When you assume . . .
Once prosecutors charge a person with a felony, that person is entitled to a preliminary hearing (or a grand jury hearing, though those are much less common). The purpose of this hearing is to determine whether there is “sufficient or probable cause” to believe that the person who is charged could be guilty of what s/he is accused of.
The idea is that a felony is sufficiently serious that somebody must check to be sure that there is some basis for filing the charges before the system goes full-steam ahead with a prosecution. Theoretically, the judge (at a preliminary hearing) or the grand jury (at a grand jury hearing) acts as a neutral third party, evaluating the evidence provided by the prosecution and determining if there’s enough to go on.
But judges aren’t immune from the same prejudices that afflict the rest of us. If police and prosecutors have bothered to drag somebody into court, they must have a good reason, right? If this person didn’t do anything wrong, why would prosecutors be wasting their time on him/her?
A few weeks ago, an attorney in the office asked the judge to postpone a client’s preliminary hearing. The client, who had been charged with shoplifting something expensive (can’t remember what), was in a live-in rehab center 75 miles away, and it would be harmful to disrupt her treatment by forcing her to come all the way out here to the courthouse. (Some rehab programs make you start all over from the beginning if you miss a day.)
The judge responded: “Why should I have any sympathy for your client? She stole from a store.”
Of course the statement about sympathy is cold-hearted, not to mention short-sighted (doesn’t society have an interest in keeping people in rehab if that’s where they need to be?).
But here’s the more serious problem: the judge—the judge, whose job it is to take a reasoned, unbiased look at evidence and make sure that the charges are legitimate—had already decided that not only were the charges legitimate, but that the client was guilty. The fact that the client had been charged was enough for the judge to believe she deserved to be charged (and, for that matter, that she deserved to be incarcerated).
The idea is that a felony is sufficiently serious that somebody must check to be sure that there is some basis for filing the charges before the system goes full-steam ahead with a prosecution. Theoretically, the judge (at a preliminary hearing) or the grand jury (at a grand jury hearing) acts as a neutral third party, evaluating the evidence provided by the prosecution and determining if there’s enough to go on.
But judges aren’t immune from the same prejudices that afflict the rest of us. If police and prosecutors have bothered to drag somebody into court, they must have a good reason, right? If this person didn’t do anything wrong, why would prosecutors be wasting their time on him/her?
A few weeks ago, an attorney in the office asked the judge to postpone a client’s preliminary hearing. The client, who had been charged with shoplifting something expensive (can’t remember what), was in a live-in rehab center 75 miles away, and it would be harmful to disrupt her treatment by forcing her to come all the way out here to the courthouse. (Some rehab programs make you start all over from the beginning if you miss a day.)
The judge responded: “Why should I have any sympathy for your client? She stole from a store.”
Of course the statement about sympathy is cold-hearted, not to mention short-sighted (doesn’t society have an interest in keeping people in rehab if that’s where they need to be?).
But here’s the more serious problem: the judge—the judge, whose job it is to take a reasoned, unbiased look at evidence and make sure that the charges are legitimate—had already decided that not only were the charges legitimate, but that the client was guilty. The fact that the client had been charged was enough for the judge to believe she deserved to be charged (and, for that matter, that she deserved to be incarcerated).