Wednesday, October 13, 2010

A Time to Grieve or Protest

Last week for US Supreme Court heard Snyder v. Westboro Baptist Church, 09-751, a case which pits a family’s rights to bury their son with respect and dignity against Constitutional rights. The Court must determine if protesters, who turned a funeral into a media circus and attacked the family on their website, can avoid liability for their actions by claiming protection under the First Amendment’s right to free speech.

Al Snyder, father of Marine Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder, had only one opportunity to bury his son who died in Iraq while serving his country. Al Snyder was denied the opportunity to do so with dignity and honor. Over four years ago, members of a fundamentalist church in Kansas picketed Matthew's funeral bearing signs with anti-gay and anti-Catholic messages. Rev. Fred Phelps and his followers picket military funerals because they believe that United States troop deaths in Afghanistan and Iraq are God's punishment for the nation's tolerance of homosexuality. In this case, they used the Snyders' grief to finally obtain their goal - national media attention. Some of the slogans on the banners said “Thank God for dead soldiers” and “Thank God for 9/11.”

Al Snyder sued the church for emotional distress. He won 11 Million Dollars, which the court reduced to 5 Million. The church appealed the verdict arguing that the First Amendment protected its actions. The Federal Court in Richmond reversed the judgment on First Amendment grounds. In response to the protest at Matthew Snyder's funeral, 48 states passed laws restricting funeral protests. The fate of those laws also hangs on the Supreme Court’s ruling.

Last week's case addresses what the First Amendment protects. The First Amendment states:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

It's a fundamental principle of American law. As a writer and lawyer, I value the right to speak my mind and advocate for, at times, unpopular views or changes in the law. But should First Amendment rights be protected in all circumstances? The answer is no. Certain speech is not protected. And speech aimed at individuals rather “public figures” is protected to a lesser degree.

The questions before the Supreme Court then are:

(1)Should free speech be protected in this case at the cost of Mathew’s family’s dignity?
(2) What are the larger implications of restricting free speech?


The Justices appeared troubled by the case. Demonstrating personal sentiment usually, and necessarily, left behind before stepping on the bench, they suggested they would like to rule for the Snyders but were unsure they could. Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg said, "This is a case about exploiting a private family's grief." The Court seemed equally troubled by the fact that upholding the First Amendment in this context would leave the Synder with no remedy for the emotional harm the church caused.

The Court should issue its opinion before the term ends in June. And it’s likely that the First Amendment will be upheld and the Snyders will be left without a remedy. Protesters will be allowed to picket private funerals.

Is the law?

Yes.

Is it justice?

Well, I'll let you decide.

To those of us who've never lost a child it is hard to imagine the pain, and harder still for those who have suffered that loss to explain those feelings. Adding to this ache by having a group of angry protesters tell you that your child died because God is punishing the United States’ tolerance for homosexuality only unnecessarily adds to this anguish. I suspect if the funeral had been for one of the protester’s children, Rev. Phelps wouldn't have wanted his band of devotees there either.

Free speech should be protected. It should also be exercised with discretion. And a grieving family should be allowed to mourn in private and with dignity.

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Lucivar

Can a murder be a likeable character? In the Black Jewels series by Anne Bishop, the answer is yes.

Ms. Bishop creates an entirely unique system of magic and in doing envisions a new system of order and justice. If you harm someone, you incur debt to them. These obligations can, and generally are, repaid in pain inflicted before, or after death. Or both. And there’s a certain appeal to this idea of karmic debt and personal justice. During the course of the series, most of the characters knowingly take another sentient being’s life. Because Ms. Bishop’s world is so intricate, I’ll spend a bit of time over the next few weeks on each of the main characters and how she separates their actions from the antagonists’ schemes.

In perfect operation of this society, the Blood – magic users – are the realm’s caretakers. Blood queens are the final authority. Warlord princes serve and pledge themselves to queens who uphold the Blood’s code of honor. Service is given freely. At the start of the Black Jewels series, this social contract has been broken by a power hungry witch. As a result, warlords in her territory are corrupted or enslaved.

Which brings us back to murder. In the Black Jewels, murder isn’t against the law. How does Ms. Bishop create characters we love setting where one of the major principals of our society – do not kill – doesn’t exist?

She makes us love them. And they – or at least the good guys – all have a deeply rooted moral code.

THERE WILL BE SPOILERS SO READ ON AT YOUR PERIL.



In the first chapter of Daughter of the Blood¸ we meet Lucivar, a dangerous warlord prince and a sex slave. Another warlord, who led a failed slaved rebellion, is slathered with bacon grease and sealed inside the ruins of a rowboat for rats to gnaw to death. Hours later, Lucivar escapes his imprisonment and releases the man from the boat. The warlord asks why the queens treat them so badly. Lucivar replies that the queens have “no honor” because the evil among them now rule. He tells the man that all the good people are “destroyed or enslaved.” After comforting the man, Lucivar breaks his neck.

But Lucivar’s a protagonist.

And we like him. A lot.

Why?

Part of it is because what he does isn’t illegal. But that’s the smallest reason. Lucivar has a strong moral code. It’s not ours, because it doesn’t condemn murder, but it’s there.

The very first lines of the novel tell us he has no sympathy for the man. But Lucivar’s actions show that he does. He offers the man a shoulder, a promise that the queen who did this to him will pay, and then a quick death. Lucivar gives the man the only mercy he can. Lucivar prays for a queen he can serve and call friend.
His prayer is answered by seven-year old Jaenelle. She asks him why he killed the warlord. He replies that the man was suffering. Lucivar, the cold-blooded murder, is replaced by a Lucivar who is kind to and cares for the safety of a child.
What does the initial murder tell us about the world in general and Lucivar, in specific?

In ten scant pages, Ms. Bishop paints a rich picture of her world and shows us how very different it is from ours. The blithe cruelty of two bad queens, the one who sentenced the warlord to death and a principal antagonist who is introduced in a flashback, contrasts Lucivar’s mercy killing and sets up Jaenelle’s introduction. Ms. Bishop promises us that Jaenelle will be queen worth Lucivar’s service.

So why do we like Lucivar?

Because even though he’s a slave, he’s not broken. He still hopes and wishes for a good queen. Subjected to cruelty, he maintains his code of honor and basic goodness. Offering comfort both to a condemned man and a child.

Lucivar’s larger than life. Drugged, he maims the queen who imprisons him. Politics keep her from killing him. So the queen sentences him to a fate, in his mind, worse than death. The salt mines will corrode his wings – did I mention Lucivar wasn’t human. No? Sorry about that. Lucivar is Eyrien, a winged humanoid, and he’d rather lose his balls than his wings. As punishment, he’s assigned to work in the mines.
Rather than rats, despair gnaws on Lucivar. He bides his time as slime eats his wings. In a final act of defiance, he breaks free for a suicide flight through the mountains. We love him for that indomitable spirit. For fighting long past when a sane person would have bowed his head.

In addition to his strong moral code and spirit, Lucivar’s unfailingly loyal. Jaenelle stops the suicide run and saves his life. A life he then offers to her as his queen. In the second book, Heir to the Shadows, Jaenelle is drugged with the same aphrodisiac Lucivar was given in Daughter of the Blood. She must excise the drug through sex or violence. Lucivar takes her to the wilderness even though he believes Jaenelle will kill him in her insanity.

Lucivar, wings and all, is someone we want to be. He has all the qualities we admire: honor; compassion; integrity, and loyalty. Ms. Bishop’s sensitive portrayal makes us like, no love, a murderer.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

You have the right to remain silent, so speak up.

The Fifth Amendment, which among other things protects us from having to testify against ourselves, if a cornerstone of American law. Enacted as part of the Bill of Rights on March 4 1798 to prevent the misconstruction or abuse of the government's powers, the amendment states:

No person shall be held to answer for a capital, or other infamous crime, unless on a presentment or indictment of a Grand Jury, except in cases arising in the land or navel forces, or in the Militia, when in actual service in a time of War or public danger; nor shall any person be subject for the same offence to be twice put in jeopardy of life or limb; nor shall be compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against himself; nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; not shall private property be taken for public use, without just compensation.

On June 1, 2010, in a decision that might just crack the foundation, the United States Supreme Court held that to invoke your right to shut the heck up, you must specifically tell the police officer that's what you are doing. The case is Berghuis v. Thompkins, ___ US ____ (2010), and represents the further eroding of Constitutional rights and the landmark case of Miranda v. Arizona, 384 US 436 (1966).

Let's start with the basics. As anyone who's watched an American police show knows police officers must "read" a suspect his "Miranda rights" when he's arrested. Well, TV has it mostly right. The United States Supreme Court in Miranda determined that a suspect must be informed of his Constitutional rights - including the right against self-incrimination- before any custodial interrogation. This laundry list of rights includes the "right to remain silent." Now, to Mr. Thompkins's case.

In 2000 there was a shooting outside a Michigan mall. Samuel Morris died, and Frederick France was wounded. The suspect, Van Chester Thompkins, fled Michigan. He was arrested in Ohio a year later. Two Michigan officers traveled to Ohio, "Mirandized" Thompkins and questioned him for about 3 hours. Thompkins remained silent during most of the interrogation, but never specifically said he was asserting his 5th Amendment right to keep his mouth shut.

At approximately 2 hours and 45 minutes after it started, the following discussion occurred:

Officer Helgert asked Thompkins, "Do you believe in God?"
Thompkins made eye contact with Helgert and said, "Yes," as his eyes
"well[ed] up with tears."
Helgert asked, "Do you pray to God?"
Thompkins said, "Yes."
Helgert asked: "Do you pray to God to forgive you for shooting that
boy down?"
Thompkins said, "Yes." And looked away. _____ US ____ (2010).

Thompkins refused to confess in writing, and the interrogation ended about 15 minutes later.

The trial court allowed the presentation of the testimony. Thompkins incriminating statement - that he prayed to God to forgive him for killing Samuel Morris- was presented to his jury. He was then convicted of first degree murder, assualt with intent to commit murder and firearms-related offenses. He was sentenced to life in prision without the possibility of parole.

Thompkins appealed his conviction arguing that he asserted his 5th Amendment rights by actually staying silent and the officers had a duty to stop questioning him long before his confession. As a result, the jury should not have heard the interrogation testimony. Ultimately, the case came before the United States Court of Appeals for the Sixth Circuit. It reversed the conviction noting that staying silent for over 2 hours invoked the protection of the 5th Amendment. It found that Thompkin's "persistent silence" was "a clear and unequivocal message to the officers: Thompkins did not wish to waive his rights." 547 F.3d 572, 586 and 88 (2008).

In 2009 the United States Supreme Court agreed to consider the matter due to the Constitutional issues it presented. In its June 1, 2010 opinion, the Court found that Thompkins hadn't asserted his right to remain silent because - wait for it - he didn't say anything.

The Court previously found the right to counsel, a 6th Amendment right, must be unambiguously asserted in the case of Davis v. United States, 512 US 452, 459 (1994). So, statements like "I think I want a laywer" or "I should have an attorney" probably don't trigger your right to counsel. The Court didn't believe a different standard should apply to 5th Amendment v. 6th Amendment rights. And because requiring police officers to stop interrogations where the assertion of a Constitutional right is unclear "would place a significant burden on society's interest in prosecuting criminal activity" the Court held that the invocation of the right to remain silent must be clear and unequivocal. Thus, under Thompkins, a defendant wishing to keep his mouth shut MUST specifically say he's asserting his 5th Amendment rights and wants to say nothing before the officers have an obligation to stop questioning him.

Really?

While the Thompkins decision is in line with recent court cases, requiring someone to say "I assert my 5th Amendment rights against self-incrimination" before the Constitution protects him from further interrogation seems a bit farcical.

The average criminal defendant doesn't read United States Supreme Court decisions. He probably doesn't listen to any of the news channels or surf news websites for recent case law. What the Thompkins decision means is that a person going through the criminal justice system has to work to obtain the rights our founders believed were "self-evident." I, for one, will mourn the continued erosion of the procedural safeguards that protect us from our government.

Saturday, October 17, 2009


On November 1, 2008, Aisha Ibrahim Duhulow, a 13 year old Somali girl was stoned to death in front of a crowd of a thousand people. Her crime? She’d been raped by three men, and thus, committed adultery.

Is that Justice?

Wikpedia says “Justice is the concept of moral rightness based on ethics, rationality, law, natural law, fairness and equity. A conception of justice is one of the key features of society.”

The image of American Justice is a blindfolded woman holding a set of scales. The United States Supreme Court building and many other government buildings are graced by a relief of Lady Justice. The myth of Justice is that she judges based on the facts, not wealth, social position or other basis. Everyone who comes before her is equal.

But this is a lie.

Many large firms charge in excess of $400.00 an hour making litigation a luxury of the rich. A business can be crippled, or driven out of business, by litigation costs. Parties often settle cases without regard to merit because it is less expensive to settle than to litigate. Litigation has become a cost of doing business and as the economic situation worsens, more litigation will arise.
In the criminal law context, it is commonly believed that the rich get away with murder, sometimes literally, because they can afford the very best defense attorneys. Lawyers create loopholes or side shows, often with racial overtones, as substitutes for “reasonable doubt” or innocence. Those thrown into the system without fortunes are denied the full benefit of the system. They get court appointed lawyers who, while often as good as their peers, are only paid a fraction of what their peers command. The court appointed system is designed to encourage plea deals. Defendants and their counsel have to beg the court for the money to hire expert witnesses to assist in the defense.
The “System” of Justice does not work.

It’s a no wonder that science fiction and fantasy have made a comeback in novels, television and movies. As the world comes apart around us there is no better place to find and explore Justice than fiction. We all know Harper Lee’s classic novel To Kill A Mockingbird. But we explore what is just in science fiction and fantasy. There are we freed from the rigors of what “is” and introduced to what is “possible.”

Over the next several posts, I’ll be exploring the concept of justice in fantasy novels.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Opening Salvo

A trial lawyer by day, I spend a lot of time wondering exactly what the hell is it I serve. What is this concept we have of "Justice." I've been toying for years with starting an online magazine devoted to fiction and non-fiction loosely related to this topic. But I haven't.

The reality is between family commitments and a heavy trial docket, I don't have the energy to devote to such a massive effort. But the idea has nagged at me. And so, I decided it was time to at least make a minor start on the dream.

We'll see how it works. Thank you for stopping in.