oblivious to the fact that we are falling into something much more dangerous and intolerant and insidious—all in the interest of advancing THE cause.

Which, of course, says something either about our lack of powers of persuasion or our inability or unwillingness to listen to the other side. Or to lose gracefully. In the market place of ideas that is America, the wheat has always been separated from the chaff, which historically has brought out the best in America, and which hopefully, will continue to do so even as the internet has the potential to bring out the worst.

Still, we should be glad about this uniquely American problem because freedom of speech can only be abused where it exists in the first place.

July 2, 2009

Due Process: Stunning Decision

New York State Court of Appeals: People v. Buchanan

It was Mr. Bumble in Charles Dickens’ Oliver Twist who first said “the law is an ass” after he was told “the law supposes that your wife acts under your direction.” His point was plain: reality and the law frequently don’t see eye to eye.

There are times when courts make rulings based on constitutional law, state law or even some ethereal philosophy that causes us to raise an eyebrow rather than see the point. Perhaps this is such a case.

As the dissent describes him, defendant Ingvue Buchanan was “a man in his thirties who apparently stands more than 6 feet tall and weighs over 300 pounds.” Defendant was accused of murdering a 14-year-old girl by strangling her. He was tried before a jury and convicted of second degree murder (the highest count chargeable in New York State).

Buchanan appealed and the case made its way to New York’s highest court. The basis for the appeal: the trial judge made Mr. Buchanan wear a stun belt during trial. It is a form of electrical restraint that “can deliver a shock should there be a problem.” The stun belt was worn beneath defendant’s clothes, and unlike shackles, could not be seen by the jury.

At trial, the judge told defendant Buchanan he was requiring him to wear the device as a matter of policy because of the seriousness of the charges against him. Defendant personally objected, telling the court “I have done nothing to warrant this." While the trial judge did not disagree with defendant, he still required him to wear the belt “in the interest of being overly cautious for security.” Seemingly not unreasonable given defendant’s size and the charges against him.

After a day of trial, Buchanan complained that the device was “uncomfortable.” So the court had it examined. Then the next day, out of an abundance of caution and judicial sensitivity, the judge obtained a report confirming that there was no medical reason that would prevent Buchanan from wearing the belt. And so he wore it through the duration of the trial and the guilty verdict rendered, with no shock ever having been administered, except, perhaps, to the parents of the murdered 14 year old.

Anyway, defendant argued that the stun belt “deprived him of due process of law” under both the US Constitution and state law because the US Supreme Court has held that “the Due Process Clause prohibits a state from confining a defendant in ‘visible shackles’ during a criminal trial, unless a ‘special need,’ based on facts specific to the case is shown.” The prosecutors argued that unlike shackles which can be seen, no one saw the stun belt and no jurors knew about it, so there could be no violation of defendant’s rights.

In its infinite wisdom, New York’s highest court concluded that it need not reach the constitutional issue since “as a matter of New York law...it is unacceptable to make a stun belt a routine adjunct of every murder trial, without a specifically identified security reason.” Since the stun belt was a matter of the trial judge’s “policy,” and not a stated finding with respect to this defendant’s need for potential restraints, a new trial was ordered.

Simply put, a 6 foot 300 pound man accused of strangling a 14-year-old girl had his conviction overturned because he had to wear a hidden restraining device that was never activated and never administered a shock.

It’s hard to know how to process this decision, but some perspective is warranted: Is wearing the device so offensive—like making a man wear women’s underwear—that it’s even more offensive than a 300 pound man strangling a 14-year-old child, as the jury concluded? Does such an insult to Mr. Buchanan’s sensitivities warrant having his conviction reversed? Does due process under state law guarantee a defendant the right to be free from any inconvenience or precaution beyond confinement? Or are our sensibilities so exaggerated in these politically correct times that defendant’s offendedness from being made to wear the device actually outweighs the offense of murder?

As the lone dissent put it: “Defendant failed to show that the stun belt was visible to the jury or otherwise compromised the fundamental fairness of the trial; he never objected that the stun belt impaired his ability to communicate with his attorney or meaningfully participate in his defense. Since I therefore do not believe that defendant has shown any actual prejudice, I would affirm his conviction.”

So would most people. But the law is what the law is.

June 8, 2009

Shock and Seizure: Watt Evidence?

Niagara County Court, New York: People v. Ryan S. Smith

Tasers electrified the nation last year with the famous, “Don’t tase me, bro” incident out of the University of Florida. The device is back in another story that is electrifying court watchers.

Defendant Ryan Smith was a suspect in a kidnapping and an armed robbery. DNA evidence had been obtained from a can of soda the kidnapper had helped himself to during the course of the crime. Through good detective work and a series of procedural moves, the DA’s office had a court order to take a buccal swab for DNA from the defendant’s mouth, obtained and lost the sample, then applied for and received a second order to do it again.

Defendant declined to submit to the swab when cops approached him on the street, so they took him to police headquarters. Detectives tried to convince defendant to cooperate but Smith “firmly and obstinately objected to submitting to the authority of the Order. He said he had already given a sample and that they would have to ‘tase’ him to get another swab.”

Wrong thing to say.

The detective on the case called and conferred with the ADA in charge, who approved the use of necessary “minimum force” to obtain the sample. Considering their options, the cops ruled out holding the defendant down and forcing his mouth open, believing it potentially injurious to defendant and risky for them. So they set their taser on stun (“drive stun,” the least powerful setting) and asked Smith to reconsider. They told him it would be unpleasant, but he refused to allow them to take a swab. They told him they didn’t want to hurt him. He still refused. And after a final warning and refusal, they tasered as needed (four seconds), recorded the proceeding and got their swab. They then arrested Smith for Obstructing Governmental Administration (as if he didn’t have enough problems).

Citing cases which authorize the use of reasonable force in other circumstances, the court ruled that no Constitutional prohibitions were violated by use of the taser to obtain the swab. This was reasonable force (even if during their pre-taser conference with the DA’s office detectives neglected to mention that they were considering using the device). Now had the taser been used to cause pain to obtain the desired result, this would have drifted into unlawful use of torture. But as the court stated, “The defendant was forewarned, steps were taken to limit his risk of injury, and the device was used one time for a brief burst. There was no lasting damage or injury.”

For the court, defendant amped up the problem and was shocked by the solution.

As the court noted,

This case is perhaps best described as the “perfect storm” where the crimes being investigated were egregious, the evidence sought highly probative, the intrusion required was minimal, and with a subject who steadfastly refused to comply with a lawful court Order. Further, the officers, armed with the Order issued, repeatedly sought the subject’s compliance, explored alternative methods of obtaining the sample, repeatedly warned the defendant of the consequences of his refusal and took steps to minimize the pain inflicted and the potential for injury. There was not malice or desire to injure the defendant.

Accordingly, defendant’s motion to suppress was denied and the People could use the evidence obtained from the swab.

A stunning decision which will no doubt cause sparks to fly all over the political spectrum.

May 11, 2009

GPS, Search and Seizure: Car 54 Where Are You?

Wisconsin Court of Appeals, District IV: State of Wisconsin v. Michael A. Sveum

Technology races ahead as most of us long ago gave up ever trying to program our VCRs. Now there are blackberries, blogs and links, text messages and twitter, GPS Navigation and GPS tracking. The latter is the subject of the case at bar.

Can the police secretly attach a GPS tracking device to a suspect's car in his own driveway without violating his Fourth Amendment right to be free from unreasonable searches and seizures? The Court concludes the cops can and that no Fourth Amendment search or seizure even occurs.

Sveum was a repeat stalker. He did time for stalking Jamie Johnson in 1996 and began stalking her anew (with his sister’s help) even before his release from prison in 2002 (this guy may need a body cavity GPS installed). Police sought and received a warrant to covertly attach a GPS tracker to defendant’s car. Based on data collected, a warrant was obtained to search his home, and Sveum was charged and convicted of aggravated (second offense) stalking. He was sentenced to 7 and a half years. He appealed and challenged the use of the GPS tracking device to gather any evidence against him.

The GPS device in question is battery powered and was affixed to defendant’s car with a magnet and tape while it sat in his driveway. Defendant challenged the cops’ entry onto his driveway to install the device. The vehicle was then tracked for about five weeks. Sometimes the car was garaged at home, sometimes at work. The GPS unit was then physically retrieved to obtain a detailed satellite tracking history of its and its host vehicle’s whereabouts. The result was a complete itinerary of the defendant’s travels when he used his car and even where he parked it. He challenged the state's right to know where he parked in private.

What irony: The stalker stalked by satellite.

According to the court, “no Fourth Amendment violation occurred here simply because the police used a GPS device to obtain information about Sveum’s car that was visible to the general public.” Similarly, that the device was attached to the vehicle while in defendant’s driveway was not enough to render its use illegal; the driveway was not “protected ‘curtilage’” [enclosed land on the property]. And that garage locations were electronically noted hardly amounted to an improper search or violated any real expectation of privacy since old fashioned police observation could have netted the same results

The information gathered by the device gave probable cause for a search warrant of the home, and in the end, a jury found defendant guilty. So too did the Court of Appeals.

The Court did sound the warning about advances in technology, however, and acknowledge that it was

troubled the conclusion that no Fourth Amendment search or seizure occurs when police use a GPS or similar device as they have here. So far as we can tell, existing law does not limit the government’s use of tracking devices to investigations of legitimate criminal suspects. If there is no Fourth Amendment search or seizure, police are seemingly free to secretly track anyone’s public movements with a GPS device.

Good for the court. It ruled based on existing law but recommended that the legislature tackle the issue before technology runs amok by well-intentioned but overzealous law enforcement and other inquiring minds.

The rest of the details of this case are like the instructions to your VCR. Important but not relevant.

The bottom line is that there might be something on the bottom of your car and authorities may know exactly where you are at this very moment. So too may your wife or husband, your boss or your mother.

If you're worried, you would be well advised to look both under the hood and under the chassis the next time you pull out of your driveway or you could find your itinerary on YouTube, Google Earth or on a monitor at police headquarters or the Internal Revenue Service.

Welcome to the 21st Century.


October 20, 2008

Counterfeiting: Funny Money for Dummies

U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit: United States v. Porter


There all kinds of new ways to commit crime: There’s identify theft, credit card fraud, computer hacking and stealing cable or satellite signals. There are also new ways to commit old crimes. Thanks to advances in color copying, anyone can turn counterfeiter with low or no overhead and just a little bit of ingenuity and determination. But as always, good art is in the eye of the beholder.

The question presented almost sounds existential: If you’re a terrible counterfeiter and no one will actually believe that your funny money is real, have you really committed a crime?

According to the court, a bad job is still a bad act and a C minus C note will still land you in stir.

Chrystal Porter was only too willing to participate in an ill-conceived plan to make some easy money and help her friends out of a jam. Joey Barret lived with Erica Horton. Barret owed Carlos drug money. When Barret couldn’t pay, Carlos began threatening the couple and their children. As a compromise born of necessity, Barret and Erica agreed to let Carlos use Erica’s color copier to make fake money to pay off the drug debt.

This was not top-shelf work. Color copies of each side of a hundred dollar bill were duplicated onto manila paper. The two sides were cut out and glued together, then crumpled to give them that genuine used look. Erica completed the masterpiece by drawing lines on the fakes to look like the magnetic strips on the real deals. Carlos needed a place to pass the bad bucks and Erica said she knew a cashier at Wal-Mart. Enter Chrystal Porter.

When Porter showed up at the house, Erica presented their art project and asked if Porter would accept the fakes at her register at Wal-Mart. After studying the bills, Porter concluded, “Yeah, this will work.” When Porter was on the clock, Erica showed up and bought $300 worth of gift certificates with the bogus bucks and Joey bought another $200. Needless to say, Wal-Mart discovered the scam almost immediately and within 2 days the cops were at Porter’s home where she spilled her guts and dropped a dime on Joey and Erica.

Porter was indicted, tried and convicted for conspiracy to manufacture and utter counterfeit US obligations.

Porter’s defense at trial was that this was such a terrible forgery it couldn’t be taken seriously and therefore the fakes couldn’t be considered counterfeit. As she put it, “the instrument that she specifically agreed to assist in passing did not sufficiently resemble genuine currency to be counterfeit” so it was impossible for her to be guilty of conspiracy. She went so far as to say her copies were no better than monopoly money and couldn’t fool anyone.

At trial, the case turned on the details of the jury charge. Defendant argued that the jury should have been told the following: “A bill is counterfeit only if it possesses similitude: it bears such a likeness or resemblance to genuine currency as is calculated to deceive an honest, sensible and unsuspecting person of ordinary observation and care when dealing with a person supposed to be upright and honest.” The lower court thought otherwise and instead charged that “To be counterfeit, a Federal Reserve note must have a likeness or resemblance to genuine currency.” The “likeness” was good enough for the jury and Porter was convicted.

Porter raised this argument again on appeal, making this fine distinction: “even though she conspired to pass fake $100 bills, she did not conspire to pass counterfeit $100 bills. In essence, she argues that, by refusing to instruct the jury using her definition of counterfeit, the trial court denied her the opportunity to present her main defense to the jury.” Put another way, Porter claimed she was such a bad criminal she didn’t commit a crime.

Not persuaded by the weight of her argument, the Court of Appeals found that the jury charge Porter wanted was appropriate only if she had been charged with violations of 18 USC Section 473 (requiring the perpetrator to acquire or dispose of such false obligations with “the specific intent that they be perceived ‘as true and genuine.’” Since Porter’s conspiracy charge was based only on violations of Section 471 (making counterfeit bills) and Section 472 (passing fake bills) all that was required for the bills to be considered counterfeit was “a likeness or resemblance to genuine currency.”

They may have been really bad bills, but they were good enough for the Feds, for the jury, and now, for the Appellate court.

Bad paper is bad paper. Or is it? The only thing it will buy you at Wal-Mart is time. On Wall Street, however, bad paper can still buy you a bail out.

Porter’s real mistake was not getting her MBA or heeding the Wall Street warning: DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME.

July 27, 2008

Internet Divorce: I O YouTube

New York Supreme Court: Smith v. Walsh-Smith

It's a brave new world and YouTube is at the cutting edge. From the same computer you download directions or songs for your iPod, you can upload and stream videos to a worldwide audience. Now that's power! And possible trouble. Tricia Walsh-Smith is a case in point.

Tricia married Philip Smith, a man 25 years her senior. Philip started out as a theater usher and ended up president of the Shubert Organization, "the largest theater owner and operator in the United States." Notwithstanding his success, Mr. Smith is a very private man. Apparently, Mrs. Walsh-Smith had issues about the terms of their prenuptial agreement and about her husband's unwillingness to invest $250,000 in her theatrical production. Without his money, the show would not go on. These issues ripened into heated arguments, flying crockery and threats by the missus to malign Mr. Smith in the New York Post. True to her word, the Post got the dirt on Mr. S. As a result, he filed for divorce on the grounds of cruel and inhuman treatment.

She sued him back. She also availed herself to some self-help. Not satisfied that she was mustering the necessary leverage to obtain a favorable outcome or an out-of-court settlement to her liking, the angry wife took her beef to the internet. Having come to appreciate the value of a good production, she brought a film crew into the marital apartment, added music and subtitles, and trashed her husband on video. She then posted it on YouTube, which turned out to be her big break. The video was an "overnight sensation" and has been viewed more than three million times.

Fame has its cost, however. It is no easy task to prove cruel and inhuman treatment in divorce court, but Mrs. Walsh-Smith's internet histrionics gave Mr. Smith all the proof he needed. As the court stated, "He has been publically humiliated and embarrassed to an unprecedented extent." Mrs. Walsh-Smith claimed "she had no other option" because of her finances. The judge was not moved, noting that other spouses have been similarly challenged without resorting to the internet, and concluded that "it is hard to say defendant had no other choice when no one else before her had ever exercised that choice." Accordingly, the court granted Mr. Smith his divorce. As for Mrs. Smith, she might have gone where no woman has gone before, but she owes YouTube the credit for the outcome in her divorce.

YouTube is power: Become famous (or infamous) overnight. Jump start a career. Or attack your enemies (or your spouse) on a global scale from the convenience of your home. It might seem like a handy tool to advance your interests, but we are learning it comes with responsibilities. You can't use the internet as a weapon to humiliate or embarrass people with impunity. (In an unrelated but similar case, a Florida judge required two teens who had thrown a large drink at the drive-thru cashier—an activity its purveyors call "fire in the hole"—to post a groveling apology on YouTube after they first posted their own home-made video of their mean-spirited carbonated assault.) We'll see what new and inspiring or insipid ways the internet will be used tomorrow, and just how creative the courts will have to become to deal with it.

Until then, post at your own risk.