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Too Many Ordinary People Caught in Web of Injustice

Originally published at Boston Herald by Jordan Richardson | 6/8/15

Overcriminalization, the overuse or misuse of criminal law to address societal problems, is a troubling phenomenon that touches every segment of society. It manifests itself in a variety of ways, including overly broad definitions of criminal acts, excessively harsh sentencing and criminal sanctions for simple mistakes or accidents.

However, overcriminalization has a more tangible aspect beyond legislation and legal theory: For every problematic law or criminal procedure, there is a victim with a story to tell.

Those victims include three fishermen in Florida sentenced to more than six years in prison for importing lobsters packed in plastic rather than paper, a North Carolina man jailed for 45 days for selling hot dogs without a license, and an autistic teenager from Pennsylvania threatened with wiretapping charges after he recorded being bullied by classmates.

American citizens all too often find themselves trapped by the very system that they assumed existed for their protection, and prosecuted for crimes that most people would not even recognize as criminal offenses.

Reporting stories of people who have been needlessly and callously caught up in the criminal justice system has a two-fold benefit: First, it informs the public of the serious nature of overcriminalization and how it could equally harm them too. Second, it exposes public officials and law-enforcement officers who engage in misbehavior or exercise terrible judgment.

Consider the following examples:

• Lazaro Estrada was arrested and charged with obstruction of justice for simply filming a Miami police officer who arrested his friend. Despite the fact that citizens should be presumptively free under the First Amendment to film officers in public places, Estrada faced significant punishment for turning on his camera. After his video of the incident went viral, the charges against Estrada were dropped.

•    Arnold Abbott, a 90-year-old charity worker from Fort Lauderdale, Fla., was threatened with arrest and a $500 fine for feeding homeless people in the local city park. A city ordinance required Abbott to comply with strict food handling and facility regulations — a mandate that would have made it nearly impossible to feed hungry people. Publicity from major news outlets soon prompted city officials to allow Abbott to continue his charitable works.

• Shaneen Allen, a single mother from Pennsylvania, was arrested after being pulled over for a traffic violation and the officer was informed that she had a handgun in her car. Allen, who had legally registered the gun in her home state, mistakenly assumed that it was legal for her to travel with it for protection across state lines. Her mistake could have sent her to prison for three years. After immense media pressure, the prosecutor allowed Allen to enter a diversion program, and New Jersey Gov. Chris Christie subsequently pardoned her.

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Elonis v. United States and the Mens Rea Debate

Originally published at National Review by Jonathan Keim | June 3, 2015

On Monday the Supreme Court did something interesting in Elonis v. United States, a case about the interstate threat statute and its application to Facebook status messages. Although widely viewed as a case with great significance for the First Amendment’s application to social networking, the Court sidestepped the constitutional question and dove straight for the overcriminalization issue: default mens rea. A 7-2 majority lined up behind the Chief Justice to strike down the conviction, with Justices Thomas and Alito writing separately.

Mens rea – the criminal law’s requirement of a guilty mind – is usually the sine qua non of a typical criminal offense. In most cases, the mens rea is the difference between a tort and a crime: Negligently hitting someone with a baseball bat might subject you to money damages from the victim, but you won’t go to jail unless you fight the sheriff who comes to attach your car (or home) to pay the judgment. If you hit the victim knowingly or intentionally, however, you’ll probably go to jail. Of course, the lines between criminal and non-criminal acts are somewhat blurrier in practice. Some statutes create “strict liability” crimes, which require no proof whatsoever of a guilty mind, while others penalize various types of accidents. 

Elonis was originally briefed with two questions in mind (one statutory, one constitutional) about what mens rea attaches to the interstate threat. The two questions presented focused on whether a subjective intent to threaten is necessary for a conviction under 18 U.S.C. § 875(c). The defendant argued that the meaning of the word “threat” implies an intentional act and that in any event, Virginia v. Black (2003) requires the charged communication to be a “true threat.” The government responded that the statute doesn’t state a mental state with respect to the nature of the threat, so it should be construed as imposing a much lower standard than several similar statutes.

The majority (with the Chief writing) tossed the conviction, rejecting the government’s statutory argument that the mens rea for the crime was strict liability or negligence (citations omitted):

We have repeatedly held that “mere omission from a criminal enactment of any mention of criminal intent” should not be read “as dispensing with it.” This rule of construction reflects the basic principle that “wrongdoing must be conscious to be criminal.” As Justice Jackson explained, this principle is “as universal and persistent in mature systems of law as belief in freedom of the human will and a consequent ability and duty of the normal individual to choose between good and evil.” The “central thought” is that a defendant must be “blameworthy in mind” before he can be found guilty, a concept courts have expressed over time through various terms such as mens rea, scienter, malice aforethought, guilty knowledge, and the like. Although there are exceptions, the “general rule” is that a guilty mind is “a necessary element in the indictment and proof of every crime.” We therefore generally “interpret[] criminal statutes to include broadly applicable scienter requirements, even where the statute by its terms does not contain them.”

This is not to say that a defendant must know that his conduct is illegal before he may be found guilty. The familiar maxim “ignorance of the law is no excuse” typically holds true. Instead, our cases have explained that a defendant generally must “know the facts that make his conduct fit the definition of the offense,” even if he does not know that those facts give rise to a crime.

But

Elonis’s conviction, however, was premised solely on how his posts would be understood by a reasonable person. Such a “reasonable person” standard is a familiar feature of civil liability in tort law, but is inconsistent with “the conventional requirement for criminal conduct— awareness of some wrongdoing.” Having liability turn on whether a “reasonable person” regards the communication as a threat—regardless of what the defendant thinks— “reduces culpability on the all-important element of the crime to negligence,” and we “have long been reluctant to infer that a negligence standard was intended in criminal statutes.” Under these principles, “what [Elonis] thinks” does matter.

Though the majority rejected negligence as the mens rea, the Court stopped short of specifying what mens rea was the right one. Justice Alito objected to this omission, concurring with the majority’s reasoning but dissenting from its refusal to establish “recklessness” as the appropriate standard. On this point, Justice Alito agreed with Justice Thomas’s dissent that “recklessness” was both a constitutionally permissible mens rea under the First Amendment for this case and the proper minimum mens rea under the case law. Justice Thomas likewise criticized the majority’s failure to articulate the applicable standard, but directed most of his vigorous dissent at the majority’s articulation of the appropriate common law background standards.

Elonis is more important for what it leaves open than what it resolves. The Court didn’t supply an answer to what minimum mens rea would apply generally to federal criminal statutes under the background principles for interpretation of criminal statutes. This leaves the door wide open for Congress to pick up where the Court left off and pass its own default mens rea statute. In that respect, Elonis leaves primary responsibility for scaling back the mens rea problem right where it should be: Congress.

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Heritage Report: Shining a Light on Over-Criminalization

Originally published at The Heritage Foundation by Jordan Richardson | June 1, 2015

Overcriminalization—the overuse or misuse of the criminal law to address societal problems—is a troubling phenomenon that touches every segment of society.[1] It manifests itself in a variety of ways, including overly broad definitions of criminal acts, excessively harsh sentencing, and criminal sanctions for simple mistakes or accidents under a theory of strict liability.[2]

However, overcriminalization has a more tangible aspect beyond legislation and legal theory: For every problematic law or criminal procedure, there is a victim with a story to tell. Those victims include three fishermen in Florida who were sentenced to over six years in prison for importing lobsters packed in plastic rather than paper,[3] a North Carolina man who was jailed for 45 days for selling hot dogs without a license,[4] and an autistic teenager from Pennsylvania who was threatened with wiretapping charges after he recorded being bullied in school by his classmates.[5] American citizens all too often find themselves trapped by the very system that they assumed existed for their protection and prosecuted for crimes that most people would not even recognize as criminal offenses.

The Heritage Foundation has made it a priority to report instances of overcriminalization and provide solutions to the root causes of this issue. One of the more effective ways to explain the importance of reform is by telling the stories of people who have been hurt by abuse of the criminal law.[6] It is common to discuss changes in the system in terms of legislation or arcane legal concepts, but seeing the human side of overcriminalization is much more powerful.

Public Pressure

Reporting stories of people who have been needlessly and callously caught up in the criminal justice system has a two-fold benefit: First, it informs the public of the serious nature of overcriminalization and how it could equally harm them too; second, it exposes public officials and law enforcement officers who engage in misbehavior or exercise terrible judgment. The latter effect, especially, could help both to alter outcomes for individuals who are victimized by overcriminalization and to provide a catalyst for change.

During the past year, The Heritage Foundation has recounted the stories of people who were victims of overcriminalization. In several of these cases, positive outcomes ensued, in all likelihood as a result of the public ridicule that such injustices received. Although there is no quantifiable method to determine whether media pressure was the deciding factor that influenced public officials to reverse course after pursuing charges or fines against these individuals, it is wise to heed former Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis’s wisdom: “Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman.”[7]

The following examples are illustrative:

  • Lazaro Estrada was arrested and charged with obstruction of justice for simply filming a Miami police officer who arrested his friend.[8] Despite the fact that citizens should be presumptively free under the First Amendment to film officers in public places,[9] Estrada faced significant punishment for turning on his camera. After his video of the incident went viral, the charges against Estrada were dropped.
  • Shaneen Allen, a single mother from Pennsylvania, was arrested after being pulled over for a traffic violation and the officer was informed that she had a handgun in her car.[10] Allen legally registered the gun in her home state and mistakenly assumed that it was legal for her to travel with it for protection across state lines. Her mistake could have sent her to prison for three years. After immense media pressure, the prosecutor allowed Allen to enter a diversion program, and New Jersey Governor Chris Christie subsequently pardoned her.
  • Arnold Abbott, a 90-year-old charity worker from Fort Lauderdale, Florida, was threatened with arrest and a $500 fine for feeding homeless people in the local city park.[11] A city ordinance required Abbott to comply with strict food handling and facility regulations—a mandate that would have made it nearly impossible to feed hungry people. Publicity from major news outlets soon prompted city officials to allow Abbott to continue his charitable works.

Examples of government overreach extend beyond criminal charges. In several instances, local governments have attempted to enforce inapplicable or obscure regulations that essentially prohibit ordinary behavior.

  • Spencer Collins, a nine-year-old boy from Leawood, Kansas, built a miniature library box in his front yard as a Mother’s Day gift. Local authorities levied a $500 fine against Spencer’s family and threatened to tear down the library because the box supposedly violated an ordinance against freestanding structures. Public outrage forced the city to reconsider, and the ordinance was amended to allow citizens to build little libraries.[12]
  • Tiffany Miranda, a 10-year-old girl who suffers from a serious and incurable disease called Lennox-Gastaut syndrome, received her very own playground from the Make-A-Wish Foundation. The city government of Santa Fe Springs, California, ordered Tiffany’s parents to tear down the playground because, in their estimation, it was a “public nuisance.” After facing an intense media backlash for trying to crush the dreams of a little girl with a serious illness, city officials quickly backtracked and allowed the playground to stay.[13]

Stories like these illustrate both the human cost of overcriminalization and the absurd but all too real instances of governmental overreach in general. In all of the cases mentioned here, media and news reports informed the public about how law enforcement officials were unfairly or wrongly targeting their fellow citizens. As a result, public pressure was the catalyst to convince the authorities to reverse course. Awareness precedes reform.

Reform Is Needed

The sobering reality of overcriminalization is that there are many more stories of victims that have not received media attention. Although we should applaud the decision of public officials who eventually recognized that they had overstepped their authority and reversed course, there is still much more to be done. Shaneen Allen, the single mother who faced three years in prison, now has her life back after receiving a pardon from a governor, but not everyone is so fortunate as to have a high-level official intervene in his or her case. Many voices go unheard.

If overcriminalization is left unchecked, it will continue to be a problem. Our Founders warned us long ago about the dangers of an expansive legal system that arbitrarily creates and enforces numerous criminal laws. James Madison, writing in the Federalist Papers, stated:

It will be of little avail to the people, that the laws are made by men of their own choice, if the laws be so voluminous that they cannot be read, or so incoherent that they cannot be understood; if they be repealed or revised before they are promulgated, or undergo such incessant changes that no man, who knows what the law is to-day, can guess what it will be to-morrow. Law is defined to be a rule of action; but how can that be a rule, which is little known, and less fixed?[14]

When ordinary people are turned into criminals for engaging in morally blameless behavior, the legitimacy of the justice system is undermined. Serious reform is essential.

Conclusion

Criminal justice reform is about more than policy debates in Congress or legal procedure; it is about how the lives and fortunes of ordinary Americans are threatened by abuse of the law. The criminal justice reform movement should focus on telling the stories of those who are affected by an overly zealous government and the excessive power of the state.

Only by identifying the problem and highlighting why it matters will any meaningful change take place. Overcriminalization is not an easy problem to solve, but it is one that demands our attention.

—Jordan Richardson is a former Visiting Legal Fellow in the Edwin Meese III Center for Legal and Judicial Studies at The Heritage Foundation.

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When District Attorneys Attack

Originally published at National Review by Kevin D. Williamson | 5/31/15

(Mirko Vitali, Visivasnc/Dreamstime; Illustration: NRO)

The GOP should turn its attention to prosecutorial misconduct.

As the old Vulcan proverb has it, “Only Nixon can go to China.” And only Nixon’s political heirs can fix the persistent — and terrifying — problems that continue to plague this country’s law-enforcement agencies and prosecutors’ offices.

Exhibit A: Orange County, California.

The sunny Southern California county with a population surpassing that of nearly half the states has a Republican district attorney, Tony Rackauckas, and a big problem on its hands: Its entire prosecutorial apparatus — all 250 lawyers in the district attorney’s office — have been disqualified from participation in a high-profile capital-murder case following revelations that the office colluded with the Orange County sheriff’s department to systematically suppress potentially exculpatory evidence in at least three dozen cases, committing what legal scholars have characterized as perjury and obstruction of justice in the process.

One of the questions involves a secret database of jail records related to confessions obtained via informants. Sheriff’s officers denied the database even existed, and their deception was abetted by prosecutors, leading an exasperated judge to issue an order noting that they “have either intentionally lied or willfully withheld material evidence from this court during the course of their various testimonies. For this court’s current purposes, one is as bad as the other.” The judge unsubtly recommends prosecution.

RELATED: Injustice System: Today’s America Is a Landscape of Legal Abuse

The database tracking inmates’ movements around the jail and the reason for those movements is significant, because Orange County law enforcement and prosecutors were in the habit of placing targeted suspects in proximity to criminal informants, who were rewarded with reduced sentences, favors, or money — payments in some instances ran into the six figures — for helping put together cases against jailed suspects. This practice is illegal. It is one thing if a suspect in custody speaks about his crimes and an informant comes forward to report that confession; it is another thing to operate a program under which the interrogation of suspects is effectively delegated to incarcerated felons who are secretly on the county’s payroll. The lack of present legal counsel is only the beginning of what is wrong with that practice.

To operate such a program is ipso facto a violation of the law and of ethical standards for jailers and prosecutors both. To lie about it is a serious crime. It may turn out to be a lucky thing after all that these defective prosecutions will probably open up a great many jail cells: Orange County is going to have to put these sheriff’s officers and prosecutors somewhere.

RELATED: Baltimore’s Problem, and America’s: The Criminal-Justice System Is a Disaster

The despair-inducing details of the case can be located in the pages of OC Weekly, but the climax so far is this:

Superior Court Judge Thomas M. Goethals made an unprecedented, historic move after announcing he’d lost confidence in Orange County homicide and gang prosecutors to obey simple legal rules of conduct. Goethals, a onetime prosecutor and campaign contributor to the DA, recused Rackauckas and his entire staff from People v. Scott Dekraai, the capital case stemming from the 2011 Seal Beach salon massacre.

What this means is that the prosecutors’ office is, in effect, an example of that other O.C.: organized crime.

Prosecutorial misconduct is a plague upon these United States.

A secret cache of electronic records containing information that is potentially embarrassing to political figures, and the criminal handling of that database, is of course an all-too-familiar story to those of us who have been following the saga of Hillary Rodham Clinton’s e-mails, which were originally in digital form, were converted into paper printouts, and are now in the process of being redigitized before they are handed over to investigators, a process that only the naïve would believe exists for any purpose other than tampering with the evidence. The Orange County authorities had been using their database, called TRED, for a quarter of a century. Prosecutors were aware of it, and the sheriff’s officers who testified before Judge Goethals had made thousands of entries in it. Yet they could not quite recall its existence when honor, duty, and the law obliged them to do so.

This is not a one-off. Prosecutorial misconduct is a plague upon these United States, from the vodka-pickled Democratic political jihadists in Austin to California, where judges complain of an “epidemic” of prosecutorial misconduct abetted by Democratic attorney general Kamala Harris, who is seeking to replace retiring Barbara Boxer in the Senate.

RELATED: America Desperately Needs to Fix It’s Overcriminalization Problem

The Democrats have long been acculturated to the climate of corruption that attends government agencies that are largely free of ordinary accountability, where a carefully cultivated lack of transparency shields operatives from scrutiny and normal oversight. Republicans can rouse themselves to action, if only barely, when this involves the federal Internal Revenue Service or Environmental Protection Agency. But deference to police agencies and prosecutors is so habitual among the members of the law-and-order party that they instinctively look for excuses when presented with obvious examples of police misconduct, and twiddle their thumbs in the 99 percent of cases of prosecutorial misconduct that do not involve a Republican elected official.

Only the Republican party has the credibility and the political capital to take on the difficult task of reining in rogue police agencies and abusive prosecutors.

But only the Republican party has the credibility and the political capital to take on the difficult and sure-to-be-thankless task of reining in rogue police agencies and abusive prosecutors — and they may as well take a look at our scandalous prisons while they are at it. Some Republican leaders, notably Texas’s former governor Rick Perry, have been active and energetic partisans of reform, largely under the banner of the excellent Right on Crime campaign. But this is not really a job for presidents or even governors: This is a job for mayors, city councilmen, district attorneys, sheriffs, and police chiefs. In the bigger cities, Republicans are thin indeed in those ranks. But that is not the case in Orange County. In Orange County, Republicans have no excuse.

Democrats may have ruined Detroit, Baltimore, Cleveland, etc., and they are well on their way toward doing the same thing to Los Angeles, Philadelphia, New York, etc. If Republicans want to show that they can do better, then fixing the mess in Orange County, a community more populous than Chicago, would be an excellent place to start.

— Kevin D. Williamson is roving correspondent at National Review.

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Too Many Laws Means Too Many Criminals

Originally published at National Review by Timothy Head & Matt Kibbe| 5/21/15

Yates v. US

When three missing fish can land someone in jail on felony charges, reform is needed.

‘There is no one in the United States over the age of 18 who cannot be indicted for some federal crime,” retired Louisiana State University law professor John Baker told the Wall Street Journal in July 2011. “That is not an exaggeration.”

That may sound unbelievable, but this is a lesson some Americans have, sadly, learned the hard way, through no real fault of their own.

John Yates, for example, built his career as a commercial fisherman. In August 2007, Yates and his crew were fishing in the Gulf of Mexico off the Florida coast when a state conservation officer, who was also a deputized federal agent, boarded his vessel to inspect their catch of red grouper.

After inspecting some 3,000 fish, the official identified 72 red grouper that did not meet the minimum 20-inch conservation standard and issued a citation from the state. He ordered Yates to bring the undersized catch when he returned to port.

When Yates returned to port the next day, armed federal agents stood by while inspectors reexamined his catch, finding only 69 fish under the minimum standard. Federal officials accused Yates of destroying evidence — the missing three red grouper — related to a federal investigation.

“Nearly three years later, the federal government charged me with the destruction of evidence — yes, fish – to impede a federal investigation. I was subsequently arrested at my home. I have been blacklisted by boat owners, who fear federal investigations similar to mine,” Yates wrote last year. “I am now unable to make a living doing what I love to do.”

In August 2011, Yates was convicted and sentenced to a 30-day jail term and three years of supervised release under a provision in the 2002 Sarbanes–Oxley law, passed in the wake of the Enron scandal. The law’s “anti-shredding” provision, meant to apply to the destruction of documents or files related to a federal financial-fraud investigation, has nothing to do with fish.

Thankfully, the U.S. Supreme Court agreed. In February, it threw out the conviction. And although she strangely voted to uphold the conviction, Justice Elena Kagan surmised that Yates’s unusual case “is unfortunately, not an outlier, but an emblem of a deeper pathology in the federal criminal code.”

That “deeper pathology” is overcriminalization.

In Ayn Rand’s magnum opus, Atlas Shrugged, Doctor Floyd Ferris, one of the book’s main antagonists, told Hank Reardon, a proud producer who had earned the ire of crony special interests and government officials, that “there’s no way to rule innocent men.”

“The only power government has is the power to crack down on criminals. Well, when there aren’t enough criminals, one makes them,” said Ferris. “One declares so many things to be a crime that it becomes impossible for men to live without breaking laws.”

Fiction has become reality.

The United States now has some 300,000 federal regulations, and this long spool of burdensome and complex red tape grows every year. What’s more, there are about 4,500 federal criminal statutes on the books carrying fines or prison terms for offenders.

There are so many regulations and criminal statutes on the books that a civil-liberties expert and lawyer, Harvey Silverglate, thinks that the average American commits three felonies a day, and they often are not even aware they are breaking the law. That is, not until a federal agency begins an investigation and they are indicted.

House Judiciary Committee chairman Bob Goodlatte (R., Va.) is taking a hard look at federal overcriminalization. At a recent criminal-justice event supported by the Coalition for Public Safety, Representative Goodlatte, in a video message, told attendees, “There is a growing consensus across the political spectrum that our criminal-justice system is in need of reform.”

“The issue of overcriminalization is an issue of liberty,” Goodlatte said. “We must work together to improve our criminal-justice system so that it works fairly and efficiently and reduces crime across the United States.”

Goodlatte, in the previous Congress, put together a bipartisan overcriminalization task force, led by Crime, Terrorism, Homeland Security, and Investigations Subcommittee chairman Jim Sensenbrenner (R., Wis.) and ranking member Bobby Scott (D., Va.), to examine federal criminal laws and make recommendations for reform. The task force held ten hearings.

A civil-liberties expert and lawyer thinks the average American commits three felonies a day, often without knowing that he is breaking the law.

Although similar efforts have failed in the past, this is a cause around which both parties should come together. Our prisons are overcrowded, with far too many nonviolent offenders who have little or no criminal history taking up space that should be reserved for more serious and violent criminals.

Tackling overcriminalization could help reduce skyrocketing prison costs, restrain the out-of-control regulatory state, and end families’ being needlessly ripped apart by unnecessary, out-of-date, or excessive federal statutes.

Most importantly, Goodlatte is right: This is an issue of liberty. Not only would rolling back this brand of big government send a positive message to the country; addressing overcriminalization in a meaningful and substantive way is simply the right thing to do.

— Timothy Head is the executive director of the Faith & Freedom Coalition. Matt Kibbe is the president of FreedomWorks and author of the New York Times best-seller Don’t Hurt People and Don’t Take Their Stuff. Both are members of The Coalition for Public Safety.

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The Culture of Criminalization

Originally published at Cato Institute by Gene Healy

On April 22, a House Judiciary subcommittee approved a bill that would send parents to jail for at least three years if they learn of drug activity near their children and fail to report it to authorities within 24 hours.

A brief pause for reflection might lead one to wonder whether this is a good idea, especially in jurisdictions such as Baltimore, where gangland killings of government witnesses are all too common. But when it comes to the criminal law, Congress rarely pauses for reflection any more.

Earlier in April, the bill’s author, Rep. James Sensenbrenner (R.-WI), floated what might be called the “Jail Janet Jackson” initiative. Instead of enforcing the Federal Communications Commission’s indecency regulations with fines on broadcasters, according to Sensenbrenner, those who violate the regulations should be subject to arrest and imprisonment: “I’d prefer using the criminal process rather than the regulatory process,” Sensenbrenner said, “Aim the cannon specifically at the people committing the offenses.”

There are serious problems with Sensenbrenner’s proposal: the FCC’s indecency standards are notoriously vague and of dubious constitutionality. How could a policy that says “misspeak and go to jail” not end up chilling constitutionally protected speech?

But there’s an even more fundamental question to ask: is this an appropriate use of the “cannon” of the criminal sanction? Do we really want to lock people up for bad taste?

Sensenbrenner’s jail‐​centric approach reflects a broader social phenomenon, and a troubling one. The criminal sanction is supposed to be a last resort, reserved for the most serious offenses to civil peace. But more and more, it’s becoming government’s first line of attack: a way for lawmakers to show that they’re serious about whatever the perceived social problem of the month is. We’re all familiar with the cranky uncle who brays at the TV: “lock ‘em all up, I say!” That attitude makes for entertaining talk radio. But what’s frightening is that it’s increasingly becoming a basis for public policy.

Examples of reflexive criminalization abound. The American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act, a bill to prevent the transportation of horses for human consumption, currently has 80 cosponsors in Congress (nothing against horses, but is this a huge problem?) If signed into law, it will join such illustrious federal crimes as the interstate transport of water hyacinths, trafficking in unlicensed dentures, and misappropriating the likeness of “Woodsy Owl” and his associated slogan “give a hoot, don’t pollute” (punishable by up to six months in prison).

Because Congress criminalizes unreflectively, the federal criminal code has become vast and incomprehensible. A research team led by Professor John Baker of Louisiana State Law School recently estimated that there are now over 4,000 separate federal criminal offenses. That number, inexact as it is, vastly understates the breadth of the criminal law, since the federal criminal code in turn incorporates by reference tens of thousands of regulatory violations never voted on by Congress.

And this burgeoning Culture of Criminalization has effects all the way down the law enforcement ladder, as local police increasingly use handcuffs and jail to deal with situations that clearly don’t warrant it. Last September, at a Washington D.C. bus stop, a Metro Transit officer forced a pregnant woman to the ground and handcuffed her for talking too loudly on her cell phone. In December, a 10‐​year‐​old Philadelphia schoolgirl was handcuffed, put in the paddy wagon, and taken to jail for having a pair of scissors in her bookbag.

One of our most destructive overcriminalization binges occurred during the “Just Say No” Era when Congress embraced mandatory minimum sentencing as a means to deal with the use of illicit drugs. Reasonable people can disagree about whether and how much of a threat drug abuse represents. But what’s clear is that making prison the solution to drug abuse has had staggering social costs. There are now eight times as many women in prison as there were in 1980, and the drug war is a key factor in driving the incarceration rate. In 2001 the average federal drug trafficking sentence was 75 months, more than double the average manslaughter sentence. In addition to sending parents to jail for failure to testify against drug dealers, Sensenbrenner’s bill would extend and enhance mandatory minimum drug penalties, adding to the social costs of the drug war.

Sensenbrenner is right to compare the criminal law to a “cannon”: the criminal sanction is heavy artillery. It ought to be reserved for those behaviors that warrant society’s strongest condemnation and the loss of liberty that such behavior merits. Wielding the cannon indiscriminately causes tremendous collateral damage.

Decrying overcriminalization does not mean being soft on crime. Just the opposite: being tough on crime requires making intelligent distinctions between conduct that truly threatens the public and conduct better handled by fines or civil law, to say nothing of conduct that’s really none of the government’s business. Those who can’t make those distinctions, far from being tough on crime, actually weaken the moral force of the criminal law. That’s a crime in itself.

GENE HEALY

Gene Healy is senior editor at the Cato Institute, and editor of the new book Go Directly to Jail: the Criminalization of Almost Everything.

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Baltimore’s Problem, and America’s

Originally published at National Review by Conrad Black | May 6, 2015

The criminal-justice system is a disaster.

It would be ungracious of me not to acknowledge with gratitude the column on Sunday of my old friend Fareed Zakaria, citing several sources, including me, as he recounts the almost unmitigated moral bankruptcy of the U.S. criminal-justice system. As the Freddie Gray riots and indictments in Baltimore continue the fortnightly spectacles of fatal police excess that, with the eager amplification of the media, are creating the world-wide and not entirely false impression that American law enforcement is conducting a sea-to-sea shooting gallery, it is timely to review these problems, which are now decried from right (e.g., George Will) to left (e.g., Katrina vanden Heuvel). They extend from undisciplined police, through a rogue prosecutocracy infested with Torquemadas who can smoke anything past the constitutional heirloom of the grand jury and convict almost anybody by intimidating witnesses to inculpate the targets (with the choice between threats of prosecution themselves and promises of immunity for perjury), to mainly elected state judges dispensing draconian sentences and pandering to the law-and-order lynch mobs, to overstuffed prisons staffed by under-supervised unskilled labor who kill an inordinate number of prisoners in unconstitutionally bestial conditions. This is American justice today, unsuspected by Norman Rockwell, triumphantly championed by morons like Nancy Grace; it is the still largely unnoticed tragedy of many millions of ruined American lives.  TOP ARTICLES1/5READ MORESanders Invokes Obama’s Praise forCuban Education in Defending His Castro Comments

RELATED: Injustice System: Today’s America Is a Landscape of Legal Abuses

In the modern United States, the only reforms are those demanded by adequately large numbers of voters or adequately rich interests. There are 48 million convicted felons in the U.S., and they have tens of millions of relatives and friends, and while most of them are relatively unconnected and demoralized by stigmatization, or just relieved that their legal problems were long ago and they have partly or wholly surmounted them, those suffering the sting of injustice aggravated by gelatinously negative public complacency about the injustice of the system are very numerous and righteously upset. They cannot be far from where the previous waves of mass reform jumped off. Prior to smashing the barricades that restrained them, “uppity n*****s” and “mouthy women” and “angry gays” were starting to chin themselves on the need for militancy, no matter how personally risky, or at the least embarrassing, it might be. Of course, a large number of convicted people were actually guilty of something, unlike, simply by virtue of what they were, African Americans, women, and gays, but many innocent people have been convicted, and most have been over-sentenced, and all who have served their sentences are entitled to be heard about the systematic mistreatment that is so widespread in the U.S. justice system.

This is American justice today, unsuspected by Norman Rockwell, triumphantly championed by morons like Nancy Grace; it is the still largely unnoticed tragedy of many millions of ruined American lives.

Fareed Zakaria outlined the obvious proportions of the problem in his column: The United States has 5 percent of the world’s population, 25 percent of its incarcerated people, and 50 percent of its lawyers (who account for about 10 percent of the country’s GDP). Prosecutors win 99.5 percent of their cases, about 97 percent without a trial, and the country has six to twelve times as many incarcerated people per capita as comparably prosperous large democracies: Australia, Canada, France, Germany, Japan, and the United Kingdom. No sane, conscientious American citizen can be comfortable with these figures and their implications. In a word, the United States, the people that ordained for itself the Constitution that contains the Bill of Rights, has a somewhat tenuous claim to be a country subject to the rule of law, at least in criminal matters. And crimes include thousands of offenses, including, as George Will pointed out in a column in April, picking up arrowheads on federal lands or driving a snowmobile accidentally onto land protected by the Wilderness Act. Given the innumerable statutes and regulations with criminal sanctions, the mens rea element of guilt has faded and the old principle that ignorance of the law is not an excuse would not now be equitable in many cases.

RELATED: America Desperately Needs to Fix Its Overcriminalization Problem

For obvious reasons, there is a tendency to view the recent interracial police-inflicted fatalities as another manifestation of longstanding African-American grievances. But three times as many white Americans are killed by police and prison employees as non-whites, which confirms that minorities suffer proportionately more abuse from law enforcement, but African Americans and other minorities would short-change themselves, and be unjust to others, if they did not recognize this as an almost equal-opportunity problem, in which the constabulary, justice, and custodial systems disserve everyone, and no one is safe from such abuse. Nor will it quite do to sound the same old note of white insensitivity in high places in the Freddie Gray tragedy in Baltimore. That is a city where the majority in the city proper is African-American, where African Americans are in charge as mayor and chief of police, and majorities of city officials, elected and appointed, are African American. Whatever is judged to have happened in this case, it was not whites killing a non-white. No doubt, that is a factor in some incidents, but it would minimize the proportions of this immense and extremely dangerous problem to see it in these terms only, or even principally.

The whole U.S. criminal-justice system is now an immense problem and it gnaws, every day, at the soul of America.

Americans are promised their day in court, but, because of the public-policy adoption of a goal of unheard-of levels of imprisonment (advocated as passionately by such liberals as Robert Kennedy, Nelson Rockefeller, and Bill Clinton as by such conservatives as Richard Nixon and Ronald Reagan), the system could not possibly try a serious number of these cases, as opposed to just terrorizing defendants into pleading guilty and taking a dive, without completely clogging the system. There has been very little reform legislation in the federal government in recent decades in any field that is based on the traditional motive of people like Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson, simply to make things work better (like TR’s Pure Food and Drug Act). Reform is demanded by groups too large or rich to be ignored. Victims of the excesses of the justice system certainly are such a group, but to avoid provoking a schismatic reaction in the country, they must cross all racial and ethnic lines and make it clear that they are not mollycoddlers of crime, and are not calling for indulgence of violent crime, but seek restoration of the Bill of Rights guarantees of due process, the grand jury as a serious filtration process, no seizure of property without just compensation, access to counsel, an impartial jury, prompt justice, and reasonable bail. The plea-bargain system will have to be drastically reformed and cooperating witnesses must not be immune to apparently well-founded perjury claims, and criminal cases should not be heard by elected judges. While this cannot be legislated, the media should rub the sleeping knots of 50 years from their eyes and go back to serving the country — by deploying a free press in service of free institutions, and not competing to lead the lynch mob every time there is a publicized offense.

RELATED: Annals of Injustice: The Libby Case and Other Horrors

Most trial judges should not be ex-prosecutors. Nor should prosecutors have an absolute immunity. The Thompson case, in which a falsely accused man was left in death row for 14 years to the full knowledge of prosecutors, who were ultimately excused from heavy sanctions by a majority on the Supreme Court, was an especially extreme case of this. So was the case against Senator Ted Stevens (R., Alaska), who was electorally defeated on a prosecution the Justice Department knew to be false, and the only serious penalty paid was by a prosecutor who committed suicide. The egregious Patrick Fitzgerald should not get a free pass for securing a conviction of former vice president Richard Cheney’s chief of staff Lewis “Scooter” Libby by misshaping the evidence of Judith Miller.

Sentences should be reasonable and some sort of commission should regularly sift through all the laws and regulations with heavy sanctions, cull and consolidate them, and attach to them penalties that are appropriate and are not just bludgeons used by prosecutors to extort false confessions of guilt and Stalinesque allocutions of self-condemnation. The entire process has become a national degradation that cheapens the value of American citizenship and disgraces the country and its fine traditions, and threatens everyone in the United States, or reachable by its authorities, even though in other countries.

#related#Not the least of the excesses of this careening juggernaut grinding people almost indiscriminately to powder has been its extraterritorial application, in which the State Department frequently gets behind the Justice Department and tries to muscle foreign jurisdictions. A striking example of this was the recent effort, clearly inspired by foreign-policy considerations, to extradite Ukrainian billionaire Dmytro V. Firtash from Austria for alleged bribery in India in a titanium deal that never occurred, but in fact because of his political activities in Ukraine. The indictment coincided with the visit to Ukraine by assistant secretary of state Victoria Nuland, to try to persuade Firtash’s friend, former Ukrainian president Viktor Yanukovych, not to abandon a close political and trade agreement with the European Union. The State and Justice departments denied any such motive, but the Austrian judge found otherwise, and ordered the release of Mr. Firtash, who had posted $130 million. The judge ruled the attempted extradition and trial a spurious abuse of justice and of the reputation of the United States as a civilized and law-abiding country. No one is claiming Firtash has an uncontroversial record in the Ukrainian natural-gas business, but there is no obvious U.S. claim against him.

The whole U.S. criminal-justice system is now an immense problem and it gnaws, every day, at the soul of America. Where has the Supreme Court, the ultimate and always sanctimonious guardian of the Constitution, been while the rights of the people have been gutted? Generations of its justices do not have the excuse of having to face voters whipped up by tele-demagogues and gimcrack politicians. They don’t have any excuse.

— Conrad Black is the author of Franklin Delano Roosevelt: Champion of Freedom and Richard M. Nixon: A Life in Full. He can be reached at [email protected]

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Politicized Prosecution Run Amok in Wisconsin

Originally published at National Review by Rich Lowry | 4/21/15


(Mikhail Olykainen/Dreamstime)

The knock on the door in the dead of night is the stuff of Darkness at Noon, and of the state of Wisconsin.

To the question of whether armed police can storm your house and take away your personal effects and tell you to shut up about it, based simply on your political advocacy, Wisconsin answered for years, “Why, yes, they can — now please, shut up about it.”

The so-called John Doe investigations into Governor Scott Walker and conservative groups in Wisconsin have been an ongoing travesty that — now that Walker is entering the presidential stage — should be considered a national disgrace. Walker’s opponents weaponized campaign-finance law, literally.

RELATED: Wisconsin’s Shame: ‘I Thought It Was a Home Invasion’

Our own David French has talked to families targeted in the John Doe raids for the first time, and their stories are harrowing. Shouting officers at the front door in pre-dawn raids, at least once with a battering ram. Armed police rifling through and carting off their belongings, down to and including a daughter’s computer. And warnings to stay silent.

The targets were told not to tell their lawyers, or their friends, or their neighbors. When armed cops storm the house next door, people often wonder why, but the targets were forbidden from discussing what happened. As French points out, this wasn’t the right to remain silent and avoid self-incrimination, but an order to remain silent and not to make any professions of innocence. They had a keener sense of due process in Salem, Massachusetts.

RELATED: Time to Tame Prosecutors Gone Wild

The investigators were, among other things, fishing for campaign-finance violations, on dubious grounds. So, for exercising their First Amendment rights, some targets were denied their First Amendment rights. This is the Bill of Rights, via Kafka and Inspector Javert.

The investigations have been such a long-running farce that there is John Doe I and II. As Scott Walker’s first campaign for governor got underway in 2010, the Milwaukee district attorney, John Chisholm, opened the initial John Doe investigation under a proviso of the law that allows officials to keep their targets secret and to compel them to hush up.

RELATED: American Desperately Needs to Fix It’s Overcriminalization Problem

A partisan Democrat whose wife was a shop steward for a teachers union, Chisholm investigated everything possible related to Walker for a couple of years, without really laying a glove on him. It was in the run-up to Walker’s re-election campaign that, with the help of a compliant judge, John Doe entered its next phase of harassment of conservative groups.

Investigators swept up personal e-mails, and issued wide-ranging subpoenas, including information on donors. The Wisconsin Club for Growth describes in court filings how its activities were hindered, as people began refusing meetings, donors got nervous, and one of its key officials, Eric O’Keefe, wasn’t allowed to explain the nature of the investigation. O’Keefe, who has been courageous in resisting the investigations, has said, “The process is the punishment.”

#related#And the offense was backing the wrong side in a highly contentious political dispute. It’s one thing for kids with bongo drums to register their opposition to Scott Walker; it’s another for armed agents of the state, operating with the force of law, to be used as essentially a political cudgel.

The John Doe investigation has bogged down under the weight of its own ludicrous unfairness, and various court challenges. The Wisconsin Supreme Court could soon rule to halt the investigations altogether, and the United States Supreme Court is set to decide whether it will consider a federal lawsuit brought by Eric O’Keefe and the Wisconsin Club for Growth.

Wisconsin legislators are considering scaling back the law enabling John Doe investigations to prevent future abuses. The John Doe process might make sense for unraveling a dangerous criminal syndicate; it isn’t appropriate in a tenuous campaign-finance investigation, let alone as a tool of intimidation against people on the wrong side of a political argument.

The politicized knock on the door in the night isn’t right for Wisconsin, or anywhere else in the United States of America.

— Rich Lowry is the editor of National Review. He can be reached via e-mail: [email protected]. © 2015 King Features Syndicate

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Atlanta’s Cheating Teachers Are Not Mobsters

Originally published at USA Today by Van Jones and Mark Holden | April 20, 2015

Last Tuesday, eight Atlanta Public Schools employees were sentenced to prison in one of the largest school cheating scandals in American history. But you wouldn’t know they were cheaters based on how they were treated in court. The educators were convicted of racketeering — a felony typically reserved for mob bosses, drug kingpins and terrorists.

The Atlanta teachers are now the latest victims of overcriminalization. They were charged under a law that had nothing to do with their actions. For years, the educators quietly changed students’ answers on the Georgia Criterion-Referenced Competency Test, dramatically boosting the scores. They did so because the tests are tied to the state’s funding for schools affecting their pay and employment.

The educators should be held responsible for their actions, but the punishment should also fit the crime. While similar scandals have occurred in 39 different states and Washington, D.C., the offenders have rarely been prosecuted as criminals. Yet in an unprecedented move, the prosecutors in Atlanta charged the educators under Georgia’s “Racketeering Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act” — a law passed in 1980 specifically to combat the scourge of organized crime. RICO laws, which exist at the federal level and in 33 states, empower prosecutors to go after the leaders of organized crime who order but do not personally commit crimes such as robbery, money laundering and murder. Individuals convicted under such laws can face up to 20 years in prison.

As nonviolent first-time offenders, the Atlanta educators would not likely have received any jail time but for prosecutors’ unprecedented use of RICO. Three were sentenced to seven years in prison, two received two-year sentences and three will sit in jail for a year. Two others accepted plea deals with lighter sentences. Most must also pay a fine and serve probation and community service.

These punishments do not fit the crimes. Yet this is not a rarity — similar stories play out all too frequently around the country.

Overcriminalization is rampant in America’s legal system. A Florida fisherman disposed of undersized fish yet was convicted of violating a law passed to prevent destruction of business records. An Arkansas company ran children’s clothing consignment sales staffed by parents and volunteers and was charged with violating federal employment policies. A jilted wife in Pennsylvania doused over-the-counter chemicals on the doorknobs of her husband’s lover’s house and was prosecuted for violating an international treaty meant to prevent chemical warfare. The list goes on.

These and countless other examples are the result of America’s unwieldy and unjust criminal code. Today, there are estimated to be about 4,500 federal crimes scattered throughout the U.S. Code’s 54 sections and 27,000 pages. Add state laws plus the federal regulations that include criminal penalties and this number grows into the hundreds of thousands.

The criminal code is so broad and so confusing that Americans sometimes can’t help but run afoul of it. Once they do, their lives can quickly and permanently be ruined. A staggering number of criminal laws and regulations lack “intent” and “knowledge” requirements, which protect unwitting Americans who have no reasonable way of knowing they committed a crime. The list of nonviolent offenses is so broad that everyday activity can often be criminal. And many federal and state crimes are accompanied by mandatory minimum sentences that force minor lawbreakers into unjust prison terms.

The lawmakers and regulators who created this system were well-intentioned, but we can see the harmful results all around us.

America, with over two million prisoners, now accounts for a quarter of the world’s prison population. No other industrialized nation comes close.

This mass imprisonment worsens America’s poverty crisis. According to a Villanova University study, “had mass incarceration not occurred, poverty would have decreased by more than 20%” in recent years. This makes sense, given that a stint in prison leads to nine fewer weeks of annual work and 40% lower annual earnings for former inmates, according to the Pew Charitable Trusts. Overcriminalization hurts the Americans who can least afford it.

These problems will get steadily worse until policymakers reform the broken criminal justice system. State and federal elected officials can start by cutting the criminal laws that go too far — especially for nonviolent offenses — and clarifying the ones that are overly broad and subject to frequent abuse. When new laws are established, lawmakers should ensure that they enhance public safety and satisfy the requirements laid out in the Bill of Rights. And they should only expand the criminal code when there is broad consensus.

The need for action is urgent. Eight Atlanta educators are on their way to prison because they were prosecuted and convicted as if they were mob bosses, which their actions, while reprehensible, did not warrant. How many Americans have to be similarly mistreated — and how many people’s lives have to be ruined — before policymakers act?

Van Jones, founder of Dream Corps/Rebuild The Dream, is a former special advisor to President Barack Obama. Mark Holden is general counsel of Koch Industries which supports the Coalition for Public Safety.

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“Overcriminalization Week” at SCOTUS

Originally published at National Review by Jonathan Keim | 4/19/15

Samuel J. Johnson v. US, McFadden v. US, Horne v. Department of Agriculture

I hereby declare this to be “Overcriminalization Week” at the Supreme Court. Every one of the cases scheduled for argument has some relationship to several issues in the overcriminalization debate I pointed out a couple weeks ago.

Monday’s argument in Johnson v. United States concerns whether possession of a forbidden firearm (a short-barreled shotgun) counts as a “violent felony” under the Armed Career Criminal Act, which, if part of a defendant’s criminal history, triggers a mandatory minimum. This will be a re-argument of a case argued last November. After the case was submitted, the Court ordered additional briefing on whether the residual clause (“otherwise involves conduct that presents a serious potential risk of physical injury to another”) is unconstitutionally vague.

On Tuesday, the Court will hear argument in McFadden v. United States, which is about what mens rea is required to convict a defendant for distribution of a controlled substance analogue. Some controlled substances were initially identified by a schedule in the text of the relevant statute, which is updated through notice-and-comment rulemaking. The list of analogues is not published, however, so each case goes to a jury to decide whether the alleged analogue is, in fact, an analogue.

Wednesday’s case considers “takings” in Horne v. Department of Agriculture. It’s a bit removed from typical overcriminalization cases, but the issues are clearly relevant to discussions about asset forfeiture and property rights. The U.S. Department of Agriculture currently imposes regulations requiring raisin handlers to skim a portion of the handled raisins and give them to the government. The three questions presented are (1) whether the “categorical duty” to pay just compensation at the time of the physical possession applies only to real property and not personal property; (2) whether the government can get out of the duty to pay by reserving part of the property for the owner; and (3) whether conditioning the ability to engage in commerce on relinquishment of specific property is a per se taking. Arguing for the petitioner will be legal scholar and former appellate judge Michael W. McConnell.

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America Desperately Needs to Fix Its Overcriminalization Problem

Originally published at the National Review by George Will | April 9, 2015

The hyper-proliferation of criminal statutes has put too much power in the hands of prosecutors.

What began as a trickle has become a stream that could become a cleansing torrent. Criticisms of the overcriminalization of American life might catalyze an appreciation of the toll the administrative state is taking on the criminal-justice system, and liberty generally.

In 2007, professor Tim Wu of Columbia Law School recounted a game played by some prosecutors. One would name a famous person — “say, Mother Teresa or John Lennon” — and other prosecutors would try to imagine “a plausible crime for which to indict him or her,” usually a felony plucked from “the incredibly broad yet obscure crimes that populate the U.S. Code like a kind of jurisprudential minefield.” Did the person make “false pretenses on the high seas”? Is he guilty of “injuring a mailbag”?  TOP ARTICLES2/5READ MOREWarren Rips Bloomberg for AllegedlyTelling Pregnant Employee to ‘Kill’ It

In 2009, Harvey Silverglate’s book Three Felonies a Day demonstrated how almost any American could be unwittingly guilty of various crimes between breakfast and bedtime. Silverglate, a defense lawyer and civil libertarian, demonstrated the dangers posed by the intersection of prosecutorial ingenuity with the expansion of the regulatory state.

In 2013, Glenn Harlan Reynolds, University of Tennessee law professor and creator of Instapundit, published in The Columbia Law Review “Ham Sandwich Nation: Due Process When Everything is a Crime.” Given the axiom that a competent prosecutor can persuade a grand jury to indict a ham sandwich, and given the proliferation of criminal statutes and regulations backed by criminal penalties, what becomes of the mens rea principle that people deserve criminal punishment only if they engage in conduct that is inherently wrong or that they know to be illegal?

Now comes “Rethinking Presumed Knowledge of the Law in the Regulatory Age” (Tennessee Law Review) by Michael Cottone, a federal judicial clerk. Cottone warns that as the mens rea requirement withers when the quantity and complexity of laws increase, the doctrine of ignorantia legis neminem excusat — ignorance of the law does not excuse — becomes problematic. The regulatory state is rendering unrealistic the presumption that a responsible citizen should be presumed to have knowledge of the law.

There are an estimated 4,500 federal criminal statutes — and innumerable regulations backed by criminal penalties that include incarceration. Even if none of these were arcane, which many are, their sheer number would mean that Americans would not have clear notice of what behavior is proscribed or prescribed. The presumption of knowledge of the law is refuted by the mere fact that estimates of the number of federal statutes vary by hundreds. If you are sent to prison for excavating arrowheads on federal land without a permit, your cellmate might have accidentally driven his snowmobile onto land protected by the Wilderness Act.

Regulatory crimes, Cottone observes, often are not patently discordant with our culture as are murder, rape, and robbery. Rather than implicating fundamental moral values, many regulatory offenses derive their moral significance, such as it is, from their relation to the promotion of some governmental goal.

The presumption of knowledge of the law is, Cottone argues, useful as an incentive for citizens to become informed of their legal duties. Complete elimination of the presumption would be a perverse incentive to remain in an ignorance that might immunize a person from culpability. But “there can be no moral obligation to do something impossible, such as know every criminal law,” let alone all the even more numerous — perhaps tens of thousands — regulations with criminal sanctions. The morality of law, Cottone argues, requires laws to be, among other things, publicized, understandable and not subject to constant changes. Otherwise everyone would have to be a talented lawyer, “a result hardly feasible or even desirable.”

Overcriminalization, says professor Reynolds, deepens the dangers of “a dynamic in which those charged with crimes have a lot at risk, while those doing the charging have very little ‘skin in the game.’” With a vast menu of crimes from which to choose, prosecutors can “overcharge” a target, presenting him or her with the choice between capitulation-through-plea-bargain or a trial with a potentially severe sentence.

Given the principle — which itself should be reconsidered — of prosecutorial immunity, we have a criminal-justice system with too many opportunities for generating defendants, too few inhibitions on prosecutors, and ongoing corrosion of the rule and morality of law. Congress, the ultimate cause of all this, has work to undo.

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The Overcriminalization Debate: A Primer

Originally published at National Review by Jonathan Keim, Skilling v. US, Yates v. US| April 6, 2015

Second to military force, criminal law is the government’s most dangerous weapon. Recognizing its potential for misuse, the Western legal tradition has developed a wide variety of legal barriers to ensure that the punishments and stigmas of “criminal” are applied only to the people that deserve them. In this post, I hope to provide some historical background about some of the contemporary debates about overcriminalization and answer some of the most common questions.

What is “overcriminalization,” anyway?

The term “overcriminalization” usually refers to a constellation of problems with a particular criminal law, ranging from overbreadth to procedural fairness. Critiques based on concerns about overcriminalization will typically argue that the criminal law needs to be refined, narrowed, cabined, or limited in various ways that don’t detract from the central responsibility of criminal law to punish intentional blameworthy conduct.

Concerns about overcriminalization are not, however, the same as the view that criminal punishment is illegitimate or that criminals should get off with light sentences. Such an opinion would find itself at odds with most theories of criminal punishment and basic common sense. Obviously, dangerous criminals should be locked up as punishment, deterrent, and for the protection of the public. Most overcriminalization critiques, rather, are rooted in longstanding principles of the Western legal tradition, many of which go all the way back to Magna Carta.

What kind of problems and principles are you talking about?

Overcriminalization problems typically fall into five categories.

First, the criminal law can punish unintentional conduct. Without a guilty mind, or mens rea, a wrongful act has traditionally been treated as a civil tort rather than a crime. In recent years, however, Congress has increasingly defined crimes without a mens rea, forcing courts to either make one up or assume that Congress intended to punish unintentional acts with jail time.

Second, there are notice problems. The most typical is that a statute is too vague for anyone to know what it prohibits. You might think of this as the reciprocal of the commonplace principle that “ignorance of the law is no excuse” : If the judicial system is not going to accept “ignorance of law” as a defense, criminal laws ought to be sufficiently clear that diligent people can stay out of jail. This calls to mind Suetonius’ account of the Roman emperor Caligula who posted laws in very small letters and in a very narrow place to make the laws as difficult as possible to read. American law, it must be said, does not permit such shenanigans.

The Supreme Court addressed a notice problem in the 2010 case of Skilling v. United States, which raised a void-for-vagueness challenge to the federal “honest-services fraud” statute, which criminalizes schemes to defraud someone of “the intangible right of honest services.” Instead of invalidating the statute outright, though, the Supreme Court narrowed it by construction, declaring that it only covers deprivations of honest services through bribes or kickbacks supplied by a third party who had not been deceived. Only after this drastic narrowing did the Court conclude that the statute was not vague.

Third, and related to the second problem, there is overbreadth: a law may punish conduct that is innocent, socially beneficial, or harmless. This can happen in several ways. A law may be poorly drafted. A law may address a compelling problem at one moment in history, but still be on the books long after the original problem has subsided. The result is that prosecutors gain an enormous amount of discretion as they decide which cases to overlook and which to pursue.

Although prosecutorial discretion is typically used wisely, its sheer scope invites selective prosecutions based on factors like political alignment, popularity, and other non-legal factors. As FDR’s Attorney General (later Justice) Robert H. Jackson put it in a famous speech:

If the prosecutor is obliged to choose his cases, it follows that he can choose his defendants. Therein is the most dangerous power of the prosecutor: that he will pick people that he thinks he should get, rather than pick cases that need to be prosecuted. . . . It is in this realm—in which the prosecutor picks some person whom he dislikes or desires to embarrass, or selects some group of unpopular persons and then looks for an offense, that the greatest danger of abuse of prosecuting power lies. It is here that law enforcement becomes personal, and the real crime becomes that of being unpopular with the predominant or governing group, being attached to the wrong political views, or being personally obnoxious to or in the way of the prosecutor himself.

Sometimes legislators deliberately pass overbroad laws in an effort to look decisive. This problem arose recently in United States v. Yates (2015), which concerned an obstruction-of-justice law passed to address white-collar crime in the wake of the Enron scandal. There, though, the statute was not used to prosecute an executive who ordered destruction of financial documents or incriminating emails, but a commercial fisherman who tossed out a few undersized fish.

Fourth, there are due process questions. Although the phrase “due process” has been sorely abused by the courts in a substantive sense, procedural due process remains an important limitation on criminal punishment: Property and persons shouldn’t be seized without prior justification, nor may someone be punished without a lawful criminal conviction. These issues come up frequently as part of the discussion of civil asset forfeiture, which I hope to cover in more detail some other time.

Finally, and looming over all these other problems, the sheer scope of federal criminal law raises concerns about whether the Constitution’s allocation of powers between the states and the federal government has been upended. Expansion of the Commerce Clause and other modern trends in post-New Deal jurisprudence have enabled Congress to criminalize virtually anything with only the slightest of nods to interstate commerce, creating something that approximates a general police power. Add to that a ballooning number of federal regulations that regulate the details of modern life (many of which are hooked into criminal offenses) and you have a recipe for nearly unlimited federal power.

There are several more common overcriminalization critiques, such as concerns about excessive punishments and prison reform, but those involve normative discussions that are beyond the scope of this post.

Does all this really go back to Magna Carta? Really?

Not all, but you might be surprised at how much of the Magna Carta is relevant to today’s overcriminalization debate. If you recall, in 1215 a group of angry barons forced King John of England to write down the traditional rights of Englishmen and publish them with the royal seal, thus preventing the notoriously power- and revenue- hungry king from denying them. These rights, later published in a document that we know as Magna Carta, have been considered a definitive proclamation of the rights of Englishmen.

In fact, the drafters of the American Constitution relied closely on Magna Carta for inspiration as they sought to articulate the Bill of Rights. For instance, the Eighth Amendment’s prohibition on “excessive fines” is prefigured by Magna Carta’s article 14:

A freeman is not to be amerced [fined] for a small offence save in accordance with the manner of the offence, and for a major offence according to its magnitude, saving his sufficiency (salvo contenemento suo), and a merchant likewise, saving his merchandise, and any villain other than one of our own is to be amerced in the same way, saving his necessity (salvo waynagio) should he fall into our mercy, and none of the aforesaid amercements [fines] is to be imposed save by the oath of honest and law-worthy men of the neighbourhood. Earls and barons are not to be amerced save by their peers and only in accordance with the manner of their offence.

Some rights declared in Magna Carta raise important questions about the civil asset forfeiture debate (articles 22 and 29): 

We [the King] shall not hold the lands of those convicted of felony save for a year and a day, whereafter such land is to be restored to the lords of the fees.

* * *

No freeman is to be taken or imprisoned or disseised [dispossessed] of his free tenement or of his liberties or free customs, or outlawed or exiled or in any way ruined, nor will we go against such a man or send against him save by lawful judgement of his peers or by the law of the land. To no-one will we sell or deny of delay right or justice.

If you’re looking for a quick and accessible overview of Magna Carta’s influence on American law, I recommend the Library of Congress’s page about the famous document.

How can we fix these problems?

As the constitutionally-appointed deliberative body for lawmaking, Congress should take the lead on reform. Congress could define a default mens rea for all federal statutes, provide more concrete rules for interpreting unclear laws, and scale back criminalization of regulatory offenses. There are some indications that Congress is taking its responsibility seriously, such as the House’s creation in January of a new procedural rule ensuring that new crimes are reviewed by the Judiciary Committee. Hopefully this will improve the quality of new criminal offenses under federal law. Somewhat more ambitiously, Congress could undertake a comprehensive review of existing federal crimes and fix the problems more comprehensively.

Reform is primarily Congress’s responsibility, but the executive and the judicial branches have some tools, too. The Department of Justice, which initiates all federal prosecutions, could adopt prosecution guidelines that adopt a more cautious posture toward the problems identified above. New guidelines might, for instance, recommend that prosecutors avoid bringing cases where no mens rea must be proven, or that prosecutors not pursue prison time for crimes involving mere regulatory violations. Under Attorney General Eric Holder, the Department of Justice has already taken much more drastic action in the area of drug enforcement, so by comparison, any measures of the kind I’ve suggested would be quite modest.

The judicial branch, for its part, can faithfully apply the rule of lenity and void-for-vagueness doctrines, among other longstanding legal principles that constrain overcriminalization. If excessive judicial deference to Congress is the danger on one side, though, the danger on the other side is that judges begin substituting their idiosyncratic policy judgment s for Congress’s and judicially nullify fully constitutional laws.

The overcriminalization debate is quite complex, so I’ve necessarily skipped over numerous interesting topics in favor of broad strokes. Over the coming weeks and months, I will return to discuss some of these issues in more detail. Stay tuned!

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Goodlatte on Overcriminalization

Originally published at Cato Institute by Tim Lynch | February 13, 2015

The new chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, Bob Goodlatte (R-Va), discusses the problem of overcriminalization with Pat Robertson.

For related Cato work, go herehere, and here.  I discuss the prospects for criminal justice reform in 2015 in this Washington Examiner article.

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Heritage Report: The Perils of Overcriminalization

Originally published at The Heritage Foundation by Paul Larkin Jr. and Michael Mukasey | February 12, 2015

What has happened to federal criminal law in recent decades? Several former senior Department of Justice officials have expressed their concern with the path we have taken,[1] along with the American Bar Association,[2] numerous members of the academy,[3] journalists,[4] and other organizations like The Heritage Foundation.[5] We agree with their considered opinion that overcriminalization is a serious problem and needs to be remedied before it further worsens the plight of the people tripped up by it and further injures the public interest.

To begin with, the sheer number of federal laws that impose criminal penalties has grown to an unmanageable point. The Department of Justice and American Bar Association have been unable to tally the correct number.[6]

Proliferation of Federal Crimes

The Congressional Research Service reportedly has been unable to come up with a definitive total of federal criminal laws; the nearest they could come was to say they number in the thousands.[7] They are by no means confined to the federal criminal code—Title 18, itself a weighty volume—but are scattered among the laws contained in the 51 titles or subject-matter volumes of the federal code and the hundreds of thousands of regulations that are supposed to implement those laws.[8] The result is that there are more criminal laws than anyone could know.

Indeed, federal crimes are not confined to offenses against the domestic laws of the United States. Under the Lacey Act, it is a crime to import into the United States animals or plants gathered in violation of the laws of the countries from whence they came.[9]

In a sense, you can understand such a law from the standpoint of a conservationist who wishes to guard against the extinction of species of animals or destruction of the world’s forests. But one result of that seemingly well-meaning legislative effort was a raid by federal agents on the premises of the Gibson Guitar Company for importing wood for guitar frets that was allegedly exported in violation of the laws of India and Madagascar (the latter, by the way, are not even written in English).[10] It is utterly unreasonable to require anyone to know the laws of every other nation in order to avoid criminal liability.

There have also been questionable prosecutions under domestic federal criminal laws. Consider the case of Lawrence Lewis. Mr. Lewis grew up in difficult circumstances but escaped the fate of two brothers, who died in prison. A blue-collar employee who worked his way up to the position of head engineer at a military retirement home, Lewis was charged with felonious pollution of a navigable waterway, a charge that summons the image of dumping toxic chemicals into a river.[11]

That image, however, has nothing to do with the facts. Mr. Lewis was simply using a facially reasonable procedure—one that he had been instructed to use and had used uneventfully for years—to clean up occasional toilet overflows in the hospice area of the home (caused by adult diapers clogging the pipes) by spraying water from a hose to direct the waste into a sewer that led to a small creek that he believed went to the District of Columbia’s publicly owned treatment works but that, unbeknownst to him, emptied into Rock Creek and ultimately into the Potomac River. The federal government charged him with a felony for making a reasonable mistake.

Even setting aside the fact that what goes on alongside the Potomac in Washington makes the occasional runoff from a toilet at a military retirement home seem hygienic by comparison, how could this happen? The Lewis case is an example of the result of a process that started out with good intentions but has taken us far down the road that the old proverb tells us is paved with good intentions.

Before the 20th century, to the extent that there were federal criminal laws, they concerned acts that everyone knew and understood were morally wrong.[12] Accordingly, the old saw that ignorance of the law is no excuse was one that could be uttered seriously and without evoking a sarcastic snicker.

At the beginning of the 20th century, laws were adopted that had the effect of protecting the purity of food, the safety of workers, and other goals included in the rubric of health and safety.[13] Violations of some of those laws were made criminal, and some permitted conviction without a finding of criminal intent: That is, all that had to be proved was that the defendant had done the act. Courts allowed that but said it was permissible only in the kinds of cases that involved protecting the health and safety of the community. The courts’ rationale for permitting this departure from usual standards was that the stakes—public health and safety—were so high that protecting public welfare was paramount.[14]

Many may well have reasoned that people whose conduct affected health and safety should be bound to pay particular attention and that if they let their intention flag, it was not unreasonable to hold them to a strict standard of something less than criminal intent. In the process, however, the whole notion of consciousness of wrongdoing in the criminal law was obscured, although the penalties of loss of freedom or property, and moral taint, remained.[15]

Achieving Institutional Reform Through Prosecution

In addition to the passage of statutes and regulations, another phenomenon that started in the setting of civil litigation but has since spilled over into the criminal law is the practice of bringing prosecutions to achieve institutional reform rather than seeking legislation that would have that end. Litigators in what are referred to loosely as civil rights or civil liberties issues have long known that they could often achieve their goals more quickly and with greater certainty through litigation than through legislation. One obvious example was a Connecticut statute that banned the sale of contraceptives. The state had not enforced the statute for years,[16] but a plaintiff eventually persuaded the Supreme Court that the law violated a constitutional right to privacy.[17]

That practice has now spread to criminal cases. Take, for example, prosecutions for promoting drugs for uses other than those for which the Food and Drug Administration has approved them, even though the targets of the promotion are not laymen but physicians who exercise independent judgment about whether to prescribe a drug or not. The prescribing of a drug for a purpose other than the one for which it was approved is not an offense at all; indeed, physicians may help to make medical progress while curing their patients if they are able to see new uses for pharmaceuticals. Yet promoting drugs for what is called off-label use is a felony.

Peter Gleason, a Maryland psychiatrist who regularly served poor and underserved constituencies, delivered a series of paid lectures at medical conventions describing success he had had with off-label use of certain drugs, and he was prosecuted for doing so. He did not have the resources to fight, so he pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor and paid a small fine. Nonetheless, the guilty plea ruined his medical practice. The Department of Health and Human Services told Dr. Gleason that his conviction excluded him from all medical programs, and virtually all of his patients were on Medicare or Medicaid.[18]

Another defendant in the same case went to trial and prevailed when the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit held that the First Amendment protects the right to communicate truthful information about the benefits of pharmaceuticals, even off-label benefits.[19] Dr. Gleason, however, did not benefit from that ruling because his desperation over loss of his practice led to his suicide before the Second Circuit decided the case. The Gleason case is proof that good intentions can go haywire.

Nonprosecution and Deferred Prosecution Agreements

Another factor contributing to the proliferation of criminal regulations has been the advent of nonprosecution and deferred prosecution agreements with corporate defendants. The Department of Justice often uses settlements known as nonprosecution or deferred prosecution agreements to resolve criminal cases. It may seem paradoxical that agreements whereby corporations escape actual prosecution themselves contribute to the efflorescence of criminal laws and proceedings, but the process itself has pernicious results.

Consider the corporation investigated for a possible violation of criminal law. For most corporations, particularly those that are publicly traded, otherwise have a public profile, or do business in a highly regulated industry, a conviction can be crippling,[20] but an indictment alone can also have catastrophic results.[21] As a result, many large corporations negotiate deferred prosecution or nonprosecution agreements that permit them to escape the filing of a criminal charge in return for payment of a sizable penalty as a settlement.

The size of these settlements has made both state and federal governments begin to look upon prosecutors’ offices, where the interests of justice are supposed to govern, as profit centers. In some jurisdictions, proceeds of those penalties are used in whole or in part by law enforcement agencies to conduct activities or purchase equipment. In virtually all jurisdictions, including the federal government, the dollar value of penalties extracted from corporations is featured by law enforcement agencies and departments as a principal measure of their effectiveness and worth.

Moreover, as pointed out by Matthew Fishbein in the New York Law Journal, the very size of many of these settlements has raised the expectation of lay observers that individual defendants will be prosecuted as well; those expectations are then disappointed when no such prosecutions follow.[22] The reason is that corporate settlements do not challenge the government’s legal theories or its evidence, but the government is wary of bringing charges against individual defendants because people who stand to lose their freedom often go to trial and prevail when the government’s case is tested in court.

The Department of Justice often goes beyond even the extraction of large settlements and has insisted on changes in corporate governance through the imposition of standards or monitors and even changes in corporate personnel as the price of avoiding criminal charges.[23] The Department of Justice makes that demand even though those remedies would not be available as part of a sentence after conviction.[24] To that extent, the running of corporations is taken out of the hands of shareholders and directors and placed instead in the hands of prosecutors.

Proposals for Reform

If these unhappy results of the proliferation of criminal laws and prosecutions are to change, the changes will not come from courts, which have upheld criminal penalties even without a showing of intent against claims of denial of due process.[25] Obviously, prosecutors have no incentive to make changes in a system that rewards their excesses. The changes will have to come from Congress, which itself has been the source of much of the problem, both in the laws it passes and in the standards it uses to measure prosecutorial success.[26]

There have been many proposals for reform, some with merit.

  • One is for a statute requiring proof of guilty knowledge in any criminal prosecution unless Congress has legislated specifically to the contrary.
  • Another is that administrative agencies be required to list and make generally available in full text all regulations that carry potential criminal penalties, and perhaps that Congress then be required to ratify any such regulation before it can provide the basis for a criminal prosecution.
  • Finally, Congress should adopt a general, across-the-board defense of mistake of law, requiring that a defendant be acquitted if he can prove by a preponderance of evidence that he believed reasonably that what he did was not a crime.[27]

If we are to take pride in the claim that we are a nation governed by law, the criminal law must be sensible and accessible, not simply a trap for the unwary.—Michael B. Mukasey, Partner, Debevoise & Plimpton, served as 81st Attorney General of the United States from 2007–2009 and as a judge on the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York from 1988–2006. Paul J. Larkin, Jr., is Senior Legal Research Fellow in the Edwin Meese III Center for Legal and Judicial Studies at The Heritage Foundation.

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Too Many Laws, Too Many Costs

Originally published by Cato Institute by David Boaz | February 2, 2015

As 2014 drew to a close, the mainstream media were full of laments about the “least productive Congress.” Or more precisely that the just‐​concluded 113th Congress was the secondleast productive Congress ever (since the mid‐​1940s when these tallies began), second only to the 2011-12 112th Congress. But what’s the definition of a “productive Congress”? One that passes laws, of course, lots of laws. Congress passed only 297 laws in the past two years, exceeded in slackerdom only by the 284 laws passed in the previous two years of divided government.

All this productivity analysis assumes that passing laws is good, and passing more laws is better. But as the year ended, we also saw plenty of indications that many, perhaps most, laws — that is, most mandates, bans, regulations, taxes, subsidies, boondoggles, and transfer programs — do more harm than good.

Two articles in the Washington Post on December 6 reminded me that too many laws impede enterprise, charity, innovation, and growth.

Brian Levy is vice president of a company that works to develop and fund energy efficiency and renewableenergy projects. Inspired by the “micro‐​houses” movement, he decided to build his own tiny house in the expensive District of Columbia. For $77,000 he built a house that’s 11 feet wide and 22 feet long, with 210 square feet of living space. It has a galley kitchen and a full‐​size bed, the Post reports — although he can’t sleep overnight there because of a provision in District law.” A 210‐​squarefoot house wouldn’t be my cup of tea. But it’s his house, and it won an Award of Merit from the American Institute of Architects. Why can’t he live there? Because, the Post reports, “the alley next to his lot is not 30 feet wide and does not connect to a public street.” So much for encouraging innovation and the green economy.

Another story the same day reported that the Charles Darwin Research Station on the Galapagos Islands, off the coast of Ecuador, supports itself by operating a small store — “selling mostly clothing with the Charles Darwin Foundation’s logo. But then it added swimsuits, sunglasses, Ecuadoran chocolate and artwork, and the local traders cried foul. A local mayor agreed and shut down the store.” The Research Station is also hampered by a U.S. tax provision that prevents the Galapagos Conservancy from fully funding it. So U.S. tax law and local cronyism may combine to shut down “the oldest and most prominent research organization in the famed archipelago that inspired Darwin’s masterwork, On the Origin of Species.”

Far worse than those unfortunate outcomes was the fate of Eric Garner, who died in a police chokehold after he resisted the attempt to arrest him for selling individual cigarettes — “loosies” — on the street. Why do people sell cigarettes on the street? Because New York has the country’s highest cigarette taxes, and cigarettes smuggled in from low‐​tax states such as Virginia can be sold much more cheaply. Garner had been arrested more than 30 times, most often for selling cigarettes on the street. Yale law professor Stephen Carter wrote in the days after Garner’s death:

It’s not just cigarette tax laws that can lead to the death of those the police seek to arrest. It’s every law. Libertarians argue that we have far too many laws, and the Garner case offers evidence that they’re right. I often tell my students that there will never be a perfect technology of law enforcement, and therefore it is unavoidable that there will be situations where police err on the side of too much violence rather than too little. Better training won’t lead to perfection. But fewer laws would mean fewer opportunities for official violence to get out of hand.

In his book Overcriminalization: The Limits of the Criminal Law, Douglas Husak of Rutgers points out that federal law now includes more than 3,000 crimes, and there may be 300,000 or more federal regulations enforceable through criminal punishment at the discretion of an administrative agency. Which is why criminal defense attorney and Cato adjunct scholar Harvey Silverglate titled his book Three Felonies a Day.

As I wrote at USATo​day​.com, “the more laws we pass, the more chances there are for people to run afoul of the police. Especially when we outlaw peaceful activities, such as smoking marijuana, selling untaxed cigarettes or feeding the homeless.”

If Congress wants to be really productive, it should repeal laws. It could start by reviewing the laws that create 3,000 federal crimes. And federal, state, and local governments should consider whether it’s really a good idea to use armed agents to enforce laws and regulations about selling orchids or raw milk, letting your child play in the park, or writing a school story about killing a dinosaur with a gun.

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Does Mens Rea Reform Provide Cover for Executives?

Originally published at National Review by Lawrence Lewis | 12/1/15

Yes, says Deputy Attorney General Sally Yates, an Obama political appointee in the Department of Justice, who last week took aim at the House Judiciary Committee’s bipartisan criminal justice reform efforts. She was specifically targeting the House mens rea reform bill, which would ensure that to be convicted of a federal crime, a defendant must have a minimal level of criminal intent. Here’s what Yates said, as quoted by NPR:

[The bill] would end up meaning that some criminals would go free as a result, because we simply would not be able to meet that standard of proof. If this proposal were to pass, it would provide cover for top-level executives, which is not something we think would be in the best interest of the American people.

Ms. Yates caricatures mens rea reform as a protection for rich defendants, not for ordinary Americans, but she is wrong. Consider the experience of Lawrence Lewis, for instance, who became a federal criminal because he did something noble: He diverted sewage away from a retirement home’s sickest residents and into an outside storm drain that he thought was connected to the main sewer system. The federal government prosecuted him.

What’s more, crimes without a mens rea – so-called “strict liability crimes” – create the possibility of jail time and criminal felony convictions for accidental conduct. One paper discussing the problem put it particularly well:

Mens rea requirements are more important today because the federal government creates so many new crimes.  Historically, nearly all crimes—because they were common law crimes—concerned acts that were malum in se, or wrong in itself, such as murder, rape, robbery, burglary, and theft. Virtually all new federal crimes and offenses are malum prohibitum, or wrong only because it is prohibited—using a 4-H club logo without authorization is an illustrative example of a malum prohibitum offense.  For malum prohibitum crimes and petty offenses, mens rea requirements are needed in order to protect individuals who have accidentally or unknowingly violated the law.

In other words, basic justice is at stake. Saying that mens rea reform provides cover for defendants is like saying that the Commerce Clause provides cover for drug dealers. If anything, mens rea reform mostly protects the millions of Americans who can’t retain armies of lawyers to advise them about the ever-changing scope of malum prohibitum offenses. Basic mens rea requirements can certainly create more work for the government sometimes, but they also ensure that all criminal defendants, not just rich ones, will be treated fairly.

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Eleventh Circuit Has Opportunity in Clay to Reshape Criminal Intent Prosecutions

Originally published at Washington Legal Foundation by Matthew G. Kaiser | 10/1/15

Wellcare/US v. Clay, US v. Whiteside

On Friday, October 2, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit will hear oral arguments in a closely followed criminal health-care fraud case, U.S. v. Clay. Earlier this year, Washington Legal Foundation published a Legal Backgrounder on the case and its broader ramifications, Clay v. United States: When Executives Receive Jail Time for Ordinary Business Decisions.

In Clay, federal prosecutors converted a contract dispute between a medical services provider, WellCare Health Plans, and the State of Florida Agency for Healthcare Administration (AHCA) into a criminal action. The company had interpreted a complex state law regarding the repayment of Medicaid premiums to the state in a manner that was contrary to AHCA’s interpretation. AHCA’s interpretation was not memorialized in a state regulation or guidance document. Despite this lack of guidance, federal prosecutors indicted WellCare and its executives for health care fraud. The company entered into a deferred-prosecution agreement, leaving the executives to fend for themselves.

The key issue at trial was whether the WellCare executives’ interpretation of Florida law was reasonable. This question goes to the existence of an actus reus—i.e., were the executives’ actions unlawful? In a criminal trial, this issue should be addressed by the presiding judge, not the jury. The judge in Clay, however, instructed the jury to decide whether the defendants’ interpretation was reasonable. He also failed to follow an Eleventh Circuit precedent, U.S. v. Whiteside, which dictates the government must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that a defendant’s statement or submission “is not true under a reasonable interpretation of the law.”

Rules requiring the judge, not the jury, to determine legal questions, and precedents such as Whiteside, are critical in today’s regulatory environment. As attorney Matthew G. Kaiser wrote in the WLF Legal Backgrounder on U.S. v. Clay:

Businesses must regularly interpret complex laws and regulations impacting their communications with federal and state governments. Tax forms, license applications, claims for payment from the government, and a myriad of other forms demand answers to questions that have more than one reasonable answer. Without the protection of judicial precedents like Whiteside, interacting with the federal government becomes a high-stakes game of “Gotcha!”

Those protections are especially important for executives who, under a September 9, 2015 “Principles of Federal Prosecution” memo from Deputy Attorney General Sally Quillian Yates, will increasingly be subject to criminal investigation and prosecution in addition to, or apart from, their companies.

All who share WLF’s concerns with overcriminalization and the federal erosion of business civil liberties should keep a close eye on what the Eleventh Circuit does in Clay.

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Heritage Report: When Fighting Crime Becomes Piling On: The Over-Criminalization of Fraud

Originally published at The Heritage Foundation by Paul J. Larkin, Jr | 1/9/12

Abstract: Are maple syrup felons sufficiently heinous that they should be imprisoned for perhaps as long as 45 years? Some members of the U.S. Senate seem to believe the answer is yes: How else to explain the provisions of the Maple Agriculture Protection and Law Enforcement Act of 2011? This bill, known as the MAPLE Act, would make it a “federal crime…for anyone knowingly and willfully to distribute into interstate commerce a product that is falsely labeled as maple syrup.” While falsely labeling a product should not go unpunished, there are ample criminal laws on the books to deal with the false labeling of maple syrup. The real threat raised by the MAPLE Act is not that of a shadowy syrup syndicate, but a U.S. Congress determined to expand the federal criminal law well beyond its intended limitations—the phenomenon known as overcriminalization.

Three months ago, the Maple Agriculture Protection and Law Enforcement Act of 2011 (MAPLE Act) was introduced in the Senate. The bill would make it a federal crime, punishable by up to five years’ imprisonment, for anyone knowingly and willfully to distribute into interstate commerce a product that is falsely labeled as maple syrup. Although punishing offenders for genuine fraud is a reasonable policy, this bill does not materially advance that policy—at least not at a reasonable cost. Instead, it amounts to piling on.

The MAPLE Act is an innocuous-looking bill. No one would contend that falsely labeling a product should go unpunished in some way or other. For example, a party injured by fraud can seek relief under the law of torts, contracts, and restitution.[1] Because “all civil penalties have some deterrent effect,”[2] private civil actions also can discourage other parties from committing fraud and therefore serve a valuable public interest. Fraud also is punished under the criminal law: Fraud has been a crime at common law in some form or another for more than 300 years;[3] the states outlaw fraud;[4] and numerous statutes make fraud a federal offense.[5]

Such redundant criminalization, however, is the problem. The type of fraud at which the MAPLE Act is aimed already is outlawed by one or more federal criminal laws, to say nothing of state criminal laws and state tort law. Indeed, there are dozensof federal statutes making fraud a crime.

Even considering only the two most widely used federal antifraud laws—the mail fraud and wire fraud acts[6]—there is no reason to believe that any large-scale fraud in the marketing or sale of maple syrup is not already a crime. After all, the parties who commit such fraud need to use the mails or telecommunications facilities to advertise, to ship their goods, to be paid, or for other reasons. One or the other (or both) of those laws should do the trick. To be sure, neither statute may reach someone who sells falsely labeled maple syrup at a roadside stand for cash,[7] but how many such cases are there? In fact, how many cases are there altogether involving the false labeling of maple syrup? And why should state or local law enforcement authorities not be responsible for such (to mix metaphors) small-potatoes cases?

True, there are times in which development of a new technology (e.g., cars, aircraft, or telephones) might require Congress to adopt a new law specifically focused on the use of that invention to commit a crime, but maple syrup is hardly a 21st century creation. It also is true that there are times when a new societal consensus develops regarding conduct that already is a crime yet justifies harsher treatment of offenders (e.g., spousal abuse), but there is no such justification driving the MAPLE Act. The people who make, market, and sell genuine maple syrup, as well as the people who enjoy that product, are in the same position that they always have been and are not more hurt by fraudulent sales today than they were 20 or 30 years ago. As a result, it is quite difficult to see what good this new fraud statute could accomplish other than giving those in the maple syrup industry a federal fraud statute of their own.

Is that a sufficient reason for another dose of punishment? The answer is “No.” There are ample criminal laws on the books to deal with this problem. Adding this new one is just overkill.[8] If this were football, the referee would throw a penalty flag for unnecessary roughness. Keep in mind that the punishments imposed under this statute would enhance the penalties that can be imposed on offenders today: The sentence for this crime can be tacked onto the sentence for mail fraud (up to 20 years’ imprisonment) and wire fraud (up to 20 years’ imprisonment) and whatever else the prosecutor can charge.[9] Are maple syrup felons sufficiently heinous that they should be imprisoned for perhaps as long as 45 years?

Finally, consider the example that this bill would create. As the late Professor William Stuntz has explained, legislators and prosecutors like to double up on the penalties for the same conduct and, to do so, prefer to use existing laws as precedents for future ones.[10] Consider, then, the new raft of statutes that this legislation could spawn: False labeling of Iowa corn, Virginia peanuts, or Coney Island hot dogs soon could become separate federal offenses. Selling phony replicas of the Statue of Liberty, Wrigley Field, the Golden Gate Bridge, the St. Louis Arch, the Louisiana Superdome, and a host of other replicas each could be made its own crime.

Of course, fraudulent conduct should be deterred or punished, even stopped if possible; no one would disagree. But is a sledgehammer needed to accomplish that goal? Put aside the harm done to the offender and his family (an unfortunate, but nonetheless inevitable, example of the collateral damage done by criminal sentencing). What marginal retributive or deterrent benefits do such new criminal laws provide? If the answer is none—and it most likely is—then such laws would be all cost and no benefit.

—Paul J. Larkin, Jr., is Senior Legal Fellow and Manager of the Overcriminalization Initiative in the Center for Legal and Judicial Studies at The Heritage Foundation.

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The Overcriminalization of America

Originally published at Politico by Charles G. Koch & Mark Holden | January 7, 2015

As Americans, we like to believe the rule of law in our country is respected and fairly applied, and that only those who commit crimes of fraud or violence are punished and imprisoned. But the reality is often different. It is surprisingly easy for otherwise law-abiding citizens to run afoul of the overwhelming number of federal and state criminal laws. This proliferation is sometimes referred to as “overcriminalization,” which affects us all but most profoundly harms our disadvantaged citizens. 

Overcriminalization has led to the mass incarceration of those ensnared by our criminal justice system, even though such imprisonment does not always enhance public safety. Indeed, more than half of federal inmates are nonviolent drug offenders. Enforcing so many victimless crimes inevitably leads to conflict between our citizens and law enforcement. As we have seen all too often, it can place our police officers in harm’s way, leading to tragic consequences for all involved.

How did we get in this situation? It began with well-intentioned lawmakers who went overboard trying to solve perceived or actual problems. Congress creates, on average, more than 50 new criminal laws each year. Over  time, this has translated into more than 4,500 federal criminal laws spread across 27,000 pages of the United States federal code. (This number does not include the thousands of criminal penalties in federal regulations.) As a result, the United States is the world’s largest jailer— first in the world for total number imprisoned and first among industrialized nations in the rate of incarceration. The United States represents about 5 percent of the world’s population but houses about 25 percent of the world’s prisoners.

We have paid a heavy price for mass incarceration and could benefit by reversing this trend. It has been estimated that at least 53 percent of those entering prison were living at or below the U.S. poverty line when their sentence began. Incarceration leads to a 40 percent decrease in annual earnings, reduced job tenure and higher unemployment. A Pew Charitable Trust study revealed that two-thirds of former inmates with earnings in the bottom fifth upon release in 1986 remained at or below that level 20 years later. A Villanova University study concluded that “had mass incarceration not occurred, poverty would have decreased by more than 20 percent, or about 2.8 percentage points” and “several million fewer people would have been in poverty in recent years.”

African-Americans, who make up around 13 percent of the U.S. population but account for almost 40 percent of the inmates, are significantly affected by these issues. According to Harvard sociologist Bruce Western: “Prison has become the new poverty trap. It has become a routine event for poor African-American men and their families, creating an enduring disadvantage at the very bottom of American society.” 

Reversing overcriminalization and mass incarceration will improve societal well-being in many respects, most notably by decreasing poverty. Today, approximately 50 million people (about 14 percent of the population) are at or below the U.S. poverty rate. Fixing our criminal system could reduce the overall poverty rate as much as 30 percent, dramatically improving the quality of life throughout society—especially for the disadvantaged.

To bring about such a transformation, we must all set aside partisan politics and collaborate on solutions. That is why we have partnered with the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers for more than 10 years to bring about positive changes in our justice system.  

We support a five-step approach to criminal justice reform:

First, “do no more harm.” Legislators must resist the temptation to criminalize activities that do not fit a common-sense understanding of what is a “crime.” Criminal laws should not impose liability if the accused did not knowingly and willfully intend to commit the bad act. This explosion of criminal laws has led to imposing liability on activities that ordinary citizens would have no reason to believe would be criminal such as converting a wild donkey into a private donkey, bathing in the Arkansas Hot Springs National Park without a doctor’s note, and agreeing to take mail to the post office but not dropping it off. It has led to criminal liability for amateur arrowhead collectors who had no idea their hobby could be a federal crime, as well as criminal charges and  a conviction for a former Indianapolis 500 champion who got lost while snowmobiling during a blizzard and unwittingly ended up on federal land.  

Second, we must address prosecutorial abuses—especially in the discovery and grand jury processes. Even the late Senator Ted Stevens fell victim to prosecutorial abuse in his trial when during the discovery process, federal prosecutors systematically concealed evidence that supported the senator’s defense and testimony. Prosecutors must disclose all evidence favorable to the accused to ensure that every American should be treated equally and fairly under the law, whether the accused is a disadvantaged urban teenager or a wealthy corporate executive.

Third, we must ensure that all those charged with a crime receive their Sixth Amendment right to representation by a lawyer. Inadequate or no legal representation results in devastating consequences for criminal defendants and their families.

Fourth, end unduly harsh sentences and resulting disparities by eliminating mandatory minimum sentences that dictate punishment unrelated to the nature or harm of the underlying crime and facts. We must honor the ideal of the punishment fitting the crime by allowing judges to exercise discretion. 

Finally, after a sentence is served, we should restore all rights to youthful and non-violent offenders, such as those involved in personal drug use violations. If ex-offenders can’t get a job, education or housing, how can we possibly expect them to have a productive life? And why should we be surprised when more than half of the people released from prison are again incarcerated within three years of their release?

Hopefully, every lawmaker and committed citizen will support these proposed reforms.  Overcriminalization leads to mass incarceration, undermines race relations and ultimately keeps more people in poverty. We believe the proposed reforms will improve well-being for all Americans, especially the most disadvantaged.

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A Rare Bipartisan Consensus In Favor of Overcriminalization Reform

Originally published at The National Review by Carrie Campbell Severino | 1/5/15

The Wall Street Journal has published an editorial about a proposed change to the rules of the House of Representatives allowing the House Judiciary Committee to review legislation creating new criminal offenses. According to the Journal:

The 114th Congress convenes next week and Republicans are discussing major reform from taxes to immigration. A smaller but still refreshing change would give more careful review when creating new federal crimes.

On Monday the House Republican conference will debate the rules of the chamber, including a measure to refer proposed new criminal offenses to the House Judiciary Committee. This is supposed to be the routine practice, but Members can sidestep Judiciary by adding to an existing statute.  

This practice contributes to a problem that Justice Scalia noted in his dissent in Sykes v. United States:

We face a Congress that puts forth an ever-increasing volume of laws in general, and of criminal laws in particular. It should be no surprise that as the volume increases, so do the number of imprecise laws. And no surprise that our indulgence of imprecisions that violate the Constitution encourages imprecisions that violate the Constitution. Fuzzy, leave-the-details-to-be-sorted-out-by-the-courts legislation is attractive to the Congressman who wants credit for addressing a national problem but does not have the time (or perhaps the votes) to grapple with the nitty-gritty. In the field of criminal law, at least, it is time to call a halt.

The number of federal criminal laws has ballooned in recent decades, and, as Professor John Baker noted in this Federalist Society white paper, there has been a concurrent erosion in the quality of draftsmanship, the most concerning of which is the failure to include an adequate mental (mens rea) element for crimes. These trends have led to bipartisan calls for reform, forging a coalition of diverse organizations ranging from the Manhattan Institute and the Heritage Foundation on the right, to the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers and the Constitution Project on the left.   

Judiciary Committee chairman Bob Goodlatte and Crime Subcommittee chairman Jim Sensenbrenner deserve a lot of credit for turning their committee’s attention to this problem. They organized a task force to study the problem, a series of hearings, and now they are asking the full House to give them the rules they need to start turning the tide. I hope their colleagues will join them in addressing a serious but under-appreciated public-policy problem.  

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An Era of Overcriminalization

Originally published by Charles Koch Institute | January 1, 2015

Case: Yates v. US

In 2011, fisherman John Yates was convicted of a felony under the Sarbanes-Oxley Act’s “anti-document-shredding” provision, punishable by up to 20 years in prison. What did Yates do to earn a conviction under a law intended to prevent white-collar criminals from defrauding investors and the public? He allegedly threw 3 of 72 fish he had caught back into the Gulf of Mexico. The National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) had found the fish to be under the legal minimum size. Earlier this year, the Supreme Court threw out Yates’ conviction.

Non-profit government accountability watchdog Cause of Action (COA) filed an amicus brief in 2014 supporting Yates. COA’s Executive Director Dan Epstein noted that the Supreme Court’s ruling in favor of Mr. Yates “protected individual rights against arbitrary government prosecutions.”

Though she disagreed with the Court’s decision, Justice Kagan laid plain the state of overcriminalization in her dissent, admitting that this law is “unfortunately not an outlier, but an emblem of deeper pathology in the federal criminal code.”

As the Charles Koch Institute’s senior research fellow Vikrant Reddy describes it, “Overcriminalization refers to the frequent use of criminal law—rather than civil law or administrative sanctions—to punish behavior that historically would not have been viewed as criminal.” A number of scholars, prosecutors, and activists have charted the growth of the federal criminal code, as well as regulations carrying criminal penalties, and have begun shining a light on its dismal impact on individual lives. The United States Code contains nearly 4,500 criminal offenses.

Since 2000, Congress has created an average of 56 new crimes annually. Further, modest estimates count over 300,000 regulations that carry criminal penalties. According to University of Notre Dame Law School professor Stephen Smith, overcriminalization and cases of “abusive prosecution … take place from coast to coast and have ruined the lives and reputations of people who were like other law-abiding citizens except for their misfortune of having attracted the attention of an overzealous federal agent or prosecutor.”

How is it possible that an otherwise law-abiding citizen would find himself facing a federal conviction?

  1. The growing volume of laws and regulations carrying criminal penalties makes it nearly impossible to discern what is and is not a crime.
  2. A crime requires both an actus reus (“guilty act”) and a mens rea (“guilty mind”). But many laws and regulations containing criminal penalties do not include an intent requirement, meaning individuals can be prosecuted for unknowingly breaking the law.
  3. Many modern criminal laws are written in vague and ambiguous language. Combined with the absence in the criminal code of a clear definition of a crime, the criminal implications of an act are often left open to interpretation by prosecutors, defense attorneys, and citizens.

According to James Copland, director of the Manhattan Institute’s Center for Legal Policy, “The proliferation of criminal statutes undermines a key principle: that folks know in advance what conduct could land them in prison.” Overcriminalization, he says, “has moved us from the rule of law to the rule of prosecutors. And if our laws are too voluminous—if we can go to jail for a mistake—our liberty is seriously compromised.”

Experts studying this unsettling phenomenon have proposed a number of solutions for protecting innocent citizens from overcriminalization. Georgetown Law professor John Baker advocates an “interpretive rule” that “reads in a mens rea where one is not literally provided in the statutory language.” Further, he proposes adding a definition of a “crime” to the criminal code.

Sidney Powell, a former federal prosecutor who criticized the increasing “politicization of the Justice Department and the use of prosecutors,” has called on Congress to introduce open-file discovery legislation requiring prosecutors to share all evidence and information with criminal defendants and mandating harsh penalties for those who fail to comply. She concludes that prisons “should be reserved for people who are a danger to the community. Those who are not dangerous could be engaged in more productive activities (at no or little cost to the taxpayers) while they pay restitution or their debt to society.”

In his amicus brief filed in the Yates case, Smith remarked: “I am glad the court finally seems to understand that ‘prosecutorial discretion’ is no panacea. Federal prosecutors routinely engage in overcharging—seeking disproportionately severe punishments which no reasonable person could believe warranted.” He left readers with a stern warning that “if proportionality of punishment and the rule of law are to mean anything, federal courts must take seriously their obligation to ensure that federal prosecutors are not exceeding the proper scope of their authority under criminal statutes.”

Curbing overcriminalization is vital for restoring the rule of law, whereby laws are applied consistently and justly, as opposed to rule by the discretion of prosecutors. The scholars mentioned above will discuss these issues in a panel on “Protecting the Innocent in an Era of Overcriminalization” at the Charles Koch Institute’s Summit on Public Safety and Human Dignity in New Orleans this November.

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Overcriminalization: Administrative Regulation, Prosecutorial Discretion, and the Rule of Law

Originally published at The Federalist Society by Ronald A. Cass| December 16, 2014

Introduction

Criminal law is the biggest, scariest tool in the arsenal of governmental powers: it can result in loss of property, loss of freedom, and even loss of life. That theme is repeated through history and literature, as readers of Crime and Punishment,1 The Count of Monte Cristo,2 The Gulag Archipelago,3 or countless other works from countries around the world understand.  Criminal law is the means by which government’s coercive power over those within its domain ultimately is effected?either through the direct imposition of criminal punishments or the threat of their imposition.4  It is also a power that is brought to bear through retrospective action; the application of criminal punishments inevitably depends on determinations of fact respecting past conduct and of the fit between facts and legal rules.  Rules governing the criminal law are announced in advance, but their enforcement depends on decisions made after the conduct occurred, determining whether the conduct will be a basis for criminal prosecution, on what terms, with what energy, and ultimately whether the conduct violates the law and what punishment will be assessed.

Because it poses the gravest threat to individuals’ lives, liberty, and property, criminal law traditionally has been circumscribed in special ways.  The essence of the rule of law is the reduction of official discretion to the point that exercises of official power are predictable in advance—independent of the particular official wielding that power—by those to whom the law’s power is directed.5 The development of law in nations that adhere strongly to the rule of law very largely has been built on the foundation stone formed by an accretion of rules constraining criminal power—precisely because it is the power that is essential to tyranny.6

The same appreciation is evidenced in the construction of government in the United States.  The background understanding is illustrated in the justification offered by Alexander Hamilton for the special protection of trial by jury in criminal cases.  Although Hamilton’s purpose in writing the essay that appeared as Federalist No. 83 was to combat assertions that the proposed Constitution abolished rights to civil trial by jury, his essay also underscored the difference those in the Framing generation saw between civil and criminal law:

I must acknowledge that I cannot readily discern the inseparable connection between the existence of liberty, and the trial by jury in civil cases. Arbitrary impeachments, arbitrary methods of prosecuting pretended offenses, and arbitrary punishments upon arbitrary convictions, have ever appeared to me to be the great engines of judicial despotism; and these have all relation to criminal proceedings.7

With that difference in mind, governments in the United States have adopted special rules that restrict the ways in which criminal sanctions can be announced, tailored, and applied.  Prohibitions on ex post facto law-making (attaching criminal punishments to conduct not unlawful at the time)8 and on bills of attainder (creating special punishments for specific, identified or readily identifiable individuals),9 acceptance of special rules of procedure and burdens of proof and persuasion (for example, the presumption of innocence, protections against coerced testimony, requirements of unanimity for criminal conviction, safeguards against double jeopardy)10—all of these are devices for protecting citizens against the unchained and unchecked criminal law power of the state.  So, too, is the long-standing requirement that laws be reasonably knowable in advance, either because they deal with matters of such basic morality that every sentient being can be presumed to understand the nature of the law’s prohibition (e.g., unprovoked killing, theft, assault) or because the person against whom the law is being enforced had every opportunity and incentive to know the law.11

More recently, however, both practical and doctrinal changes have significantly reduced the degree to which criminal punishment fits rule-of-law ideals.  Although far from the only cause, the expansion of criminal sanctions as a by-product of an extraordinary explosion in administrative rulemaking that is backed by criminal liability has helped propel this change.  While there are reasons to support criminal enforcement of administrative decision-making, the ways in which administrative rules are adopted, applied, and enforced and the scale of governmental law-making (including administrative rule-making) that has provided the grounds for potential criminal penalties have produced a massive increase in government power that risks serious erosion of individual liberty. This change cries out for immediate attention—and for changes to the law. 

Admittedly, discussion of overcriminalization, like discussion of “tax loopholes,” to some extent is a matter of perspective.  Many commentators have noted that a loophole is a deduction the speaker dislikes (even if those who benefit from the deduction loudly applaud it).  In the same vein, any list of criminal penalties (specifically or generically) that make for the excessive use of criminal law—in other words, what constitutes the “over” in overcriminalization—certainly is debatable.12  And some scholars believe that focusing on the growing array of statutory and administrative provisions that can give rise to criminal punishment misleads in comparison to the set of cases for which charges actually are brought.13  But what should not be debatable is the understanding that a problem now exists and that its continuation threatens the rule of law.14  No matter which provisions and doctrines seem beneficial in particular settings, concern over the current state of the law—and even more, its direction—should be common ground.

This paper begins with a brief review of the contrasting approaches of criminal law and administrative law—the traditional rules of criminal law and process that provide protections against misuse of government power and the basic predicates animating delegation of authority to administrative decision-makers, circumscribing their exercise of authority, but also generally facilitating administrative exercise of authority.  The paper then discusses experience with statutory and administrative rule generation and application, explaining how differences between administrative law and criminal law play out in these contexts. 

Special attention is given to tensions between the bodies of law (on paper and in practice) and discretion-limiting principles associated with the rule of law. While accommodations for both administrative law and criminal law have been worked out that have been generally satisfactory—that have gained broad acceptance in the United States and other law-bound nations—modern realities increasingly have allowed exercises of power that strain the limits of the rule of law.  This is particularly evident in the expansion of criminal penalties (driven in substantial part by administrative rulemaking) and of the discretionary power exercised by officials entrusted with enforcement of criminal laws.  Debate focused on the frequency of prosecutions misses the point that even relatively rare applications of criminal enforcement powers can have significant effects, given the common trade-off between frequency of enforcement and magnitude not only of penalties but also of officials’ discretionary power respecting enforcement choices.  Changes both to laws and judicially-constructed doctrines are needed to protect against potential abuse of government power.

I. Criminal Law and Administrative Law: A Tale of Two Cities

An enduring metaphor in American political discourse is that of the “city on the hill.”  Its original use in America by John Winthrop, first Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, as well as its Biblical antecedent, denotes a place of special visibility where flaws cannot be hidden and where, hence, there is special reason for charity, compassion, and cooperation.  In a similar vein, the “cities” represented by our criminal and our administrative processes, as provinces of especially important applications of government power, should be especially subject to scrutiny and, ideally, should embody the citizenry’s highest ideals for the exercise of government power.  The bodies of law that undergird these two cities, however, are not the same—they address different needs, start with different predicates, and have been subject to different stresses and distortions.  It is helpful to begin with the basic assumptions framing these bodies of law.

A. Predicates for Criminal Law

The primary principles that describe criminal law can be captured in a very limited set of restraints on the substance of criminal prohibitions and a relatively expansive set of limitations on the application of criminal laws. 

1. Substantive Limits 

Substantive constraints include proscriptions on singling out specific individuals for special punishment—the passage of bills of attainder, which the Constitution makes unlawful for the states as well as for the national government15—on imposing retroactive punishments (also constitutionally prohibited for state and national government),16 on cruel and unusual punishments,17 on vaguely defined crimes,18 and on penalties that are overbroad because they attach to constitutionally protected conduct as well as to conduct legitimately subject to criminal punishment.19  These limits on substantive criminal law essentially boil down to two basic concerns that share a single root: notice and generality.20 

2. Notice       

First, constitutional rules restrain uses of the criminal law that can’t be predicted by those subject to the law, who then are deprived of meaningful opportunity to conform their conduct to the law’s requirements.  That is the burden of prohibitions on ex post facto laws, on vague laws, and to a large degree on overbroad laws as well, where the boundary between the permitted and prohibited cannot readily be known in advance.  These are ancient requirements for criminal punishment and quintessential protections against tyranny; they were known before the time of the Roman emperors, though circumvented by Emperor Caligula’s reported practice of having his new laws written in small characters and posted high up where they were difficult to read.21  The fact that this was seen as a radical departure from accepted requirements for the law underscores the importance of notice to the legitimacy of criminal punishment.  The notice concern also accounts for the recently reinvigorated rule of lenity, requiring that rules subject to criminal penalties should be construed narrowly and any ambiguity should be resolved in favor of the individual or entity charged under the law.22

3. Generality 

Second, constitutional rules also restrain deployment of the criminal law in ways that either expressly place special punishments on particular individuals or are particularly likely to facilitate such special, targeted punishments. The prohibition on bills of attainder is clearly aimed at this sort of manipulation of criminal sanctions to punish those who are enemies of the officials wielding government powers.  So, too, however, are restrictions on overbroad laws (where the application of the law almost certainly will be selective) and on cruel and unusual punishments (a provision that notably requires the penalty to be not only especially harsh but also uncommon).23  As with notice requirements, generality requirements are important protections against tyranny: when sauce for the goose also is sauce for the gander, ganders are far less inclined to be throwing geese in the pot.24 

4. Process Limits

In addition to the nature of the laws themselves, the process of applying the criminal law traditionally has been subject to a substantial number of rules designed to prevent wrongful convictions and to restrain abuses of discretion by those charged with enforcing the law. 

5. Combatting Wrongful Convictions  

One of the elementary observations every first-year law student hears is that society views the risks of wrongful convictions and wrongful acquittals as asymmetrical, with conviction of the innocent carrying greater social weight.  This asymmetry explains a great many special rules of criminal procedure.  A non-exhaustive list would include the following: criminal convictions, unlike civil jury verdicts, require unanimity; defendants are presumed to be innocent, so the prosecution bears the burden of persuasion and the burden of proof; defendants have the right to decline to provide testamentary evidence; potentially prejudicial information (respecting matters such as a defendant’s prior convictions) is kept from jurors.  In all these respects, the playing field in criminal processes is tilted in favor of the accused.

6. Restraining Discretion  

The other leg of limits on criminal law enforcement targets abuse of discretion.  Safeguards such as the prophylactic Miranda rule specifying particular sorts of warnings to suspects (restricting the way police can gather evidence),25 the Brady requirement that prosecutors share exculpatory evidence (which limits discretion in the characterization of available evidence),26 the prohibition on double jeopardy (which prevents strategic decisions on what evidence to utilize and restricts game-playing in trials),27 and the guarantee of a speedy and public trial (which constrains manipulation of the timing and conduct of trials)28 can be seen as efforts to restrict possible abuses of law enforcers’ discretionary choices.  If everyone receives the same warnings, the same evidence, and the same protections against manipulative re-trials, the range of opportunities for abuses of law enforcement discretion is reduced.

The system does not, of course, eliminate discretion.  Indeed, one of the central attributes of the criminal law system as traditionally conceived is the assignment to law enforcement officials of discretion not to pursue particular suspects, not to arrest or charge them, and not to prosecute.  The law does not incorporate a requirement that all crimes are investigated, all suspects are pursued, or all persons who seem likely to have committed crimes are prosecuted.  No one would want to require prosecution or arrest of individuals who, after inquiry, seem not to have committed a crime, or seem not to have had the requisite state of mind to satisfy elements of the crime, or whose circumstances make the crime less blameworthy (for example, the 96-year-old great-grandmother who shoplifts a can of tuna).

Prosecutorial discretion is defended principally on two grounds. The first is pragmatic: law enforcement resources are invariably finite and, in any society with more than a very small number of crimes choices must be made respecting the way to use those resources.29  The second justification for prosecutorial discretion is grounded in the concept of legality.30  Officials charged with investigation and prosecution are separated from those charged with evaluating the case against an accused; conduct of law enforcement officials in deciding which cases to bring (especially which not to bring) is checked by their supervisors or by the public that selects officials who are ultimately responsible, while the decision to bring charges is checked by the requirement that prosecutions must pass scrutiny from officials (and private citizens) who are not subject to the same personal or political imperatives.  In other words, bring a bad case, you lose, and you may also lose favor with your bosses or the public for wasting public resources. 

In the end, law enforcement discretion is retained as essential to the functioning of a system where complex judgments are needed, but the whole thrust of the system (at least at the level of legal doctrine) is to constrain, channel, and check discretion to guard against the sorts of serious problems that can arise where personal liberty, property and even life are at risk.31

B. Predicates for Administrative Law: The Basics

The basic predicates for administrative law look very different from those underlying criminal law:  in contrast to the more “target sensitive” character of criminal law predicated on concerns about potential misuse of government power, administrative law places greater emphasis on providing leeway for agencies to implement laws within their purview in ways the implementing officials think best.  If criminal law leans toward restraining conduct that expands the chances for punishments that respond to particular officials’ inclinations regarding individual enforcement targets or that are less readily anticipated by those subject to the law, administrative law leans toward providing scope for official judgments within a broad legal framework. 

Administrative law is not concerned in the main with extraordinary impositions on individual citizens.  Instead, its domain is the set of procedures appropriate to the functioning of government agencies with broad mandates to facilitate conduct that is seen as publicly beneficial (encouraging conservation efforts or public health initiatives or promoting innovation through award of patents, for example), to move resources more directly toward uses that are desirable (supporting labor training programs or infrastructure building or repair or providing direct assistance to specific beneficiaries, as with programs such as Social Security, Medicare, or various programs for military veterans), or to regulate activities that can conflict with public interests (an endless list of mandates for the “alphabet” agencies: the CPSC, FCC, FERC, FTC, ITC, SEC). 

The difference between the two fields follows from the difference in their focus. The fundamental character of one body of law is mostly restraining, the other mostly enabling.

This does not mean that administrators are free simply to do as they like.  As with criminal law, administrative law imposes a variety of constraints on official action, both substantive and procedural.  Agency action must be authorized by particular statutes, and the first constraint on administrative officials is found in the terms of the laws that set the limits around specific administrative action. 

Apart from specific enabling legislation, the law contains numerous generally applicable rules for proper performance of administrative functions?including, for example, mandated separation of certain functions,32 procedural requirements for making administrative rules and for adjudicating disputes within an agency’s purview,33 and provisions for making information held by an agency publicly available (through open meetings or ex post disclosures).34  Much significant agency action follows from rulemaking proceedings that are designed to resemble legislative processes or from adjudicative proceedings that are more or less similar—at times, quite similar—to those followed in courts.  And most administrative action also is subject to scrutiny both within the agency and, if it is significant, by others through the executive review process (run through the White House’s Office of Information and Regulatory Affairs), various mechanisms for inter-agency coordination (which can perform roles similar to, though not formally constituting, review), and judicial review.35 

1. Imaginary Limits on Real Power

Procedural requirements and review can provide powerful constraints on official power.   But the constraints only work to the extent that they in fact provide effective limits on agency actions.  While some of the ways in which official authority is restricted provide meaningful checks, and in select instances have been very important sources of limitation, more often the obstacles to untoward exercises of official discretion have proved speed bumps instead of stone walls.

2. Nondelegation

One of the potentially most important restraints on official discretion is the “nondelegation doctrine.”  The doctrine sensibly states as “a principle universally recognized as vital to the integrity and maintenance of the system of government constrained by the Constitution” that “Congress cannot delegate legislative power.”36  This straight-forward interpretation of Article I, Section 1’s declaration that “ legislative power” granted by the Constitution “shall be vested in a Congress” makes perfect sense, but has made little difference to the scope of authority given to other officials.  The case that gave the classic formulation to the doctrine, Field v. Clark, approved a law giving the President the power to impose duties on a variety of imported goods “for such as time as he shall deem just” if and when he decided that the nations exporting those goods treated imports from the U.S. in a “reciprocally unequal and unreasonable” manner—hardly a precise or constraining directive.37 

The Supreme Court also has approved numerous other delegations of authority on the ground that the assignments were not of legislative power but of administrative authority, even if they give extraordinary scope for policy choices by administrators, such as the instruction for the FCC to hand out licenses to spectrum users “as the public convenience, interest or necessity requires.”38  The test is whether the Court divines in the governing law “an intelligible principle to which the person or body authorized to [act] is directed to conform.”39 As the Court’s decisions over the past century make clear, “intelligible” does not mean that Congress has done the hard work of deciding what competing public interests should be taken into account, much less the harder work of resolving the inevitable differences among them.40

3. No Delegation  

Similarly, courts might constrain administrative discretion by narrowly construing the ambit of authority granted to the agencies.  In particular, courts might insist on very clear delegations of authority to an agency to act in respect of a particular matter—to assert general authority to address a given topic, to direct its actions to a given set of enterprises or activities, to embark on a particular course of regulation (rate-setting, for example)—even if the lack of a meaningful nondelegation doctrine does little to put bounds around the actual terms of the authorization Congress gives the agency.  This occurs on occasion.41  But courts also have allowed agencies to assert authority over matters when there was no express grant of authority, even confirming agency authority so unclear that the agency had denied it had that authority and had sought unsuccessfully to attain express congressional authorization before changing course and asserting that the authority had existed all along.42

For instance, for many years the FCC denied it had authority to regulate cable television, which fit neither within the grant of authority over telephone and telegraph wire common carrier functions nor within the grant of authority over allocation of spectrum use by radio, television, and other over-the-air services.  When the FCC failed to get Congress to grant authority over the burgeoning cable TV industry, it discovered that the authority existed anyway under an administrative analogy to the Constitution’s “necessary and proper” clause—no matter how unnecessary or improper the actual regulations.  The Supreme Court approved the assertion of authority under a very questionable rationale, an approval that has encouraged further efforts to extend FCC authority ever since.43 

Just as the current version of the nondelegation doctrine grants Congress substantial room to assign scope for discretionary policy choices to administrators, courts commonly allow leeway for agencies to exercise discretion in determining the scope of their assignments.44

4. Deference  

Perhaps the clearest example of the leeway given to administrative officials generally is encapsulated in the Chevron doctrine.45  Chevron declares that, when agency action is challenged as inconsistent with its statutory instruction, courts ask first if Congress has “directly spoken to the precise question at issue.”  If so, that is binding; if not, courts are directed to defer to any reasonable agency interpretation of the law.46   The assumption behind Chevron deference is that courts would have to defer to administrative policy choices if Congress expressly gave authority to make such choices to the agency; by analogy, the Court stated that Congressional failure to specify a precise answer to a policy question can constitute an implicit delegation of authority.47  Judicial failure to defer to reasonable agency interpretations of law in such settings would overstep judicial bounds.48

The Supreme Court has argued endlessly over details of the Chevron test and its application, and it has referred in some cases to older tests for deference as well.49  Scholars have argued over whether Chevron has raised even further the traditionally high degree of deference given to administrative decisions and whether the costs of litigating (and anticipating) applications of the Chevron rule are worth whatever is gained in administrative efficiency or fidelity to law.50  But the bottom line is that under any of the iterations of the deference canon, judges generally have been supportive of administrative exercises of discretion even on questions that are so close to the law-interpreting role assigned to courts as to be virtually indistinguishable.

II. Law-Making, Administration, and Prosecution

Differences between the two bodies of legal doctrine described above respond to different expectations about the critical function to be served by each.  The divergence in expected orientation of criminal and administrative law—between focusing on specific conduct so outside the realm of the acceptable as to be criminal and focusing on handing out benefits to large numbers of recipients, processing patent applications or tax returns, licensing pipelines or television stations, regulating food and drug offerings, and the like—is reflected in different expectations about rule-generation.  Differences in the visibility and frequency of rule-generation also have important implications for the acceptable means of giving rules effect, of the sorts of mechanisms appropriate to assure compliance with them.  Use of the criminal law, as shown below, to enforce an expanding array of administrative rules has unfortunate consequences.

A. Rule-Generation

1. Law-Making and Rule-Making

The initial difference so far as rule generation goes is that rules setting out the basis for criminal sanctions traditionally have been products of legislative enactments.51  Administrative rules, on the other hand, have dealt with all sorts of specifications of what those subject to the particular agency’s jurisdiction must do or not do, how the agency will conduct its business, what its interpretation of its governing mandate is, or how it balances policy considerations urged as relevant to resolution of a specific problem. 

The two sources are not equally suited to quick or prolific rule-generation. Despite recent complaints about “gridlock” and the fact that the Framers self-consciously designed the U.S. Constitution to be more amenable to decisive action by the national government within its allotted sphere, the Constitution also was very much devised as a governance regime whose combination of checks and balances were calculated to inhibit action that did not have strong support across a variety of political sources and regions.  In other words, it was intended to delay action until it had been carefully considered, to frustrate tyranny of the majority as well as of smaller factions.52  The default position was, thus, for the national government to take no action.

 In contrast, administrative rule-making is designed to be relatively expeditious, with “some action” instead of “no action” as the norm.  There are relatively few procedural requirements, and these mainly were conceived as modest prods to fair and effective government rather than as high hurdles that agencies would surmount only with considerable difficulty.53  The public pronouncement initially required of agencies proposing rules was not an elaborate advance explanation and lengthy marshaling of evidence but a simple notice of “either the terms or substance of the proposed rule or a description of the subjects and issues involved.”54  Similarly, the rule itself did not need a full explication of its operation but only “a concise, general statement of [the rule’s] basis and purpose.”55 

As the subjects committed to agency rule-making have expanded and the magnitude of the effects from agency rule-making have increased, additional requirements—judicial, legislative, and executive—have been layered on top of the initial ones, leading some commentators to complain that federal rule-making had become “ossified” and unworkable.56  Undeniably some new and significant requirements have been added to what agencies must do in rulemaking, including those imposed by the Paperwork Reduction Act, the Regulatory Flexibility Act, and the Unfunded Mandates Reform Act.57  But other, much discussed demands on the agencies are not formally necessary to rulemaking.  For example, courts at times have asked for more complete explanation of the basis for a new rule when reasons given in support of the rule did not counter objections that were supported by substantial information in court filings.58  In other words, these were not general requirements for making rules but evidentiary requirements for justifying rules once the initial burden on the party challenging the rule was met. 

For rules of major economic or political importance, the difference may be slight in practice,as there is apt to be a challenge backed by substantial information about the weaknesses of such rules in virtually every case, but that does not affect the vast majority of rules—and it isn’t terribly unreasonable to expect that when rules have a major economic impact, the officials adopting them should be able to explain the rules’ basis in something other than conclusory terms.  However, for government agencies imposing burdens on others than can run to billions of dollars annually, it seems entirely sensible to expect something more than the equivalent of “because I’m your mother and I say so!” 

2. Laws, Rules, and Crimes

Despite the increased justification required for rules, at least in some settings, there has not been a real rulemaking deficit. In fact, rules have been pouring out of federal agencies for decades.  Federal agencies issue between 3,000 and 5,000 new rules in a typical year, covering between 20,000 and 40,000 pages annually in the Federal Register.59  In comparison, Congress typically passes between 200 and 400 laws each year, though outliers have varied significantly on either side of those figures.60

This disparity in rule-creation poses special problems in connection with criminal law, dramatically exacerbating the issues associated with large numbers of federal crimes.  The exact numbers are disputed—and almost certainly unknowable with any degree of precision—but it is clear that the number of provisions that carry criminal punishment has grown dramatically over the past 50 years, and especially over the past 25 years.61  The increase has come partly from increasing resort to criminal penalties in statutes.  Estimates of the number of federal laws containing criminal sanctions generally place the figure in the range of 4,000-5,000.62  The (primarily political) reasons behind the increasing use of criminal penalties have been explored by others;63 for present purposes, it suffices that the pressures for criminalizing a range of activities—including considerable conduct about which views on propriety, much less criminality, differ?and for bringing an expanded array of crimes within the federal sphere do not seem to be abating. 

Even as statutory criminal provisions are proliferating, far more new rules backed by criminal sanctions have come from administrative bodies.  The number of criminally-enforceable, administratively-generated rules is estimated at between 10,000 and 300,000.64  Such a wide spread in the estimates indicates that there are different ways of counting—entire rules, for example, versus separate provisions that contain prohibitions of, or requirements for, particular actions, each backed by potential criminal liability.  By way of comparison, one review puts the number of “individual regulatory restrictions” contained in existing federal regulations at more than one million,65 a figure that would make the larger number of criminally enforceable rules understandable as separate regulatory requirements, rather than entire rules.  It also suggests that roughly a third of all federal regulatory requirements are enforceable through criminal prosecution, a staggering number for a system of administrative rule-making that is built on flexibility for and deference to decisions of unelected officials.

Whatever the exact number of rules, it is clear that finding all federal criminal provisions would require a truly daunting search.  If focused strictly on statutory enactments, the search would cover 51 titles and more than 27,000 pages of the U.S. Code, while looking for the whole body of potential criminal offenses flowing from administrative regulations would necessitate going through nearly 240 volumes of the Code of Federal Regulations spread across roughly 175,000 pages—and that was as of four years ago!66  Even for speed-readers who can master turgid prose and have a taste for tedium, that’s quite a research project.

B. Rule-Application

The enormous size of the corpus of legal materials containing federal criminal laws and administrative rules with the force of law, wholly apart from any sources of authoritative explanations or interpretations, has substantial impact on the way the federal criminal law should be applied—think of this as what follows when the skinny high school kid balloons into a sumo-size grown-up.  Two sorts of problematic prospects in particular follow from the way this body of criminal law has grown: penalizing the reasonably unaware and expanding discretion for law enforcers.  Both of these developments threaten the rule of law.

1. Ignorance of Law in a Law-Rich World

First, conviction under the criminal law traditionally has required that the defendant either know or should have known that his conduct violates a legal requirement.  So, for example, common law crimes in Anglo-American law—such as murder, mayhem, rape, robbery, assault, or arson—required behavior combined with intentionality that together so obviously violated accepted norms of behavior as to give fair warning of what conduct would prove criminal.  Where statutory crimes were not defined in ways that gave similar notice, as happens where criminal laws are vague, judges customarily have held that conviction under the laws violated standards such as due process or the Sixth Amendment’s requirement of notice of the nature of the accusation being made.67  The notion is captured by Justice Sutherland’s observation, writing for the Supreme Court in rejecting criminal charges for a government contractor accused of paying wages too low in relation to those “prevailing” in the “locality:”

That the terms of a penal statute creating a new offense must be sufficiently explicit to inform those who are subject to it what conduct on their part will render them liable to its penalties is a well recognized requirement, consonant alike with ordinary notions of fair play and the settled rules of law, and a statute which either forbids or requires the doing of an act in terms so vague that men of common intelligence must necessarily guess at its meaning and differ as to its application violates the first essential of due process of law.68

In the same vein, judges have remonstrated that “men of common intelligence cannot be required to guess at the meaning of” a criminal law.69

Most discussion of the issue of “fair warning” has focused on the degree to which laws are written clearly enough to pass muster.  But other cases have turned to questions apart from the actual statutory text.  On occasion, courts have asked how much uncertainty in a law’s text can be cured by explication of its meaning by courts or other authoritative sources.70 

Judges also have asserted that requirements of criminal intent can cure vagueness, as where the law requires that a defendant has “willingly” or “intentionally” engaged in conduct.71  Certainly, eliminating mental states (some form of intentionality) as elements in criminal law can aggravate “fair warning” problems.  If the conduct is not sufficiently well defined to satisfy the “fair warning” requirement, however, the fact that the conduct actually engaged in was intended cannot provide notice that the conduct is criminal.72  Knowing that you’re doing something and intending to do it is not the same as knowing that what you are doing is criminal and intending to do it anyway.

This moves us closer to the heart of the problem: the more serious issue usually is not the clarity of the law standing alone but whether there was a reason to expect the defendant to have known of the law in the first place.  Taking these issues together, the question is whether there is a reason for the defendant to have known that the law applied to the sort of conduct that the defendant contemplated.  The assertions made in numerous cases today are that it is not reasonable to interpret a rule in a given way and, in the event the disputed interpretation is adopted, that the defendant should not be charged with responsibility for a violation he could not have foreseen. 

That is the claim, for example, in Yates v. United States, which will be argued next Term in the Supreme Court.73  Yates, who operates a fishing boat, was charged under a provision of the Sarbanes-Oxley Act74 for throwing several red grouper (possibly measuring less than 20 inches long) overboard to prevent federal officials from proving that his crew had caught undersize fish.  The provision, titled “Destruction, Alteration, or Falsification of Records in Federal Investigations and Bankruptcy,” applied to anyone who “knowingly alters, destroys, mutilates, conceals, covers up, falsifies, or makes a false entry in any record, document, or tangible object with the intent to impede, obstruct, or influence the investigation or proper administration of any matter within the jurisdiction of any department or agency of the United States . . .”75  Yates argues that it isn’t reasonable to view the law as applying to someone throwing fish overboard as opposed to shredding or destroying documents (whether on a computer or on a physical medium such as paper or a disk).  He also says that it isn’t reasonable to expect a fishing captain to know the details of Sarbanes-Oxley, a 66-page long act introduced as the “Corporate and Auditing Accountability, Responsibility and Transparency Act of 2002,” codified at various sections scattered across the U.S. Code.

The courts frequently reject assertions such as Mr. Yates’ by invoking the maxim that ignorance of the law does not excuse, but the doctrine makes far less sense in the current, law-rich world than when laws were largely congruent with morality, were widely known to everyone in the community (or everyone likely to encounter the law), or reasonably should have been known by someone in a profession or business as a rule specifically applying to that profession or type of business.76  When there are tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands of rules backed by criminal punishment, it is unrealistic to suppose that enforcement targets know all of them. 

Ordinary citizens almost certainly have no idea of many of the criminal prohibitions and criminally-sanctioned requirements they might encounter, and even businesses that use highly paid legal counsel may not be able to keep up with all of the rules and regulations that could apply to them.  The much-criticized Lacey Act, which criminalizes trade in wildlife or plants that were taken in violation of state, tribal, or foreign law,77 is just one example of a law that almost certainly makes criminal conduct that almost no one could predict.  Its core may be prevention of conduct that is visibly unlawful—poaching alligators in Florida for sale in New York or trading in ivory from illegally taken elephant tusks—but the full scope of conduct made criminal under the law is almost unfathomably large.78  While commentators and judges have proffered several reasons to support the ancient maxim on ignorance, none sensibly justifies extending criminal punishment to individuals who are reasonably unaware of the law.79  In a world where the scope of criminal law is so amazingly large, most of us are reasonably unaware of a great deal that could land us in jail.

2. Implications for Prosecutorial Discretion

The ultimate response to concerns of overcriminalization is that prosecutors will not bring charges against the reasonably unaware, but instead will spend their time targeting people and enterprises that are engaged in conduct known to be unlawful.  One defense of current law starts with the proposition that federal criminal law is the tail of criminal enforcement and that everything other than cases involving drug offenses, immigration, and weapons charges lies at the tail of federal enforcement.80  Concerns about charges based on odd or unknowable laws—use of Woodsy Owl’s or Smokey the Bear’s likeness, for example, two of the many crimes listed in the American Bar Association’s report on the federalization of criminal law81—assertedly are exaggerated because federal prosecutors are as unlikely to know (and to try to use) those laws as defendants are to know them.82

The problem of prosecutorial discretion in a world with such massive numbers of criminal prohibitions and regulations, however, is not that there is apt to be a surge in prosecutions for trivial or obscure crimes.  Instead, the problem is that prosecutors, who enjoy the option of choosing whom to charge with which crime and how many crimes to charge, now are given so expansive a range of potential charges that their discretionary power is greatly magnified.83 Imagine that you’re a student facing an important test; you know 70 percent of the questions will come from three important chapters in the book; the rest of the questions will come from the remaining material referred to during the course.  Does it matter if that material covers 175 pages or 175,000 or 1.75 million pages? Does it matter if the teacher gets to select not just the questions but which students will be asked to take the test?  I have no doubt how my high-school-age daughter and her friends would answer those questions.

Having the opportunity to select enforcement targets and to charge them with a very large number of crimes with potentially huge cumulative penalties gives prosecutors a weapon not all will use and in all likelihood none will use routinely.  The defendants who are on the receiving end of such charges may be selected for reasons that seem laudable; the prosecution and conviction of Al Capone for tax evasion, for example, was widely applauded.  There may be good reason to accept the assurance that prosecutors in general will behave in ways that are consistent with reasonable expectations.

But a focus on the typical rather than the possible—a good analytical instinct in many instances—misses the most important point here.  Giving a set of government officials such a potent weapon, one that they are likely to deploy against a very small subset of possible targets, creates a dramatic opportunity for discretionary choices to be made on less attractive bases.84  Where enforcement is necessarily highly selective, penalties often will have to be increased if enforcement is to be effective; this means that a few people or entities will be charged with crimes for which high penalties are possible but for which most offenders will not be prosecuted. 

Further, highly selective enforcement, if it is to affect underlying behavior, cannot reveal the bases on which enforcement targets will be selected—imagine the IRS announcing which deductions of what magnitude will cause the agency to audit tax filers.  The result is that the basis for selecting a small number of potential targets for prosecution is not visible to, or predictable by, the public.  That sort of discretion, which is largely insulated from significant sources of constraint in individual cases, is antithetical to the rule of law. 85

The problem is even greater than might first appear, thanks to other features of the current criminal law system.  The ability to threaten defendants with multiple charges, many involving few defenses of the sort common in traditional crimes (defenses keyed to absence of culpable mental states, for example), and to confront them with a risk of staggering potential prison time or financial cost or both, allows prosecutors to pressure defendants to settle rather than to fight, to enter a plea bargain that admits guilt (whether it truly existed or addressed conduct that was truly wrongful in any meaningful sense), and to take a small punishment.86 

Worse yet, if the risk is large enough—if the penalties that are threatened are sufficiently draconian—and the costs of litigating high enough, defendants might accept quite harsh punishment, even when they believe they’ve done nothing wrong and are confronted with criminal charges of which they’ve had no fair warning.87  The real issue in the Yates case is not whether the defendant did something wrong; it’s whether the prosecutor should have free rein to charge a crime that seems so far removed from the conduct at issue, one drawn from a law targeting corporate accounting, not catching undersized fish.  What is even more unusual than the charge in the Yates case is that the defendant found an ally to help fight the government, where the overwhelming majority of defendants settle to avoid the cost and risk of contesting these cases.88

The increase in plea bargains in place of trials has another downside: it reduces the effective check on prosecutors.  The defense of prosecutorial discretion historically has been both its necessity in a world of limited resources and its subjection to the check of judicial processes for cases that go forward.  As the number of cases that go through the judicial process dwindles, that argument loses force.  Prosecutors are free to bring charges without having to prove them in court.  Of course, wholly baseless charges that cannot be sustained are not likely to exert much pressure on defendants; but arguably sustainable charges, even if based on weak and contestable grounds, combined with a large number of charges with at least a slight prospect of success can suffice to pressure defendants to settle.  High potential costs of litigation combined with some risk of conviction and huge potential penalties often are enough to do the trick.

III. Conclusion

Growing numbers of federal crimes, driven largely by the immense number of administrative rules that are criminally enforceable, have created a serious problem for anyone committed to the rule of law.  The typical prosecution may be justified and the typical prosecutor may be well behaved, but changes in the law have increased the risk of prosecutors bringing charges against people who have done nothing wrong, or nothing seriously wrong—nothing that traditionally would have been thought of as criminal—and selecting the number and nature of charges in a way that puts extraordinary pressure on defendants to agree to a plea bargain. 

The morphing of administrative law doctrines (which are relatively deferential to exercises of government power) with criminal law (which long was characterized by skepticism of assertions of government power and by rules designed to constrain that power) has reduced historic protections for criminal defendants.  It particularly has diminished prospects that defendants will be protected against charges of violating rules that are neither self-evident nor matters a given individual reasonably should be expected to know, the requirement of “fair notice” that repeatedly has been acclaimed as an element of due process.89

Courts do not need to require actual knowledge of criminality to make the “fair notice” concept meaningful, but they do need to recognize that without knowledge or culpable ignorance “fair notice” is a myth.  By the same token, Congress should place clear limits on the power it gives administrative officials to create criminally-enforceable rules.  However much observers may applaud a given use of administrative rulemaking and criminal enforcement, it is critical to understand the growing risk to liberty from giving officials unchecked power to use the criminal law by selecting from an open field of potential charges as they see fit.  Attention to small risks—not complacency that they have yet to materialize—is the legacy of aspiring to be the “city on the hill” envisioned by those who lay the foundations for our nation.

Endnotes

1  Fyodor Dostoevsky, Crime and Punishment (Constance Garnett trans., Penguin Books 1952; orig. pub. 1866).

2  Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte-Cristo (Robin Buss trans., Penguin Books 1996; orig. pub. 1844-1845).

3  Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, The Gulag Archipelago (Thomas P. Whitney trans., Harper & Row 1973).

4  In fact, many legal theorists of widely divergent governing views and values agree that the essence of positive law is its coercive nature.  Seee.g., John Austin, The Province of Jurisprudence Determined 5-21 (Legal Classics Library 1984; orig. pub. 1832); Jeremy Bentham, An Introduction to The Principles of Morals and Legislation 330-31 (Hafner Press 1948; rev. ed. orig. pub. 1789); Robert M. Cover, Violence and the Word, 95 Yale L.J. 1601 (1986).

5  Seee.g., Ronald A. Cass, The Rule of Law in America 4-19, 28-29 (Johns Hopkins Univ. Press 2001) (Rule of Law); Michael Dorf, Prediction and the Rule of Law, 42 UCLA L. Rev. 651 (1995); Lon Fuller, The Morality of Law 33-94, 209-19 (Yale Univ. Press, rev. ed. 1969); Friedrich A. Hayek, The Road to Serfdom 80-92 (Univ. Chicago Press 1944); Michael Oakeshott, The Rule of Law, in On History and Other Essays 119 (Barnes & Noble Books 1983); Joseph Raz, The Authority of the Law: Essays on Law and Morality 213-14 (Clarendon Press 1979).

6  For example, Magna Carta, the precursor to much of modern thinking about constraints on public power, deals primarily with limitations on powers to take property (a matter then of urgency to the feudal lords who extracted concessions from a very unenthusiastic King John, though of much less interest to the mass of English subjects) and powers to punish those deemed to have offended the King or the King’s law.

7  The Federalist No. 83 (Alexander Hamilton).

8  See U.S. Const., art. I, §§ 9-10.

9  Id.

10  Seee.g., U.S. Const., amends. V & VI.

11  Seee.g., Lambert v. California, 355 U.S. 225 (1957).  The understanding that everyone reasonably should have a sense that certain conduct is subject to criminal penalties (or at least that the conduct of the person putatively subject to the particular penalties might incur criminal sanctions), in fact, provides the strongest rationale for the maxim that ignorance of the law does not excuse.  See, e.g., Ronald A. Cass, Ignorance of the Law: A Maxim Re-examined, 17 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 671 (1976) (Ignorance of Law).

12  Seee.g., Sara Sun Beale, Too Many and Yet Too Few: New Principles to Define the Proper Limits for Federal Criminal Jurisdiction, 46 Hastings L.J. 979 (1995); William Stuntz & Daniel Richman, Al Capone’s Revenge: An Essay on the Political Economy of Pretextual Prosecution, 105 Colum. L. Rev. 583 (2005); George Terwilliger, III, Under-Breaded Shrimp and Other High Crimes: Addressing the Over-Criminalization of Commercial Regulation, 44 Am. Crim. L. Rev. 1417 (2007); Daniel Uhlmann, Prosecutorial Discretion and Environmental Crime, 38 Harv. Envtl. L. Rev. 159 (2014).

13  Seee.g., Susan R. Klein & Ingrid B. Grobey, Debunking Claims of Over-Federalization of Criminal Law, 60 Emory L.J. 1 (2012).

14  Seee.g., Sanford Kadish, The Crisis of Overcriminalization, 7 Am. Crim. L. Q. 17 (1968); Terwilliger, supra. Not every observer, however, would concur that the problem in criminal law is “overcriminalization.” Seee.g., Klein & Grobey, supra.

15  See U.S. Const., art. I, §§ 9-10.

16  Id.

17  See U.S. Const., amend. VIII. Apart from a restriction on punishments that are deemed so extreme and so rare that the imposition is almost certain to be used only against specially disfavored targets, the restraint has been interpreted as requiring that punishments be proportional to the crime for which they are prescribed, a test that, controversially, turns on existence of a “national consensus.”  See, e.g., Kennedy v. Louisiana, 554 U.S. 407 (2008).

18  Seee.g., Papachristou v. City of Jacksonville, 405 U.S. 156 (1972).

19  Seee.g., Coates v. Cincinnati, 402 U.S. 611 (1971).

20  Not surprisingly, these also are frequently cited as critical inputs to morally justified punishment.  Seee.g., Fuller, supra, at 46-55, 157-58.  These concerns also are often married to concerns about legality (a sense that the proper authority has been the source of the law), but that issue is dealt with separately below in the context of limits on the procedures for enacting and applying criminal laws.  For an introduction to the concept of legality and its relationship to other sources of constraint on criminal law, seee.g., John Calvin Jeffries, Jr., Legality, Vagueness, and the Construction of Penal Statutes, 71 Va. L. Rev. 189 (1985) (Legality).

21  Seee.g., 1 William Blackstone, Commentaries *46.

22  Seee.g., Burrage v. United States, — U.S. — (2014).  Justices Ginsburg and Sotomayor concurred in the decision specifically on the basis of the rule of lenity (one element of the majority opinion), id., and Justice Scalia long has argued for a reinvigorated version of this rule, see, e.g., Bryan v. United States, 524 U.S. 184, 205 (1998) (Scalia, J., dissenting); United States v. O’Hagan, 521 U.S. 642, 679 (1997) (Scalia, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part).  Not all commentators agree that the rule either is well-considered or is observed much save in the breach. Seee.g., Jeffries, Legalitysupra; Dan Kahan, Lenity and Federal Law Crimes, 1994 Sup. Ct. Rev. 345 (1994).

23  Seee.g., Harmelin v. Michigan, 501 U.S. 957 (1991) (Scalia, J.).

24  I know: ganders don’t eat geese and vice versa, though there might be a peck here or there in the yard.  It’s just a metaphor riding on an aphorism.

25  See Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436 (1966).  See also Dickerson v. United States, 530 U.S. 428 (2000).

26  See Brady v. Maryland, 373 U.S. 83 (1963).

27  See U.S. Const., amend. V.

28  See U.S. Const., amend. VI.

29  Seee.g., Sarah Cox, Prosecutorial Discretion: An Overview, 13 Am. Crim. L. Rev. 383 (1976); Robert Misner, Recasting Prosecutorial Discretion, 86 J. Crim. L. & Criminology 717 (1996).

30  Seee.g., Misner, supra (explaining the legislative abdication of hard choices to prosecutors respecting what laws mean and which criminal provisions are directed at what specific conduct, especially emphasizing instances in which multiple criminal provisions arguably address the same conduct).

31  For a thoughtful treatment of two different models of the criminal process, one based on effective crime control, the other on legal constraints that protect individual liberties, see Herbert L. Packer, The Limits of the Criminal Sanction 150-260 (Stan. Univ. Press 1968).  Professor Packer concluded that many features of our criminal process sound like the second model (what he calls “The Due Process Model”) in terms of legal doctrine, but function more like the first (what he refers to as “The Crime Control Model”). Id. at 174.  It should be noted as well that acceptance of the necessity of a degree of discretion in the criminal enforcement system is not equivalent to endorsement of the degree that exists at present or its exercise by particular government officials or classes of officials.

32  Although administrative agencies often exercise a variety of functions, all combined under the aegis of the agency head (in multi-member bodies, the collective decision-making group of agency members), critically, the individuals who perform functions that might be compromised if combined (such as prosecuting and adjudicating where significant individual claims are at issue) generally are separated and, in formal adjudication, substantially insulated from controls that might compromise their fairness (perhaps even more than reasonable notions of fairness require).  Seee.g., Administrative Procedure Act, 5 U.S.C. §554(d).

33  See id., at 5 U.S.C. §§553-557.

34  Seee.g., Freedom of Information Act, codified at 5 U.S.C. §552; Government in the Sunshine Act, codified at 5 U.S.C. §552b.

35  Seee.g., Ronald A. Cass, Colin S. Diver, Jack M. Beermann & Jody Freeman, Administrative Law: Cases & Materials 97-103,112-229 (6th ed., Wolters-Kluwer Law & Business 2011) (Cass, et al., Administrative Law).

36  Field v. Clark, 143 U.S. 649, 692 (1892).

37  Id., at 680.

38  Seee.g., National Broadcasting Co. v. United States, 319 U.S. 190 (1943).

39  Hampton & Co. v. United States, 276 U.S. 394, 409 (1928) (laying down the “intelligible principle” test and applying it to uphold delegation of broad authority to the President and Tariff Commission to set tariff rates, formerly a legislative function).

40  Seee.g., Whitman v. American Trucking Assns., Inc., 531 (U.S. 457 (2001); Mistretta v. United States, 488 U.S. 361 (1989); Yakus v. United States, 321 U.S. 414 (1944).  For a review of the doctrine more generally, see, e.g., Cass, et al., Administrative Law, supra, at 16-33.

41  Seee.g., Food & Drug Administration v. Brown & Williamson Tobacco Corp., 529 U.S. 120 (2000).

42  See, e.g., National Cable & Telecommunications Assn. v. Brand X Internet Services, 545 U.S. 967 (2005); United States v. Midwest Video Corp., 406 U.S. 649 (1972); United States v. Southwestern Cable Co., 392 U.S. 157 (1968).

43  The initial Supreme Court approval of authority over cable television is United States v. Southwestern Cable Co., 392 U.S. 157 (1968).  For more recent discussion of FCC efforts to expand its ambit of authority, seee.g., Verizon v. Federal Communications Commn., No. 11-1355 (D.C. Cir. 2014); Comcast Corp. v. Federal Communications Commn., 600 F.3d 642 (D.C. Cir. 2010).

44  For an example of this deference formally applyingthe Chevron doctrine discussed below, see City of Arlington v. Federal Communications Commn., Nos. 11-1545 & 11-1547 (U.S. Sup. Ct., May 20, 2013).

45  See Chevron U.S.A., Inc. v. Natural Resources Defense Council, Inc., 476 U.S. 837 (1984).

46  Id., at 842-43.

47  Id., at 843-45.

48  For a more nuanced, but generally sympathetic, account of Chevron deference, seee.g., Antonin Scalia, Judicial Deference to Administrative Interpretations of Law, 1989 Duke L.J. 511 (1989).

49  Seee.g., Entergy Corp. v. Riverkeeper, Inc., 129 S. Ct. 1498 (2009); Massachusetts v. Environmental Protection Agency, 549 U.S. 497 (2007); National Cable & Telecommunications Assn. v. Brand X Internet Services, 545 U.S. 967 (2005); United States v. Mead Corp., 533 U.S. 218 (2001); Babbitt v. Sweet Home Chap. of Communists for a Great Oregon, 515 U.S. 687 (1995).

50  Seee.g., Jack M. Beermann, End the Failed Chevron Experiment Now: How Chevron Has Failed and Why It Can and Should Be Overruled, 42 Conn. L. Rev. 779 (2010); E. Donald Elliot, Chevron Matters: How the Chevron Doctrine Redefined the Roles of Congress, Courts, and Agencies in Administrative Law, 16 Vill. Envtl. L.J. 1 (2005); William Eskridge & Lauren Baer, The Continuum of Deference: Supreme Court Treatment of Agency Statutory Interpretations from Chevron to Hamdan, 96 Geo. L.J. 1083 (2008); Thomas Merrill, Judicial Deference to Executive Precedent, 101 Yale L.J. 969 (1992); Peter Schuck & E. Donald Elliot, To the Chevron Station: An Empirical Study of Federal Administrative Law, 1990 Duke L.J. 984 (1990).

51  That generalization suffices for present purposes, as it has been the case for several hundred years in America and other Anglo-American legal systems, though reaching back into far older times, criminal transgressions were such well-known and universally understood offenses as to constitute common-law crimes or ecclesiastical offenses. Seee.g., James Fitzjames Stephen, A History of the Criminal Law of England, vol. 1 (MacMillan 1883).

52  Seee.g., The Federalist Nos. 10 & 51 (James Madison & Alexander Hamilton).

53  Seee.g., U.S. Department of Justice, Attorney General’s Manual on the Administrative Procedure Act (1947).

54  5 U.S.C. §553(b)(3).

55  5 U.S.C. §553(c).

56  Seee.g., Thomas O. McGarity, Administrative Law as Blood Sport, 61 Duke L. J. 1671 (2012); Thomas O. McGarity, Some Thoughts on Deossifying the Rulemaking Process, 41 Duke L. J. 1385 (1992); Richard J. Pierce, Two Problems in Administrative Law: Political Parity on the District of Columbia Circuit and Judicial Deterrence of Agency Rulemaking, 1988 Duke L. J. 300 (!988).

57  Seee.g., Cass, et al., Administrative Law, supra, at 531-568; Jeffrey S. Lubbers, A Guide to Federal Agency Rulemaking (4th ed., American Bar Assn. 2006).

58  Seee.g., Associated Industries of New York State, Inc. v. U.S. Dept. of Labor, 487 F.2d 342 (2d Cir. 1973) (Friendly, J.).

59  Seee.g., Maeve P. Carey, Counting Regulations: An Overview of Rulemaking, Types of Rulemaking, and Pages in the Federal Register 5, 16-17 (Cong. Research Serv., May 2013).  The annual number of rules promulgated has been in the 3,000-5,000 range since the mid-1980s.  The pages devoted to rulemakings in the Federal Register account for something on the order of 40-50 percent of Federal Register pages.   See id., at 16-17.

60  Seee.g., Susan Davis, This Congress Could be Least Productive Since 1947, USA Today, Aug. 15, 2012, available at http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/news/washington/story/2012-08-14/unproductive-congress-not-passing-bills/57060096/1; Matt Viser, This Congress Going Down as Least Productive, Boston Globe, Dec. 4, 2013, available at http://www.bostonglobe.com/news/politics/2013/12/04/congress-course-make-history-least-productive/kGAVEBskUeqCB0htOUG9GI/story.html.

61  Seee.g., American Bar Assn., Section on Criminal Law, Report of the Task Force on The Federalization of Criminal Law, at 6-11, available at http://www.americanbar.org/content/dam/aba/publications/criminaljustice/Federalization_of_Criminal_Law.authcheckdam.pdf (ABA Report).

62  Seee.g., John S. Baker, Jr., Measuring the Explosive Growth of Federal Crime Legislation, 5 Engage 23 (2004) (Study for Federalist Society for Law and Public Policy Studies), available at http://www.fed-soc.org/doclib/20080313_CorpsBaker.pdf; John Malcolm, testimony before Over-Criminalization Task Force of H.R. Comm. on Judiciary, Hearing on Defining the Problem and Scope of Over-Criminalization and Over-Federalization, Jun. 12, 2013, at 31, 32-34, available at http://judiciary.house.gov/_cache/files/e886416b-82d6-43f9-8d5d-68c44fc590cd/113-44-81464.pdf (HR Hearing: Defining Over-Criminalization).  For an accessible explanation of the difficulty of coming up with an exact number, see Gary Fields & John Emshwiller, Many Failed Efforts to Count Nation’s Federal Criminal Laws, Wall St. J., Jul. 23, 2011, available at http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702304319804576389601079728920?mg=reno64-wsj&url=http%3A%2F%2Fonline.wsj.com%2Farticle%2FSB10001424052702304319804576389601079728920.html.

63  Seee.g., William Stuntz, The Pathological Politics of Criminal Law, 100 Mich. L. Rev. 505 (2001).

64  Seee.g.ABA reportsupra, at 10; Steven D. Benjamin, testimony before HR Hearing: Defining Over-Criminalizationsupra, at 49, 57; John C. Coffee, Jr., Does “Unlawful” Mean “Criminal”?: Reflections on the Disappearing Tort/Crime Distinction in American Law,71 B.U. L. Rev. 193 (1991); Malcolm, supra.

65  See Wayne Crews & Ryan Young, Twenty Years of Non-Stop Regulation, Am. Spectator, Jun. 5, 2013, available at http://spectator.org/articles/55475/twenty-years-non-stop-regulation.

66  See Crews & Young, supra (calculations based on 2010 figures).

67  Seee.g., Cline v. Frink Dairy Co., 274 U.S. 445, 458 (1927); United States v. L. Cohen Grocery Co., 255 U.S. 81, 89 (1921); Todd v. United States, 158 U.S. 278, 282 (1895).

68  Connally v. General Constr. Co., 269 U.S. 385, 391 (1926) (citations omitted).

69  Winters v. New York, 333 U.S. 507, 515 (1948).  Justice Frankfurter disagreed with the application of this principle in Winters, but agreed that criminal laws “must put people on notice as to the kind of conduct from which to refrain.”  Id., at 532-33 (Frankfurter, J., dissenting). See also International Harvester Co. v. Kentucky, 234 U.S. 216, 223-24 (1914).

70  Seee.g., Parker v. Levy, 417 U.S. 733 (1974); United States v. Sharp, 27 F. Cas. 1041 (No. 16,264) (C.C. Pa. 1815).

71  Seee.g., Screws v. United States, 325 U.S. 91, 102 (1945).

72  Seee.g., Screws v. United States, supra, 325 U.S., at 138, 149-157 (Robets, Frankfurter & Jackson, JJ., dissenting); Cass, Ignorance of Lawsupra, at 680-83; Herbert Packer, Mens Rea and the Supreme Court, 1962 Sup. Ct. Rev. 107, 122-123 (1962).

73  See United States v. Yates, 733 F.3d 1059 (11 th Cir. 2013), certgranted, Apr. 2014, Docket No. 13-7451.

74  Pub. L. 107-204, 116 Stat. 745 (2002).

75  18 U.S.C. §1519.

76  Seee.g., Cass, Ignorance of Lawsupra.

77  16 U.S.C. §§3371-3378.

78  Seee.g., C. Jarrett Dieterle, The Lacey Act: A Case Study in the Mechanics of Overcriminalization, 102 Geo. L.J. 1279 (2014).

79  Seee.g., Cass, Ignorance of Lawsupra, at 689-95.

80  See Klein & Grobey, supra, at 17-32.

81  See ABA Reportsupra, at 153-54.

82  See Klein & Grobey, supra, at 5-16.

83  Seee.g., Baker, supra, at 27-28.

84  Seee.g., Stuntz & Richman, supra; Terwilliger, supra.

85  Seee.g., Cass, Rule of Law, supra, at 17-18, 28-29; Dorf, supra.

86  Seee.g., Baker, supra, at 28.

87  Reports of billion-dollar-plus settlements with the government in the face of potential criminal charges—sometimes for behavior that looks like ordinary commercial decisions of the sort that might (or might not) give rise to tort liability—are symptomatic of this phenomenon. Seee.g., Danielle Douglas & Michael A. Fletcher, Toyota Reaches $1.2 Billion Settlement to End Probe of Accelerator Problems, Wash. Post, Mar. 19, 2014, available at http://www.washingtonpost.com/business/economy/toyota-reaches-12-billion-settlement-to-end-criminal-probe/2014/03/19/5738a3c4-af69-11e3-9627-c65021d6d572_story.html; Ben Protess & Jessica Silver-Greenberg, In Extracting Deal from JPMorgan, U.S. Aimed for Bottom Line, NY Times, Nov. 19, 2013, available at http://dealbook.nytimes.com/2013/11/19/13-billion-settlement-with-jpmorgan-is-announced/.

88  The reported settlement rate for federal criminal cases is 97 percent, a sharp rise over the past three decades, with the increase attributed to growing numbers of criminal laws and opportunities for increased punishment. Seee.g., Gary Fields & John Emswhiller, Federal Guilty Pleas Soar as Bargains Trump Trials, Wall St. J., Sep. 23, 2012, available at http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10000872396390443589304577637610097206808.

89  Seee.g., Lambert v. California, 355 U.S. 225 (1957); Winters v. New York, 333 U.S. 507, 515 (1948); Cline v. Frink Dairy Co., 274 U.S. 445, 458 (1927); Connally v. General Constr. Co., 269 U.S. 385, 391 (1926); United States v. L. Cohen Grocery Co., 255 U.S. 81, 89 (1921); Todd v. United States, 158 U.S. 278, 282 (1895).

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Articles

Yates v. United States: Angling for A Narrower Statute

Originally published at National Review by Jonathan Keim | November 6, 2014

The justices made waves Wednesday during Supreme Court arguments (transcript here) in Yates v. United States, a case about a federal obstruction of justice statute, 18 U.S.C. § 1519, that was passed as part of the Sarbanes-Oxley legislation, which was originally intended to broaden federal white collar criminal laws after the Enron debacle. This particular provision of Sarbanes-Oxley makes it a crime when someone “knowingly alters, destroys, mutilates, conceals, covers up, falsifies, or makes a false entry in any record, document, or tangible object” with intent to impede, obstruct, or influence an investigation, and gives the crime a maximum penalty of 20 years.  TOP ARTICLES3/5READ MOREBloomberg Claims Russia Is AidingSanders in Primary to Aid Trump in General Election

The defendant, a commercial fisherman, was convicted under the statute for tossing three undersized fish back into the ocean after a federal official instructed him to hold onto them so they could be seized, and was sentenced to 30 days in prison.

The parties’ arguments on appeal were even-keeled: the defendant argued that the statute, being focused on white-collar information storage, did not apply to red grouper. The government argued that the court should allow the statute to have its full linguistic scope. Both parties ably articulated and defended their positions. First-year law students still trying to figure out how legal reasoning works should note the Supreme Court justices testing the boundaries of the statutory phrase “tangible objects” by reference to Internet “cloud” storage, typewriters, iPads, laptop and desktop computers, iPhones, an empty filing cabinet, a knife with the defendant’s name written on it, an EPA questionnaire, and digital and analog photography (pp. 5-7, 12, 16, 20-22).

Under the surface, though, this case was about much more. As became clear at oral argument, the justices had deep concerns about the scope of federal criminal law and the government’s exercise of prosecutorial discretion.

The justices initially snagged their hooks on the overcriminalization problem in this case. As you can imagine, the specific purposes of Sarbanes-Oxley – stricter punishments for white collar crimes – have nothing to do with fish. Yet the words of the statute are almost impossibly broad. Justice Breyer’s skepticism was noteworthy (p. 16):

MR. BADALAMENTI: The narrowing is the document itself. This statute’s exceedingly broad. Our –

JUSTICE BREYER: But my problem, of course, is reading the statute and taking your argument in the context that you mean it, which is we must look for a way to narrow this statute, which at first blush seems far broader than any witness tampering statute, any obstruction of justice statute, any not lying to an FBI agent statute that I’ve ever seen, let alone those within Section 15 [sic].

Justice Scalia was particularly critical, describing the statute as “incredibly expansive.” (p. 17) Under questioning, the government lawyer admitted that the statute did not require the defendant to know that a particular matter was within federal jurisdiction (pp. 39-40) to be guilty of a crime, which seemed to surprise Justice Scalia. Justice Scalia also asked the government lawyer to help him find a limit to what might constitute a “tangible object”, triggering a flippant response that tacitly conceded the point (pp. 43-44):

MR. MARTINEZ: I think — I think it’s true that the term “tangible” is different. I think that the way to understand the term “tangible” is the way in which Congress and — and the rules always use the term “tangible” in connection with things or objects, which is as a way to refer to all types of — of objects, all types of evidence.

We’ve cited 35 different provisions of the U.S. Code and of the — the discovery rules in the criminal context and in the civil context. Those are at Footnote 3 of our brief. In all of those instances, they use the phrase “tangible things” or “tangible object” to refer to everything. And so there’s no reason to think that the addition of the word “tangible” somehow shrunk the scope of the statute. And even if it did shrink –

JUSTICE SCALIA: Is there such a thing as an intangible object? I’m trying to imagine one.

MR. MARTINEZ: I — I think the — you could say that the object of the game of Monopoly is to win all the money, but that’s not really what Congress was looking at here.

        ​(Laughter.)

Laughter seemed to bubble to the surface in every swirling eddy of argument. Justice Kagan triggered an early moment of levity when she admitted to not being able to pronounce the name of the textual canon ejusdem generis (p. 8) and Justice Sotomayor provoked guffaws when the defense lawyer (wisely) declined her request to make the case for applying a different statutory provision to her client (pp. 13-14). Justice Breyer even intercepted a question addressed to the petitioner by Justice Scalia and answered it himself (pp. 17-18).

The Justices seemed especially eager to bait the audience to laughter with criticisms of the prosecution and Congress. The Chief Justice mocked the government lawyer’s over-the-top characterization of the defendant’s criminality (pp. 29-30):

MR. MARTINEZ: . . . And just to emphasize what happened here, Mr. Yates was given an explicit instruction by a law enforcement officer to preserve evidence of his violation of Federal law. He directly disobeyed that. He then launched a — a convoluted coverup scheme to — to cover up the fact that he had destroyed the evidence.  He enlisted other people, including his crew members, in  executing that scheme and in lying to the law  enforcement officers about it. And then –

CHIEF JUSTICE ROBERTS: You make him sound like a mob boss or something. I mean, he was caught —

        (Laughter.)

CHIEF JUSTICE ROBERTS: The fish were — how many inches short of permitted were the fish?

MR. MARTINEZ: The fish were — it varied fish by fish, Your Honor.

        (Laughter.)

Justice Scalia likewise criticized Congress’s passage of several adjacent and overlapping crimes that cover largely the same conduct. After the government lawyer explained that these were the result of several poorly-drafted bills (pp. 38-39), Justice Scalia commented that “that explains how it happens. It doesn’t explain how it makes any sense.”  (Scalia was too polite to use a Dickens character’s less delicate characterization.)

Even Justice Kennedy, who is not usually droll, commented (p. 54) that “Perhaps Congress should have called this the Sarbanes-Oxley Grouper Act.”

The arguments also revealed the justices’ serious concerns about the government’s failure to exercise prosecutorial discretion in this case. Justice Scalia was particularly piqued, making the first of several allusions to Bond v. United States (2014) by members of the Court (pp. 27-28):

JUSTICE SCALIA: Is there nothing else you who — who do you have out there that — that exercises prosecutorial discretion? Is this the same guy that that brought the prosecution in Bond last term?

* * *

JUSTICE SCALIA: No, I’m not talking about Congress. I’m talking about the prosecutor. What kind of a mad prosecutor would try to send this guy up for 20 years or risk sending him up for 20 years?

Justice Ginsburg inquired about the Department of Justice’s charging policy, and after the government attorney explained the policy laid out in the U.S. Attorney’s Manual, Justice Scalia again ripped into the government (p. 29):

JUSTICE SCALIA: Well, if that’s going to be the Justice Department’s position, then we’re going to have to be much more careful about how extensive statutes are. I mean, if you’re saying we’re always going to prosecute the most severe, I’m going to be very careful about how severe I make statutes.

It’s not clear whether Justice Scalia was speaking as a member of the Court or as a hypothetical legislator, but either way, these are strong words coming from a textualist.  Later, Justice Breyer piled on (pp. 35-36):

JUSTICE BREYER: I mean, somebody comes to the door and says — I’ve been through this. He passes a piece of paper through the door. It’s the postal — it’s a postman. He says, please send this back. It’s our proper duty to deliver the mail. I say, I hate postmen and I rip it up. 20 years.

        (Laughter.)

MR. MARTINEZ:   Your Honor, that would not be covered.

        (Laughter.)

JUSTICE BREYER: And why wouldn’t it happen? It wouldn’t happen because you’d never prosecute it, though I’ve had my doubts recently.

        (Laughter.)

Even Justice Kennedy deep-sixed the government’s view of prosecutorial discretion, declaring (pp. 52-53) that “we should just not use the concept or refer to the concept at all anymore.”

The Court’s concerns about prosecutorial discretion raise another question: In general, promises to use prosecutorial discretion wisely are not an appropriate basis for interpreting a statute broadly. But would it ever be appropriate for the Court to narrow the statute because the government articulates an unwise prosecution policy?  If so, how far could it narrow the statute?  And on what basis?

Oliver Wendell Holmes once wrote that “hard cases make bad law,” and I think that’s true in this case. The Court’s moral objections to this case make what would otherwise be a fairly straightforward question of statutory interpretation into a much more difficult issue. The text is vastly broader than the Court seems to think is just or appropriate, particularly in light of the 20-year statutory maximum penalty. But as Justice Scalia observed, the terms of the statute are not vague, just broad. Thus, a dilemma: does the Court give a vastly overbroad statute its full linguistic sweep, or does it apply other principles in a way that would narrow it?

The options are unattractive.  On the one hand, the Court could simply apply the law as written and hope that Congress fixes it (which might make for some excellent bipartisan legislation in the next Congress). On the other, the Court could apply some broad principle that narrows the statute in spite of its text, just as it did in Bond (as the Chief Justice suggested on p. 46). But the difficulty with this sort of solution, as it was with Bond, is that the breadth of the principle also reduces certainty about what conduct is legal and illegal, especially for statutes that have not yet been narrowed. Or doing so could amount to judging, not based on existing rules of jurisprudence, but on purely result-oriented principles concocted only for the purposes of one case.

But although the rule of lenity and other canons of interpretation help a little bit, the statute has the textual breadth it does because Congress said so. Since the overbreadth problem was caused by Congress, the best way to deal with the overbroad statute is to amend it legislatively instead of applying fishy interpretive fixes. Otherwise the Court would be asserting a role for itself as statute-fixer-of-last-resort, an impossible position that elevates the Court’s role beyond that of deciding cases in accordance with law. In addition, narrowing the statute would effectively insulate Congress and the Executive from accountability for decisions about what conduct should be prosecuted. Consequently, the best way for the Court to decide this case is probably, as unattractive as it may be, to apply the law as written, affirm the conviction, and exhort Congress to fix the statute. 

JONATHAN KEIM — Jonathan Keim is Counsel for the Judicial Crisis Network. A native of Peoria, Illinois, he is a graduate of Georgetown University Law Center and Princeton University, an experienced litigator, and … @jonathankeim

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Articles Policing

The Plague of Overcriminalization

Originally published at NationalReview.com by George Will| December 11, 2014

America might at long last be ready to stare into the abyss of its criminal-justice system.

By history’s frequently brutal dialectic, the good that we call progress often comes spasmodically, in lurches propelled by tragedies caused by callousness, folly, or ignorance. With the grand jury’s as yet inexplicable and probably inexcusable refusal to find criminal culpability in Eric Garner’s death on a Staten Island sidewalk, the nation might have experienced sufficient affronts to its sense of decency. It might at long last be ready to stare into the abyss of its criminal-justice system.

It will stare back, balefully. Furthermore, the radiating ripples from the nation’s overdue reconsideration of present practices may reach beyond matters of crime and punishment, to basic truths about governance.

Garner died at the dangerous intersection of something wise, known as “broken windows” policing, and something worse than foolish: decades of overcriminalization. The policing applies the wisdom that when signs of disorder, such as broken windows, proliferate and persist, there is a general diminution of restraint and good comportment. So, because minor infractions are, cumulatively, not minor, police should not be lackadaisical about offenses such as jumping over subway turnstiles.

Overcriminalization has become a national plague. And when more and more behaviors are criminalized, there are more and more occasions for police, who embody the state’s monopoly on legitimate violence, and who fully participate in humanity’s flaws, to make mistakes.

Harvey Silverglate, a civil-liberties attorney, titled his 2009 book Three Felonies a Day to indicate how easily we can fall afoul of America’s metastasizing body of criminal laws. Professor Douglas Husak of Rutgers University says that approximately 70 percent of American adults have, usually unwittingly, committed a crime for which they could be imprisoned. In his 2008 book, Overcriminalization: The Limits of the Criminal Law, Husak says that more than half of the 3,000 federal crimes — itself a dismaying number — are found not in the Federal Criminal Code but in numerous other statutes. And, by one estimate, at least 300,000 federal regulations can be enforced by agencies wielding criminal punishments. Citing Husak, Professor Stephen L. Carter of the Yale Law School, like a hammer driving a nail head flush to a board, forcefully underscores the moral of this story:

Society needs laws; therefore it needs law enforcement. But “overcriminalization matters” because “making an offense criminal also means that the police will go armed to enforce it.” The job of the police “is to carry out the legislative will.” But today’s political system takes “bizarre delight in creating new crimes” for enforcement. And “every act of enforcement includes the possibility of violence.”

Carter continues:

It’s unlikely that the New York Legislature, in creating the crime of selling untaxed cigarettes, imagined that anyone would die for violating it. But a wise legislator would give the matter some thought before creating a crime. Officials who fail to take into account the obvious fact that the laws they’re so eager to pass will be enforced at the point of a gun cannot fairly be described as public servants.

Garner lived in part by illegally selling single cigarettes untaxed by New York jurisdictions. He lived in a progressive state and city that, being ravenous for revenues and determined to save smokers from themselves, have raised to $5.85 the combined taxes on a pack of cigarettes. To the surprise of no sentient being, this has created a black market in cigarettes that are bought in states that tax them much less. Garner died in a state that has a Cigarette Strike Force.

He lived and died in a country with 5 percent of the world’s population but 25 percent of its prisoners. In 2012, one of every 108 adults was behind bars, many in federal prisons containing about 40 percent more inmates than they were designed to hold.

Most of today’s 2.2 million prisoners will be coming back to their neighborhoods and few of them will have been improved by the experience of incarceration. This will be true even if they did not experience the often deranging use of prolonged solitary confinement, which violates the Eighth Amendment’s ban on “cruel and unusual punishments” and is, to put things plainly, torture.

The scandal of mass incarceration is partly produced by the frivolity of the political class, which uses the multiplication of criminal offenses as a form of moral exhibitionism. This, like Eric Garner’s death, is a pebble in the mountain of evidence that American government is increasingly characterized by an ugly and sometimes lethal irresponsibility.

— George Will is a Pulitzer Prize–winning syndicated columnist. © 2014 The Washington Post

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Articles

What the Peanut Salmonella Case Teaches Us About Overcriminalization

Originally published at The National Review by Eli Lehrer | 9/22/14

Brothers Stewart and Michael Parnell — the company owner and buyer at the center of the salmonella-tainted peanut scandal that killed nine people in 2008 and 2009 — will both face long prison sentences following their convictions on federal charges last week. But the specific way that the brothers will face justice ought to raise some questions for anyone concerned about laws that have granted too much arbitrary power to courts and prosecutors. Quite simply, the Parnells are being prosecuted and sentenced for technical wrongs when their actual crime was much worse.

Food Safety News, a trade publication that provided the most knowledgeable and in-depth coverage of the trail, puts it simply: “At no point did the government charge the defendants with being responsible for the deaths or injuries that resulted from the outbreak.” The only issues heard in the Georgia courtroom involved lying on paperwork and shipping unsafe products.

Such things should obviously be illegal. That said, civil sanctions, administrative penalties, and fines can do far more to discourage firms from doing them than criminal charges. It’s easier to levy such penalties than it is to get a criminal conviction, and the tools available to civil authorities, such as the ability to close plants and seize goods, do more to protect the public than a criminal trial could. The existence of laws allowing for stiff jail sentences for what are essentially paperwork violations likely give prosecutors the power to lock up almost anyone in the food business. That’s more power than the government should have.

In particularly egregious cases of food-safety breaches — and the Parnells’ behavior was egregious — criminal charges are appropriate. But, in these cases, it’s much better and fairer to try malefactors for the harm they do rather than technical wrongs: In this case, with nine people dead and hundreds more made ill, state prosecutors could have easily charged both brothers with manslaughter and assault. The charges might have been a little harder to prove and the trial would have take place in a state court rather than a federal one. But such a process would do far more to serve the interests of justice.