Defending The “Guilty”

            When people find out I used to be a criminal defense attorney, they always ask me the same question: How can you defend somebody you know is guilty?  I could never do that….  I’ll spend a couple of minutes attempting to show you the Framer’s logic of the Sixth Amendment, and then you be the judge.

            Okay, back to the Star Chamber.  The Star Chamber was a place, an actual place in King George’s London where those miscreants accused of a crime were brought and, under the well-established understanding that confession was ‘good for the soul’, were encouraged to rat themselves out.  Proceedings where held in secret, with no indictments, no juries, no witnesses and no appeals.  The various forms of encouragement included beating, threatening greater bodily harm, and the creative use of fire.  Psychologically, it was the equivalent of that scene from an old Western movie:

            Suspected Horse Thief: “Sheriff, I’m entitled to a fair trial.”

            Sheriff: “Oh, we’re gonna give you a trial, son.  Followed by a first class hangin’”

            So, under the authoritative gaze of the collective members of the Chamber, most commoners were convinced to confess, often to crimes they hadn’t even committed, in the hopes of minimizing the punishment.  Today, cops do the same thing, and will continue to hammer away at a suspect indefinitely, until and unless he or she utters the magic words: “I want a lawyer.”

            The Sixth Amendment to the Constitution sets forth the rights of those accused of crime:

            In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed, which district shall have been previously ascertained by law, and to be informed of the nature and cause of the accusation; to be confronted with the witnesses against him; to have compulsory process for obtaining witnesses in his favor, and to have the Assistance of Counsel for his defence.[1]

            Like I said earlier, I can only remember one innocent person in my time in the Public Defender’s office.  That means that there were lots of people who came through my office, represented by a legal-sized file folder (for many, these folders were thick, indeed), whose career path wandered away from the accepted norms of society and into the criminal world.  So, yeah, I defended people who I knew were guilty.  Back then, I suppose I was like any other of the guys in my office.  I felt like “the Man” was doing a number on the poor and downtrodden.  I felt like these people I defended were unable to make good decisions for their lives.  And I felt like they were laden with one addiction or another, over which, as I saw it then, they had no control.  Also, I never asked them.

            My view has changed.

            They are the ones who did it to me.

            Because, of all the people these defendants could have lied to, in the end the only one they actually did lie to was me.  Isn’t that special?

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