Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
and Neg
AFF
1AC – Plan
The United States federal government should enact substantial
criminal justice reform by mandating a return to indeterminate
sentencing and federal parole.
1AC – Sentencing
Contention One is Sentencing –
The Federal Sentencing Guidelines have been a complete failure.
Since their inception, disparities in sentencing related to geography,
race, ethnicity, and gender have increased
Albert W. Alschuler, October 2005, [Julius Kreeger Professor of Law and Criminology,
University of Chicago., "The Normative And Empirical Failure Of The Federal Guidelines",
Stanford Law Review https://www.jstor.org/stable/40040253 //DMcD]
Introduction
When viewed from any coherent normative perspective, the Federal Sentencing Guidelines
have failed to reduce disparity and probably have increased it. Even on paper, these
Guidelines often fail to treat like offenders alike , and the Guidelines are worse in practice
than on paper. The luck of the judicial draw appears to determine the sentences offenders serve as much
as or more than it did before the Guidelines ; the region of the country in which an offender is sentenced
now makes a greater difference than it did before the Guidelines ; and racial and gender
disparities have increased. Part I of this Article emphasizes that sentencing disparity is a partly [*86] normative rather
than an entirely empirical concept. It shows how the U.S. Sentencing Commission's initial evaluation of the
Guidelines neglected this fact, proclaiming the Guidelines a success simply because judges in the post-Guidelines period
came closer to following them than judges did before there were guidelines to apply. Part II considers the disparities created by the
the
Guidelines. Guidelines principles that appear plausible in some situations may prove nonsensical in others. Moreover,
penalties set by the Sentencing Commission frequently fail to follow a coherent pattern . Part III
focuses on the kinds of disparities the Guidelines were designed to prevent - those resulting from the identity of the sentencing
judge, the region of the country in which an offender is sentenced, and the offender's race, ethnicity, or gender. It examines the
empirical evidence bearing on these questions, particularly that generated by the Sentencing Commission and its staff. As the
Commission's studies show, geographic disparity, the unequal treatment of racial and ethnic groups, and
disparities between the sentences of women and men have increased in the Guidelines
era. The Commission maintains that the amount of disparity attributable to the identity of the sentencing judge has declined, but
this claim is unconvincing. Although the [*87] Commission's figures show a small reduction of judge-created disparity in the
sentences initially imposed, they indicate no reduction of disparity in the sentences offenders ultimately serve. Prior to the
Guidelines, the United States Parole Commission, an agency with guidelines of its own, determined the release dates of prisoners
sentenced by judges throughout America. If this Commission succeeded in reducing interjudge disparity even moderately, it almost
certainly achieved greater success than that now claimed for the Federal Sentencing Guidelines. The Guidelines appear to
have failed at every job they were designed to do. Although the Guidelines' failure can be seen in the
Commission's statistics, these statistics do no more than skim the surface of the inequalities the
Guidelines permit and encourage. Judge-created disparities, for example, are less likely to appear as visible departures
from the Guidelines or as differing sentences within authorized Guidelines ranges than as differing applications of Guidelines
provisions. Researchers do not treat judicial disagreement about the factual and legal questions and the issues of characterization
that arise in Guidelines application as "sentencing disparity." Moreover, the
Guidelines have vastly increased the
sentencing power of prosecutors while reducing the ability of judges to check this power . The final
Part of this Article focuses on sentencing disparities that statistical analysis is unlikely to detect or measure - disparities "under the
radar" produced by judges, defense attorneys, probation officers, law enforcement officers, and prosecutors.
U.S. v Booker ruled that the Federal Sentencing Guidelines were
unconstitutional. However, the Federal Sentencing Guidelines are
effectively binding and implicate vagueness because in over 80% of
cases, judges still impose sentences within these Guidelines. Even
when judges depart from the Guidelines, they use the sentencing
range as the starting point to justify deviation
Veronica Saltzman, Summer 2018, [ J.D. Candidate at Harvard Law School, " Note:
REDEFINING VIOLENCE IN THE FEDERAL SENTENCING GUIDELINES, 55 Harv. J. on
Legis. 525", No Publication, https://advance-lexis-com.proxy.lib.umich.edu/document/?
pdmfid=1516831&crid=06383c78-335e-451f-9a6d-47abaf26def9&pddocfullpath=%2Fshared
%2Fdocument%2Fanalytical-materials%2Furn%3AcontentItem%3A5SST-NM80-00CW-22FH-
00000-
00&pdcontentcomponentid=143841&pdteaserkey=sr1&pditab=allpods&ecomp=kb63k&earg=sr
1&prid=6aef769a-bf15-44ac-aab9-8ab14f3e24bc //Weese]
The Federal Sentencing Guidelines are Effectively Binding The majority in Beckles
held that a federal system of discretionary sentencing is not amenable to vagueness challenges ,
reasoning that since discretion itself is not unconstitutionally vague, "the present system of guided
discretion" cannot be vague. Justice Thomas also stated that the Guidelines failed to implicate the "twin concerns" of
vagueness doctrine: "providing notice and preventing arbitrary enforcement." He noted that the statutory range provided notice, and
that the Guidelines do not allow judges to arbitrarily "prohibit behavior or … prescribe the sentencing ranges available." Thus, the
usual due process concerns present in "statutes fixing sentences" were absent from the Guidelines. Yet
there is good reason
to believe that the Federal Sentencing Guidelines are, at best, extremely influential
on sentencing and, at worst, effectively binding. As a result, the Guidelines should be held to the same
standard of clarity as any other binding rule. The Supreme Court has recognized on multiple occasions that the
Federal Guidelines constitute "not only the starting point for most federal sentencing proceedings
but also the lodestar." District courts begin the sentencing process by calculating the applicable
Guidelines range; the Guidelines thus produce an initial anchoring point for
sentencing. Indeed, federal judges impose sentences within the Guidelines --or below, at the
Government's request--in over 80% of cases. Even where a judge departs from the Guidelines , "'if the
judge uses the sentencing range as the beginning point to explain the decision to deviate [*533]
from it, then the Guidelines are in a real sense the basis for the sentence.'" The appeals process also illustrates the binding nature of
the Guidelines. A
judge who miscalculates the Guidelines range "commits reversible procedural
error," while a judge who levies a sentence within the Guidelines range is afforded a
presumption that the sentence was reasonable . For the defendant in Beckles, the Guidelines exerted a tremendous
impact on his final sentence. The district court would have sentenced the defendant to "between 33 and 98 fewer months in prison"
without the sentencing enhancements from the career offender Guideline. As Justice Sotomayor reasoned, "it was the Guidelines,
not just the statute, that 'fixed' Beckles' 'sentence' in every meaningful way." Rules with such weight must avoid unconstitutional
vagueness by providing adequate notice to defendants and avoiding arbitrary enforcement. B. Even if the Guidelines are "Merely
Advisory," They Implicate Vagueness Concerns Before Beckles, two circuit courts declared that advisory Guidelines could
not implicate vagueness concerns under the Due Process Clause. The courts made the following three arguments. First, advisory
Guidelines cannot be any more arbitrary than "unfettered discretion." Second, defendants cannot expect notice from the Guidelines
because the Guidelines do not require judges to impose any particular sentence. Third, a system uniquely defined by discretion
cannot implicate vagueness concerns because vagueness challenges would "upend [the] sentencing regime." Yet each argument fails
to acknowledge that confusing (albeit advisory) Guidelines
may [*534] be more harmful to due process
than the absence of Guidelines altogether. In her Beckles concurrence, Justice Sotomayor described the
distinction between "unfettered" discretion and discretion governed by vague and ambiguous guidelines. She noted that when a
judge sentences a defendant under a "purely discretionary regime," the judge does not use arbitrary factors but instead conducts a
"fact-and context-sensitive determination." In contrast ,
a judge sentencing a defendant using vague advisory
guidelines relies on confusing and "shapeless" rules that are "impossible [for the defendant] to
understand." Reliance on "an impenetrable rule" as the anchor for sentencing violates the implicit premise of due
process: "that the law must be one that carries an understandable meaning with legal standards
that courts must enforce." Vague and "shapeless" rules lead to arbitrary enforcement by judges
and lack of notice to defendants.
The study of legitimacy has a long history in the social sciences (see e.g., Weber’s [1918/1968] study of the legitimacy of power). With respect to the law,
researchers have examined how the public views the CJS in terms of fairness, justness, or
legitimacy. A useful definition of legitimacy is provided by Zelditch (2001), who argues that ‘‘something is legitimate if it is in
accord with the norms, values, beliefs, practices and procedures of a group’’ (p. 33). With respect to the law,
Tyler and Fagan suggest that ‘‘legitimacy is a feeling of obligation to obey the law and to defer to the
decisions made by legal authorities’’ (2008, p. 235). Indirectly, research has studied the perceptual legitimacy of the CJS by asking
about how people feel about specific actors in the system. Foremost among these studies are examinations of attitudes toward the police. For example,
some studies have asked citizens to report their perceptions of how well police are doing their jobs, how much citizens ‘‘like’’ the police, and how
satisfied people are with the police (Bridenball & Jesilow, 2008; Decker, 1981; Frank et al., 1996; 2000; Frank, Smith & Novak, 2005; Portune, 1972;
Rosenbaum et al., 2005; Tuch & Weitzer, 1997). Other studies have examined attitudes toward the courts, particularly the Supreme Court (see
Caldeira & Gibson, 1992; Flanagan & Longmire, 1997). Finally, some have examined legitimacy of the CJS at the macro
level (see LaFree, 1998; 1999). In general, with respect to the law, studies have shown that most people view the CJS as
legitimate (see Boynton, Patterson & Hedlund, 1968; Schuck, Rosenbaum, & Hawkins, 2008; Tyler, 1990). Certain criminological
theories either implicitly or explicitly link legitimacy to criminal/deviant behavior , but most early
theories did not focus on this concept. For example, some scholars suggested that those who turn to crime find the system to be ‘‘unjust’’ and that this
process is class related (see Cloward & Ohlin, 1960; Cohen, 1955). Cohen (1955, p. 132) explained how legitimacy may be related to
crime: ‘‘for the child who temporizes with middle-class morality, overt aggression and even the conscious recognition of his own hostile impulses
are inhibited, for he acknowledges the legitimacy of the rules in terms of which he is stigmatized. For the child who breaks clean with middle-class
morality, there are no moral inhibitions on the free expression of aggression’’ (emphasis added). Hirschi (1969) included as a causal factor in his theory
of delinquency the notion of ‘‘belief.’’ His
theory implied that delinquency is more likely among those who
reject the moral validity of the law. Research examining the relationship between legitimacy of the law and criminal behavior
became more prominent in the late 20th century. One of the first scholars to systematically study the effect of perceptions of legitimacy on behavior was
Tom Tyler (1990). Tyler argued from a psychological perspective that sanctions and agents who are viewed
as fair or just are more likely to elicit compliance on the part of the public. Tyler and Fagan (2008) link
legitimacy and compliance by suggesting that ‘‘[t]o the degree that people are motivated by legitimacy, people
cooperate because they feel it is the right thing to do, not because of material gains or loses (sic)’’ (p. 240).
Empirical research has supported this claim. In a large community survey in Chicago, Tyler (1990) found
impressive support for his predictions, persuasively showing that legitimacy toward the law is a major factor in
why people choose to commit crimes. Tyler’s work (among others) has continued to show how legitimacy is
linked to compliance and cooperation with authorities (Fagan, 2008; Tyler, 1997, 2003, 2005; Tyler & Fagan, 2008;
Tyler & Huo, 2002; see also Kane, 2005; Taxman et al., 2005). Similarly, research has found that those who felt they were discriminated against by the
police are more likely to report committing criminal acts (Eitle, 2002; see also Unnever, Cullen, Mathers, McClure, & Allison, 2009). Other research
has found that sanctions that are perceived as unfair are associated with increased
offending (Paternoster & Piquero, 1995; Paternoster & Simpson, 1996). This supports Sherman’s (1993) idea that sanctions are
more likely to provoke defiance (hence, criminal behavior) than encourage compliance if they
are implemented in an unfair manner. Finally, LaFree (1998) has shown that when the government and
law enforcement agencies suffer from a withdrawal of legitimacy , crime rates increase. Thus, the
theoretical and empirical literature overwhelmingly suggests that legitimacy is an
important factor in deviance and/or criminal behavior. Racial Differences in Perceived Legitimacy of the
CJS While many studies have demonstrated that overall, the majority of Americans view the police as legitimate (Eschholz et al., 2002; Tyler, 1990; but
see Fagan, 2008), 300 Race and Justice 1(3) certain research has uncovered variations in perceptions of legitimacy .
Tyler and Fagan (2008) suggest that lack of trust is more likely to be found in studies of the courts than the police.
In addition, research has found group differences in attitudes toward the CJS (see Schuck et al., 2008; Walker et
al., 2000). For example, a longstanding finding is that Blacks and other minority groups tend to be less
satisfied with components of the CJS, especially the police, than Whites (Jacob, 1971; Rosenbaum et al., 2005). This
finding is consistent across different areas/cities. Webb & Marshall (1995) argue that race is one of the most important
predictors of confidence in the police (see also Garcia & Cao, 2005; Hagan & Albonetti, 1982; Tyler & Fagan, 2008). In other words, research shows
that Blacks view the police as less legitimate than Whites—a finding that has profound implications for possible racial differences in deviant behavior.
Ethnographic work has shown that in the inner city, Blacks
often feel that the police and courts do not
represent them (see Anderson, 1999; Venkatesh, 2008). For the most part, both Blacks and Whites seem to be aware of disadvantages
associated with minority neighborhoods and ‘‘white flight’’ from minority areas has further depleted resources available to Blacks (see Emerson, Chai,
& Yancey, 2001; Harris, 2001; Krysan & Farley, 2002). Lack of resources or the
perception that the CJS better serves
Whites may lead to a withdrawal of legitimacy toward the law for some groups
(Anderson, 1999). Thus from this view, racial differences in perceptions of legitimacy may be tied more to ‘‘types of places’’ rather than ‘‘types of
people’’ (see also Cao, Frank, & Cullen, 1996; Dai & Johnson, 2009; Frank et al., 1996; Hunt, Wise, Jipguep, Cozier, & Rosenberg, 2007; Sampson &
Bartusch, 1998; Weitzer, 1999; Wu Sun, & Triplett, 1999). For example, Sampson and Bartusch found that meso-level factors (e.g., structural
disadvantage) explained racial differences in ‘‘dissatisfaction with the police.’’ This might be related to differential treatment by the police in certain
Many scholars have
areas (e.g., the inner city) and could help explain why Blacks have lower perceptions of legitimacy toward the CJS.
attributed racial disparities in legitimacy toward the law to differences in experiences (Eschholz et al.,
2002). According to Eschholz et al. (2002), personal experiences with the police tend to improve perceptions of legitimacy among Whites while having
the opposite effects for Blacks. Weitzer and Tuch (2005), analyzing a national survey, found that nearly half of Blacks report having experienced some
form of unfair treatment by the police (cited in Stewart, Baumer, Brunson, & Simons, 2009). Stewart et al. (2009) found that Blacks are more likely to
perceive racial discrimination by the police in White neighborhoods in which minority populations are growing. As mentioned above, several
studies have shown that Blacks perceive differential treatment on the part of the CJS (Browning et al.,
1994; Eschholz et al., 2002; Frank et al., 1996; Russell-Brown, 2009; Walker et al., 2000; Weitzer & Tuch, 2002). In a related vein, Browning and
colleagues found that Blacks were more likely to perceive being ‘‘hassled’’ by the police than Whites. Other studies, however, have found that
independent of experiences or contact with the CJS, minorities hold more negative views of the
system than Whites (Eschholz Rocque 301 et al., 2002). Certain research has also shown that Blacks interpret the same event (e.g., a high-
profile case) more unfairly than Whites (Eschholz et al., 2002; Wortley, Hagan, & Macmillan, 1997). Regardless of the reason, the research literature is
consistent that racial disparities across time and place exist with respect to feelings of legitimacy toward the CJS. The Connection Between Racial
Disparities in Criminal Justice Contact and Racial Disparities in Legitimacy The research reviewed above suggests p otential
connections
between racial disparities in criminal justice contact and racial disparities in feelings of
legitimacy toward the law. For example, research has indicated that minorities may be unfairly
targeted by the police (Cole, 1999; Smith & Visher, 1991) or receive sentences that are unduly harsh (Britt, 2000;
Johnson, 2003). These types of unwarranted disparities may, in part, lead to feelings of
illegitimacy toward the law on the part of minorities . In addition, legitimacy may be an
important link between racial disparities in criminal justice contact and racial
differences in behavior. To the extent that there are ‘‘behavioral’’ differences between racial groups that contribute to racial
disparities in criminal justice contact (see D’Alessio & Stolzenberg, 2003; Sampson & Lauritsen, 1997), part of the driving force for these differences
may be explained by legitimacy. For example,
lower levels of legitimacy, as discussed above, is associated with a
lack of compliance with the law.
traditional mechanisms like charge and fact bargaining is even greater in light of the Sentencing Guidelines . Although the
Guidelines were adopted as a means of addressing unwarranted disparity in sentencing, they have been largely ineffectual in meeting that goal.95 The Supreme Court has made clear that individual judges are best
suited to weigh disparities on a case-by-case basis.96 But the pipe dream of administering “uniform” justice has held sway,
reinforcing the influence of the Guidelines which rely on mathematical calculations at the
expense of fairness in individual cases. As judges, scholars, and even former prosecutors have
observed, overemphasis on the amount of loss often leads to sentences that are disproportionate
to the seriousness of the offense.115 Indeed, although several federal judges are quite outspoken about their disagreement with the Guidelines —
referring to them as arbitrary and having been “drawn from nowher e”97 — many, many more remain
reluctant to deviate from them. One federal judge recently admitted that she would not have
imposed a 360-month sentence, but she felt compelled to do so because the Guidelines called for
that sentence.98 In fact, because judges are still required to begin their sentencing analysis by
calculating the Guidelines range, there may be a psychological predisposition to sentence within
that range.99 It is also possible that the Guidelines have maintained their pervasive force because they represent
the path of least resistance. Within-Guidelines sentences are virtually immune from review on appeal, so judges who do not like to be
overturned can ensure a good record by sticking to the Guidelines .100 Others may cling to the
Guidelines because they are used to them. Most of the federal judiciary is made up of judges who began their tenure under a system in which the Guidelines were
mandatory, and they may find it difficult to divorce themselves from such a familiar crutch. But whatever their reasons or motivations for doing so, the fact remains that many
judges continue to adhere to the Guidelines, preventing any truly meaningful check on federal
prosecutors who can use the increasingly harsh Guidelines sentences to coerce defendants to
plead guilty. Economic Crimes As an Example of the Guidelines’ Overreach One of the most flagrant examples of how the
Guidelines call for the imposition of excessive sentences is Section 2B1.1, the Guideline that applies to economic crimes.
Section 2B1.1 has long been criticized for resulting in sentences that are grossly disproportionate to a defendant’s
actual culpability. Judges have referred to sentences under this Guideline as “patently absurd on their
face,”101 “a black stain on common sense,”102 and, “fundamentally flawed.”103 Because
defendants’ sentences are so inflated under the Guidelines, prosecutors have enormous leverage
in economic crime cases to force guilty pleas .104 Increased Penalties for Indeterminate Loss Amounts Although it is commonly referred to as the “fraud
guideline,” Section 2B1.1 covers a vast array of offenses and offenders, more than any other guideline. It determines the sentences for more than 300 federal criminal statutes and applies to offenses ranging from
Guidelines made up 12.2% of all defendants sentenced in federal courts .106 Despite the breadth of criminal conduct covered,
sentences under Section 2B1.1 are principally driven by a single factor: the amount of loss that
actually resulted, or was intended to result, from the offense.107 This factor has become
increasingly significant in enhancing sentences for economic crimes .108 The amount of loss is factored into a defendant’s total
offense level, which is one of the two variables for determining an ultimate sentencing range. When the Guidelines were first adopted, the amount of loss could result in, at most, a 13-level enhancement to a
the loss table was adjusted to add more categories of loss with higher and higher enhancements.109 Under the current Guidelines, the
defendant’s total offense level. Over the intervening years,
between 0-6 months and 15-20 years will be determined by a single factor. In cases where losses
are particularly difficult to calculate, prosecutors have even greater leverage to force pleas .123 This
consistent, upward ratcheting of the loss table is out of sync with the Commission’s initial purpose for economic crimes. Originally, the Commission sought to provide a short but definite period of confinement in
cases that had traditionally resulted in sentences of probation.111 Over the years, however, the amount of loss enhancements were inflated, not as the result of any empirical analysis suggesting sentences were too
low, but rather, in response to directives from Congress who were facing political pressure in the wake of major financial crises.112 The framers of the Guidelines settled on loss as the driving factor for economic
crimes because they believed it to be a reasonable approximation of the seriousness of an offense, and it was common to all covered offenses.113 But, while the amount of loss may have been an effective means of
selecting a sentence somewhere between probation and a few years imprisonment, as the upper range of sentences has risen, it has become far harder to justify basing sentences so heavily on this single factor.114
are disproportionate to the seriousness of the offense.115 Defendants are plugged into specific slots
along the broad spectrum of the loss table without any consideration for other factors that are
arguably more significant when measuring a defendant’s relative culpability, for instance, the
scope and duration of the offense, how much the defendant gained from it, or the defendant’s
motivation.116 In addition, individual defendants are frequently held accountable for all losses caused by
participants in the same scheme, even if the defendant was not involved in [their] co-
defendants’ conduct, did not intend for the losses to occur, and did not personally profit from them.117 A defendant’s subjective intent with respect to loss will only be considered
under the Guidelines if he or she intended more loss than what actually occurred, meaning intended loss can only increase a
defendant’s sentence, not lower it.118 What’s more, in the situation of an unsuccessful fraud — where no loss
occurs — intended losses can still increase a defendant’s sentence even if the fraudulent scheme is so outlandish that it never could
e federal district judge imposed a 20-year sentence on defendants who
have succeeded in the first place. For instance, on
used AOL email accounts to impersonate Buryatian nationals and Yamasee tribesmen seeking a
five billion dollar loan to rebuild a pipeline across Siberia .119 Unsurprisingly, the only person who was “defrauded” by the scheme was a
government informant. Even though the defendants had no chance of succeeding in the scheme and no loss could possibly have occurred, t he judge imposed a 20-year
sentence largely based on an intended loss of $3 billion . The Second Circuit reversed, finding that no legitimate investor would have fallen prey to
such an outlandish scheme. The concurring judge noted that “[e]ven if it were perfect, the loss guideline would prove valueless in this case, because the conduct underlying these convictions is more farcical than
dangerous.”120 Despite cases like this, the Guidelines permit sentencing judges to rely entirely on intended loss. Even when actual loss has occurred, loss calculations need not be precise or certain. The sentencing
preponderance of the evidence standard applies at sentencing.122 In other words, a defendant considering whether to exercise [their]right
to trial knows that, even if he decides to put the prosecution to its proof and is acquitted of certain charged conduct, he may still face an enhancement for that conduct at sentencing. In cases where losses are
particularly difficult to calculate, prosecutors have even greater leverage to force pleas.123 They may even use novel theories for calculating losses during plea negotiations to overstate the severity of a defendant’s
likely sentence.124 Lower-level members of a fraudulent scheme are more susceptible to these threats because they rarely know the full extent of the loss. Unless contrary information is presented at sentencing, a
sentencing judge is permitted to rely solely on the loss amount that the parties stipulate to in a plea agreement.125 Thus, few defendants will risk going to trial if they can secure the prosecution’s agreement to a
low loss amount by pleading guilty. In addition to these tactics,the government may also engage in sentencing entrapment . In such cases, the
government uses an undercover agent to investigate criminal conduct but then exacerbates the magnitude of the defendant’s conduct to boost the Guidelines calculation and create a sentence that will be high
enough to coerce a guilty plea. The government may do this by prolonging its investigation even after it has
sufficient evidence to obtain an indictment. This practice is entirely permissible in many federal Circuits because judges are unwilling to invade the government’s
discretion to investigate crimes.126 In other cases involving crimes like those subject to Section 2B1.1 — where sentences
depend so heavily on quantities involved in the crime — the government may also instruct its
agents to deliberately increase those quantities to in turn increase the applicable Guidelines
ranges that will apply. Overlapping Enhancements Double-Count the Same Conduct On top of the
enhancement for amount of loss, Section 2B1.1 contains 29 specific offense characteristics (“SOCs”) that call for
additional enhancements to a defendant’s total offense level .127 At first glance, the SOCs could be viewed as an attempt to more accurately
distinguish between the seriousness of different types of economic crimes. But the SOCs almost always aggravate sentences rather than reduce them. So more offense levels are piled on to sentences that are
already bloated and out of proportion with culpability because of the onerous loss enhancement. The SOCs are thus serving no distinct purpose other than to give prosecutors more leverage to threaten higher
sentences.128 Additionally, many of the SOCs involve factors that are already taken into account in the loss calculation itself. Frank Bowman — one of the drafters of the modern version of the fraud Guideline (and
now an outspoken critic of it)129 — has explained that the loss calculation was originally intended to serve as a proxy for multiple factors relevant to the seriousness of an offense.130 Over time, however, the
Commission added more and more SOCs to the Guideline but failed simultaneously to decrease the enhancements under the loss table.131 So
factors that were already incorporated into a defendant’s sentence through the loss
enhancement are now frequently double-counted.132 By way of example, the Guidelines stack additional offense levels on top of the loss enhancement
when the offense involves a certain number of victims.133 But higher loss crimes are already much more likely to include a large number of victims because they involve high losses.134 The same could be said for
the “sophisticated means” enhancement, which adds two levels where the defendant “intentionally engaged in or caused [] conduct constituting sophisticated means.”135 As losses are higher, it becomes far more
likely that the defendant will have needed to use “sophisticated means” to achieve them.136 The definition of “sophisticated means” does not provide much guidance on when the enhancement should apply:
“especially complex or especially intricate offense conduct pertaining to the execution or concealment of an offense.”137 The application notes provide only two specific examples, one of which is now included in
the text of the Guideline itself.138 This makes it ripe for use by the prosecution as leverage during plea negotiations.139 The SOCs can also overlap with each other and other Guideline provisions. For example,
Section 3B1.3 calls for a 2-level increase to the offense level if the defendant used a special skill.140 “Special skill” is not defined, so in many cases, both the sophisticated means SOC and the special skill SOC could
apply to the very same conduct. The Commission has generally acknowledged this phenomenon of “factor creep,” explaining that “as more and more adjustments are added to the sentencing rules, it is increasingly
difficult to ensure that the interactions among them, and their cumulative effect, properly track offense seriousness.”141 However, because the Guidelines do not counsel against applying multiple SOCs even when
they overlap, prosecutors can rely on them to threaten higher sentences if defendants refuse to plead guilty.142 Because the Guidelines are untethered from determinations of actual culpability, prosecutors have
the power to threaten sentences for economic offenders that are generally reserved for the most heinous of violent criminals. A most egregious instance of double-counting occurs in securities fraud cases involving
public companies. A small impact on a large public company can easily result in losses exceeding $20 million, and securities fraud will involve a large number of victims by its very nature.143 So even before
considering any SOCs, defendants in these cases are almost always facing offense levels in the high-20s.144 But because so many SOCs potentially apply in these cases, sentences can easily reach life imprisonment,
company convicted of securities fraud could receive: Base offense level, §2B1.1(a)(1) 7 More than $3.5 million loss, §2B1.1(b)(1) +18 Substantial
financial hardship to 25 or more victims, §2B1.1(b)(2) +6 Sophisticated means, §2B1.1(b)(10) +2 More than $1 million in gross receipts, §2B1.1(b)(16) +2 Violation of securities laws by officer of public company,
§2B1.1(b)(19)(A) +4 Aggravating role in offense, §3B1.1(a)146 +4 TOTAL OFFENSE LEVEL: 43 ( life ) As the above calculation illustrates, Section 2B1.1 can result in harsher sentences than those typically
imposed in cases of murder, kidnapping, and sexual abuse.147 Even if one were to argue that a multi-decade sentence is truly appropriate in a particular case, the Guidelines are so onerous that the sentencing
judge may be required to depart downward from the Guidelines range to reach that sentence.148 Because the Guidelines are untethered from determinations of actual culpability, prosecutors have the power to
threaten sentences for economic offenders that are generally reserved for the most heinous of violent criminals.149 Although they may be lenient when a defendant agrees to plead guilty, they exhibit no restraint
in seeking the highest sentence possible when defendants dare to exercise their right to trial.150 The Commission’s 2015 Amendments: A Tepid Attempt at Reform In a series of well-publicized cases following
Booker, a few federal judges flexed their newly-acquired discretion and spoke out against the absurdly lengthy sentences produced by the fraud Guideline. In 2006, Judge Rakoff of the Southern District of New
York rejected a Guidelines sentence of life imprisonment for a first-time non-violent offender accused of securities fraud and instead imposed a sentence of 42 months.151 In explanation, he noted “the utter
travesty of justice that sometimes results from the guidelines’ fetish with abstract arithmetic, as well as the harm that guideline calculations can visit on human beings if not cabined by common sense.”152 In 2012,
the Commission announced that it was beginning a multi-year effort to study sentences for economic crimes and that it intended to make reform to Section 2B1.1 a priority.153 Those efforts culminated in a series
of amendments to Section 2B1.1 that took effect in November 2015. The loss table was tweaked to account for inflation, the victims table was amended to focus less on quantity and more on victim impact, and the
definition of intended loss was rewritten to clarify that it is a subjective standard.154 Although these changes were welcome, most commentators agree that the Commission’s reforms did not go far enough, and
many predict that the amendments will have little real-world significance.155 By way of example, the Commission revised the victims table so that higher-level enhancements are applied only if the relevant offense
conduct caused “substantial financial hardship.”156 But, as one commentator has pointed out, focusing on victim impact will still favor prosecutors since most of the evidence will likely be in the form of hearsay,
and defendants will have no access Bradley Stinn, Friedman’s Jewelers, and the Trial Penalty As CEO of Friedman’s Jewelers, Bradley Stinn had led [their]company from a failing regional business with $40
million in debt to a thriving, national chain with over 700 stores throughout the country. Stinn was one of Friedman’s largest shareholders and was unswervingly devoted to its success during [their]eleven years
with the company. Unbeknownst to Stinn, Friedman’s CFO, Vic Suglia, and its controller, John Mauro, had been aiding one of Friedman’s vendors in a fraudulent loan scheme. When the SEC and DOJ began
investigating Friedman’s involvement in the scheme, they also uncovered questionable accounting practices that had allowed Friedman’s to overstate its earnings. The government brought criminal charges against
Suglia and Mauro related to the loan fraud and five accounting violations. Both admitted the charges and pled guilty. Although the government agreed that Stinn knew nothing of the loan fraud, it indicted him for
securities fraud because Suglia and Mauro’s accounting manipulations had allegedly resulted in misleading statements in Friedman’s public filings. The government offered Stinn a 5-year maximum sentence if he
pled guilty, but Stinn did not take the deal because he’d had no personal involvement in preparing the financial statements and said he would not be able to truthfully admit that he knew they were false. Suglia and
Mauro both testified against him at trial, and Stinn was convicted. Members of the jury explained after the trial that they had convicted Stinn because they believed he knew about one of the alleged accounting
violations and should have disclosed it. But they explained that they understood Stinn’s role in the offense to be minimal. The presentence report ignored this evidence and based its analysis on the facts alleged in
the indictment, even though members of the jury had admitted to having rejected most of those allegations. The presentence report calculated $100 million in losses and applied a host of specific offense
characteristics to reach an offense level of 48. The recommended sentence was 70 years. As a first-time offender who had already suffered significant losses from [their]own large investment in Friedman’s — and
who faced a restitution penalty on top of that — Stinn argued for leniency. Former colleagues, one of the jurors, and even a long-time Friedman’s investor who had lost money in the fraud wrote in support of
Stinn’s request. But the prosecution vehemently defended the Guidelines calculation and urged the court to impose a lengthy sentence. The judge ultimately sentenced Stinn to 12 years in prison. Suglia and Mauro
— who had actually manipulated Friedman’s accounting records and participated in the separate fraudulent loan scheme — were sentenced after Stinn. In stark contrast, the prosecution recommended no jail time,
and they were sentenced to probation. to that information before sentencing and no meaningful way to challenge it.157 Another commentator explained that virtually all high-loss defendants will still get at least
the 2-level enhancement for 10 or more victims, and many will still get a 4 to 6-level enhancements because it is likely that at least a few of their victims suffered substantial financial hardship.158 Ultimately, loss
continues to overwhelm other sentencing considerations, and the amendments did nothing to address the increasing number of overlapping SOC enhancements.159 The full impact of the Guidelines — absent
negotiated reductions — can only truly be tested if defendants go to trial. Thus, fewer trials masks the need for reform, keeping onerous Guidelines in place, which perpetuates prosecutors’ leverage to force pleas,
in turn decreasing the number of trials, and the cycle endlessly repeats. In rejecting more sweeping change, the Commission maintained that the fraud Guideline was not fundamentally “broken,” as some had
argued.160 But it reached that conclusion based on sentencing data that was overwhelmingly the result of plea bargaining. In other words, the Commission failed to consider how the Guidelines operate in the
abstract, absent the prosecution’s willingness to bargain away otherwise applicable enhancements.161 Because of that, the fraud Guideline remains a daunting tool in the hands of prosecutors. The Department of
Justice and U.S. Attorney’s Office, for their part, opposed many of the changes the Commission did make to Section 2B1.1, revealing a deep-seated unwillingness to relinquish the power to coerce pleas.162 While
they admitted that the fraud Guideline was imprecise, they simultaneously maintained their position that sentences for economic crimes were not harsh enough. For instance, in 2011, then U.S. Attorney for the
Southern District of New York Preet Bharara acknowledged that the Guidelines do not offer “meaningful guidance for differentiating among financial criminals and accurately gauging their relative culpability,”
but as a solution he proposed two new aggravating SOCs for insider trading offenses and a floor for mortgage fraud cases that would set a default loss amount even in cases where the victim banks did not actually
suffer any loss.163 In recent years, the Department of Justice has pushed for more and more SOC enhancements with the specific purpose of further increasing sentences for economic offenders.164 The result of
efforts to amend Section 2B1.1 reveals a flaw in the Commission’s procedures for internal reform. Although the Commission collects a vast amount of data each year on the application of the Guidelines and
Indeed, the paths of the plea offer and trial are complicated by the interaction of human and legal factors.32The
defendant, who
possesses direct evidence, might be factually innocent , factually guilty or incompetent to self-assess, e.g.,
suffering from a mental disease or defect, amnesia or drug or alcohol addiction, or simply
unapprehending of the significance of the event in the legal scheme. Every defendant shares the fear
of a wrongful conviction, whether they are in fact innocent or guilty, still both are entitled to
fundamental fairness. And without fairness, the strength of the prosecution‘s case and the availability
of excuses or justifications cannot be evaluated . Thus, the choice to plead guilty and waive the right to trial
might be of convenience, necessity, or inevitability. Indeed, the plea itself might be a legal fiction
made compulsory by legal realities .33 Plea bargains are essentially built-in leniency , the reward for judicial economy
and the minimization of risk for the accused. While trials have been called to task for their approach to factual analysis and the accuracy of
convictions, the
plea forestalls all criticism because the accused is allocuting or confessing voluntarily and the facts are
stipulated and re- scripted. So the question must be asked: Wherein
does justice lie when legal truth is
sacrificed to legal expediency?
As with human rights, nonhuman rights are based on fundamental values and principles of justice such
as liberty, autonomy, equality, and fairness. Rights protect against wrongs that we as a
society have deemed intolerable, such as detaining individuals against their will without
sufficient cause or subjecting them to mental or physical torture. All of human history, up to and including the
present moment, shows that the only way to truly protect human beings’ fundamental
interests is to recognize their rights. It’s no different for nonhuman animals.
Whether we’re talking about vulnerable human beings or nonhuman animals like our chimpanzee and elephant clients, le gally
enforceable rights are critical to helping individuals protect and , if necessary, regain their liberty
and dignity—especially in circumstances where they might otherwise be powerless to confront
the people or institutions responsible for depriving them of these vital aspects of existence.
As we at the NhRP take stock of the first half of 2018 and look forward to the months ahead, the
importance of upholding
fundamental values and principles of justice —for the sake of all beings—is very much on our
minds, as it might be yours, too.
plea bargaining had reason to shun the indeterminate sentence and to limit its growth. There are also various
ways to explain the introduction and success of organizations for the defense of the poor. Still, the evidence seems clear that public
defenders emerged at least in part because they promised to ease the course of plea bargains. We therefore must examine the
possibility that they have thrived in part because they fulfilled that promise. 1. The Indeterminate Sentence When examining the
interplay between the indeterminate-sentencing movement and the plea-bargaining system, we have to separate the
principles of the indeterminate sentence from its reality . Its principles, as I [*1045] argued in Part V, perhaps
actually aided plea bargaining. By suggesting that punishment should look forward and not backward, advocates of the
indeterminate sentence relieved judges of the strict obligation to learn all they could about the defendant's past crime before
imposing sentence - an obligation that they once had met by hearing evidence at trial. Moreover, the belief that, because judges
could not predict when a convict would be reformed, prison and parole authorities should decide the actual release date meant that
judges did not have to struggle to get the defendant's sentence exactly right. If the rough-and-tumble of the bargaining process
The reality of
produced a sentence that was other than ideal, prison and parole authorities could tailor it to fit more suitably.
the indeterminate sentence, however, if ever enacted according to the highest ideals of its advocates, would
have shrunk plea bargaining to insignificance . The purest adherents of the indeterminate sentence
thought that its indeterminacy should be complete . Once the judge sentenced the defendant to
incarceration, prison and parole authorities would release him when he had "reformed ," neither
earlier nor later, with no constraint imposed either by judge or by statute . Even in such a system, some amount
of plea bargaining might have persisted as defendants offered to plead guilty to secure probation rather than indeterminate
incarceration. But those
defendants whose crimes demanded that they serve time would have had no
incentive to plead, because both judges and prosecutors would have lacked the power
to promise a shorter term. It is probably significant, then, that no state ever enacted a
true indeterminate sentence. At the very least, "indeterminate" sentencing laws imposed a statutory maximum on
the length of incarceration, so that even an unreformed inmate at some point had to go free. The Massachusetts indeterminate-
sentencing law of 1886, the nation's second, provided that [*1046] inmates convicted of certain less serious crimes must go free
within two years and all others within five years unless the sentencing judge specified a longer term. Even such imperfect
indeterminate-sentencing provisions could have hobbled plea bargaining because they took a great deal of the power to dictate the
length of sentence from judges' hands. But another, more substantial departure from complete indeterminate sentencing left largely
intact judges' power to promise shorter sentences to defendants who pled guilty: Those states that enacted
indeterminate sentencing (of the imperfect sort just mentioned) simply made it an additional sentencing
option. Some states explicitly gave judges the choice to impose an indeterminate sentence or not, as they pleased. Others required
sentences to certain institutions to be indeterminate, but imposed no such requirement on sentences to other institutions. The 1886
Massachusetts law, for example, provided in seemingly mandatory terms that "when a convict is sentenced to the Massachusetts
reformatory, the court or trial justice imposing the sentence shall not fix or limit the duration thereof." But the law by no means
required judges to send convicts to the reformatory instead of the state prison or county house of correction or any one of several
other possible places of confinement. In 1890, in an editorial titled "Indefinite Commitments," the Boston Evening Transcript
complained that "some change in the right direction was made by the legislature of four years ago, but the law has not accomplished
what was hoped. It is said that the reform has not been carried out by the judges to the full extent which it was expected...." The
paper was right to claim that judges did not often make use of the indeterminate sentence . The records of the Middlesex
Superior Court show that in 1890, judges chose the reformatory for barely ten percent of convicts who served time - a figure that rose to twenty-two percent in 1896 before falling back to eighteen percent in 1900
and only twelve percent in 1910. These numbers [*1047] are perhaps especially low given that the state reformatory was conveniently nearby - in Concord, at the heart of Middlesex County. Although rarely used,
the Massachusetts reformatory perhaps in its small way proved useful to the plea-bargaining regime. In his 1906 commentary on the operations of the criminal justice system in Manhattan, Arthur Train
recognized the complicated relationship between New York's reformatory at Elmira, on which the Concord reformatory was modeled, and the plea-bargaining system. On the one hand, Train wrote, because "the
Elmira sentence is indeterminate, the defendant has nothing to gain by pleading." On the other, court officers who wanted to encourage guilty pleas sometimes told defendants of the "joys of Elmira." Despite the
uncertain length of a sentence to Elmira, therefore, some defendants perhaps preferred that option because they feared worse conditions elsewhere. Other defendants may have had geographical preferences - the
reformatory at Elmira (or Concord) might have been closer to family and friends than the state prison at Auburn (or Charlestown). In any event, as long as judges had no obligation to send convicts to Elmira or
Concord, then by adding this option to the mix, the legislature simply added one more axis along which judge, prosecutor, and defendant could cut a deal. In fact, although Middlesex judges exercised the Concord
option only rarely, the great majority of defendants who received a reformatory sentence had pled guilty. Only thirteen percent of those who went to the reformatory in 1890 had gone to trial and lost - a figure that
rose to thirty-one percent in 1896, but then shrank to eight percent in 1900 and a mere five percent in 1910. The corresponding figures for other institutions were almost always between two and five times as great.
From Train's description of Elmira and this evidence of sentencing practices in Middlesex, we may conclude three things: First, because indeterminate sentences generally did not appeal to defendants, judges and
prosecutors rarely found the reformatory option helpful in the plea-bargaining process, and the great majority of convicts served their time elsewhere. Second, when defendants did happen to prefer a sentence to
the [*1048] reformatory over one to another institution, judges were pleased to accommodate them in the interests of gaining a plea. And third, when defendants instead refused to plead guilty, insisted on their
trial right, and lost, judges rarely sent them to the reformatory. That is, judges generally did not delegate the measure of punishment to the authorities who controlled release from the reformatory, for those
authorities might not sufficiently tax the defendant for having burdened the court with a trial. Instead, judges usually punished defendants who lost after trial by imposing a more definite sentence: They sent them
for a specified term to another institution. With the reformatory enjoying but small popularity among Massachusetts judges, the legislature tried to advance the ideal of the indeterminate sentence in other ways -
first by instituting parole for state prisoners in 1894 and then by requiring judges to specify minimum and maximum terms to the state prison in 1895. The 1894 law made state prisoners eligible for release on
parole regimes as poor imitations because they merely permitted a limited reduction of an
otherwise fixed sentence. Yet of all regimes that approached true indeterminacy, parole surely was the most significant: By
1900, twenty states had adopted some form of parole, but only eleven had put in place a more nearly indeterminate sentence along
the lines of the Concord/Elmira model. With the 1895 law, the Massachusetts legislature tried to advance the simple parole system
one step closer to true indeterminacy. The law provided that "the court imposing the sentence [to state prison] shall not fix the term
of imprisonment, but shall establish a maximum and minimum term for which said convict may be held in said prison." It then
provided that the convict would be eligible for parole at any time after completing the minimum term. Again, the law
by no
means achieved true indeterminacy: Not only did the judge dictate both a floor and a ceiling for
every sentence, but the maximum terms defined by statute still constrained the judge's discretion . But
again, laws following this model spread across the nation , taking hold in twenty-three states by 1925. [*1049]
Even the limited indeterminacy introduced by these two laws might have inhibited plea
bargaining's progress to the extent that they lessened the judge's power to promise defendants a particular sentence. As
it was, however, the laws lost much in the translation from theory to practice and soon proved to be no more an obstacle to plea
bargaining than was the reformatory at Concord. As with the reformatory, Middlesex judges made little use of these
new indeterminate sentences. Although the state prison was the destination for nineteen percent of incarcerated convicts in 1890, before the laws took effect, that figure fell to
ten percent in 1896 and eight percent in 1900 before recovering somewhat to eleven percent by 1910. In their reluctance to impose minimum and maximum terms to the state prison, Massachusetts judges
followed New York judges, who reportedly spurned a similar sentencing option enacted in that state in 1889. When Middlesex judges did impose state-prison sentences under the new parole regime, they very
rarely did so in connection with plea bargains. In 1890, before enactment of the new laws, fifty-six percent of state-prison sentences followed guilty pleas. In 1896, with the laws in place, only fourteen percent did
so. These figures go some distance toward explaining the odd retreat in the overall rate of guilty pleas that I found in 1896. Yet by 1900, the rate of guilty pleas not only had recovered, but had advanced a good
distance. Eighty-one percent of state-prison sentences that year followed guilty pleas. Something must have changed. The change appears in the statute book. In 1898, three years after the legislature had required
judges to specify minimum and maximum terms to the state prison, it amended the parole law to provide that state-prison inmates "shall be entitled to release from said prison upon the expiration of the minimum
term" if they have observed all prison rules and were not punished for prison misconduct. For any state-prison inmate who behaved behind bars, the judge's sentence now dictated the exact date of release.
Notwithstanding the claimed indeterminacy of sentences to the Massachusetts state prison, parties engaged in plea negotiations therefore could predict the date of release with near certainty. My search has
boiled out of the state-prison sentencing scheme, plea bargaining returned and
advanced apace. [*1050] Evidence from many other states reveals a similar aversion to any parole scheme that approached
true indeterminacy. Like Massachusetts, New Hampshire required automatic release at the end of the minimum term for prisoners
who had not misbehaved behind bars. Pennsylvania's parole statute did not directly require release at the end of the minimum term,
but by commanding the relevant authorities to explain any decision not to release "in writing...in detail," the law probably achieved
the same result. In other states, even absent such statutory commands, decisions of parole boards became very easy to predict. In
New York in 1906, Arthur Train reported that a convict sent to Elmira to serve a supposedly indeterminate sentence "will be released
in fourteen months if his conduct appears to warrant it" - a figure he repeated a few pages later. The Prison Association of New York
claimed in 1916 that more than ninety percent of parolees in that state won parole either immediately upon completing their
minimum term or within one month afterward. Next door in New Jersey, a report of the following year put the point more directly:
In actual practice parole is granted as a matter of course at the expiration of the minimum term, except in those cases in which the
applicant has had his minimum term extended as a penalty for misconduct in prison… Thus, in
all the state institutions[]
is the aim of the indeterminate sentence defeated by the policy of the paroling authority . In 1937,
the Harvard Law Review complained in general terms that "the correctional benefits which should result
from imprisonment under an indeterminate sentence have often been lost by the mechanical
application of parole." And a modern scholar has concluded that "release at the earliest possible date was [in these early
years] a right rather than a privilege." The significance of such predictability is clear: "Indeterminate" sentences would have posed
no great obstacle to plea bargaining if negotiating parties could say with confidence when such sentences would [*1051] end. In fact,
in an odd way, a
parole system that embraced automatic release dates might have been the best of all
possible worlds for plea bargaining: Such a scheme permitted the parties to agree upon a sentence that sounded long
enough to satisfy the public's desire for harsh punishment, but in reality was short enough to entice the defendant to plead. Still, it is
not clear why parole boards should so quickly have abandoned the principles of parole and adopted a practice of nearly automatic
release dates. Sheer overwork must have played a part: A New York review committee found that during a twelve-month period in
1917 and 1918, the state's parole board met forty times to consider 1411 parole applications - or about thirty-five applications per day.
At a quarter-hour per case, the board could hardly make an intelligent individualized judgment about each prisoner's fitness for
parole. Parole boards in Massachusetts and Illinois and probably many other places faced similarly overwhelming dockets. Perhaps
such boards felt that the only fair [*1052] alternative in the circumstances was to adopt a rigidly defined early release date. Or
perhaps prison overcrowding demanded release at the earliest eligibility date. In either case, we see at work the same impulse
toward efficiency that helped power the plea-bargaining system. Judges did not depend entirely on early release dates and the
cooperation of parole boards to maintain the determinacy of supposedly indeterminate sentences. In Massachusetts, after the 1898
law change ensured release at the end of the minimum term for prisoners who did not misbehave in prison, judges attempted to
keep control of the release dates even of those inmates who broke prison rules and had to serve out their maximum terms. In 1900,
the average state-prison sentence in Middlesex County called for a minimum term of four years and a maximum term of 5.2 years.
The judges therefore rejected the advice of Warren Spalding, an advocate of the indeterminate sentence and a former secretary to
the state board of prison commissioners, who wrote in 1895 that to accomplish the goals of the indeterminate sentence, judges
should leave a margin of at least three years between the minimum and maximum terms of short state-prison sentences and a
margin of at least five years in longer sentences. By compressing the gap between minimums and maximums , judges
deprived
the parole board of almost all discretion in setting release dates . In 1910, Middlesex judges approached
closer to Spalding's target and imposed an average state-prison sentence of 5.8 to 8.2 years. Still, commentators in Massachusetts
and elsewhere continued to press demands that judges not squeeze all the indeterminacy out of minimum/maximum sentencing
schemes. As the Harvard Law Review wrote in 1937, "The history of indeterminate sentence legislation is not without attempts by
judges to [*1053] defeat the purpose of these acts by fixing the minimum term at slightly less than the maximum." Several states in
fact legislated specifically against this judicial avoidance tactic. It is of course possible that judges resisted the indeterminacy of the
new sentencing schemes merely because they resented the legislature's invasion of their sentencing power. Plea bargaining perhaps
benefited, therefore, from the fortuity that judges' pride happened to prefer a more definite sentencing structure. And for that
matter, it is possible that the nation's parole boards regularly released inmates at their earliest eligibility date only because it was
efficient to do so and not because such predictable practices facilitated plea bargaining. It is possible, in other words, that the link
between plea bargaining and the downfall of the indeterminate sentence is causal only in the sense that both served the interests of
judges and both served the interests of efficiency. Other evidence, however, suggests
a more direct and purposive
connection between plea bargaining and the receding ideal of the indeterminate sentence . We begin to
see a glimmer of such a causal link in a report on the Massachusetts parole board written by Professor Sam Warner of the Oregon Law School in the early 1920s. Warner focused on parole from the Massachusetts
reformatory. As we have seen, sentences to the reformatory came rather close to true indeterminate sentences. Judges imposed no minimum or maximum term, and hence no law required release upon expiration
of the minimum term. Warner found that in the exercise of its very broad discretion to set the date of release, the parole board gave a clear if modest preference to those convicts who had pled guilty rather than go
to trial. Although about eighty percent of those granted parole had pled [*1054] guilty, only sixty-seven percent of those not granted parole had done so. These numbers suggest that one reward for pleading guilty
may have been a readier release on parole. A far stronger causal link between plea bargaining and early release on parole emerges from a 1928 report on the Illinois parole system written by Dean Albert J. Harno
of the University of Illinois Law School. Harno and fellow members of a review committee "found that occasionally serious problems arise between the [Parole] Board and the state's attorney and even the trial
judge over representations made to a prisoner when his plea of guilty is secured." Harno condemned the practice of making "a promise to the [defendant] or [giving] an intimation to him that if he pleads guilty he
will be released, or is likely to be released, after a specified period of confinement." Harno quoted one prosecutor who frankly wrote the superintendent of the state's reformatory in reference to three young
inmates: Prior to sentence Judge...and I agreed that on a plea of guilty we would recommend parole on the minimum time, providing, of course, that the boys, or any one or more of them, had conducted
themselves in a manner to warrant parole. Other letters to the parole board followed - from the judge, defense counsel, police chief, and (again) the prosecutor - all relating or suggesting the same deal. One
defense lawyer noted that the judge and prosecutor "advised me they had never known of any case wherein the Parole Board had disregarded a joint recommendation from the State's Attorney and the Presiding
Judge." He added that "the State of Illinois will do these boys a great injustice if they do not admit them to parole now." Another lawyer on the same case wrote that "the State should in good faith try to carry out
that to which the State's Attorney and the Trial Judge pledged them in so far as they had the power to pledge them." Although Harno's study did not extend beyond Illinois, and although I have found no clear
"parole bargaining" in Massachusetts or other states, I suspect nonetheless that the practice was
evidence of
widespread. After all, by the time of [*1055] Harno's report, guilty-plea rates in the vast majority of American cities exceeded
seventy percent and almost every state had a parole law. There is one last piece of evidence - this one of a more modern
vintage - that suggests that the indeterminate sentence's demise may have proceeded directly from
judges' and prosecutors' determination to persevere in plea bargaining . Around the turn of the twentieth century, at least six
states, including California, adopted parole laws that approached close enough to a true indeterminate-sentencing scheme to raise a genuine challenge to the vitality of plea bargaining. In a certain range of cases,
these statutes deprived the judge of all power to measure the term of confinement to state prison. Instead, when a judge sent a convict to state prison, the parole board unilaterally set the date of release,
constrained only by the minimum and maximum terms imposed by law. Such a regime raised obvious obstacles to any plea-bargaining scheme: Not only did it leave judges powerless to promise a particular
release date to defendants who pled guilty, but it also disabled them from imposing a certain and harsher penalty on defendants who risked trial and lost. That is, even to the extent that judges or prosecutors could
have persuaded parole authorities to release convicts who pled guilty at their earliest eligibility dates - an action that might have suited the boards' interests in avoiding prison overcrowding or in developing an
easy rule of thumb for the treatment of most prisoners - it might have been far more difficult to persuade those same boards to penalize those convicts who did not plead guilty by keeping them beyond their first
release dates. In contrast, under a typical parole system, judges could punish recalcitrant defendants who burdened the court with a trial by imposing harsh minimum terms that, even when reduced by the amount
the parole law permitted, still penalized defendants for their poor choices. Despite these obstacles, California judges, prosecutors, and defense lawyers adapted their plea-bargaining tactics to this regime too - and
in ways that once again frustrated the goals of the indeterminate sentence. Lynn Mather's study of the operations of the Los Angeles County courts in the early 1970s shows that by that time, only six percent of
accused felons ultimately convicted of a crime ever went to state prison. Instead, the vast majority of convicts originally charged with felonies secured a mere misdemeanor conviction and either received probation
or served time in a [*1056] lesser institution, or both. The most important axis along which plea bargaining took place became the distinction between a state-prison term and no state-prison term. Mather reports
that when the charged offense called for mandatory state-prison time, plea bargaining often took the form of prosecutorial charge bargaining, for without a prosecutor's motion, the judge could not reduce the
charge to one that permitted a lesser penalty. But when the judge had the discretion to choose between imposing and not imposing state-prison time, plea bargaining tended to take place directly between the judge
and defense counsel by a process known as "chamberizing": The judge and lawyers would meet in the judge's chambers, where the judge could spell out or hint at the sentence she would impose should the
defendant plead guilty. Albert Alschuler reports another means of evading the California parole authorities' power to dictate the length of sentence. In the 1960s, when Alschuler observed court business in San
Francisco, defendants often pled guilty and were then sentenced to an indeterminate term in state prison. Instead of putting that sentence into effect, however, the judge would suspend it and impose probation
during the term of suspension. Then, as a condition of probation, the judge would impose a county-jail term. By judicial sleight of hand, a seemingly illegal jail term took the place of a seemingly mandatory state-
prison term - and all in accord with the law. Thanks to such ingenious devices, by the time California officially abandoned its experiment with the indeterminate sentence in 1976, there was very little
indeterminacy left. This brief sketch of the indeterminate sentence's slide from prominence suggests that several different causal strands may have tied plea bargaining's continued rise to the indeterminate
sentence's demise. Judges, prosecutors, and defense lawyers, first of all, may have evaded the indeterminacy imposed by the new laws by bargaining for definite sentences at certain institutions rather than
indefinite sentences at others. Second, some state legislatures acted to require or encourage release on parole at the earliest opportunity and thus restored the predictability that plea bargaining needed to thrive.
Third, judges may have erased the [*1057] indeterminacy from minimum and maximum sentences by setting the minimum term close to the maximum and thereby contriving predictable sentences that could lure
defendants into pleading guilty. Fourth, parole officials may have rewarded those convicts who pled guilty with earlier release dates and hence may have created a direct incentive for defendants to strike plea
bargains. Fifth, some judges and prosecutors appealed to parole authorities to stand by promises made in the course of plea negotiations that the defendant would walk free on a certain date. Finally, a single cause
- overcrowding in the criminal justice system - may have promoted both the efficiency of plea bargaining and the nearly automatic decisions of some parole boards to release convicts at their earliest eligibility date,
This multiplicity of mechanisms, each supported by
a practice that in turn facilitated plea bargaining by making release dates more predictable.
evidence from separate sources, makes it highly unlikely that the historical correlation between
plea bargaining's rise and the indeterminate sentence's fall was simple coincidence . By various
devices, those forces that impelled plea bargaining's progress also compelled that the
indeterminate sentence make way.
Substantial evidence links incarceration with poor health outcomes. In the United States, incarceration
not only punishes through confinement, but is also associated with a range of adverse health
effects that last far beyond the period of confinement. Longitudinal studies have documented
strong, pervasive links between incarceration and multiple adverse health indicators across the
lifespan, even after considering health before incarceration. Compared with individuals who have never been incarcerated, current and
former inmates have significantly higher rates of communicable diseases (including sexually
transmitted infections, HIV, hepatitis C, and tuberculosis); chronic health conditions (such as hypertension, diabetes, arthritis,
and asthma); and psychiatric and substance use disorders. 20 Most adult inmates are released
from correctional facilities with more chronic medical problems than they had before admission.
13 According to the U.S. Department of Justice, one-third of illness-related deaths in state prisons from 2001 to 2004 (the latest years for which this
statistic was reported) resulted from conditions not present at the time of admission.22 The five leading causes of death in state prisons during these
years were heart disease, cancer, liver disease, AIDS, and suicide.22 Juvenile incarceration also predicts a range of adverse health outcomes in
adulthood, including worse general health; suicidal thoughts, intentions, and behavior; substance abuse; greater physical and psychological limitations;
and premature death.23-27 Examining mortality among New York state adult parolees over a 10-year period, a
2015 study found
that each year spent in prison corresponded with a two-year reduction in life
expectancy. 28 In the two weeks following release from prison, the mortality rate of former
inmates is approximately 13 times higher than that of the general population , primarily due to drug
overdose.29 Rates of suicide among those who are incarcerated are 60 percent higher than rates in the national population.30 Although incarceration
has repeatedly been correlated with poor health outcomes, researchers face the challenge of distinguishing the effects of incarceration from the effects
of cumulative health-damaging life experiences before incarceration. Adult and juvenile offenders—who are largely from marginalized communities
that suffer high rates of disease and premature death3 —enter correctional facilities with multiple health problems.31,32 Few studies, moreover, have
examined the direct health effects of the experience of incarceration itself and of conditions in different types of facilities (public prison, private prison,
jail, or juvenile facilities). Despite these limitations, current
scientific evidence documents profoundly harmful
effects of both juvenile and adult incarceration on the health of inmates throughout their
lives.21,32 Prison and jail conditions directly compromise inmate health in many ways. How can the
links between incarceration and poor health be explained, independent of the health damage that inmates are likely to have experienced before being
incarcerated? U.S.
prisons, jails, and juvenile correctional facilities are unhealthy environments,
where inmates are exposed to a wide range of conditions that are detrimental to physical and
mental health.33,34 When inmates are released, their health can be further compromised by societal stigmatization and denial of
opportunities for gainful employment, stable housing, education, and other conditions that promote good health.23 Because prisoners are more likely
than never-incarcerated individuals to have experienced unhealthful living conditions prior to confinement, incarceration could, at least in theory,
improve health for those confined. For example, correctional facilities can provide respite from toxic home and neighborhood environments, regular
and healthy meals, reduced access to drugs and alcohol, and increased access to medical care and treatment for substance dependence.3,21
Correctional facilities are the only places in the United States where health care is constitutionally mandated, thus presenting a unique opportunity for
individuals to receive medical care that they might not receive otherwise. Quality of care varies considerably across facilities, however, and
often fails—sometimes dramatically—to meet community standards of care.33,35 The increase in
the size of the incarcerated population has resulted in a scarcity of medical staff
and resources; substance abuse treatment in particular has consistently failed to meet demand.33 In at least 35
states, inmates in state or county correctional facilities must make copayments —some as high as $10036—to access medical
treatment. This can be a major deterrent to seeking care for inmates who typically earn $0–$4.90
per hour if they are actually able to secure employment while incarcerated.37 In a 2017 survey of inmates across 83 prisons in 21 states, 63 percent
of prisoners reported being denied needed health care and nearly 40 percent reported having to wait weeks or months to receive needed care.38 For
female prisoners, poor access to feminine hygiene products and pregnancy-related care can be
significant threats to health equity, as can lack of staff who are trained to provide women-specific trauma treatment.39 Correctional
environments are often so inherently unhealthy that even the most well-intended efforts to provide adequate health care are ineffective.33
Factors contributing to unhealthy conditions include substandard meals; overcrowding;
violence and sexual assault; and solitary confinement. Within prisons, jails, and juvenile correctional facilities , living conditions are
often inhumane and degrading. Prison meals often are unsanitary and nutritionally inadequate,33 putting inmates at greater
risk of food-borne illness,40 unhealthy weight gain, and chronic diseases such as hypertension Male and female prisoners are 18 and 27 times more
likely to experience physical assault than males and females in the general population.47 and heart disease. 41
Many U.S. prisoners
report having been denied meals or given too little food, being served food in containers labeled
“not for human consumption,” and/or being served moldy, spoiled, or insect-infested foods .38
High incarceration rates make overcrowding a pervasive problem that can affect
every aspect of an inmate’s life, greatly amplifying the stresses of confinement. 33 In
2016, the Federal Bureau of Prisons reported operating federal prisons at 114 percent of capacity overall.1 That same year, 14 state prison systems and
17 percent of U.S. jails were operating at or over capacity.1,2 Twenty percent of juvenile facilities were operating at or over capacity in 2014.42 Many
inmates are double- or triple-bunked in cells originally intended for one or in rooms designed to be common spaces. Overcrowding
jeopardizes cleanliness and standards of hygiene, often compromising air quality
and sanitation levels. The growing number of inmates has corresponded with
longer waiting lists for educational, vocational, and drug abuse treatment
programs and reduced recreational and work opportunities, contributing to
greater inmate idleness and subsequent tension and violence .43 Violence and sexual
assault are pervasive features of incarceration. In 2011 and 2012, 4 percent of all prison inmates and 3.2 percent of all jail
inmates (totaling approximately 80,600 inmates nationwide) reported experiencing sexual victimization by either another inmate, staff, or both during
the prior year.44 Nearly 10 percent of youth in state juvenile correctional facilities in 2012 reported being sexually assaulted in the facility.34 Female
inmates and inmates with mental disorders are at particularly high risk of sexual assault.45 Although there are no nationwide surveys measuring rates
of physical violence in correctional facilities, research suggests it is common. 46
Examining the prevalence of inmate-on-
inmate and staff-on-inmate physical victimization in 14 adult prisons over a six-month period,
one study found that male and female prisoners are 18 and 27 times more likely to experience
physical assault than males and females in the general population. 47 In a nationally representative survey of
incarcerated youth, 43 percent of children in juvenile correctional facilities or camp programs “said
they were somewhat or very afraid of being physically attacked, while 45 percent reported that
staff use force when they don’t need to.”34 Both violence and sexual assault are likely to be underreported. Fear of retaliation by
other inmates and/or staff often discourages inmates from reporting instances of sexual and physical victimization to authorities.46 By one estimate,
only 8 percent of all prisoners who experience sexual assault report their victimization.48 Solitary confinement also presents a threat to inmate health.
With overcrowding, correctional facilities have become increasingly reliant on
solitary confinement as a form of inmate control and punishment. Solitary confinement refers to
imprisonment in an isolated cell, often for 23 hours a day, with varying restrictions on exercise, showers, reading materials, food and toiletry purchases,
solitary
visitation, interpersonal contact, and participation in educational and vocational activities offered to inmates.49 Sometimes,
confinement is not a part of the sentencing of an offender sanctioned by a judge, but is applied
as an administrative measure by prison officials in response to inmate infractions.50 In Illinois, 85 percent of inmates who had been
Inmates often
held in solitary confinement over a one-year period had been sent there for minor infractions such as using abusive language.51
are placed in solitary confinement for months or even years, with many county jurisdictions allowing prisoners to be
confined in isolation indefinitely.50 Decades of research on solitary confinement have consistently
documented its adverse psychological effects, including anxiety, insomnia, paranoia,
hallucinations, cognitive dysfunction, aggression, loss of impulse and emotional control, self-
harm, and suicide.52 While no federal reporting system tracks how many inmates are isolated at a given time, one study estimated that, in
the fall of 2014, between 80,000 and 100,000 prisoners were being held in isolation, not including persons confined in jails, juvenile facilities, or
military and immigration detention centers.49 Reports on individual facilities also reveal egregious overuse of juvenile solitary confinement, often
without constitutionally-mandated due process protections.34 In the Rikers Island correctional facility in New York City, for example, three-fourths of
the
the 140 adolescents held in solitary confinement in July 2013 were mentally ill.53 Along with extremely high rates of incarceration,
overuse and lack of regulation of solitary confinement makes the U.S. incarceration system
particularly brutal and inhumane by international standards. 50 The United Nations Human Rights
Committee, the Committee Against Torture, and the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Torture all have condemned solitary confinement practices
in the United States, stating that “they may amount to cruel, inhumane or degrading treatment in violation of international human rights law.”54 The
health consequences of incarceration persist long after release. The most serious health consequences of incarceration may not manifest until after
release. Individuals treated for chronic health conditions while incarcerated often face obstacles to accessing care after leaving the justice system. Many
are released without medications or scheduled follow-up appointments in the community, and many suffer from mental health or substance abuse
problems that can prevent them from keeping up with treatment.13 Only 19 percent of correctional facilities provide HIV-infected inmates with CDC-
recommended discharge services, which include making an appointment with a community health provider, assisting with enrollment in Medicaid or
the AIDS Drug Assistance Program, and providing a copy of the medical record and a supply of HIV medications.56 During the first two weeks after
release, former prisoners experience exceptionally high mortality rates, particularly from drug overdose, cardiovascular disease, homicide, and
suicide.57,58 The stigma associated with having a criminal record can permanently diminish a person’s employment and housing opportunities. Only
55 percent of former prisoners have any earnings during the first year after release, and those who find employment often are relegated to low-wage
jobs with poor benefits and no health insurance.11 Precarious employment or low income hinders an individual’s ability to afford rent, health
insurance, medical care, healthy food, and basic utilities such as heat and electricity—all of which can adversely affect health. Individuals facing housing
instability or outright homelessness are at increased risk of adverse health consequences including illnesses due to, or aggravated by, exposure to
inclement weather and/or violence. Exposures to health-harming conditions are further exacerbated in many states where former inmates are denied
educational loans, government-subsidized housing, food stamps, and other social services.13,23 For juveniles, even short periods of incarceration can
have severe long-term consequences. Youths who have experienced confinement are less likely to return to school in the future; many who do resume
their schooling are classified as having a disability due to a behavioral or social disorder, which reduces the likelihood that they will graduate.59
Holding other variables constant, being arrested between ages 13 and 15 lowers a person’s chances of enrolling in college by 35 percent and increases
his or her chances of being on welfare at ages 18 to 20 by 14 percent.60 The limits and barriers faced by individuals following incarceration can create
cycles of offending and reoffending, in which former inmates too often become career offenders with limited opportunities outside of crime. In three
national studies examining recidivism during the 1980s to 2000s, nearly twothirds of ex-prisoners were rearrested within three years after release.61
Among youth who have been released from detention centers, approximately 70 to 80 percent are rearrested within two or three years.62 12 |
A household
Copyright 2019 Robert Wood Johnson Foundation Mass incarceration harms the health of families, communities, and the nation.
member’s incarceration can have drastic consequences for a family’s health and well-being. The
majority of incarcerated parents were their households’ primary earners prior to sentencing but are unable to provide economic support to their
children and partners while serving time in prison or jail.12 Incarceration of a family member thus reduces a
household’s economic resources while at the same time increasing household expenses due , for
example, to legal fees and the costs of phone calls and visits to correctional facilities.63 As a result, families with an incarcerated
family member are significantly more likely to live in poverty64 and experience homelessness65
than other families, diminishing their chances for economic mobility and good health. Additionally, among women the stress of having an
incarcerated partner is associated with a higher risk of mental disorders and physical health problems.63,66 The high incarceration-related likelihood
of relationship dissolution or divorce can further increase the risks of family instability and child neglect.63,66 The relationship between a parent and
child can suffer significantly as a result of parental incarceration. The loss of care, companionship, nurturance, and stability can create chronic stress
for the child.i A rich body of longitudinal and other studies has documented numerous adverse effects of parental incarceration on children,
independent of many other factors known to influence outcomes. For example, paternal incarceration is associated with significant increases in
aggressive behaviors and attention deficits in early childhood.67 Having an incarcerated father predicts poorer educational outcomes and lower
likelihood of college enrollment, while research on the effect of maternal incarceration on children’s educational outcomes is inconclusive.12,68 When
mothers are incarcerated, children often are placed in the foster-care system,69 creating significant disruption that may adversely affect children’s
development and lifelong health.70 Parental incarceration in childhood increases children’s risk of drug abuse, criminality, and delinquency as they
mature68 and predicts a wide range of health problems—including poor self-rated health, HIV/AIDS, asthma, high cholesterol, migraines, depression,
PTSD, and anxiety—during young adulthood.71 Children of incarcerated parents are also far more likely than other children to be incarcerated
themselves as juveniles and later in life.72 Not only are families affected, but whole communities can
suffer when rates of incarceration are high. For example, the perpetual cycling of people with
high rates of communicable diseases between correctional facilities and the community poses
significant public health risks. The justice system’s failure to ensure continuity of medical care for released inmates encourages
the spread of HIV, hepatitis C, tuberculosis, and other infectious diseases.13 The removal of high numbers of men in their 20s,
30s, and 40s can cripple (weaken) economic mobility in neighborhoods already fraught with
concentrated poverty.73 Taking into account individual- and other neighborhood-level risk factors, neighborhoods with high
incarceration rates have been shown to have higher than predicted rates of psychiatric disorders ;
the association between neighborhood levels of incarceration and mental illness have been observed both for individuals who have been incarcerated
and for those who have not.74
There are instances when indeterminate sentencing can result in small increases in prison populations. For example, revocation of
parole, occurring when offenders violate conditions of parole, results in some offenders being returned to prison. Even so, parole
solution to
violators account for an insignificant number of people in prison. Thus some experts suggest that one
overcrowding in prison is the release of prisoners before the end of their sentences and this is best
affected through indeterminate sentences and parole (Casper 1984).
Indeterminate sentencing continues to be widely debated. Proponents of this type of sentencing stress the idea that
indeterminate sentencing leads to less recidivism due to more individually focused
rehabilitation during the period an inmate is incarcerated. Indeterminate sentencing is also proposed as a
solution to persistent overcrowding in prison as it allows for the early release of inmates
who have met the minimum prison-time requirement in sentences and demonstrate evidence of
rehabilitation. To improve the likelihood of successful parole, many parolees are paroled to halfway houses, such
as community rehabilitation centers, where they are provided a more structured reentry to society. Indeterminate
sentences, no matter what type, were created for the same goal, individualized sentences. It is generally
assumed that treatment needs of each person differ ; thus, judges have discretion with indeterminate sentencing to
tailor sentences to meet the needs of each offender. Further, agents of parole have authority to evaluate offenders’ progress toward
rehabilitation, grant early release on parole, and provide continued treatment and supervision for offenders serving the remainder of
indeterminate sentences in the community (Pennel 2010).
and federal legislatures hugely increased the penalties for criminal violations . In New York, for example, the socalled
“Rockefeller Laws,” enacted in 1973, dictated a mandatory minimum sentence of fifteen years’ imprisonment for selling just two ounces (or possessing four ounces) of heroin,
cocaine, or marijuana. In addition, in response to what was perceived as a tendency of too many judges to impose too lenient sentences, the new, enhanced sentences were
frequently made mandatory and, in those thirtyseven states where judges were elected, many “soft” judges were defeated and “tough on crime” judges elected in their place. At
the federal level, Congress imposed mandatory minimum sentences for narcotics offenses, gun offenses, child
pornography offenses, and much else besides. Sometimes, moreover, these mandatory sentences were required to be imposed consecutively. For example, federal law prescribes
a mandatory minimum of ten years’ imprisonment, and a maximum of life imprisonment, for participating in a conspiracy that distributes five kilograms or more of cocaine. But
if the use of a weapon is involved in the conspiracy, the defendant, even if she had a lowlevel role in the conspiracy, must be sentenced to a mandatory minimum of fifteen years’
imprisonment, i.e., ten years on the drug count and five years on the weapons count. And if two weapons are involved, the mandatory minimum rises to forty years, i.e., ten years
on the drug count, five years on the first weapons count, and twentyfive years on the second weapons count—all of these sentences being mandatory, with the judge having no
mandatory sentencing guidelines designed to avoid “irrational” sentencing disparities . Since these
guidelines were not as draconian as the mandatory minimum sentences, and since they left judges with some limited discretion, it was not perceived at first how, perhaps even
more than mandatory minimums, such a guidelines regime (which was enacted in many states as well) transferred power over sentencing away from judges and into the hands
were causing the virtual extinction of jury trials in federal criminal cases . Thus, whereas in 1980, 19 percent of all
federal defendants went to trial, by 2000 the number had decreased to less than 6 percent and by 2010 to less than 3 percent, where it has remained ever since. The reason for
the guidelines, like the mandatory minimums, provide prosecutors with weapons to
this is that
bludgeon defendants into effectively coerced plea bargains . In the majority of criminal cases, a defense lawyer only
meets her client when or shortly after the client is arrested, so that, at the outset, she is at a considerable informational disadvantage to
the prosecutor. If, as is very often the case (despite the constitutional prohibition of “excessive bail”), bail is set so high that the client is detained, the defense lawyer
has only modest opportunities, within the limited visiting hours and other arduous restrictions imposed by most jails, to interview her client and find out his version of the facts.
The prosecutor, by contrast, will typically have a full police report, complete with witness interviews
and other evidence, shortly followed by grand jury testimony, forensic test reports, and follow up
investigations. While much of this may be onesided and inaccurate—the National Academy of Science’s recently released report on the unreliability of eyewitness
identification well illustrates the danger—it not only gives the prosecutor a huge advantage over the defense counsel but also makes the prosecutor confident, maybe
few days after the arrest, meets with the overconfident prosecutor, who makes clear that, unless
the case can be promptly resolved by a plea bargain, [they] intend to charge the defendant with
the most severe offenses he can prove. Indeed, until late last year, federal prosecutors were under orders from a series of attorney generals to
charge the defendant with the most serious charges that could be proved—unless, of course, the defendant was willing to enter into a plea bargain. If, however, the defendant
wants to plead guilty, the prosecutor will offer him a considerably reduced charge—but only if the plea is agreed to promptly (thus saving the prosecutor valuable resources).
Otherwise, he will charge the maximum, and, while he will not close the door to any later plea bargain, it will be to a higherlevel offense than the one offered at the outset of the
case. In this typical situation, the prosecutor has all the advantages. He knows a lot about the case (and, as noted, probably feels more confident about it than he should, since he
has only heard from one side), whereas the defense lawyer knows very little. Furthermore, the prosecutor controls the decision to charge the defendant with a crime. Indeed, the
law of every US jurisdiction leaves this to the prosecutor’s unfettered discretion; and both the prosecutor and the defense lawyer know that the grand jury, which typically will
hear from one side only, is highly likely to approve any charge the prosecutor recommends. But what really puts the prosecutor in the driver’s seat is the fact that he—
because of mandatory minimums, sentencing guidelines (which, though no longer mandatory in the federal system, are still
widely followed by most judges), and simply [their] ability to shape whatever charges are brought—can
effectively dictate the sentence by how [they] publicly describes the offense. For example, the prosecutor can agree
with the defense counsel in a federal narcotics case that, if there is a plea bargain, the defendant will only have to plead guilty to the personal sale of a few ounces of heroin,
which carries no mandatory minimum and a guidelines range of less than two years; but if the defendant does not plead guilty, he will be charged with the drug conspiracy of
which his sale was a small part, a conspiracy involving many kilograms of heroin, which could mean a tenyear mandatory minimum and a guidelines range of twenty years or
more. Put another way, it is the prosecutor, not the judge, who effectively exercises the sentencing power, albeit cloaked as a charging decision. The defense lawyer understands
this fully, and so she recognizes that the best outcome for her client is likely to be an early plea bargain, while the prosecutor is still willing to accept a plea to a relatively low level
offense. Indeed, in 2012, the average sentence for federal narcotics defendants who entered into any kind of plea bargain was five years and four months, while the average
sentence for defendants who went to trial was sixteen years. Although under pressure to agree to the first plea bargain offered, prudent defense counsel will try to convince the
prosecutor to give her some time to explore legal and factual defenses; but the prosecutor, often overworked and understaffed, may not agree. Defense counsel, moreover, is in
no position to abruptly refuse the prosecutor’s proposal, since, under recent Supreme Court decisions, she will face a claim of “ineffective assistance of counsel” if, without
consulting her client, she summarily rejects a plea bargain simply as a negotiating ploy. Defense counsel also recognizes that, even if she thinks the plea bargain being offered is
unfair compared to those offered by other, similarly situated prosecutors, she has little or no recourse. An appeal to the prosecutor’s superior will rarely succeed, since the
superiors feel the need to support their troops and since, once again, the prosecutor can shape the facts so as to make his superior find his proposed plea acceptable. And
there is no way defense counsel can appeal to a neutral third party , the judge, since in all but a few jurisdictions, the
judiciary is precluded from participating in plea bargain negotiations . In a word, she and her client are stuck. Though
there are many variations on this theme, they all prove the same basic point: the prosecutor has all the power . The Supreme Court’s
suggestion that a plea bargain is a fair and voluntary contractual arrangement between two relatively equal parties is a total myth: it is much more like a “contract of adhesion”
in which one party can effectively force its will on the other party. As for the suggestion from some academics that this is the equivalent of a regulatory process, that too is a
myth: for, quite aside from the imbalance of power, there are no written regulations controlling the prosecutor’s exercise of his charging power and no established or meaningful
process for appealing his exercise of that power. The result is that, of the 2.2 million Americans now in prison—an appalling number in its own right— well over two million are
there as a result of plea bargains dictated by the government’s prosecutors, who effectively dictate the sentences as well. A cynic might ask: What’s wrong with that? After all,
crime rates have declined over the past twenty years to levels not seen since the early 1960s, and it is difficult to escape the conclusion that our criminal justice system, by giving
prosecutors the power to force criminals to accept significant jail terms, has played a major part in this reduction. Most Americans feel a lot safer today than they did just a few
decades ago, and that feeling has contributed substantially to their enjoyment of life. Why should we cavil at the empowering of prosecutors that has brought us this result? The
answer may be found in Jefferson’s perception that a criminal justice system that is secret and government
dictated ultimately invites abuse and even tyranny. Specifically, I would suggest that the current system of prosecutor-
determined plea bargaining invites the following objections. First, it is one sided. Our criminal justice system is premised on
the notion that, before we deprive a person of his liberty, he will have his “day in court,” i.e., he
will be able to put the government to its proof and present his own facts and arguments,
following which a jury of his peers will determine whether or not he is guilty of a crime and a
neutral judge will, if he is found guilty, determine his sentence. As noted, numerous guarantees
of this fairminded approach are embodied in our Constitution, and were put there because of the
Founding Fathers’ experience with the rigged British system of colonial justice. Is not the plea
bargain system we have now substituted for our constitutional ideal similarly rigged? Second,
and closely related, the system of plea bargains dictated by prosecutors is the product of largely
secret negotiations behind closed doors in the prosecutor’s office, and is subject to almost no
review, either internally or by the courts. Such a secretive system inevitably invites arbitrary
results. Indeed, there is a great irony in the fact that legislative measures that were designed to
rectify the perceived evils of disparity and arbitrariness in sentencing have empowered
prosecutors to preside over a pleabargaining system that is so secretive and without rules that
we do not even know whether or not it operates in an arbitrary manner. Third, and possibly the
gravest objection of all, the prosecutordictated plea bargain system, by creating such inordinate
pressures to enter into plea bargains, appears to have led a significant number of defendants to
plead guilty to crimes they never actually committed. For example, of the approximately three
hundred people that the Innocence Project and its affiliated lawyers have proven were
wrongfully convicted of crimes of rape or murder that they did not in fact commit, at least thirty,
or about 10 percent, pleaded guilty to those crimes. Presumably they did so because, even
though they were innocent, they faced the likelihood of being convicted of capital offenses and
sought to avoid the death penalty, even at the price of life imprisonment. But other publicized
cases, arising with disturbing frequency, suggest that this self protective psychology operates in
noncapital cases as well, and recent studies suggest that this is a widespread problem. For
example, the National Registry of Exonerations (a joint project of Michigan Law School and
Northwestern Law School) records that of 1,428 legally acknowledged exonerations that have
occurred since 1989 involving the full range of felony charges, 151 (or, again, about 10 percent)
involved false guilty pleas. It is not difficult to perceive why this should be so. After all, the typical person accused of a crime combines a troubled past with
limited resources: he thus recognizes that, even if he is innocent, his chances of mounting an effective defense at trial may be modest at best. If his lawyer can obtain a plea
bargain that will reduce his likely time in prison, he may find it “rational” to take the plea. Every criminal defense lawyer (and I was both a federal prosecutor and a criminal
defense lawyer before going on the bench) has had the experience of a client who first tells his lawyer he is innocent and then, when confronted with a preview of the
government’s proof, says he is guilty. Usually, he is in fact guilty and was previously lying to his lawyer (despite the protections of the attorney–client privilege, which many
defendants, suspicious even of their courtappointed lawyers, do not appreciate). But sometimes the situation is reversed, and the client now lies to his lawyer by saying he is
guilty when in fact he is not, because he has decided to “take the fall.” In theory, this charade should be exposed at the time the defendant enters his plea, since the judge is
supposed to question the defendant about the facts underlying his confession of guilt. But in practice, most judges, happy for their own reasons to avoid a timeconsuming trial,
will barely question the defendant beyond the bare bones of his assertion of guilt, relying instead on the prosecutor’s statement (untested by any crossexamination) of what the
underlying facts are. Indeed, in situations in which the prosecutor and defense counsel themselves recognize that the guilty plea is somewhat artificial, they will have jointly
arrived at a written statement of guilt for the defendant to read that cleverly covers all the bases without providing much detail. The Supreme Court, for its part, has gone so far
(with the Alford plea of 1970) as to allow a defendant to enter a guilty plea while factually maintaining his innocence. While, moreover, a defendant’s decision to plead guilty to a
crime he did not commit may represent a “rational,” if cynical, costbenefit analysis of his situation, in fact there is some evidence that the pressure of the situation may cause an
innocent defendant to make a lessthanrational appraisal of his chances for acquittal and thus decide to plead guilty when he not only is actually innocent but also could be
proven so. Research indicates that young, unintelligent, or riskaverse defendants will often provide false confessions just because they cannot “take the heat” of an interrogation.
Although research into false guilty pleas is far less developed, it may be hypothesized that similar pressures, less immediate but more prolonged, may be in effect when a
defendant is told, often by his own lawyer, that there is a strong case against him, that his likelihood of acquittal is low, and that he faces a mandatory minimum of five or ten
years in prison if convicted and a guidelines range of considerably more—but that, if he acts swiftly, he can get a plea bargain to a lesser offense that will reduce his prison time
by many years. How prevalent is the phenomenon of innocent people pleading guilty? The few criminologists who have thus far investigated the phenomenon estimate that the
overall rate for convicted felons as a whole is between 2 percent and 8 percent. The size of that range suggests the imperfection of the data; but let us suppose that it is even
lower, say, no more than 1 percent. When you recall that, of the 2.2 million Americans in prison, over 2 million are there because of plea bargains, we are then talking about an
Even one innocent person being coerced into pleading guilty cannot
be upheld
Andrew Birrell et al, 2018, Birrell-Mr. Birrell is an accomplished and seasoned appellate
lawyer. He has argued before the United States Supreme Court in Washington, D.C., the federal
appeals court, and has won reversals of convictions and orders for new trials in the Minnesota
Court of Appeals and Supreme Court. Ramon de la Cabada, and Martín A. Sabelli; and Members
John Cline, James Felman, Daniella Gordon, JaneAnne Murray, David Patton, Marjorie Peerce,
Barry J. Pollack, and Todd Pugh, all seasoned criminal defense attorneys with the NACDL,
National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers,
https://www.nacdl.org/getattachment/95b7f0f5-90df-4f9f-9115-520b3f58036a/the-trial-
penalty-the-sixth-amendment-right-to-trial-on-the-verge-of-extinction-and-how-to-save-it.pdf,
6-25-2020/Khan
In closing, it
is important to reiterate what is at stake if the trial penalty continues to hold sway over
defendants’ free exercise of their Constitutional rights. A system that coerces even one
innocent person to plead guilty should not be condoned . Nor should the rights of the
accused to hold the government to its burden of proof be impeded by fear of severe retribution.
Unless the freedom of choice to exercise the right to a jury trial is fully restored, a great
hypocrisy will endure — one that espouses lofty principles of criminal justice but insists that the
system for administering criminal justice cannot afford to honor those principles except in an
insignificant percentage of cases. NACDL readily acknowledges the difficulty of fashioning a sentencing system that allows for
individualized sentences tempered by concerns for national parity, and then administering that system in a just and efficient way. This study should not
be viewed as a disparagement of the federal prosecutorial bar, the federal judiciary, or the Sentencing Commission as a whole. However, as an
the current
organization dedicated to promoting civil rights and liberties that are fundamental to democracy, NACDL is gravely concerned that
system unfairly infringes on one of the most precious Constitutional rights. As the years go on, fewer
and fewer defendants are choosing to take advantage of the right to a trial. When the risks of
exercising this crucial human right are too great for all but 3% of federal criminal defendants,
the system is in need of repair.
Dissent. Justice Stevens dissented, noting that their decision repealed the Sentencing Reform
Act and took away the Congressional right to determine sentencing. Justice Scalia also
dissented, noting that by overturning the Sentencing Guidelines, the Court is effectively allowing
for a litany of different sentences, all for the same crime.
Discussion. While there are several opinions to this case, the outcome is simple: a judge cannot
use evidence, other than that which is presented to a jury, to enhance sentencing or a
defendant’s Sixth Amendment rights will be violated.
Guidelines Followed Now
Guidelines are followed 75% of the time. We’ll insert this table.
United States Sentencing Commission 2019 [Official sentencing commission of
the United States. “Statistical Information Packet”
https://www.ussc.gov/sites/default/files/pdf/research-and-publications/federal-sentencing-
statistics/state-district-circuit/2019/1c19.pdf //DMcD]
violate people’s rights, in large part because of their certainty of never having to take the stand
to answer for their actions. Police departments rightfully get blamed for the crisis in violent and corrupt policing. The recent firing of Daniel Pantaleo, the
New York Police Department officer who strangled Eric Garner to death, lied about it, kept his job for five years and got terminated only after international pressure and the
recommendation of a Police Department judge, underscores why. But the near impossibility of getting fired is only part of the
crisis of impunity. An overlooked but significant culprit is mandatory minimum sentencing. In
criminal courts throughout this country, victims of police abuse — illegal stops and frisks, car stops and searches, home raids, manufactured charges and
excessive force — routinely forgo their constitutional right to challenge police abuse in a pretrial hearing
in exchange for plea deals. They do so because the alternative is to risk the steep mandatory
minimum sentence they would face if they went to trial and lost. Prosecutors use the fear of
these mandatory minimums to their advantage by offering comparatively less harsh plea deals
before pretrial hearings and trials begin. The result is not only the virtual loss of the jury trial —
today, 95 percent of convictions come from guilty pleas instead of jury verdicts — but also the loss of the only opportunity to confront
police misconduct in criminal proceedings. In New York City, for example, less than 5 percent of all felony arrests that are prosecuted have
hearings to contest police misconduct. For misdemeanor arrests that are prosecuted — a third of which are initiated by the police — less than .5 percent of cases go to a hearing.
A guilty plea also has the effect of insulating police from any civil rights lawsuit asserting false
arrest because a plea of guilty serves as an admission that the officers’ arrest was justified. A year
before his court appearance, Jacob was heading home when undercover detectives stopped a car he had borrowed. They ordered him and his three friends out of the car,
handcuffed them and searched the car without justification. The officers later claimed that he failed to signal and that they smelled a strong odor of marijuana emanating from
the vehicle when they approached, both common police lies used as pretexts to stop and search predominately black and Latinx people. During the search, the officers recovered
a handgun from inside the spare tire compartment in the trunk. Jacob adamantly denied knowledge of the gun — it was not his car, other people used the vehicle, and there were
multiple passengers — but he was charged with possession of a loaded firearm, a “violent felony” under New York law. The stakes were significant for this 21-year-old with no
criminal record. At a pretrial hearing, where the legitimacy of the stop and search of the vehicle would be examined and a judge would determine whether to suppress (preclude
the prosecutor from using any evidence relating to the firearm at trial), it would be his word against the officers’. And if he lost and went to trial, he would face the mandatory
minimum of three and a half years in prison. On the day of the hearing, the prosecutor in Jacob’s case offered a last-minute plea deal: a nonviolent felony with a sentence of
probation. But if he turned it down that day, the deal would forever be off the table. Prosecutors call this a “one-time offer,” a routine pressure tactic that undermines a
meaningful opportunity to make a truly voluntary decision. Most people take the deal. The framers of the Constitution envisioned a far
different system. They knew well from British rule that the government’s power to stop, search, detain, accuse, judge and punish people suspected of committing
crimes presented unique risks for abuse. While they did not envision plea bargaining or the kind of policing we have today, three of 10 amendments in
our Bill of Rights — the Fourth, Fifth and Sixth — when read together, collectively describe the view that government power
should be vigorously challenged, without fear of reprisal or punishment, at every turn when it
threatens the liberty of individuals. This original intent becomes meaningless if defendants
cannot seek and receive judicial protection. As the United States Supreme Court warned nearly 60 years ago in the landmark Mapp v. Ohio:
“Nothing can destroy a government more quickly than its failure to observe its own laws, or
worse, its disregard of the charter of its own existence.” Jacob got his public hearing. Two of the officers involved in his stop, search
and arrest were compelled to testify. I cross-examined them over three days. They were visibly uncomfortable, even upset at times. It was clear that they never expected to
testify. The judge found the officers’ testimony “implausible,” holding that the search violated Jacob’s constitutional rights, and granted Jacob’s motion to suppress the firearm.
Soon after, the prosecution dismissed all charges. A month later, however, I learned that the same prosecutor was relying on the same team of officers to prosecute another man.
He, too, was charged with possession of a gun found under similar circumstances. A week after that, I passed by the officer whose testimony under oath the judge had rejected as
“implausible.” He was sitting in court, waiting for another judge to sign off on a search warrant — to enter and search someone’s home — sworn out by him. The message that the
system sent to this officer and continues to send to others is clear: You can do anything and the system will not hold you accountable. In fact, the system will protect you. We
must abolish mandatory minimum sentences. Aside from denying individualized justice and
driving mass punishment, they usurp the role of the jury, coerce guilty pleas and, yes, insulate
police misconduct. But as Jacob’s case underscored, even in the rare cases where officers are forced to testify and a judge finds them unbelievable, there is no
mechanism to ensure that they are halted from being able to contribute to future prosecutions.
percentage of federal defendants pleading guilty continuing to rise . In 2016, 97.3% of defendants
in the federal criminal justice system opted to concede their guilt. And in 2017, that number held
steady at 97.2%. That means that in recent years fewer than 3% of federal criminal defendants
chose to take advantage of one of the most crucial constitutional rights. 18 Plea bargaining has become so widely
accepted that these statistics are unlikely to shock the average reader. But they should be deeply troubling. In a recent article in the New York Times, one federal judge
highlighted the important role of the jury trial “not only as a truth-seeking mechanism and a means of
achieving fairness, but also as a shield against tyranny. As Thomas Jefferson famously said, ‘I consider [trial by jury] as the only
anchor ever yet imagined by man, by which a government can be held to the principles of its constitution.’”19 Indeed, jury trials offer the average
citizen an opportunity to directly participate in the criminal justice process to prevent the
government from overstepping its authority . The public may still decry overcriminalization and the soaring prison population from afar. But
the proliferation of plea bargaining has largely eliminated the public’s traditional ability to nullify
the government’s overreach in individual cases. Despite the clear intentions of the country’s founders, American society has willingly
handed their authority back to the very institutions that juries were meant to keep in check. What’s more, they have done so not in the name of
justice but of efficiency. The current public attitude echoes the same justification the Supreme Court gave when it jettisoned its historical skepticism of plea
bargaining: “‘If every criminal charge were subjected to a full-scale trial, the States and the Federal Government would need to multiply by many times the number of judges and
protections secured by a jury trial. Defendants who go to trial enjoy the right: u To be found
guilty only by a jury of their peers, selected with the input of defendants’ counsel and under restrictions to prevent
discrimination that could cause the jury’s decision to be unfairly biased; 21 u To discover exculpatory and impeachment
evidence that jurors would likely find material; 22 u To confront and cross-examine witnesses to
ensure live, adversarial testing of the prosecution’s case; 23 In 2016, 97.3% of defendants in the federal criminal justice system
opted to concede their guilt. And in 2017, that number held steady at 97.2%. That means that in recent years fewer than 3% of federal criminal defendants chose to take
prosecution regarding the defendants’ choice to remain silent; 24 u To be found guilty only by a
unanimous decision from the jury that they found evidence of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt
after proper instructions to ensure that they understand the necessary level of proof and the
burden on the prosecution to prove its case. 25 u To raise constitutional and other legal
challenges to the manner in which the government acquired evidence to support prosecution;
and u To appeal the conviction and any ancillary rulings underlying the conviction. None of
these protections is available to a defendant who pleads guilty. 26 Popular arguments about greater
efficiency thus inevitably lead to an uncomfortable conclusion: however important these
constitutional rights are, this country cannot afford to uphold them save in 3% of criminal cases.
There are undoubted advantages in allowing defendants to plead guilty — for the government, for society, and for
defendants themselves. But do those advantages come at the expense of fairness and justice ? The astounding percentage
of defendants who so willingly relinquish important Constitutional protections alone demands closer scrutiny of plea bargaining. Despite the nominal right
of individual defendants to insist on a trial, recent studies have revealed that the plea bargaining
process can be so coercive it can influence even innocent defendants to plead guilty. As this
report details, there is ample evidence that many defendants are compelled to forego their right
to a trial because the penalties they would otherwise face are too steep to risk. This “Trial
Penalty” — the discrepancy between the sentence offered during plea negotiations and the
sentence a defendant will face after trial — has received much attention in recent years . In 2013, Human
Rights Watch published a report detailing how prosecutors use the trial penalty to force federal drug defendants to plead guilty. 27 Joining that effort, NACDL has undertaken its
own study to examine the mechanisms that contribute to the trial penalty in federal criminal cases across the board. The United States Sentencing Commission’s data on federal
more than triple the average post-plea sentence. In antitrust cases, it was more than eight times as high. (See Figure 1,
below.) Although these averages do not represent the precise choice faced by any individual defendant, NACDL has also conducted a survey and identified numerous real-world
instances of the trial penalty — where defendants who went to trial faced extreme penalties compared to the sentences they were offered during plea negotiations or the
sentences of their similarly-situated co-defendants. Because plea negotiations are off the record and because most cases plead out, data regarding plea offers is largely
unavailable, so there is no way to accurately calculate the full extent of the trial penalty. Nevertheless, a combination of anecdotal evidence and an analysis of prosecutorial
practices, sentencing laws, and judicial decisions strongly suggests that coercion plays a major role in the ever-increasing percentage of defendants who forego their right to a
prosecutors, who are already personally incentivized to achieve speedy convictions, have
trial. Federal
virtually unbridled discretion over decisions that will dictate a defendant’s ultimate sentence . They
possess nearly exclusive authority in selecting what charges to bring, and in most cases, any number of criminal statutes could apply to a defendant’s conduct, each carrying a
effortto achieve a guilty plea. On the other hand, defendants presented with plea offers are often at an
informational disadvantage and are unable to adequately assess the likelihood thatthey could be
acquitted of the charges the prosecutor has selected, even with the benefit of effective assistance
of counsel. The federal sentencing laws in turn provide prosecutors with an arsenal of tools that
can be manipulated to convince defendants to plead guilty. The federal Sentencing
Guidelines, which are the starting point for sentencing in all federal cases, can
result in excruciatingly steep penalties that are frequently disproportionate to a
defendant’s actual culpability, and important reductions from those penalties are
generally only available to defendants who plead guilty . Although judges retain ultimate authority over final
sentences, mandatory minimum sentencing statutes — which are only triggered by a
The coercive plea bargain system leads to explosive prison growth and
stark racial disparities
Danny Weil, 11-7-2012, writer for Project Censored and Daily Censored, Widespread Use of
Plea Bargains Plays Major Role in Mass Incarceration, Truthout,
https://truthout.org/articles/overwhelming-use-of-plea-bargains-plays-major-role-in-mass-
incarceration/, 7-7-2020/Khan
The plea bargain system is really based upon coercion, a legal form of extortion by the state.
Prosecutors coerce defendants into pleading guilty by piling on charge after charge, and judges
coerce those charged by making it known that the punishment will be much milder if you plead
guilty than if you lose after exercising your supposed constitutional rights and go to trial.
Retribution can be as swift. Like the Inquisition, this system of duress too frequently results in
innocent individuals entering guilty pleas they never would have if the constitution was really
put into play.
The current system of plea bargaining has corrupted criminal defense law as it stampedes the
constitution, leaving in its wake intimidation and fear. In practice, a defense lawyer’s main job is
negotiating guilty pleas and subsequent sentences, not defending the criminally accused, as
many would believe. Instead, because over 90 percent of criminal cases are resolved through
plea bargains, the economics of defense lawyers depends on pushing paper and maintaining
good relationships with prosecutors; therefore, it is not uncommon for defense attorneys to
allow a client to “take a fall” rather than accuse a prosecutor of misconduct and risk legal
retaliation in future cases. Crony legalism is an essential part of crony capitalism, and nowhere
is this better seen than in the halls of justice.
Do Plea Bargains Allow Criminals to Get Off Easy?
Popular culture, disseminated by Hollywood movies and television series, depict plea bargains
as a way of allowing those accused of a crime to escape justice and “get off easy.” In reality,
usually the opposite is true.
Plea bargains allow prosecutors to bring charges against far more people than the legal system
could process through a system of judicial trials. Thus, they create the material conditions for
their own replication. Because less than 10 percent of criminal cases, federal and state, go to
trial, plea bargains in effect allow the state to prosecute ten times more cases than they could
handled at trial.
Plea bargains are also essential for stocking for-profit prisons with a steady supply of
“customers” for their corporate shareholders. Plea bargaining both enlists and perpetuates the
principles of mass production, deception and mendacity, which in turn are applied quite readily
in the whole of our system of criminal “justice.”
Plea bargaining has also become an essential element of both mushrooming prison growth and
the racially disparate state of American prison populations, with the gravity of the burden
falling on the backs of blacks and Latinos. Without plea bargaining, the explosion
in prison populations of color, especially those of for-profit prisons, could never
be possible.
In his paper, “The Problem With Plea Bargaining: Differential Subjective Decision Making as an
Engine of Racial Stratification in the United States Prison System,” attorney and sociologist
Douglas Savitsky argues that:
The bargains struck by Black defendants tend to be worse than those struck by similarly situated
white defendants. There are several reasons for this. Black defendants are generally poorer, and
they are thus less able to afford a competent defense.
What Would Happen if Defendants Crashed the Court System by Refusing to "Plea Out"? As
long as plea bargains are
used as a club to coerce defendants into abdicating their right of the constitutional guarantee to a
fair trial, the prison-industrial complex will continue to grow exponentially . Plea bargains are one
big woodpile that serves to fuel the ever-expanding prison-industrial complex , rendering transparent
the American political resolve to incarcerate more and more people even if it means bankrupting their municipalities, cutting
education and devoting their budgets to subsidizing the for-profit prison industry. If this resolve represents the mens rea (criminal
intent) of the political will for mass incarceration, then plea bargaining can be said to represent the actus reus, the physical act of
carrying out the industrial carceral state. If
plea bargains were eliminated, or even severely monitored and reduced, the
states and the federal government would then be required to carry out their burden under the
constitution of proving the guilt of a criminal defendant in accordance with the law. If this
happened, there would be a whopping reduction in prosecutions, not to mention incarcerations .
Such a shift would be an important step in ending the current carceral culture of mass
confinement and cruelty. Michelle Alexander, a civil rights lawyer and bestselling author of the book, The New Jim Crow: Mass
Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness, recently wrote in The New York Times that in her phone call with Susan Burton, a
formerly incarcerated woman who took a plea bargain for drug use, Burton
asked: What would happen if we
organized thousands, even hundreds of thousands, of people charged with crimes to refuse to
play the game, to refuse to plea out? What if they all insisted on their Sixth Amendment right to
trial? Couldn't we bring the whole system to a halt just like that? Believe me, I know. I'm asking
what we can do. Can we crash the system just by exercising our rights? Burton has the right to ask this
question. It took her 15 years after pleading to a drug charge to get her life back together. The organization she recently started, A
New Way of Life, offers a much-needed lifeline to women released from prison. But it does much more than this: it is also helping to
start a movement against plea bargaining and the restoration of the constitution as it applies to citizens. All of Us or None is another
such group that is organizing formerly incarcerated people and encouraging them to demand restoration of their basic civil and
human rights. But the question Burton asks remains: could criminal defendants really crash the system if they demanded their
constitutional rights and refused to plea to crimes they did not commit? From
the point of view of American
University law professor Angela J. Davis, the answer is yes. The system of mass industrial
incarceration is entirely dependent on the cooperation of those it seeks to control. If everyone
charged with crimes suddenly exercised their constitutional rights, then there would not be
enough judges, lawyers or prison cells to deal with the flood tide of litigation . As Davis notes, not
everyone would have to join for the revolt to have an impact: "if the number of people exercising their trial rights suddenly doubled
or tripled in some jurisdictions, it would create chaos." The
entire carceral system is riddled with corruption
and broken beyond comprehension. Davis and Burton might be right: crashing the judicial
system by refusing to get roughhoused into phony plea bargain deals could be the most
responsible route to cleaning up the courts and restoring constitutional rights. It is daunting,
and it takes guts, but with more than 90 percent incarcerated for plea bargains, it is courage we
need. One thing we do know: there are many people falsely accused of crimes doing time in for-
profit American gulags, and many more waiting to replace them. This situation might be good for the for-
profit prison system and a few major stockholders but it spells Dante's Inferno for those forced to take the plea, as Alford, Banks,
Burton and far too many others know.
Only justice provides the virtuous basis to reject the most unjust
practices of the world.
SEP ’17 [Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy; The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy
organizes scholars from around the world in philosophy and related disciplines to create and
maintain an up-to-date reference work; 6-26-2017; “Justice (Stanford Encyclopedia of
Philosophy)“; Stanford.edu; https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/justice/; Accessed 7-7-2020;
RG-Camp]
The idea of justice occupies centre stage both in ethics, and in legal and political philosophy. We
apply it to individual actions, to laws, and to public policies, and we think in each case that if they
are unjust this is a strong, maybe even conclusive, reason to reject them. Classically, justice
was counted as one of the four cardinal virtues (and sometimes as the most important of the four);
in modern times John Rawls famously described it as ‘the first virtue of social institutions’
(Rawls 1971, p.3; Rawls, 1999, p.3). We might debate which of these realms of practical philosophy has first claim on justice: is it
first and foremost a property of the law, for example, and only derivatively a property of
individuals and other institutions? But it is probably more enlightening to accept that the idea has
over time sunk deep roots in each of these domains , and to try to make sense of such a wide-ranging concept by
identifying elements that are present whenever justice is invoked, but also examining the different
forms it takes in various practical contexts. This article aims to provide a general map of the ways in which justice
has been understood by philosophers, past and present.
The conceptual distinction between distributive and corrective justice seems clear, but their normative
relationship is more difficult to pin down (see Perry 2000, Ripstein 2004, Coleman 1992, chs. 16–17). Some
have claimed that corrective justice is merely instrumental to distributive justice : its aim is to
move from a situation of distributive injustice brought about by the faulty behaviour to one that is more
nearly (if not perfectly) distributively just. But this view runs into a number of objections. One is that so long as
Alice has a legitimate title to her computer, her claim of corrective justice against Bill does not
depend on her having had, prior to the theft, the share of resources that distributive justice ideally
demands. She might be richer than she deserves to be, yet corrective justice still require that the computer be
returned to her. In other words, corrective justice may serve to promote conservative rather than ideal
justice, to use the distinction introduced in 2.1. Another objection is that corrective justice requires the wrongdoer himself to
restore or compensate the person he has wronged, even if the cause of distributive justice could be better served by transferring
resources from a third party – giving Alice one of even-more-undeservedly-rich Charles’s computers, for example. This underlines
the bilateralnature of corrective justice , and also the fact that it comes into play in response to
faulty behaviour on someone’s part. Its primary demand is that people should not lose out
because others have behaved wrongfully or carelessly, but it also encompasses the idea that ‘no man should
profit by his own wrong’. If Alice loses her computer in a boating accident, she might, under an insurance scheme, have a claim of
distributive justice to a new machine, but she has no claim of corrective justice.
In 1870, a prominent
meeting in Cincinnati of the American Prison Association, chaired by
eased judges' principled objections to plea bargaining.
future President Rutherford B. Hayes, launched the indeterminate-sentencing movement in America. The
reality of the indeterminate sentence, had it ever taken hold in its truest form, would have done much
to wreck the plea-bargaining regime: If the judge had no other role than to dispatch the
defendant to prison and if other authorities determined the date of release , then the only
meaningful promise the judge could make in exchange for the defendant's guilty plea would
have been to put the defendant on probation rather than send him to prison. Plea bargaining would
not have died in such a setting - we already have seen that defendants often pled guilty to win a chance at probation - but neither
would it have flourished, for no conscientious judge could promise to spare serious criminals from serving any time at all. In Part
VII, I will return to this clash between plea bargaining and the indeterminate sentence to show how
the plea-bargaining regime succeeded in putting down this challenge to its forward march. [*1005] Now,
though, it is important to see what sustenance plea bargaining drew from the principles of the indeterminate sentence. For
even as the true indeterminate sentence fell to history's dust heap, the concept survived in corrupted forms, and its
theoretical underpinnings proved more lasting than the institution itself . Those underpinnings were quite
simple: First, punishment should look to the future and not the past. That is, the critical concern in arriving at a just sentence was
not what the defendant had done, but when it would be safe again to release him upon the community. The second underpinning
followed from the first: Because the judge, even after trial, knew little more about the defendant's capacity for reform than what one
could learn from a study of his past behavior, the judge was distinctly unqualified to pass a fixed sentence. "It is absurd," wrote a
former Massachusetts prison commissioner and a leading advocate of the indeterminate sentence in 1899, " to
suppose that
any judge can tell in 1900 whether a criminal will or will not be fit to return to the community in
1905." [*1006] No doubt this assertion of judicial incapacity to fix the right sentence aroused judges' indignation. Making matters
worse, state legislatures in fact began to carve away at judicial sentencing authority. Massachusetts helped lead the trend: In 1857
and 1858, long before the Cincinnati Congress, the legislature provided for "statutory good time" - a fixed reduction from the judge's
sentence that convicts could earn by their good behavior in prison. In 1880, the legislature granted probation officers the power to
recommend the release of any misdemeanant with less than six months left to serve and required the district attorney, not the judge,
to approve the release under this act of any person sentenced in superior court. An 1884 law permitted the prison commissioners to
release any convict they deemed "reformed." The legislature created its first almost-genuine indeterminate sentence in 1886, but as
judges could use this sentencing option or not as they pleased, the balance of sentencing power did not shift greatly. Finally, by acts
of 1894 and 1895, the legislature put in place the parole regime that most of us know today as the "indeterminate sentence," which
required judges to set minimum and maximum terms when they sent a convict to state prison and gave prison authorities the power
to choose a release date between those bounds. The same English observer I quoted earlier expressed his astonishment at American
parole laws that "violated the fundamental principle that… [*1007] the sentence of the court shall be the final arbitrament of the
case." He concluded that they sprang in part from a "want of respect for, and confidence in, the State's Judiciary." It is hard to
imagine that American judges missed the slight these laws implied. To the extent that the gravity of their sentencing power had ever
held them back from casting it among the lots of the gaming table, the considered judgment of legislators that the judges' word
should not be the last must have weakened their resistance. Moreover, the knowledge that another authority would later adjust the
sentences of the court must have made it seem at least a little less important to get those sentences exactly right. Hence both
probation and the indeterminate sentence eased judges' principled objections to engaging in plea bargaining's human trade. Even as
probation officers supplied information that let judges set an appropriate sentence without hearing evidence, the principles of the
indeterminate sentence released judges from their obligation to set that sentence with precision. With their moral guard down and
with alarming civil caseloads pressing them to cut deals where they could, judges perhaps gave in to temptation and dealt.
Indeterminate – AT: Clemency
Parole is key – it’s statistically proven to have higher release rates
than clemency.
Morrow et. al. ‘19 [Katherine Puzauskas & Kevin Morrow; Professors for the Sandra Day
O'Connor College of Law; 2019; “NO INDETERMINATE SENTENCING WITHOUT PAROLE“;
Ohio Northern University Law Review, Volume 44 Issue 2 Article 3;
https://digitalcommons.onu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1015&context=onu_law_review;
Accessed 7-6-2020; RG-Camp]
Statistics provided by the Arizona Board of Clemency show that between 2004 and 2016 the Board heard
an average of 594.9 clemency hearings per year, recommended an average of 48.2 prisoners a year
to the governor who granted clemency to an average of 6.7, or 1.5% of all applicants.179 During that same
period, the Board granted an average of 88 out of 436 parole applications a year, or 21.3%.180 The data in
Figure 1 and Figure 2 clearly shows that parole offers a significantly higher opportunity for
release than clemency.
Clemency in Arizona does not offer the same consideration for release that parole does.
Prisoners described by the Arizona courts as “eligible for other forms of release, such as executive clemency,”182 are denied
a fundamental requirement of due process.183 Unlike the Arizona courts, the Supreme Court of the United
States’ Solem decision determined the defendants “argument that he is not likely to actually be released”
is relevant.184 Arizona data comparing the likelihood of obtaining a commutation of sentence versus parole shows that a
prisoner is fifteen times more likely on average to be released on parole than clemency and in
some years parole applicants are thirty-one times more likely to be released.185 Clemency is neither
legally nor factually comparable to parole as an opportunity to be heard or released.
IV. ANALYSIS
Arizona’s lack of parole consideration after Truth-in-Sentencing creates three legal deficiencies depending on
the sentenced imposed: (1) capital defendants denied their due process right under Simmons and Lynch
III to inform the jury they would be ineligible for parole are entitled to a new jury sentencing; (2) prisoners sentenced by
the court to life with the possibility of “parole” after twenty-five years that are denied a parole hearing are
denied a due process right to be heard; and (3) defendants who pled guilty with a stipulated
sentence of life with the possibility of “parole ” after twenty-five years are likely able to either withdraw
from their plea agreements when those deals are breached by the state’s inability to uphold the promised parole
hearings or request the judiciary to order specific performance on their pleas .186
Indeterminate – AT: Deterrence
Deterrence fails – empirics.
Christopher Slobogin, Fall 2011, [Milton Underwood Professor of Law, Vanderbilt
University Law School, "Prevention As The Primary Goal Of Sentencing: The Modern Case For
Indeterminate Dispositions In Criminal Cases", San Diego Law Review
https://digital.sandiego.edu/sdlr/vol48/iss4/4/?utm_source=digital.sandiego.edu%2Fsdlr
%2Fvol48%2Fiss4%2F4&utm_medium=PDF&utm_campaign=PDFCoverPages //DMcD]
D. Objections 5 and 6: Indeterminate Sentencing, Deterrence, and Norm Compliance One might
assume that if potential offenders know that any sentence they receive will be indeterminate
rather than a time certain, they may be more likely to roll the antisocial dice . In fact, the effect of
criminal law doctrine on crime is much more complex. Research strongly suggests that for most offenders
concern about punishment has very little impact on the decision to commit crime .
As one study of imprisoned offenders found, the vast majority of criminals "are impervious to
harsher punishments because no feasible detection rate or punishment scheme would arrest
the impelling forces behind their behaviors, which might include drugs, fight-or-flight
responses, or irrational thought." To the extent criminal sanctions are able to buy deterrence, indeterminate sentencing
may even maximize it. Potential first time offenders cannot know ahead of time either the nature or
the duration of their disposition if convicted, an uncertainty that could increase reluctance to
commit crime. In the meantime, potential reoffenders, if they think about punishment at all, will
probably guess - often correctly - that the government's response to new crimes will be progressively
tougher, which should also enhance deterrence. The deterrence objection to indeterminate sentencing is closely
related to the concern alluded to above that it undermines the expressive function of the criminal law. As Henry Hart put it years
ago, a criminal justice system based on prevention rather than desert might "undermine [*1164] the foundation of a free society's
effort to build up each individual's sense of responsibility as a guide and a stimulus to the constructive development of his capacity
for effectual and fruitful decision." A more instrumental argument along these lines, made by Paul Robinson and John Darley, is that
if sentences depart dramatically or consistently from consensus views on the punishment that is deserved, people will lose respect
for the law and perhaps even become more willing to disobey it. Both of these points suggest that indeterminate sentences could lead
to more criminal activity among the general population, not just among those who are intrinsically predisposed to antisocial
behavior but also among those who are typically law-abiding. A system that did not visit any sanction on those who commit crime, or
that routinely released serious offenders after a short time and confined minor offenders for prolonged periods, might well produce
the hypothesized effects. But there is virtually
no empirical support for the position that an
indeterminate sentencing regime of the type proposed here would foster
noncompliance with the law. Certainly the indeterminate regimes that have existed throughout the
first three-quarters of the twentieth century have not been associated with lessened deterrence , a
loosening of society's moral structure, or greater disdain for the law and government authorities. It is also worth noting that the
criminal law is only a minor player in shaping societal character; family, peers, schools, churches, and various other institutions are
much more likely to function in such a role. Nonetheless, the concerns discussed here may require sentences longer than those
strictly necessary as a prevention measure, in two situations. First, it may turn out, contrary to the assertions just made, that
indeterminate sentencing in its pure form is so poor at capturing the urge to condemn that noncompliance, even by normally law-
abiding [*1165] citizens, increases. If so, legislatures could authorize and courts could impose high sentencing maxima, graded
among crimes according to desert. This arrangement would probably satisfy expressive retributive urges but at the same time allow
earlier release if a risk assessment so dictates; it would also allay the concerns of those worried about de facto lifetime confinement
based on risk assessments uncapped by any dispositional limitation. Second, when they know risk is the sole focus of sentencing,
some people who believe they have few risk factors may calculate that they get at least one free bite at the apple and commit crime as
a result. In these situations, some prison time might be necessary even in the absence of significant risk. The combination of these
concerns might result in a sentencing system similar to the original Model Penal Code's scheme, which established wide sentencing
ranges for felonies that all began at one year and increased in breadth according to crime severity, with the caveat that even one-year
sentences could be reduced in light of the crime and the history and character of the defendant. This type of system would differ
from limiting retributivism because no particular minimum sentence would be required, the sentence range would be broader, and
most importantly, risk would be determined at the back end by an expert panel rather than at the front end by a judge.
Indeterminate – AT: Dignity/Victims
No internal to dignity or victims.
Christopher Slobogin, Fall 2011, [Milton Underwood Professor of Law, Vanderbilt
University Law School, "Prevention As The Primary Goal Of Sentencing: The Modern Case For
Indeterminate Dispositions In Criminal Cases", San Diego Law Review
https://digital.sandiego.edu/sdlr/vol48/iss4/4/?utm_source=digital.sandiego.edu%2Fsdlr
%2Fvol48%2Fiss4%2F4&utm_medium=PDF&utm_campaign=PDFCoverPages //DMcD]
C. Objections3 and 4: Indeterminate Sentencing andOffender-Victim Dignity Because
indeterminate sentences are based on risk rather than culpability , another concern is that they
denigrate the dignity of the offender and the victim. Herbert Morris, for instance, insisted that desert-
based punishment is necessary to affirm the responsibility, and therefore the humanity, of the
person who violates the law. Jean Hampton argued that desert-based punishment is required to affirm the victim's worth.
Antony Duff has similarly focused on the "communicative purpose" of punishment; to him, punishment is a necessary expression of
"what we, as a polity, owe to victims, to offenders, and to ourselves as a political community" as well as an effort to further the
offender's "moral rehabilitation" through persuasion as opposed to brute control. The fact that an indeterminate
sentence must be preceded by a conviction that announces the offender's moral culpability may
meet the goals expressed by Morris, Hampton, and Duff. The verdict tells the offender, the victim, and society
at large that the offender has been found accountable . If it is still felt that sentencing must also serve that function,
a closer look at how indeterminate sentencing works should allay concerns about whether it
adequately attends to offender dignity and victim vindication (the impact of indeterminate sentencing on
societal views is considered in Part III.D). As a matter of constitutional law, an indeterminate sentence must include
treatment designed to reduce risk - or to use modern nomenclature, a risk-needs management program - that will
concomitantly reduce the duration of the intervention. Otherwise, the least drastic means principle would be violated. Risk
management can take a number of different forms. But a consistent feature of any such program is that it stresses
offender responsibility for criminal actions, in a much more direct manner than a pronouncement by a judge that the offender
deserves a [*1162] particular sentence for what he or she has done. For instance, in the sex offender context, a very
common risk management technique is cognitive behavior therapy, which stresses the offender's ability to change behavior through
cognitive restructuring and avoiding risky situations. The primary message of this type of therapy is that actions have consequences
and that offenders are accountable for those consequences. As one article described this type of therapy, Treatment focuses on
reducing denial and cognitive distortions or minimizations, which are the rationalizations that offenders use to justify and maintain
their behavior … . [and also] attempts to develop victim empathy within the offender under the assumption that recognition of
risk management
victim impact will serve as a motivator to avoid future offending behavior. As this last comment indicates,
programs do not ignore the victim's concerns either. Indeed, compared to determinate sentencing,
where the victim is forgotten once sentence is imposed - and perhaps even before that point - risk
management often incorporates victims into the dispositional process . The best known method of doing so
is most commonly called "restorative justice," a term meant to describe an array of programs that include offender-victim
mediation and offender apology and restitution. Restorative justice not only is designed to reduce offenders' risk by impressing upon
them the palpable harm they have caused and facilitating their reintegration into the community but also is meant to empower the
victim by allowing him or her to confront the offender and perhaps even to help fashion disposition. [*1163]
Indeterminate – AT: Judicial Disparity
Judicial disparity is insignificant, but the guidelines don’t solve it
anyway.
Albert W. Alschuler, October 2005, [Julius Kreeger Professor of Law and Criminology,
University of Chicago., "The Normative And Empirical Failure Of The Federal Guidelines",
Stanford Law Review https://www.jstor.org/stable/40040253 //DMcD]
A. Judicial Variation
The Sentencing Commission notes, "The legislative history of the [Sentencing Reform Act of 1984] clearly shows … that different
treatment by different judges was the chief problem the Act was designed to address, as well as regional differences in sentencing."
The first
post-Guidelines study to focus on how much sentencing outcomes depended on the
identity of the sentencing judge is also the study whose methodology is the easiest for nonprofessionals to understand.
Joel Waldfogel examined sentences in three federal districts in which cases were assigned randomly to judges and every judge
appeared to have a comparable mix of cases over time. Waldfogel determined the length of the average sentence imposed in each
found that
district before and after the Guidelines and then how much each individual sentence deviated from the average. He
the judges who imposed below-average sentences before the Guidelines imposed below-average
sentences thereafter. The judges who formerly imposed above-average sentences still imposed
them too. Waldfogel averaged the amount by which all sentences in each court deviated from the court's overall average to
determine the "mean absolute deviation." If the Sentencing Guidelines had reduced the influence of the judge's identity on
sentencing - that is, if they had brought judges closer together - this measure of disparity should have declined following
implementation of the Guidelines. Waldfogel found, however, that judicial disparity increased significantly
in two of the three districts studied and remained essentially unchanged in the third . In the District
of Connecticut, the mean deviation increased from 4.2 months before the Guidelines to 9.9 months
after; in the Southern District of New York, it rose from 5.8 to 10.4 months; and in the Northern District of California, it rose
insignificantly from 4.2 to 4.4 months. Critics of the Federal Sentencing Guidelines warned of the evils the
Guidelines would produce, but none of them suggested (or imagined) that the Guidelines would
increase interjudge disparity. Three later studies did report some reductions of disparity in the sentences judges imposed,
but the reductions ranged from small to negligible. [*97] Abigail Payne examined interjudge disparity in three federal district courts.
She concluded that the disparity
attributable to differences among the judges before the Guidelines
was small - less than 5% of the total variation in sentences. A consistent finding of the post-
Guideline studies has been that interjudge variation before the Guidelines was much smaller than
sentencing reformers evidently believed it to be. The sentencing reformers relied in significant part on differences
in judicial responses to hypothetical cases, and real-world sentencing is apparently different. Although the level of interjudge
disparity declined in two of the districts studied, Payne described the decline as negligible. A distinctive feature of Payne's study was
its effort to distinguish the influence of the Sentencing Guidelines from that of mandatory minimum sentencing legislation that
became effective at about the same time. Like the Sentencing Guidelines, mandatory minimum sentences can reduce disparity - for
example, by requiring all judges to impose more severe sentences than any of the judges would have chosen if allowed to consider
cases on their merits. Payne studied drug crimes and property crimes separately because, although the Sentencing Guidelines
applied to both sorts of crime, the mandatory minimums applied only to the drug crimes. In two of her three districts, Payne
found no reduction of disparity in property-case sentences . She inferred that the overall reduction of disparity
was attributable mostly to the mandatory minimums. A public defender, an economist, and a prominent critic of the Federal
Sentencing Guidelines conducted the study most supportive of the hypothesis that the Guidelines had reduced interjudge disparity.
These authors reported [*98] that the expected difference in the sentence lengths of two judges receiving comparable cases was
sixteen to eighteen percent in the pre-Guidelines period. This difference fell to somewhere between eight and thirteen percent after
the Guidelines were implemented. In temporal terms, the expected interjudge difference dropped from 4.9 months before the
Guidelines to 3.9 months after. The study conducted by Paul Hofer and other members of the Sentencing Commission's staff
examined more courts and more cases than any other study. In the first part of this study, the Hofer group focused on the nine cities
in which at least three judges had imposed sentences in both the pre-Guidelines and post-Guidelines periods. (These periods were
separated by ten years.) The researchers
reported that, before the Guidelines, only 2.32% of the variation
in sentences was explained by the identity of the sentencing judge . This figure fell to an even
smaller 1.24% in the post-Guidelines period, a reduction of 1.08%. In the pre-Guidelines period, offenders
could expect the identity of the sentencing judge to make a difference of about 7.87 months in their sentences. With
the
Guidelines in effect, the expected difference in sentence attributable to the judge fell to 7.61
months - 0.26 months less. In other words, in the average case, the Guidelines might have reduced
interjudge sentencing disparity by about a week. A second part of the Hofer study focused on the forty-
one cities that had three or more judges on the bench during both the pre-Guidelines and post-Guidelines periods (whether or not
they were the same judges). In the pre-Guidelines period, the identity of the sentencing judge explained 2.40% of the variation in
sentences. This figure fell to 1.64% in the post-Guidelines period - a 0.76% reduction. In temporal terms, the variation among
judges in the forty-one-city study increased in the post-Guidelines period - from 8.89 months before the
Guidelines to 9.69 months after, an increase of approximately three weeks. The explanation for this apparent anomaly (a
larger temporal variation attributable to the judge but a smaller percentage of total variation attributable to the judge) is that the
sentences judges imposed in the post-Guidelines period were more severe than the sentences
judges imposed before the Guidelines. A larger number of months was therefore a smaller
percentage of the total average sentence, and a larger numerical variation in months was also a smaller variation
in the percentage of variation explained. A judge who is more severe than his colleagues in white-collar crime cases [*99] may be
more lenient in drug cases. The sentencing disparities resulting from this judge's idiosyncrasies could disappear in the analysis
described above - an analysis focusing on what Hofer and his colleagues called the "primary judge effect." The researchers therefore
also sought to study what they called "offense type by judge interaction." They reported, however, that "the offense type by judge
interaction fell in the forty-one-city analysis but actually increased in the nine-city analysis." The Hofer group did not attempt to
separate the effects of the Sentencing Guidelines from those of mandatory minimum sentences. It seems likely, however, that most
or all of the reported reduction in interjudge disparity was attributable to the mandatory minimums rather than the Guidelines. By
far the largest reductions in interjudge disparity occurred in the two offense categories affected by the mandatory minimums - drugs
and firearms. Reductions were smaller in fraud and larceny cases, and interjudge disparity actually increased substantially in
immigration and robbery cases. All
of the post-Guidelines studies focused on the sentences judges
imposed rather than the sentences offenders actually served. The reported reductions in disparity in the
sentences imposed were small, and if the Parole Commission reduced disparity at all in the pre-Guidelines period, its leveling was
likely to have matched or exceeded that accomplished by the Guidelines. The
Sentencing Guidelines do not
appear to have lessened disparity at all in the variable that matters most to offenders: how
much time they must serve. Despite its flaws, the Sentencing Commission's 1991 report did address whether the
Guidelines had reduced disparity in the time offenders served. The Hofer group and the Commission's Fifteen-Year Report did not
consider this question although the data were apparently at hand. The Hofer group reported that it had "conducted some analyses
using as outcome the expected time to be served" and that it calculated the time to be served for the pre-Guidelines period by
simulating the parole-release guidelines. After this pregnant announcement, however, Hofer and his co-authors said no more. A
reader of the Sentencing Commission's Fifteen-Year Report would not learn that, according to one study by the Commission's staff,
interjudge disparity decreased by only one week per case. This reader also would not learn that, according to another staff study, this
disparity actually increased by three weeks per case. Instead, the reader would discover statements like this: Rigorous statistical
study both inside and outside the Commission confirm [sic] that the guidelines have succeeded at the job they were principally
designed to do: reduce unwarranted disparity arising from differences among judges… . The "primary judge effect" was reduced by
approximately one third to one half with the implementation of the guidelines, and "interaction [*100] effects" have been reduced
even more substantially. The Commission's assertion to the contrary notwithstanding, the
best judgment is that the
Sentencing Guidelines have failed at the job they were principally designed to do. The small
reduction in interjudge disparity reported by the Commission seems attributable mostly to the mandatory minimum sentences
rather than the Guidelines, and the reduction accomplished by both devices together was probably less than the Parole Commission
achieved in the pre-Guidelines period. The Sentencing Commission's 258-box sentencing grid appears to have lived in vain.
Indeterminate – AT: Rehabilitation Fails
Rehabilitation works and saves money.
Christopher Slobogin, Fall 2011, [Milton Underwood Professor of Law, Vanderbilt
University Law School, "Prevention As The Primary Goal Of Sentencing: The Modern Case For
Indeterminate Dispositions In Criminal Cases", San Diego Law Review
https://digital.sandiego.edu/sdlr/vol48/iss4/4/?utm_source=digital.sandiego.edu%2Fsdlr
%2Fvol48%2Fiss4%2F4&utm_medium=PDF&utm_campaign=PDFCoverPages //DMcD]
E. Objections 7, 8, and 9: Indeterminate Sentencing and Treatment, Cost, and Offender Morale
Indeterminate sentencing would be focused on reducing risk through rehabilitative efforts . Two
traditional objections to this approach are that rehabilitation seldom works and that, in any
event, it is extremely costly. A related objection is that when release decisions depend on back-end calculations by
correctional officials - as is the case with indeterminate sentencing - rather than front-end evaluations by judges - as occurs under
either determinate sentencing or limiting retributivism - unequal treatment, demoralized offenders, and cynicism about the system
are more likely. [*1166] Rehabilitation is not a panacea. But even
the criminal behavior of sex offenders, who are
a particularly difficult group to treat, can be reduced through modern treatment programs. For
instance, a review of sex offender treatment programs around the world found that, on average,
treatment cut sexual recidivism almost by half, from 17% to 10%, and general recidivism by more
than a third, from 51% to 32%. Metareviews of other offender treatment programs , especially those using
cognitive-behavioral therapy, show similar reductions in recidivism. These figures represent a major public
health improvement in all senses of the term. Comprehensive correctional programs obviously cost more than a prison
system that merely aims at exacting punishment. Indeterminate sentencing, correctly implemented, requires periodic
evaluations and hearings, treatment teams, and rehabilitation resources in the community as well as in places of confinement.
Once established, however, community programs are less expensive on a per capita basis than
institutions and are much better at reducing recidivism than institutions , which tend to
exacerbate it. Overarching societal costs must also be taken into account. The cost of a typical life of crime is estimated to be at
least $ 1.3 million. Rehabilitation shortens that type of life. It also shortens time spent incarcerated and under state
supervision, resulting in further savings. Of course, all of these programs can take place in a determinate sentencing
regime as well. But the legal basis for treatment in a determinate regime is much weaker. A constitutional right to treatment,
designed to reduce risk, does not exist in a system in which desert is the goal because treatment is not relevant to that goal; offenders
do not "deserve" treatment. In any event, a treatment orientation does not sit [*1167] well in a retributive framework. Treatment in
the community, which should be a dispositional staple of indeterminate sentencing, does not translate easily into retributive
punishment, which is usually associated with some type of institutionalization. Furthermore, because
sentences are set at
the front end in both a determinate sentencing regime and a regime based on limiting retributivism, success
at treatment has no effect on release, a feature that presumably diminishes the incentive to
participate in rehabilitative programs in the first instance. The front-end nature of determinate systems is seen by
some as a major benefit, however, because it eliminates the potential for discriminatory or arbitrary decisions about release.
Undoubtedly, such a potential exists, especially if correctional personnel are ill-trained, risk-averse, or lethargic. Furthermore, even
a well-run program may strike some offenders as unfair when they see another offender convicted of the same offense released
before they are, or when they are not released despite what they perceive to be good faith efforts to reform. The latter phenomenon
can be exacerbated by risk assessment techniques that rely primarily or wholly on static factors such as age at time of offense,
gender, and prior criminal history, about which the offender can do nothing. These concerns can be addressed in part by ensuring
that trained professionals conduct periodic reviews based on structured professional judgments that take into account clinical and
management risk factors as well as historical ones. An additional advantage of these structured [*1168] assessments is that they
ensure transparency about the decisionmaking process. Together with the periodic review requirement, they are arguably much less
subject to abuse than the everyday charging and bargaining decisions made by prosecutors, which are notoriously difficult to
monitor and result in extremely disparate verdicts, yet form the sole bases for sentences in determinate sentencing regimes.
Unfortunately, abuses
of discretion occur in any system. It is not clear that indeterminate sentencing
is worse than any other system in that regard.
AT: Discretion Bad – Checks
Sentencing commissions and higher justice appeals check disparate
sentencing.
Paratore et. al. ’14 [JASON M. PARATORE and JOURDAN E. BOWMAN; Experts in
indeterminate sentencing guidelines and criminology, writing for the Encyclopedia of
Criminology and Criminal Justice, an international, comprehensive reference tool for the field of
Criminology and Criminal Justice that is both cutting edge as well as of very high scientific
quality and prestige; 1-22-2014; Volumes 1-5; The Encyclopedia of Criminology and Criminal
Justice,; https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/9781118517383.wbeccj167; Accessed
6-26-2020; RG-Camp]
In an effort to eliminate disparity in sentencing, commissions were established to develop
guidelines to assist judges with sentencing. The United States Sentencing Commission (USSC) was created
by the 1984 Sentencing Reform Act (SRA) and is responsible for overseeing and evaluating federal-court
sentencing procedures. The Commission is responsible for the creation of the Federal Sentencing Guidelines, which replaced
indeterminate sentencing. Unlike some commissions that were created by Congress, the USSC began as a permanent, seven-member
committee, whose members are appointed by the President and approved by Congress. Further, each member serves a six-year term.
Passage of the SRA essentially eliminated indeterminate sentencing in the federal judiciary. It has been suggested that the basis for
SRA was the belief by some that politics and ideology influenced federal trial-court judges’ sentencing decisions in criminal cases.
Interestingly, no more than four members with the same political party affiliation can serve on the Commission at any one time
(Bibas, Schanzenbach, and Tiller 2009). The
mandate of the sentencing commission was to establish
sentencing guidelines for federal offenses. As a result, sentences of federal district
court judges are currently guided by determinate sentences prescribed in the
Federal Sentencing Guidelines (Thompson 2006).
Following the establishment of a federal sentencing commission, many states
established sentencing
commissions to oversee the development of sentencing guidelines and review
sentences of offenders convicted in major trial courts; depending on the jurisdiction, these courts are referred
to as criminal courts, district courts, orfelony courts.
One criticism of the Apprendi decision is that the sentencing authority must find an offender’s crime to be unnecessarily heinous or
cruel in order to deny the offender the option of parole; however, some parole boards are not guided by the same standard when
denying parole. This is not true in all states. In states where a prisoner is presumptively entitled to parole release, the denial of
parole usually results in inmates serving maximum sentences. During 2007, a lawsuit was filed for New York inmates alleging they
were being denied parole based on the severity of their offenses. Subsequent
to the lawsuit, parole authorities,
adhering to corrected parole guidelines, granted new hearings for all eligible offenders (Roberts
2007).
Indeterminate sentencing among states is characterized by considerable variation. Depending on the state, it may be described as
discretionary or nondiscretionary, guided or unguided, and structured or unstructured. Discretionary indeterminate sentencing
occurs when judges choose sentences from ranges within the authorized spectrum of punishments. Nondiscretionary indeterminate
sentencing occurs when the legislature has set an indeterminate range of punishments that the judge must use based on an
offender’s charge. Unguided and discretionary indeterminate sentencing reflects how indeterminate sentencing was first
approached, that is, judges had complete discretion for sentencing. Guided and discretionary indeterminate sentencing is based on 4
Indeterminate Sentencing guidelines, established by legislators, that sentencing authorities must follow when setting sentencing
ranges (Chanenson 2005). Even so, most
offenders serving parole-eligible sentences are released from
prison early based on decisions by parole boards.
AT: Discretion Bad – It’s Good
Discretion is good – only specialized judges with direct contact
with offenders can tailor sentences.
Tonry ’99 [Michael; Papers from the Executive Sessions on Sentencing and Corrections No.
2; U.S. Department of Justice Office of Justice Programs National Institute of Justice; 9-1999;
“Reconsidering Indeterminate and Structured Sentencing“; Sentencing & Corrections Issues for
the 21st Century; https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/nij/175722.pdf; Accessed 6-25-2020; RG-
Camp]
Delegation of authority. Indeterminate sentencing places decision making authority in the hands of
officials who are in direct contact with the offender and his or her circumstances. This parallels
developments in the private sector, where in recent years shifting authority downward—as close to the customer as
possible—has commonly come to be seen as desirable. The closer decision making is to individual
customers (or prisoners), the less likely it is that decisions will be based on inaccurate or
incomplete information or stereotypes.
Professionalization. Indeterminate sentencing assumes that judges and corrections officials have
specialized knowledge and experience that can be used to design effective programs, control risks to the
public, and aid in offender reform. The satisfaction, professional self-esteem, and effectiveness of
corrections officials are probably enhanced as a result.
"Rehabilitation," observed Wechsler, later the primary draftsman of the Model Penal Code (American Law Institute 1962), "is
in itself a social value of importance, a value, it is well to note, that is and ought to be the prime goal"
(1961, p. 468). Under the code, judges in every case could [*122] impose any lawful sentence from unsupervised probation to the
maximum authorized by law. There were no mandatory minimum sentences and no probation ineligibility laws. Parole boards could
release prisoners any time after they became eligible. The code created presumptions against the use of imprisonment in every case,
including homicides, and in favor of parole release. Prison officials could grant time off for good behavior.
a. The Recidivist Premium. Some writers, including George Fletcher (1978), Richard Singer (1979), and Mirko Bagaric (2010), reject the
recidivist premium in principle. Their logic is that punishing repeat offenders more severely because of their prior convictions is double counting. The
increment of additional punishment for the new crime is in effect additional punishment for earlier ones. The constitutional doctrine of double
jeopardy forbids the state to try someone twice for the same crime. By extension, the state should not punish someone twice for the same crime .
The few efforts that have been made by retributivists to justify the recidivist premium are
unpersuasive. I am not alone in my skepticism. Richard Lippke (2016, p. 17) surveyed the arguments and similarly concluded,
"Like others, I find the arguments given on behalf of recidivist premiums unconvincing."
One unconvincing argument is that repeat offenders who commit new offenses are more
blameworthy than first offenders because previous convictions impose special obligations not to offend again (Lee 2010).
Everyone, however, has a civic responsibility not to commit crimes. It is hard to explain why the
responsibility to obey the law is greater for the previously convicted. It cannot be because greater knowledge or selfcontrol can
reasonably be imputed to them. Most repeat offenders no doubt know that behavior they contemplate is unlawful, but so do most
first offenders. Members
of both groups sometimes commit offenses under extreme social,
economic, or circumstantial pressures, or influenced [*34] by deviant subcultural norms, that
make law-abidingness especially difficult. This might or might not make individuals less blameworthy, but it offers
no basis for differentiating between first-time and repeat offenders.
Other unconvincing arguments supporting the recidivist premium assert that repeat offending is
evidence of bad character or constitutes disrespect or defiance of the court, the criminal law, or the state (Bennett 2010;
Lee 2017). If any of these considerations were taken seriously, it would require that specific increments of punishment be attributed
to character flaws or traits. Punishments for a subsequent crime could be deconstructed into the conventional X months that would
be imposed for a first robbery and an increment of Y months, for example, for bad character. Defiance, disrespectfulness,
and bad character, however, are not criminal offenses. They might be punishable in China, but not in a liberal
democratic state.
Von Hirsch (1986, 2017) has argued that punishments should be discounted for first offenses, and possibly one or a few more. This is
a different kind of argument than those justifying the recidivist premium even though the result, punishing repeat offenders more
severely than first offenders, is the same. It is based on the premise that first and early offenses may have resulted from
extraordinary circumstances or otherwise have been "out of character" and thus warrant less-than-deserved punishment. This is a
contingent characterological claim about first offenders: they may, on average, be more responsible people than recidivists are and
should be given the benefit of the doubt. There may be good policy reasons to give first offenders benefits of doubts, and this often
happens (Braithwaite 2018), but justifying them as reflections of hypothesized good or bad character is as troubling here as
elsewhere. Von Hirsch in any case, once the first or early offender discount is exhausted, would not allow increased punishments on
account of former offenses.
Contrary to any argument that can be made for the recidivist premium, an empirically grounded
argument can be made that prior convictions should mitigate rather than aggravate
punishments for subsequent crimes. Collateral social and legal effects of convictions make it foreseeably more difficult
for former offenders than for nonoffenders to live law-abiding lives (Ashworth and Wasik 2017). Research showing that
imprisonment makes people more, not less, likely to commit subsequent offenses confirms this (e.g., Nagin, Cullen, and Jonson
2009).
b. The Bulk Discount. No one rejects the bulk discount in principle, with the tentative exception of Jesper Ryberg (2017),
who canvasses possible [*135] arguments for it and finds none he judges to be persuasive. 15 Lippke (2011) offers the most
extensive analysis to date of what a jurisprudence of bulk discounts, taken seriously, might look like and shows that it would be
immensely complex and not generally justifiable.
Policy justifications have been offered. One is that no punishment should be so "crushing" that it
deprives a person of a large fraction of his or her remaining life ( Jareborg 1998; Ashworth and Wasik 2017)
or a high proportion of the prime years of life (Bottoms 1998 ). A second is that bulk discounts can be justified as
extensions of mercy based on judges' holistic assessments of offenders' lives and
blameworthiness (Bottoms 2017). These propositions, however, are ad hoc, unimbedded in broader
general theories, and ungeneralizable. The policy they try to justify is no doubt desirable, lest individuals suffer
extreme punishments based on the fortuity that they have been charged with more rather than fewer offenses, but it cannot be
justified in terms of retributive theories.
There is convincing empirical evidence that majorities of the public, judges, and offenders approve of both the bulk discount and the
recidivist premium (Roberts 2008; Roberts and De Keijser 2017). Some argue that those broadly shared intuitions justify the
paradox either because democratic values require acknowledgment of and deference to widely shared beliefs or because failure to do
so will undermine the legitimacy of law and the legal process in citizens' minds (Roberts 2011; Ryberg and Roberts 2014). Common
intuitions, however, by themselves cannot offer a principled justification for anything. Widely shared intuitions, for example, about
racial, gender, ethnic, and sexual preference differences, or in our time about the moral worthiness of immigrants, are often
empirically indefensible and normatively repellent.
c. Empirical Reality. No one has satisfactorily offered principled justification for why punitive
punches should be pulled when people are sentenced for multiple offenses but swung harder
when they have previously been convicted. This is not a small failure. These issues arise in a large
majority of criminal cases. The typical defendant is not a first-timer charged with a single offense but a recidivist
offender charged with multiple offenses.
b. An assessment of blameworthiness
Tonry 18 [Michael Tonry is professor of law and public policy, University of Minnesota,
“ Punishment and Human Dignity: Sentencing Principles for Twenty-First-Century America, 47
Crime & Just. 119”, 2018, https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/696948?af=R&]
Blameworthiness. Most
retributive theories assume that assessments of blameworthiness can be
made more or less objectively, on the basis of the offense of conviction perhaps modified by circumstances
such as weapon use, gratuitous violence, or a victim's special vulnerability that seem inextricably related to moral assessment of the
seriousness of the crime. Serious
arguments have been made, however, that decisions about
punishment should incorporate subjective assessments of the offender's
blameworthiness and of the foreseeable effects of contemplated punishments on
him or her as a unique individual.
Assessments of blameworthiness are difficult and contested. Nothing inherent in any retributive theory entails a particular
approach. Assessments and resulting punishments might be based, objectively, solely on the
seriousness of the crimes of which individuals are convicted or, subjectively, on crimes' distinctive
features and the social, psychological, economic, and situational circumstances causally related to their
commission (von Hirsch 1976; Tonry 2014). Criminal law in English-speaking countries takes no account of motives, caring only
about the classic mens rea categories of intention, knowledge, recklessness, and negligence, and allows only limited space for
defenses of duress, necessity, immaturity, [*138] emotional distress, and mental disability and usually none at all for harms
resulting from imperfect self-defense and other honest but unreasonable mistakes. If
the substantive criminal law does
not take account of these and other complexities of human lives, decisions about punishment can
incorporate what Hart (1968) approvingly called informal mitigation. Nigel Walker (1991) proposed that, if retributivists
take moral blameworthiness seriously, assessments should be subjective. That, he observed, is how the Recording Angel would do it.
A similar question can be asked about the effects of punishments on individuals . Adam Kolber (2009)
and others have proposed that judges making punishment decisions take account of their foreseeable
subjective effects on individuals. Otherwise, the suffering caused by seemingly generic
punishments will be radically different. Claustrophobic and mentally ill people, for example, will be affected by close
confinement substantially differently than are people who are not similarly afflicted. Confinement of people with dependent children
will have substantially different direct and collateral effects than does confinement of the childless. Imprisonment may mean very
different things to a young gang leader, a flamboyantly gay man, an employed middle-aged parent, and someone who is seriously ill.
To ignore such things in relation to comparably culpable people, however culpability is measured, is to accept huge differences in the
pains imposed on them.
Walker, Hart, and Kolber make much the better arguments. Systems
of punishment that ignore
fundamental differences in offenders' subjective blameworthiness, or radical
differences in the effects on them of ostensibly generic punishments, cannot be
reasonably described as just.
AT: Mandatory Minimum Alt Cause
The guidelines are specifically key – they’re harsher than
mandatory minimums and supercharge Congressional mistakes.
Paul Hofer, Spring 2016, [Senior Policy Analyst, Sentencing Resource Counsel Project of the
Federal Public and Community Defenders., "After Ten Years Of Advisory Guidelines, And Thirty
Years Of Mandatory Minimums, Federal Sentencing Still Needs Reform", Toledo Law Review
https://heinonline.org/HOL/LandingPage?
handle=hein.journals/utol47&div=40&id=&page= //DMcD]
III. Reform Goes Wrong
The SRA was signed into law on October 12, 1984, and the Commission set to work. Even before the Guidelines became
effective on November 1, 1987, problems began to arise. Congress passed mandatory minimum legislation that was
piecemeal and reactive and betrayed the SRA's thoughtful approach. The Commission made highly consequential
decisions that, in retrospect, must be considered tragic mistakes. The resulting system of both
sentencing guidelines and mandatory minimums shifted significant discretion to
prosecutors and routinely required judges to impose sentences far greater than
necessary to achieve the purposes of sentencing. A. An Unbalanced System The failure of the SRA
has been widely recognized. Even the Commission's own fifteen-year evaluation noted that "the goals of sentencing reform
have been only partially achieved." Outside observers were far less [*658] measured. Practitioners and evaluators declared the
federal system a "disaster," a "mess," and "a cure worse than the disease." Others were more
moderate, but very few found things to like. Some who initially defended the Guidelines grew
disillusioned. Judges, including some who liked the idea of guidelines, rejected the version promulgated as
"pseudo-scientific," "unduly rigid[]," and a "dismal failure." Judge Frankel, the "father of sentencing reform,"
called upon the Commission to identify "what we mean to achieve, and what we may in fact achieve, as we continue to mete out long
prison sentences." An inescapable conclusion emerged: "Twenty-five years have produced a strong and
informed consensus that the first bold and hopeful round of federal sentencing reform has
largely failed." How did a reform born of good intentions lead to such a bad result? Michael Tonry, a leading scholar of
sentencing law, has noted that sentencing and sentencing policy can serve both "overt" and "latent" functions. The [*659] purposes
of sentencing outlined in the statutes are the overt goals used to justify punishment. However, sentencing can also serve latent
functions, such as personal career advancement, partisan political advantage, and the promotion of ideological agendas. Members of
Congress legitimately want to assure the public they are committed to public safety, but may also play on public fears to gain
political advantage. Without contact with real cases and defendants, they envision extreme cases. The Department of Justice
legitimately enforces the laws, but also wants to minimize the time and effort needed to process cases. Individual prosecutors
legitimately want to win meritorious cases, but also may want to advance their careers. Ensuring that a fearsome government power
like criminal sentencing is exercised according to our highest ideals requires a system of checks and balances. The SRA envisioned
such a system, with power to make sentencing rules and set individual sentences distributed among the Commission, Congress, the
Department of Justice, sentencing judges, courts of appeals, probation officers, prosecutors, and defense counsel. Unfortunately,
federal sentencing reform has demonstrated the dangers of imbalances of power among key players. A former supporter of the
guideline has noted: "The failures of the guidelines can be traced to the breakdown of the institutional
balance the Sentencing Reform Act was supposed to create . Power has consolidated in the hands of
prosecutors at the case level and an alliance of the Department of Justice with Congress at the policy level." The balance began
to break down immediately. By the time the original Commissioners began their work, the SRA's vision of neutral expert
policymaking had faded in favor of "tough on crime" politics. The political branches began to undermine the
Commission's independence. The [*660] Commission did not or could not insulate itself from these influences, and
sought ways to accommodate the new environment. For example, in one of the most consequential of its early decisions, the
Commission responded to the ADAA by promulgating guidelines for drug trafficking that adopted the quantity thresholds in the
statute and went even farther, resulting in a guideline even more severe than the statute. Early amendments to other guidelines, in
the words of a Commissioner who resigned, inflicted "gratuitous punishment" for reasons that were "overtly political and inexpert."
Instead of insulating sentencing and policy making from political pressures, the Guidelines and mandatory minimums became new
vehicles for centralized, political control. B. Guidelines Disconnected from the Purposes of Sentencing
Congress deliberately declined to prioritize one purpose of sentencing over another in the SRA. It was up to the Commission to
reconcile the purposes in cases of conflict, explain what purposes the Guidelines aimed to accomplish, and how the specific
provisions were meant to accomplish them. But the original Commissioners could not agree , and eventually claimed
it didn't matter. One commentator summarized the Commission's position like this: "Since people disagree over the aims of
sentencing, it is best to have no rationale at all." Another noted that " the
federal sentencing guidelines have not
been designed or applied in a manner explicitly intended to achieve specific purposes of
sentencing," and this failure "underlies many of the system's critics' strongest complaints. " Soon after
the Supreme Court declared the Guidelines advisory, the Commission asserted that the Guidelines somehow implement all of the
Commission
purposes of sentencing without explaining how they do so. [*661] 1. The Myth of Past Practice The original
claimed that it solved its philosophical impasse by adopting an "empirical approach" that based
the Guidelines largely on past practice. Post-Booker Supreme Court decisions have accepted this claim as a reason
why judges may find the Guidelines' recommendations worth following. The Commission's research on past practice appears in The
Supplementary Report on the Initial Sentencing Guidelines and Policy Statements. Commission staff conducted statistical analyses
of a sample of 10,500 cases sentenced in 1985, and established guideline "offense levels" and "specific offense characteristics" based
on this data. But this account greatly overstates the initial guidelines' relation to average past practice, a relation that is even more
tenuous today after hundreds of amendments have increased severity. In the words of a former Commissioner, " the
methodology described in the original introduction less aptly reflects most of the current
guidelines than the U.S. Supreme Court seems to realize . The proliferation of congressional directives and other
statutory changes, and the Commission's implementation of both, along with some important Commission initiatives along
the way have changed sentences for many offenses substantially from the averages of pre-guideline
practice." The initial guidelines diverged from past practice in ways that almost always resulted in
greater severity. Analyses of past practice focused on aggravating factors, and largely ignored
mitigating ones. The Commission [*662] intentionally departed from the data when a
majority of Commissioners decided to do so, most famously for "white collar" offenses but also
for others. And most consequentially, as the Supreme Court has noted, the Commission abandoned the use of past
practice for offenses subject to mandatory minimums . 2. The Linkage to Mandatory Minimums For most of the
guidelines era, drug trafficking offenses were the largest category of crime sentenced in the federal courts. Under the drug trafficking
guideline the starting point for determining the guideline range is the Drug Quantity Table, and offense levels in this Table were
legislation
linked to the thresholds and penalties in the ADAA. This set a pattern repeated throughout the guidelines era in which
frequently overrode or micromanaged Commission policymaking . The penalties in the ADAA were among
the first, and arguably the most egregious, instance of congressional actions disconnecting the Guidelines from sentencing purposes.
Publicity and anxiety surrounding the death of basketball star Len Bias from a cocaine overdose led Congress to hastily enact the
ADAA, and it made some major mistakes. The penalty scheme in the Act was based [*663] on two false assumptions: first, that a
defendant's role in the offense necessarily corresponds to the quantity of drugs with which they are involved; and second, that the
quantity thresholds chosen for the ten-year minimum reflected the role of "kingpin" and the thresholds for the five-year minimum
reflected the role of "middle-level dealer[]." These flaws were compounded two years later, when the Omnibus Anti-Drug Abuse Act
of 1988 expanded the quantity-based approach to convictions for conspiracy to distribute drugs. This had the effect of attributing
large quantities to even minor players, such as someone hired to drive a vehicle loaded with drugs, over which they had no control,
from which they would not profit, and of which they may not have even been aware. These were only the earliest of the
mandatory minimums Congress would enact in the guidelines era. Mandatory consecutive sentence
enhancements of five, seven, or ten years, and even life imprisonment, were added for possession or use of various types of weapons
in connection with drug trafficking or violent crimes. Mandatory minimums were added for sexual abuse and child pornography
offenses, aggravated identity theft, and more. By 2008, the total number of mandatory penalty provisions in the federal code
numbered at least 171. Problems with mandatory minimums were compounded by the way the
Commission responded to them. By law, whenever a statutory minimum is above the applicable guideline range,
the statute trumps the range. The Commission added Guideline § 5G1.1 to acknowledge this legal reality
and technically incorporate the statutory limits into the Guidelines . But more than that, the original
Commission chose to peg the Guidelines for offenses subject to mandatory minimums to the statutes. Guidelines for drug
trafficking were set so that penalties for first offenders with drug amounts meeting the statutory
[*664] thresholds exceeded the statutory minimum penalties, even if no other aggravating
factors were present. It also expanded the two statutory thresholds into a Drug Quantity Table (DQT) with 17 levels, with
corresponding punishments below, between, and above the thresholds specified in the statutes. The Commission later found that
this incremental expansion contributed 25 percent of the average prison time for drug offenders, and it reduced DQT offense levels
by two, at first for crack cocaine and later for all drugs. But the 17 levels and linkage to statutory thresholds still remains. According
to the Commission's Fifteen Year Review: No other decision of the Commission has had such a profound impact on the federal
prison population. The drug
trafficking guideline … in combination with the relevant conduct rule … had the effect of
increasing prison terms far above what had been typical in past practice , and in many cases above
the level required by the literal terms of the mandatory minimum statutes. Because drug
sentences were so severe, "proportionality" with other types of offenses was destroyed, leading to pressure to ratchet up sentences
for other crimes. Mandatory sentence enhancements for possession or use of a firearm during an
offense also created additional increases in severity, as well as many other problems. At the very
dawn of the guidelines era, the Commission's policymaking was crucially shaped by mandatory
minimum penalties that were fundamentally incompatible with the guidelines system envisioned by
the SRA. 3. Statutory Directives Congress made frequent use of an additional legislative tool - statutory directives
to the Commission - to shape the Guidelines. Statutory directives range from general to specific. General directives
instruct the Commission to study a particular issue and report back to Congress or amend the Guidelines if [*665] the Commission
determines it is needed. General directives have been encouraged by the Commission as an alternative to mandatory minimums and
specific directives. In contrast, specific directives require the Commission to take particular actions. Some direct the Commission to
study an issue but then increase guideline ranges in any event; others require the Commission to increase guideline ranges for
certain categories of offenders, or set a guideline at a particular level of severity, or add particular adjustments to the Guidelines. It is
noteworthy that unambiguous statutory directives are even more binding on the Commission (though
not on sentencing judges) than are mandatory minimum penalties . The Commission must comply with unambiguous
congressional directives, even if it determines that the directive is contrary to the goals of the SRA. A few specific directives were
included in the SRA itself. But after initial promulgation of the Guidelines, the Act contemplated the Commission would revise them
based on research and consultation, and send the results to Congress for review after a period of notice and comment. The
amendments would then become law absent congressional action. The Act did not anticipate continued and frequent congressional
intervention in the Guidelines. As things turned out, however, Congress
has enacted well over a hundred
directives, generating nearly as many guideline amendments. The overwhelming majority
either directly increased guideline ranges or had that [*666] effect. Moreover, "not only has the
frequency of congressional directives increased, but their content has pushed progressively deeper into the core functions of the
Sentencing Commission." Congressional micro-management of the Guidelines reached a peak in the
PROTECT Act of 2003, where Congress directly amended several provisions of the Guidelines Manual, completely
bypassing the notice and comment procedures that the Commission itself must use when it amends the Guidelines. Early in the
guidelines era, the Commission sometimes resisted congressional micromanagement and sought to
assert the role envisioned for it in the SRA. One Commissioner resigned in frustration as political
considerations dominated and research was neglected. In an important 1991 report, the Commission
made a case for its institutional role and explained how the Guidelines and mandatory minimums are "policies in conflict."
Congress, however, continued to enact mandatory minimums and specific directives and to influence the Commission's actions in
other less visible ways. By the time of the Booker decision, the Commission seemed resigned to its diminished policy-making role
and became an active apologist for congressional policies it had once resisted. 4. Disconnected and Unexplained
Guidelines To decide whether to follow the Guidelines in a particular case, judges need to understand how they were intended to
achieve the statutory purposes of sentencing. Without this, applying the Guidelines is merely mechanical, an end
in itself rather than a means to the statutory ends. To recognize when a guideline is missing the mark, judges need an explanation
of how this particular offense level, with these particular adjustments, were meant to track the seriousness of the offense, or identify
offenders who need to be incapacitated for public safety, or rehabilitate the offender. The statutory purposes are stated [*667]
generally, but the Guidelines are very detailed, adding small and large units of punishment for numerous aggravating factors. There
are countless ways for the many different adjustments to go wrong or to interact in
unpredictable ways. The original Commission could not agree on a consistent theory underlying
the Guidelines and neither they nor subsequent Commissions have explained the purposes of
sentencing are advanced by the Guidelines as a whole, or any particular guideline or guideline
amendment. The failure to clearly explain and justify the Guidelines also meant the Commission
had no principles with which to resist political interference . As one of many examples, in
response to a perceived epidemic of use among the young, Congress directed the Commission in 2000 to increase penalties for
"ecstasy." The Commission amended the Guidelines to treat ecstasy more severely than powder cocaine and to treat a typical dose of
ecstasy as severely as four to ten doses of heroin. But the Commission had received extensive information from the scientific and
medical communities in public comment and testimony showing that ecstasy is less harmful than cocaine or heroin, so this
treatment could not be justified by the sentencing purpose of punishment proportionate to the seriousness of the crime. It is also
well-established that increases
in punishment for a crime do not deter others from committing it , so
this purpose can also not justify the amendment . If the Commission had designed the drug guidelines based on a
theory of punishment - for example, matching the severity of punishment to the harmfulness of the drug - it would have been in a
better position to explain to [*668] Congress why its directive was misguided. But, when "there is little sense that the Guidelines
have been carefully calibrated to punish proportionately to the seriousness of the crime, then Congress, or the Commission itself,
feels less pressure to avoid actions that would distort proportionality." The Commission's explanations of its amendments have
generally been minimal and often inscrutable. The chief reason the Commission cannot provide specific
explanations of how the Guidelines achieve the statutory purposes is that it cannot honestly
do so, given that the origin of many of the guidelines lies in mandatory minimums and congressional directives. Any other
explanation would be post hoc rationalization. Unlike the Commission, Congress is under no obligation to ensure that its policies
meet the purposes of sentencing, to conduct empirical research, or to consult with all stakeholders. Nor is Congress obliged to
ensure that its various enactments are consistent with each other, or with the Guidelines, or with any overarching theory of how to
best achieve the purposes of sentencing. Congress is free to legislate piecemeal in response to a highly publicized case, or in response
to lobbying by the Department of Justice or other interest groups seeking sentence increases for purposes other than those set forth
in § 3553(a). If the Commission cannot be persuaded to increase penalties, the Department has not hesitated to threaten, and to
seek, the necessary legislation from Congress. In the words of Professor Frank Bowman, a former federal prosecutor, the truth is
that the Guidelines have been amended in a "one-way upward ratchet increasingly divorced from considerations of sound public
policy and even from the commonsense judgments of frontline sentencing professionals who apply the rules." Another consequence
of congressional micromanagement has been that the sources and responsibility for the sentences reflected in the Guidelines has
been obscured. When defendants receive mandatory minimum sentences, Congress's responsibility for the sentences is clear. Many
judges have felt compelled to explain to defendants that their judgment is that a mandatory minimum sentence [*669] is unfair and
excessive. The public then understands the basis for the sentence and the political mechanisms that created and could change the
penalties. But given the roles defined for judges and the Commission by the SRA, responsibility for guideline sentences is not clear.
Does the guideline recommendation reflect the Commission's institutional expertise and the procedures outlined in the SRA? Does
the sentence reflect the judge's reliance on that expertise to conclude that the sentence is fair and achieves the purposes of
sentencing? Defendants and the public should be able to expect that the Guidelines reflect careful study by an expert agency located
in the Judicial Branch charged with marshalling the best empirical research available for the development of sentencing policy.
Congressional micromanagement of guideline development confounds these expectations and has risked violating a warning in
Mistretta, the case that upheld the guidelines against a Separation of Powers constitutional challenge: "The legitimacy of the Judicial
Branch ultimately depends on its reputation for impartiality and nonpartisanship. That reputation may not be borrowed by the
political Branches to cloak their work in the neutral colors of judicial action." Unfortunately, today's
Guidelines do cloak
penalties created by the political branches as the product of an independent agency in the
Judicial Branch.
AT: States CP
No solvency – states use indeterminate sentencing to apply LWOP
sentences
Mark Mauer and Ashley Nellis, 2018, Mauer-executive director of the Sentencing Project,
a group that advocates for criminal justice reform and addressing racial disparities in the United
States criminal-justice system, Nellis- senior research analyst for The Sentencing Project, The
Meaning of Life, https://thenewpress.com/books/meaning-of-life, 6-25-2020/Khan
States with indeterminate sentencing structures that allow for a greater degree of judicial
discretion have also contributed to the expansion of life sentences by extending sentencing
ranges up to life imprisonment. Such policies have led to high proportions of lifesentenced
prisoners with the possibility of parole in Colorado, Nevada, and Utah. Utah’s sentencing
scheme calls for a range of five years to life imprisonment for first-degree felony convictions
(which include categories of non-capital murder, sex offenses, and kidnapping). Nearly a third
(30 percent) of people in prison in Utah are serving life with the possibility of parole, the highest
proportion in the country. The state Board of Pardons and Parole notes on its website that the
Board assumes jurisdiction over the individual upon admission, and, “when a person is sent to
prison in Utah, the offender must serve the entire sentence imposed, unless the Board acts to
release the offender prior to the expiration of the sentence.” 1 Though most individuals are
considered for parole, the Board has the authority to deny future parole hearings for anyone
who appears before them. Thus, a life with parole sentence can be transformed into a life
without parole sentence
Framing
**Their reading of the history of incarceration is flawed – the
prison can be used for rehabilitation, it’s recent shifts to
retributionist mentalities that led to current problems.
Jalila Jefferson-Bullock, 2016, [Jalila Jefferson-Bullock is an Associate Professor of
Law at Arizona Summit Law School. She received her A.B. from Harvard College in 1997, M.A.
in the Humanities from the University of Chicago in 1999, and J.D. from Harvard Law School in
2001., "How Much Punishment Is Enough?: Embracing Uncertainty In Modern Sentencing
Reform", Journal Of Law And Policy
https://brooklynworks.brooklaw.edu/jlp/vol24/iss2/2/ //DMcD]
The American prison system is borne of the rehabilitative model , and "[t]he concept of rehabilitation
[has] decisively determined Western society's preference for incarceration as a mode of
punishment." Historically, prisons and jails were institutions where offenders could separate from
society to reflect on their misdeeds and contemplate return following an improved moral
condition. Oddly, the principal purpose of punishment radically changed while the
punishment distribution tool remained unaffected. SRA reforms abandoned
rehabilitation, thereby promoting retribution and deterrence to punishment purpose
prominence. However, this shift in punishment purpose was not accompanied by any contemplated
or realized shift in punishment method. The new Sentencing Guidelines strongly favored
custody over probation for most offenses. Reformers concluded that prisons lacked the capacity to
rehabilitate, yet failed to fully consider whether prisons were capable of successfully deterring
[*390] crime or properly punishing moral blameworthiness. Confirmation and status quo bias contributed to this
phenomenon. Status quo bias allowed reformers to rely on an established prison regime, while
confirmation bias permitted reformers to rest comfortably in that decision . This is best illustrated
in the case of drug offenses: There is no empirical evidence that prior drug trafficking convictions
are better predictors of future offending than other types of convictions . Nor is there reason to
believe that incapacitation of drug traffickers is a sound crime control policy , since most
incarcerated offenders are readily replaced by others willing to satisfy the unmet demand for
drugs. The best explanation, which is no justification, is that a 'war on drugs' mentality led to the
harsher treatment of drug trafficking offenses apart from any reason grounded in . . .
incapacitation theory. Likewise, recent studies reveal that "there is little evidence of any link between crime
rates and imprisonment," yet status quo bias continues to justify excessive prison terms . Federal
sentencing guidelines purport to meld utilitarian and retributivist theories of punishment, as expressed in the provisions of 18 U.S.C.
§ 3553(a). Among the governing principles of punishment enumerated in the statute are deterrence of specific offenders, crime
prevention, distribution of just punishment, and effective offender rehabilitation. Together, the 3553(a) factors [*391] work
collaboratively to guide judge and Sentencing Commission decisions. According to the Supreme Court: In instructing both the
sentencing judge and the Commission what to do, Congress referred to the basic sentencing objectives that the statute sets forth in
18 U.S.C. § 3553(a) . . . . The provision also tells the sentencing judge to "impose a sentence sufficient, but not greater than
necessary, to comply with" the basic aims of sentencing as set out above. Congressional statutes then tell the Commission to write
Guidelines that will carry out these same § 3553(a) objectives. The Guidelines themselves explicitly proclaim that "[t]he continuing
importance of the guidelines in the sentencing determination is predicated in large part on the Sentencing Reform Act's intent that,
in promulgating guidelines, the Commission must take into account the purposes of sentencing as set forth in 18 U.S.C. § 3553(a)." It
is clear that federal sentences must reflect the 3553(a) factors. Congress
desired that the 3553(a) factors would contribute to a
sentencing scheme that advanced its overarching goal of achieving honesty, proportionality, and
uniformity in sentencing. The 3553(a) factors encompass the two major theories of criminal punishment: utilitarianism
and retributivism. According to 18 U.S.C. § 3553(a)(2): The court shall impose a sentence sufficient, but not greater than necessary,
to comply with the purposes set forth in paragraph (2) of this subsection. The court, in determining the particular sentence to be
imposed, shall consider . . . (2) the need for the sentence imposed-- [*392] (A) to reflect the seriousness of the offense, to promote
respect for the law, and to provide just punishment for the offense; (B) to afford adequate deterrence to criminal conduct; (C) to
protect the public from further crimes of the defendant; and (D) to provide the defendant with needed educational or vocational
training, medical care, or other correctional treatment in the most effective manner. Paragraph (2) expresses both utilitarianism and
retributivism. In declaring that criminal sentences should "reflect the seriousness of the offense" and "provide just punishment for
the offense," paragraph (2)(A) communicates the retributivist concept that an offender should only be
punished according to his individual moral blameworthiness. Paragraphs (2)(B), (2)(C), (2)(D), and the
remainder of (2)(A) illustrate utilitarian concepts. All four sections discuss future crime prevention
through general and specific deterrence and detection, by proclaiming that federal criminal sentences should
"promote respect for the law," "afford adequate deterrence to criminal conduct," "protect the public from further crimes of the
defendant," and "provide the defendant with needed educational or vocational training, medical care, or other correctional
treatment in the most effective manner." All of these factors can be appreciated as abstract theories upon which punishment must
rely. Further, the beginning of § 3553(a)
highlights that imprisonment should both be informed and
shaped by utilitarianism and retributivism. Despite the express provision that rehabilitation is
a governing federal punishment principle, it is in fact not a goal of modern-day
incarceration. Similarly, neither deterrence nor retribution support today's imprisonment model .
Our current sentencing scheme does not deter crime effectively, nor does [*393] it fairly punish
moral blameworthiness. This is troubling, especially because incarceration has emerged as the United
States' chief punishment distribution vehicle. According to Professor Paul H. Robinson, "the system's
general shift . . . has not been accompanied by a corresponding shift in how the system presents
itself."
NEG
Case Answers
No Solvency – Rehabilitation Fails
Inadequate treatments, funding, and training render rehab
impossible.
Tonry ’99 [Michael; Papers from the Executive Sessions on Sentencing and Corrections No.
2; U.S. Department of Justice Office of Justice Programs National Institute of Justice; 9-1999;
“Reconsidering Indeterminate and Structured Sentencing“; Sentencing & Corrections Issues for
the 21st Century; https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/nij/175722.pdf; Accessed 6-25-2020; RG-
Camp]
Inadequate implementation. Some critics argue that corrections
systems seldom if ever carry through on the
implied promises of indeterminate sentencing. Vocational training is often not relevant to the job
market. Psychiatric, psychological, and medical services often are of low quality. Funds are seldom
sufficient to provide a rich array of services tailored to offenders’ needs in prison or in the community. During the height of
indeterminate sentencing, many American prisons were squalid, brutal places.
Turn – Deserved Punishment
Conversely, the aff lets criminals off easy.
Tonry ’99 [Michael; Papers from the Executive Sessions on Sentencing and Corrections No.
2; U.S. Department of Justice Office of Justice Programs National Institute of Justice; 9-1999;
“Reconsidering Indeterminate and Structured Sentencing“; Sentencing & Corrections Issues for
the 21st Century; https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/nij/175722.pdf; Accessed 6-25-2020; RG-
Camp]
Deserved punishments. An additional criticism is that indeterminate sentencing severs the link
between seriousness of crime and severity of punishment. This is not quite the same criticism as the one
leveled at disparities, since severity of offense is only one way in which sentences can be disparate (or comparable). For example,
disparities might be measured in terms of treatment needs or risk assessments. The “deserved punishment” criticism holds that
people should receive particular punishments and that anything less, in the Model Penal Code’s phrase,
“depreciates the seriousness of the crime.” Put more colloquially, a “coddling criminals” complaint has
regularly been lodged against indeterminate sentencing since its beginnings.
Turn – Judicial Discretion => Racial
Disparities
Advisory guidelines are bad – lead to harsher punishments and
increase racial disparities.
Ryan W. Scott, Spring 2016, [Professor, Indiana University Maurer School of Law, "Booker's
Ironies", Toledo Law Review https://www.repository.law.indiana.edu/facpub/2597/ //DMcD]
Introduction
IN January 2005, when the Supreme Court issued its highly anticipated decision in United States v. Booker, few observers were
surprised by the Court's constitutional decision. By a 5-4 margin, the same Justices who had found constitutional defects in state
determinate sentencing schemes in Apprendi v. New Jersey and Blakely v. Washington concluded that the United States Sentencing
Guidelines ("Guidelines") violated the Sixth Amendment right to a jury trial by allowing a judge to find certain aggravating facts that
increased an offender's sentence. By a different 5-4 majority, however, the Court selected a surprising remedy for that constitutional
defect. The Court rendered the Guidelines "effectively advisory," striking down statutory provisions that made the Guidelines
binding on judges. That remedy was unexpected: neither the respondents, nor the government, nor members of Congress, nor any
other amici curiae had suggested it. Booker rocked the federal criminal justice system , generating furious
speculation about its long-term effects. Critics of the Guidelines hailed the [*696] decision as a surprise death blow to a system they
reviled. Judges who had chafed at the Guidelines' mandatory and inflexible rules saw the decision as "a sort of Emancipation
Proclamation." The defense bar was "ecstatic." Supporters of the Guidelines in Congress and the Department of Justice, on the other
hand, issued dire warnings of "wildly divergent" sentencing outcomes and a return to "pre-guideline chaos." Several newspaper
editorials reacted more cautiously, suggesting that the Court "may have stumbled into a reasonable compromise" and urging a wait-
and-see approach. Scholars hoped the decision and its aftermath would afford an opportunity to fix
the federal sentencing system's flaws. But for better or worse, many observers saw the decision as "the end of federal
criminal sentencing as we know it." One immediately apparent feature of the Booker remedy, however, was a
basic irony. According to the Court, the mandatory guidelines were unconstitutional because they
deprived offenders of their Sixth Amendment right to trial by jury. Yet rendering the Guidelines
advisory did not enhance the role of juries at sentencing. To the contrary, in the advisory system,
judicial fact [*697] finding and discretion play an even more prominent role in sentencing
decisions. How could a constitutional holding that judges exercised too much discretion morph into a remedial holding that
judges should enjoy even greater discretion? Eleven years later, Booker's ironies have grown even deeper, calling
into question important premises of the Court's remedial opinion . This Article, drawing on trends in federal
sentencing outcomes and a growing body of empirical research, reevaluates the winners and losers under the advisory guidelines'
regime. In doing so, it highlights two fresh ironies in Booker that have become apparent only after more than a decade of experience.
First, the class
of offenders most harmed by Booker is precisely the class of offenders whose
constitutional rights were being violated under the mandatory guidelines . Under the advisory guidelines,
offenders with credible mitigating facts have emerged as clear winners: average sentence length has declined, while below-range
sentences have tripled in frequency. Yet over the same period, the rate of above-range sentencing has
likewise tripled, meaning that offenders with credible aggravating facts find themselves worse off, both at sentencing and
during plea negotiations that take place in its shadow. Meanwhile, the Court has exacerbated that effect by
stripping defendants with aggravating facts of the procedural right to pre-hearing notice of a
possible above-range sentence. That result is ironic because the Sixth Amendment right to jury fact finding at issue in
Booker concerns only aggravating facts, not mitigating facts. The Constitution, in other words, has nothing to do with the most
important consequences of Booker. Second, contrary to the Court's insistence that advisory guidelines would best vindicate
Congress's intent, it has become clear in the last decade that the Booker
remedy marks a setback for Congress's
key goals. The Sentencing Reform Act was animated by concerns about unwarranted disparity in sentencing decisions, especially
inter-judge disparity and racial disparities. Yet a substantial body of empirical research confirms that inter-
judge sentencing disparity has increased under the advisory guidelines, with numerous studies
finding an increase in the "judge effect." At the same time, a number of researchers have found
that racial disparity in sentencing outcomes has increased [*698] since Booker. That conclusion is
contested, but there is good reason for concern that racial
disparities have worsened under the
advisory guidelines. Those developments suggest that Booker's remedial opinion may have accomplished the opposite of
its stated objective. This Article proceeds in three parts. Part I ("Booker's Background") briefly summarizes the constitutional and
remedial opinions in Booker, taking note of some of the immediately obvious ironies of the remedial opinion. Readers familiar with
the decision and its aftermath should feel free to skip ahead. Part II ("Booker's Casualties") and Part III ("The Booker Backslide") set
out the newly apparent ironies described above. The Conclusion ("Booker's Bargain") acknowledges that some commentators will
find these ironies of the Booker remedy untroubling in light of the decision's other consequences, but urges that they be
incorporated into critical assessments of the decision and its legacy.
Bias and stereotypes. A second recurring criticism is that the broad discretion accorded judges and corrections
officials gives too much rein to their conscious biases or unconscious stereotyping. Offenders
whose lives and backgrounds are far removed from officials’ personal knowledge and experience might receive less
empathy and understanding than those with whom officials have more in common.
This commission would promulgate clear and equitable criteria for release. Applicants would
have notice of the evidence necessary to successfully support a petition for clemency. Newly incarcerated persons would
have an incentive to immediately work to achieve necessary rehabilitation. The general public
would understand and believe that the system is just and broadly available, and not reserved for a privileged few under a secret
process.
Paramount among the criteria would be the consideration of anyone suffering under a sentence because of a failure to retroactively
apply reform. If we, the people, determine that we are no longer willing to seek incarceration for certain
acts, then those who were previously incarcerated for those acts must go free in order for equal
justice under the law to have meaning. Categorical clemency could be granted, for example, to those
serving enhanced sentences where the penalty no longer applies and for those serving long sentences because of a trial
penalty after electing to exercise their constitutional right to trial. Although there is a mechanism for compassionate
release, it is underutilized and when employed, release is often denied. The clemency commission
could be used to clear this backlog of the elderly or inform who deserves to be released.
The executive has the opportunity to remove the scourge of mass incarceration from our
justice system. That scourge informs one in three black boys born today that they can expect to be incarcerated. That
scourge prevents $80 billion from being spent on their education because it is being spent to
incarcerate. When historians look back on what we did during our watch, let them record that we were
enlightened; may they extol the virtue of our quest for equal justice for all and may they
marvel at the expediency with which it was achieved.
The recent Supreme Court jurisprudence, in combination with an executive branch willing to take on harsh sentencing
laws, signals an opportunity to revitalize our federal sentencing regime. There is a rising
recognition that the effects of sentencing on defendants’ lives are just as significant as the
adjudication of innocence or guilt. During the same term that the Court resolved Alleyne, the Court held in Peugh v.
United States that the Ex Post Facto Clause is violated when a defendant is sentenced under new Sentencing Guideline provisions
that result in an increased risk of greater punishment.253 The Court noted that, while the Guidelines are advisory,
judges are still required, under Gall and by statute, to begin their sentencing determination by correctly
calculating the applicable Sentencing Guidelines range.254 While a defendant does not have an “expectation
subject to due process protection” that he will be sentenced within the Guidelines range,255 four Justices recognized that a
defendant charged with an increased punishment for his crime is likely to feel enhanced pressure
to plead guilty.256 Though the Supreme Court did not go so far as to extend this reasoning to uncharged conduct, the
Court did recognize that sentencing guidelines must abide by fundamental concerns of
fairness that animate the Ex Post Facto Clause.257
CP – Judicial Review
Congress should enable judicial review of the guidelines – that brings
transparency to the process and decreases incarceration
Stegner 18. Henry D. Stegner, University of Idaho College of Law J.D., 4-20-2018, "An End
to Arbitrary and Capricious Federal Sentencing Guidelines," University of Idaho Law Review,
https://digitalcommons.law.uidaho.edu/idaho-law-review/vol53/iss3/6/ - AM
VI. A CALL FOR CONGRESS TO MAKE THE GUIDELINES SUBJECT TO THE ARBITRARY AND CAPRICIOUS STANDARD OF JUDICIAL REVIEW
Agencies are not perfect. The Sentencing Commission is not perfect. This is why there needs to be
meaningful judicial review of the Guidelines passed by the Commission . When a rule
is passed without proper consideration, or with no consideration, of the relevant factors set out in the
SRA, a party aggrieved by the rule— most typically a sentenced defendant—should have a meaningful
opportunity to challenge the rule as arbitrary and capricious .212 This would force reviewing courts to provide a
meaningful review of the Commission’s decision-making process. The appellate courts are uniquely capable of reviewing
the Sentencing Commission’s decisions because these courts routinely exercise review of
criminal sentencings. This is unlike many other administrative agency actions where the courts might not have expertise in the substance of
the agency action. To institute arbitrary and capricious review of the Guidelines, Congress should
create a special review provision that can be incorporated in the SRA. “ The APA was meant to bring uniformity
to a field full of variation and diversity.”213 “Some facets of an administrative decision, because they raise issues within the courts'
area of competence, are well suited to judicial oversight.” 214 The standard of judicial review of an agency
action will depend on the agency’s competence in the area. 215 Some facets of administrative decisions are suitable to
stringent judicial oversight, while others require more deference to the agency’s decision.216 Many existing statutes provide the standard of judicial
review that applies to agency rulemaking or adjudications. One example is the judicial review provision of the Consumer Product Safety Act, which
states “The . . . safety rule shall not be affirmed unless the Commission’s findings . . . are supported by substantial evidence on the record taken as a
whole . . . .”217 Another review statute subjecting agency rulemaking to judicial review under the arbitrary and capricious standard is 5 U.S.C. § 7703,
which regulates the Merit Systems Protection Board.218 The statute reads: In any case filed in the United States Court of Appeals for the Federal
Circuit, the court shall review the record and hold unlawful and set aside any agency action, findings, or conclusions found to be— (1) arbitrary,
capricious, an abuse of discretion, or otherwise not in accordance with law . . . .219 The language under subection (1) is identical to that of the APA,
which also calls for arbitrary and capricious review.220 The APA states: “The reviewing court shall . . . hold unlawful and set aside agency action,
findings, and conclusions found to be . . . arbitrary, capricious, an abuse of discretion or otherwise not in accordance with law . . . .”221 As these statutes
demonstrate, courts are accustomed to this kind of language and this type of judicial review. Because
the problems with the
Guidelines identified in Part IV warrant heightened review, 222 Congress should amend the
SRA and create a special review statute to that affect. An example of the review statute
would be as follows: 28 U.S.C. § 999. Judicial Review (a) Any person adversely affected by a rule or order
promulgated by the Commission, may file a petition with the Court of Appeals within the district
that such party resides, or with the Court of Appeals within the district that the sentence was
imposed. (b) The reviewing court shall hold unlawful and set aside any action by the
Commission found to be— (1) arbitrary, capricious, an abuse of discretion, or not otherwise in
accordance with law. (c) This section is not intended to modify or supersede any other provision
under this Act, including § 994(x).223 A. The Proposed Standard Would Enable Courts to Meaningfully Review the Commission’s
Rationale Creating the above special review provision would alleviate problems caused
by arbitrary Guidelines. First, it would require reviewing courts to determine if the
Commission engaged in reasoned decision-making in promulgating the Guidelines. The SRA conveniently
states the purposes of the Commission and the Guidelines, and the Commission would be forced
to consider these purposes in its decision-making. Furthermore, this provision would force the
Commission to state its reasons behind certain Guidelines , bringing a long-awaited and
much-needed level of transparency to this enigmatic judicial branch agency . In theory,
this record-keeping requirement will promote cautious and well-reasoned decisions by the
Commission. Under the proposed amendment, the reviewing court would first look to see if the
Commission considered the relevant factors when creating the Sentencing Guidelines. The relevant
factors to be considered were mandated by Congress in the SRA in two main places.224 First, Congress gave the purposes to the Commission in 28
U.S.C. § 991(b): The purposes of the United States Sentencing Commission are to— (1) establish sentencing policies and practices for the Federal
criminal justice system that— (A) assure the meeting of the purposes of sentencing as set forth in section 3553(a)(2) of title 18, United States Code; (B)
provide certainty and fairness in meeting the purposes of sentencing, avoiding unwarranted sentencing disparities among defendants with similar
records who have been found guilty of similar criminal conduct while maintaining sufficient flexibility to permit individualized sentences when
warranted by mitigating or aggravating factors not taken into account in the establishment of general sentencing practices; and (C) reflect, to the extent
practicable, advancement in knowledge of human behavior as it relates to the criminal justice process; and (2) develop means of measuring the degree
to which the sentencing, penal, and correctional practices are effective in meeting the purposes of sentencing as set forth in section 3553(a)(2) of title
18, United States Code.225 The second source of relevant factors the Commission must consider, as mentioned twice in the language of § 991(b), are
the § 3553(a)(2) factors. These factors are the following: The court, in determining the particular sentence to be imposed, shall consider— the need for
the sentence imposed— (A) to reflect the seriousness of the offense, to promote respect for the law, and to provide just punishment for the offense; (B)
to afford adequate deterrence to criminal conduct; (C) to protect the public from further crimes of the defendant; and (D) to provide the defendant with
needed educational or vocational training, medical care, or other correctional treatment in the most effective manner. . . .226 Under the proposed
statute the reviewing court would ask whether the Commission adequately considered the purposes of § 991(b) and the § 3553(a)(2) factors.227 To
meet the former, a Guideline must meet the following purposes: avoid unwarranted disparities in the Guidelines while maintaining flexibility in
sentencing when necessary. To
meet the latter, the Guideline must reflect the seriousness of the
offense, promote deterrence, protect the public from future crimes, and promote
rehabilitation.
CP – Rewrite Guidelines
Federal sentencing guidelines preclude any reform, BUT
rewriting the guidelines themselves spills over to broader
change.
Michael Tonry, 2-12-2019, [Michael Tonry is professor of law and public policy, University
of Minnesota. "Fifty Years Of American Sentencing Reform: Nine Lessons", Crime And Justice
https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/abs/10.1086/701798?journalCode=cj //DMcD]
3. FEDERAL SENTENCING.-- Federal sentencing guidelines have been remarkably
unsuccessful; they should be rebuilt from the ground up. The federal guidelines were the most
controversial and disliked sentencing reform initiative in American history . Within 2 years of
their taking effect, more than 200 federal district judges invalidated the guidelines and declared
all or part of the Sentencing Reform Act of 1984 unconstitutional. In Mistretta v. United States, 488 U.S. 361 (1989),
however, the US Supreme Court rejected the lower courts' holdings. Little changed until the Court in U.S. v. Booker, 543 U.S. 220
(2005), reversed course, declaring major parts of the 1984 act unconstitutional after all and converting the guidelines from
"mandatory," as the federal sentencing commission called them, to "advisory." The federal guidelines' failure is ironic;
prospects for success could not have been better. Senate Bill 2699, introduced by Senator Edward
Kennedy in 1975, was the first legislative proposal for a sentencing commission anywhere. The bill, developed by Yale Law School
When the
faculty in collaboration with Judge Frankel, quickly obtained bipartisan support; the Senate approved it several times.
1984 act took effect, the future looked rosy . The commission had a staff of 70 (state commissions had five to 10), a
correspondingly large budget, and the good fortune that Kay A. Knapp, director of the successful Minnesota commission, signed on
as executive director. After that, it was all downhill. The
initial commission was poorly led and faction-ridden .
Knapp was forced out within months. The
commission made no effort to learn from the experiences of
existing commissions in Minnesota, Pennsylvania, and Washington . Most importantly, although Frankel
viewed administrative agencies' partial insulation from political influence as a key element--and benefit--of his proposal, the
commission and key commissioners openly pursued personal and partisan political ends. The " tough-on-crime" politics of
the 1980s displaced the original goals of reduced disparities and greater fairness . [*10] Detailed
discussions of how and why the guidelines proved so unsuccessful and unpopular are available elsewhere. They were too
severe, too complex, and too detailed. Most sitting federal judges hated them. The
guidelines nearly eliminated the use of probation as a federal sanction. Half of federal offenders received
probation before the guidelines took effect; 7 percent did in 2017. The commission's unprecedented
"relevant conduct" policy required sentencing judges to take account of alleged crimes that were not prosecuted or that resulted in
acquittals. Federal judges in recent years have imposed sentences that fall within applicable guideline ranges about half of the time.
Paul Hofer (2019), in the most exhaustive analysis to date of federal sentencing data, concludes that sentencing
disparities,
including racial disparities, are probably greater now than before the guidelines took
effect. The existence of numerous mandatory sentencing laws in the federal system is part of the
explanation, but the US Sentencing Commission deserves most of the blame. The federal
guidelines are not salvageable. Fundamental problems result from decisions made when they
were initially developed. The US Sentencing Commission's guidelines are much too detailed . They
divide offense severity into 43 categories; most states use eight to 12. They attempt to
micromanage judges' decisions concerning the pertinence of offenders' personal characteristics and backgrounds; state
guidelines simply identify aggravating and mitigating characteristics judges may take into account, among others, when they believe
it appropriate. They authorize probationary sentences for only 5-7 percent of federal offenders ; states
authorize use of probation for any offender not subject to a mandatory minimum sentence law. Finally, they direct judges to increase
sentences on the basis of "relevant conduct" whether or not it was proven at trial or admitted, including conduct occurring in crimes
of which the offender was acquitted. No state guidelines contain a comparable provision. Those
provisions are
straitjackets. Just, fair, and accountable sentencing will remain an impossible dream in federal
courts until they are repudiated. [*11] If and when that happens, state experience can guide a new commission in
creating a new system of federal guidelines.