Each year, the Edmondson Community Organization (ECO)—a nonprofit in Baltimore dedicated to revitalizing the city's Midtown-Edmondson area—reviews an obscure list of properties released by the government. The task is to see how many are situated within the organization's neighborhood boundaries. The fewer, the better.

The owners of the properties that do appear have fallen behind on their property taxes and, as a result, are poised to lose their real estate in an annual tax sale conducted by the government. After poring over the list, the ECO knocks on those doors to deliver the queasy news and alert the occupants to what is about to happen.

The issue is one ECO knows intimately. A few years back, the organization accrued a $2,543 property tax debt on its community center. So in 2018, the city sold that lien for $5,115 to a California-based investor, who then foreclosed on and sold the ECO's building for $139,500. In return, the ECO got a check for the difference between its debt and the lien purchase price: $2,572.

In other words, all told, the organization paid six figures to compensate for the $2,543 it owed the government, in what a new federal lawsuit alleges is a pervasive practice in Baltimore that illegally deprives people of their equity in violation of the Fifth Amendment's Taking Clause as the city attempts to satisfy modest tax debts.

Every spring, Baltimore bureaucrats conduct a mass auction online to sell off liens like the ECO's. Sometimes the unlucky debtors have fallen just hundreds of dollars behind on their taxes.

For that, they may lose their property and the vast majority of equity tied up in it. Following an investor's purchase, an owner has a certain period to satisfy the amount of the lien, along with interest and fees, to keep their property. That's a tall order when considering these parties were struggling to pay the original debt, much less the new total, which has since ballooned. In the case that debtors are unsuccessful, the investor has effectively purchased the property for the amount they paid for the lien.

In the ECO's case, that meant an investor bought their building for about 2,600 percent less than what it ultimately sold for. The ECO, in turn, was left with a fraction of what their property was worth.

That Baltimore's process robs property owners of huge chunks of equity is not just a regrettable side effect, the ECO's lawsuit alleges; it's baked into the nature of the city's approach. "The City understands there that there is a finite pot of investor capital available to purchase all the liens," reads the complaint. "This creates a perverse incentive for the City to minimize the winning bids"—a.k.a. to depress prices—"to spread that finite pot across the highest number of liens." 

Some of the moving parts of Baltimore's approach do seem to imply that the government is not merely unconcerned with owners retaining some of their equity but that they are actively seeking to keep bids low. The more glaring examples included in the ECO's suit show that the city charges a high-bid premium that punishes investors making offers above a certain threshold and opts to fulfill the law's advertising requirement in part by listing properties in The Daily Record, a business and legal newspaper that is not targeted at the general community. (The ECO says this violates state law, which stipulates that such a sale must be advertised twice in general-circulation newspapers.)

"There's a limited amount of investor money out there," says Maryland Legal Aid's chief legal and advocacy director Somil Trivedi, who is representing the ECO, "and the city has structured a system to spread that money across as many liens as possible instead of getting as much equity back for their citizens."

The ECO is not alone, according to the suit, but is one of many victims. You don't have to travel far to find others. "In the same tax sale in which a bidder purchased a lien on ECO's building, 68 properties in Midtown-Edmondson were also subject to the tax sale," states its complaint. "The winning bids on those properties totaled only 22% of the assessed value of the properties—a dramatic loss of generational wealth for the owner of each Midtown-Edmondson property that was lost in the sale."

Home equity theft, as it's sometimes called, was once an obscure issue limited to discussion in magazines like this one. But last year it took the national stage when the Supreme Court ruled unanimously in Tyler v. Hennepin County that a local government had violated the Constitution when it seized an elderly woman's condo over a modest tax debt, sold it, and kept the profit. Geraldine Tyler, the plaintiff in that suit, had fallen $2,300 behind on her taxes, which ultimately reached $15,000 after Hennepin County tacked on penalties, interest, and fees. The government then sold the condo for $40,000 and kept the additional $25,000.

While the ECO's situation isn't entirely analogous to Tyler's—the organization was paid something—Baltimore's scheme could still very well be unconstitutional, says Christina M. Martin, a senior attorney at Pacific Legal Foundation who represented Tyler before the Supreme Court. "If the procedure that you're using to sell the property is designed in a totally unreasonable manner, then obviously people are going to still get robbed of more than what they owe," she tells me. "There's a longstanding history of courts overturning sales that have a shocking result like [the ECO's]."

Tyler, in theory, should have put an end to stories like these. But the lawsuit out of Baltimore comes as some other jurisdictions have devised creative ways to comply with the law on its face but not really in practice. After Michigan's Supreme Court ruled the practice unconstitutional, for example, the state passed a convoluted debt collection statute that requires owners to complete a Herculean legal obstacle course to reclaim their equity. It is a difficult course to win.

"It is the government's choice in the first place to collect property taxes, to decide what regime they want to use to enforce the collection of those property taxes, and so it can't then complain that the regime that it chose to engage in for an amount of money that it chooses to collect is then too difficult to do constitutionally," says Trivedi. "There are lots of jurisdictions around the country that do it differently. Some don't even have tax sales. Some have much longer periods of negotiation and payment plans….Municipalities around the country have figured out ways to collect taxes without doing it unconstitutionally."

The post Baltimore's Tax Sales Are Robbing People of Their Equity appeared first on Reason.com.

Update: About 14 hours after Rittenhouse shared his video explaining his support for Ron Paul, declaring that "you must stand by your principles," he announced that he spoke "with members of the Trump's [sic] team" and that he is now "100% behind Donald Trump."

"A lot of people are upset that I said I'm going to be writing in Ron Paul for president of the United States, and that is true. I will be writing in Ron Paul." So said Kyle Rittenhouse in a recent video posted to X. A lot of people, it appears, are indeed upset. Should they be?

Rittenhouse catapulted to national attention in 2020 when, at age 17, he armed himself, traveled to Kenosha, Wisconsin, during a night of riots and civil unrest, and shot three men, killing two. It was always Rittenhouse's contention that he'd acted in self-defense, and his arrest galvanized many in the conservative movement who said the prosecution was motivated not by justice but by the political moment. Supporters helped raise $2 million for Rittenhouse's bail, and he ultimately attracted the attention of former President Donald Trump, who defended him while in office and who hosted Rittenhouse at Mar-a-Lago after leaving the White House.

So one of the primary reactions to Rittenhouse's choice for president is that he's guilty of betrayal. Trump and the MAGA movement had his back when his life took its most dire turn, the thinking goes, so Rittenhouse owes them his loyalty at the ballot box. That general sentiment is summed up aptly by the one-and-only Catturd: "I can stomach a lot of things—but backstabbing millions who supported you at your lowest point. Then turning on Trump right after he got shot," he said in a viral post. "Can't stomach it—won't put up with it—forgotten forever."

In other words, Rittenhouse is allegedly in debt to Trump and his followers for supporting his claims of innocence. He was acquitted in 2021 of all charges, including first-degree reckless homicide, two counts of first-degree recklessly endangering safety, first-degree intentional homicide, and attempted first-degree intentional homicide. That was the right decision. And it was the one the jury came to because that is what the evidence clearly supported. The right to self-defense is not selectively available to people with certain views. Rittenhouse owes no one a thing for not getting convicted of charges that prosecutors should not have brought to begin with.

So why did Trump fail to gain Rittenhouse's support? "Unfortunately, Donald Trump had bad advisers making him bad on the Second Amendment, and that is my issue," he said in his video. "If you cannot be completely uncompromisable on the Second Amendment, I will not vote for you." Trump's record includes a bump stock ban, which Reason's Jacob Sullum noted turned "peaceful gun owners into felons by fiat," and his support for red flag laws. Those moves may not be deal-breakers for many people, including other staunch supporters of the Second Amendment. They apparently are for Rittenhouse. It's his one vote, and he can do with it what he wants.

Yet his announcement also elicited what has become the predictable response, on both the left and the right, to similar defections from the mainstream: You're helping elect the other guy. For one, that vastly overstates the power of a vote—an unpopular thing to say, sure, but true nonetheless. And it's particularly true for Rittenhouse, who lives in the Dallas–Fort Worth area; if he's casting his vote there, I'm going to go out on a limb and assume it will not derail Trump's electoral victory in Texas, which is almost assured.

But even if it were true that Rittenhouse's vote would have some sort of Earth-shattering effect on the outcome of the 2024 election, a vote is earned. It's an expression of support. If neither mainstream option can produce a platform that is sufficiently palatable to someone, they certainly have the prerogative to make that known—by supporting someone else or, gasp, not voting altogether.

After all, no one is entitled to your vote. They're not entitled to it simply because they're a member of a particular political party, and they're not entitled to it for supposedly being less bad than the other side. And they're certainly not entitled to it just because they said supportive things about you in a time of need.

The post Nobody Owes Trump Their Vote. Not Even Kyle Rittenhouse. appeared first on Reason.com.

The Supreme Court on Friday ruled that the right to a trial by jury and to due process apply to people who face a steep sentencing enhancement under federal law, in a ruling that transfers some power from the hands of judges to the public and will affect many criminal defendants' future punishments.

The procedural history of the case is a bit of a whirlwind. But at its center is Paul Erlinger, who was charged in 2017 with being a felon in possession of a firearm and sentenced to 15 years under the Armed Career Criminal Act (ACCA), which increases the punishment for that offense—felon in possession of a firearm—from a 10-year maximum to a 15-year minimum if the defendant has been convicted previously of three violent felonies or serious drug offenses on separate occasions.

At sentencing came one of the initial twists, when the judge who handed down the 15-year punishment made clear it was inappropriate. Erlinger, who pleaded guilty, had gained steady employment, started a family, and remained drug-free in the more than a decade since his previous convictions, so a five-year sentence, the judge said, would be "fair." But under the ACCA, the court's hands were tied.

Then came the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 7th Circuit, which said shortly thereafter that two of Erlinger's offenses considered for the purposes of the ACCA did not actually qualify as violent felonies or serious drug crimes. Prosecutors, however, were undeterred. They returned to court and invoked convictions related to burglaries Erlinger committed 26 years before the felon in possession of a firearm charge, when he was 18 years old. Erlinger countered that the burglaries in question had been a part of one criminal episode—not distinct events as the ACCA requires—and that, most importantly, a jury would need to make the consequential determination about the separateness of those offenses.

The sentencing court disagreed, ruling it was the judge's decision and that the court was bound by the ACCA, thus reimposing the 15-year sentence that it once again called "unfortunate" and "excessive."

But Justice Neil Gorsuch, writing for the 6–3 majority opinion, explained that Erlinger did indeed have the 5th Amendment and 6th Amendment right to ask a jury whether those offenses were committed separately and if he is therefore vulnerable to the massive increase in incarceration that the sentencing court itself characterized multiple times as unjust. The outcome was at least somewhat predictable when considering yet another twist: After Erlinger appealed on the grounds that his constitutional rights had been violated, the government agreed. But the 7th Circuit still refused to reconsider his sentence, leaving Erlinger to ask the Supreme Court.

Core to Gorsuch's opinion is Apprendi v. New Jersey (2000), a Supreme Court precedent that ruled it was unconstitutional when a judge sentenced a defendant more harshly on the basis that a shooting had allegedly been motivated by racial animus, because no jury considered or made any determination beyond a reasonable doubt on that factor. A jury and a jury only, the Court ruled, may find "facts that increase the prescribed range of penalties to which a criminal defendant is exposed" when it will cause the penalty to exceed the prescribed statutory maximum.

But Gorsuch also says the Court has something else on its side today: history. "Prominent among the reasons colonists cited in the Declaration of Independence for their break with Great Britain was the fact Parliament and the Crown had 'depriv[ed] [them] in many cases, of the benefits of Trial by Jury,'" he writes. "The Fifth and Sixth Amendments placed the jury at the heart of our criminal justice system" in order "to mitigate the risk of prosecutorial overreach and misconduct" and serve as a check on the government.

This is not a novel area for Gorsuch, who has made clear his respect for the right to a trial by jury. Last month, he rebuked the Court's demurral from hearing a case concerning Florida's use of six-person juries as opposed to the traditional, historical practice of using 12-person panels.

Though much has been made of the ideologically fractured nature of the current Court, the decision in Erlinger did not fall neatly along partisan lines. Among the dissenters were Justices Samuel Alito, Brett Kavanaugh, and Ketanji Brown Jackson, the latter of whom argued that Apprendi—and, as an extension, the case law that has sprung from it—was wrongly decided. "I recognize that many criminal defendants and their advocates prefer the Apprendi regime, which provides some defendants with more procedural protections at sentencing," Jackson writes. "In my view, however, the benefit that some criminal defendants derive from the Apprendi rule in the context of their individual cases is outweighed by the negative systemic effects that Apprendi has wrought," which she says has hamstrung judges and increased sentencing disparities.

"The only thing judges may not do consistent with Apprendi is increase a defendant's exposure to punishment based on their own factfinding," counters Gorsuch. "Does Justice Jackson really think it too much to ask the government to prove its case (as it concedes it must) with reliable evidence before seeking enhanced punishments under a statute like ACCA when the 'practical realit[y]' for defendants like Mr. Erlinger is exposure to an additional decade (or more) in prison?"

The post The Supreme Court Again Strengthens the Right to a Jury Trial in Criminal Sentencing appeared first on Reason.com.

What do the National Rifle Association (NRA), the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU), and nine U.S. Supreme Court justices from five presidential administrations all have in common? That list is likely relatively small. But at least one area of overlap was made evident Thursday when the Court published a unanimous ruling that a New York government official allegedly violated the First Amendment by pressuring insurers and banks to sever business ties with the NRA, which the ACLU is representing.

The decision resuscitates the gun advocacy group's lawsuit against Maria Vullo, the former head of New York's Department of Financial Services (DFS). The U.S. Court of Appeals for the 2nd Circuit had previously ruled in her favor.

At the core of the case is Vullo's advocacy following the 2018 shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida. After that tragedy, in private meetings with insurance companies, Vullo allegedly expressed she would selectively apply enforcement action to groups that insisted on serving the NRA.

She didn't stop there. She also sent letters titled "Guidance on Risk Management Relating to the NRA and Similar Gun Promotion Organizations" to insurers and banks, in which she encouraged them to "continue evaluating and managing their risks, including reputational risks, that may arise from their dealings with the NRA or similar gun promotion organizations"; to "review any relationships they have with the NRA or similar gun promotion organizations"; and to "take prompt actions to manag[e] these risks and promote public health and safety." And in a press release with then-Gov. Andrew Cuomo, the two officials urged such companies to terminate their relationships with the gun advocacy group. Some took them up on the suggestion.

The constitutional issue at stake here is similar to the one the Court explored in Murthy v. Missouri, the case that asks if President Joe Biden's administration violated the First Amendment when it sought to convince social media companies to remove content it disliked. During those oral arguments in March, many justices appeared sympathetic to the view that government officials had not overstepped the bounds of their authority and had merely exercised their own free speech rights to persuade those companies to adopt their views, not unlike a White House press secretary promoting an ideological slant to the media. 

But in NRA v. Vullo, the Court ruled unanimously that Vullo's actions as alleged by the NRA had crossed the line from persuasion into coercion. "Government officials cannot attempt to coerce private parties in order to punish or suppress views that the government disfavors," wrote Justice Sonia Sotomayor. The NRA, she said, "plausibly alleges that respondent Maria Vullo did just that."

The decision sends the case back to the 2nd Circuit, which could still give Vullo qualified immunity, the legal doctrine that shields government officials from suits like the NRA's if the misconduct alleged has not been "clearly established" in prior case law. That outcome is certainly probable, as the 2nd Circuit's original decision not only ruled that Vullo had not violated the Constitution—which the Supreme Court rejected today—but that even if she had, qualified immunity would insulate her from the NRA's claim.

It is difficult to imagine, however, a more obvious violation of the Constitution than the weaponization of government power to cripple advocacy disfavored by the state. The supposed reason for qualified immunity is that taxpayer-funded civil servants deserve fair notice that conduct is unlawful before a victim can seek recourse for those misdeeds. To argue that a government agent could not be expected to understand the contours of the First Amendment here is rather dire.

Many people may struggle to separate the constitutional question from the ideological backdrop. The NRA, after all, is one of the more polarizing lobbying organizations in the country, not least of which because its founding issue—gun rights—is not exactly a topic that elicits cool-headed responses. It has also become an advocacy group not just for firearms but for the Republican Party more broadly and the identity politics associated with it, alienating large swaths of people, to put it mildly.

There is another major group in the country that has followed a similar story arc, just on the other side of the political spectrum: the ACLU. Once a stalwart free speech group—so principled it defended the First Amendment rights of Nazis—it has, in modern times, sometimes actively advocated against civil liberties when those principles transgress progressive politics, an awkward move when considering the group's name. But no matter how much you dislike one or both of them, the NRA and the ACLU coming together here is all the more reflective of the fact that some things, like the First Amendment, really aren't partisan.

The post The NRA's Unanimous Supreme Court Victory Is Good for Free Speech—No Matter How You Feel About Guns appeared first on Reason.com.

Prosecutors in Texas last week dismissed the criminal case against a journalist who, in 2021, was arrested, strip-searched, and jailed for filming police. But his lengthy legal battle is in some sense just beginning and once again demands we probe the idea that real journalists are entitled to a different set of rights than the public.

That's because Justin Pulliam, the man in question, is a citizen journalist. He is not employed by an outlet. Rather, he publishes his reporting to his YouTube channel, Corruption Report, which, true to its name, is unapologetically skeptical of state power and supportive of transparency.

The Fort Bend County Sheriff's Office (FBSCO) has allegedly been vexed by his audacity. In July 2021, Pulliam was expelled by police from a press conference because they alleged he did not qualify as media, and in December of that same year, he was arrested for videoing police at a mental health call, despite that he had stationed himself about 130 feet away from the interaction. Officer Taylor Rollins demanded Pulliam move back even further, and he obliged, although he continued to film the deputy speaking to other bystanders at the scene (none of whom were arrested).

That didn't end well for Pulliam, who was charged with interfering with police duties. (According to his complaint, Officer Ricky Rodriguez, who assisted with the arrest, told another cop at the jail that the ordeal would teach Pulliam a lesson "for fucking with us.") In April 2023, a jury was not able to reach a verdict in the case, with five jurors wanting to acquit and one urging to convict. It took law enforcement more than a year to decide not to pursue the case further.

One wonders if the Fort Bend government is smartly allocating resources in support of public safety when it doggedly went after a case because someone filmed them. Yet at a deeper level, it's worth asking if law enforcement would have taken the case to trial at all had Pulliam worked for a formal media outlet. My guess is no.

It is difficult to reconcile those two things. Journalism is, after all, an activity, consisting of collecting information and reporting it to the public. That venture is not exclusively available to people working at a full-time newsgathering organization, and the strength of the First Amendment should not hinge on whether or not you are on a media outlet's payroll. Even if Pulliam didn't consider himself a journalist at all—citizen or otherwise—his right to film the government employees he pays with his taxes should remain intact. It certainly shouldn't come at the expense of his freedom.

Whether or not he will be able to make that case before a jury in civil court is yet to be determined. Last June, Judge David Hittner of the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of Texas allowed Pulliam's federal lawsuit to proceed, declining to award the defendants qualified immunity, the legal doctrine that shields state and local government actors from such claims if their alleged misconduct was not already "clearly established" in the law. 

"The Individual Defendants assert no case law to support their proposition that an indictment precludes a claim for first amendment infringement," wrote Hittner. "Indeed, based on the facts alleged in the complaint, it appears Pulliam was singled out and arrested for exercising his rights under the First Amendment."

Pulliam, however, is not in the clear. He will next have to convince the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit, which has considered a similar case in recent months: that of Priscilla Villarreal, the citizen journalist in Laredo, Texas, who police arrested in 2017 using an obscure statute criminalizing the solicitation of nonpublic information if there is the "intent to obtain a benefit." If that description sounds a lot like standard journalism—seeking information not yet public—that's because it is. But despite attracting some strange bedfellows in her defense, Villarreal has not fared well in court.

While her case is not identical to Pulliam's, they both raise very similar questions, particularly as it relates to the idea that a certain class of journalists should get more rights than others. "Villarreal and others portray her as a martyr for the sake of journalism," wrote Judge Edith Jones in her majority opinion dismissing Villarreal's suit and giving qualified immunity to the police. "That is inappropriate," according to Jones, because Villarreal, who posts her reporting to her popular Facebook page Lagordiloca, is not a "mainstream, legitimate media outlet." Her free speech rights are suffering as a result.

The post This Journalist Was Arrested, Strip-Searched, and Jailed for Filming Police. Will He Get Justice? appeared first on Reason.com.

That there are government officials who politicize the law is about as foundational to the discourse as any complaint I can think of. The criticism is sometimes quite fair. And for the latest example of a soft-on-crime politician flouting law and order, we can look to Texas Gov. Greg Abbott.

Abbott, of course, is no self-styled progressive. But his recent decision to pardon Daniel Perry, who was convicted last year of murdering Garrett Foster, channels the spirit of the progressive prosecutors he criticizes for allegedly refashioning the law to suit their ideological preferences. He just has different targets.

The governor, who last year urged the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles to recommend a pardon for Perry, doesn't see it that way. "Texas has one of the strongest 'Stand Your Ground' laws of self-defense that cannot be nullified by a jury or a progressive District Attorney," he wrote in a statement yesterday, approving the pardon after the board officially obliged his request. (It's worth noting that the board, whose members are appointed by the governor, circumvented its own requirement that "evidence of actual innocence from at least two trial officials, or the findings of fact and conclusions of law from the district judge indicating actual innocence" be submitted to even consider such a pardon.)

It is absolutely true that the right to self-defense is vital. And to argue that Perry—who, prior to killing Foster at a 2020 Black Lives Matter protest, wrote that he wanted to "shoot the [protesters] in the front and push the pedal to the metal"—acted in self-defense is to make a total mockery of that right and those who've had to exercise it.

It is also true that many district attorneys, some of them so-called "progressive" prosecutors, appear to disdain that right. There are the cases across New York City I've covered, for example, where prosecutors are unconscionably seeking lengthy prison terms for people who acted in self-defense but had the audacity to do so with an unlicensed gun. That includes the case of Charles Foehner, an elderly man who shot a mugger in Queens, after which law enforcement brought so many weapons charges against him that Foehner would go to prison for life if convicted on all. That was in June 2023. In November, LaShawn Craig of Brooklyn shot a masked man who'd entered his apartment. Though prosecutors concede the shooting was in self-defense, they also charged him with several weapons offenses, including criminal possession of a weapon, a violent felony.

And then, most famously, there was Kyle Rittenhouse, whose 2021 prosecution for murder polarized much of the nation, despite that, if you knew the facts, it was an obvious example of self-defense—something I made very clear at the time.

There are some interesting parallels between Rittenhouse's case and Perry's case that are hard to ignore. Both men used their guns at protests against police brutality, many of which popped up across the U.S. in the summer of 2020. The shootings happened exactly a month apart. Then their stories diverge considerably, ending in an acquittal and a conviction, because the way they used their firearms was quite different, despite the culture war backdrop being the same. Both of these things can be true.

In July 2020, Perry ran a red light and drove into a crowd of protesters. That in and of itself, of course, is not enough to deduce that he was looking for a fight. His own statements prior to doing so, however, add a great deal of helpful context and show his frame of mind at the time. "I might have to kill a few people on my way to work they are rioting outside my apartment complex," he wrote on social media on May 31, 2020. Also in May, he threatened to a friend that he "might go to Dallas to shoot looters." And then in mid-June, he sent that message about going to a protest, "shoot[ing] the ones in the front," and then careening his car through the hubbub.

This was part of a pattern. Austin police detective William Bursley testified, for instance, that Perry searched on Safari for "protesters in Seattle gets shot," "riot shootouts," and "protests in Dallas live." It is not hard to connect the dots between his searches and messages.

So what about that stand-your-ground defense Abbott alleges the jury nullified? Core to Perry's case and trial was whether he reasonably feared for his life that July evening. Foster indeed had a rifle on him—because open carry is legal in Texas. The Second Amendment does not solely exist for people with conservative views. The big question then: Was Foster pointing the gun at Perry when he approached his vehicle? For the answer, we can go to Perry himself, who told law enforcement that he was not. "I believe he was going to aim at me," he said. "I didn't want to give him a chance to aim at me." But that is not a self-defense justification, as Perry cannot claim clairvoyance.

That the jury reached the conclusion they did is not a mystery, nor is it an outrage. What is outrageous, however, is that a governor who claims to care about law and order has made clear that his support for crime victims is at least in part conditional on having the "right" politics.

The post Daniel Perry's Pardon Makes a Mockery of Self-Defense appeared first on Reason.com.

The job of the prosecutor is to hold the public accountable. But when the tables are turned—when the prosecutor is the one who allegedly flouted the law—it is, paradoxically, enormously difficult for victims to achieve recourse. Lawyers yesterday sparred at the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit over one such barrier preventing someone from suing a former assistant district attorney accused of misconduct so egregious that one judge on the 5th Circuit described it last year as "utterly bonkers."

At the center of the case is Ralph Petty, whose yearslong career included work as both an assistant district attorney and a law clerk—at the same time, for the same judges. In practice, that means his arguments as a prosecutor were sometimes performance art, because, as a law clerk, he had the opportunity to draft the same rulings he sought in court. It doesn't take a lawyer to deduce that the set-up presents troubling implications for due process.

One of Petty's alleged victims, Erma Wilson, would like the opportunity to bring her civil suit against him before a jury. In 2001, she was convicted of cocaine possession after police found a bag of crack on the ground near where she and some friends were gathered. Law enforcement offered to let her off if she implicated the guilty party; she said she didn't know.

Years later, that conviction continues to haunt her. Most notably, it doomed any chance of her fulfilling her lifelong dream of becoming a nurse, because Texas, where she lives, does not approve registered nursing licenses for people found guilty of drug-related crimes.

Wilson's conviction coincided with the beginning of Petty's dual-hat arrangement in Midland County, Texas. Though he was not the lead prosecutor on her case, she alleges he "communicated with and advised fellow prosecutors in the District Attorney's Office" on her prosecution while simultaneously working for Judge John G. Hyde, who presided over her case, giving him "access to documents and information generally unavailable to prosecutors." (Hyde died in 2012.)

"Further undermining confidence in Erma's criminal proceedings, Petty and Judge Hyde engaged in ex parte communications concerning Erma's case," her lawsuit reads. "Consequential motions, such as Erma's motion to suppress, were resolved in the prosecution's favor throughout trial. And despite the weak evidence against her, Erma's motion for a new trial was not granted. Any of these facts by itself undermines the integrity of Erma's trial. Together, these facts eviscerate it." 

Typically prosecutors are protected by absolute immunity, which, as its name implies, is an even more robust shield than qualified immunity. But that issue is not before the 5th Circuit, because Wilson must overcome another barrier: Someone who has been convicted of a crime may not sue under Section 1983—the federal statute that permits lawsuits against state and local government employees for alleged constitutional violations—unless "the conviction or sentence has been reversed on appeal or otherwise declared invalid," wrote Judge Don Willett for the 5th Circuit in December. "The wrinkle here is that Petty's conflicted dual-hat arrangement came to light only after Wilson had served her whole sentence."

But Willett—the same judge who characterized Petty's alleged malfeasance as "utterly bonkers"—did not appear happy with his own ruling, which he said came because his hands were tied by precedent. He invited the 5th Circuit to hear the case en banc, where all the judges on the court convene to reconsider an appeal, as opposed to a three-judge panel (the usual format for evaluating cases).

The court accepted. "The defendants say that [Wilson is] forever barred from invoking that federal cause of action or any other federal cause of action unless she first persuades state officials to grant her relief. If they never do, she can never sue," Jaba Tsitsuashvili, an attorney at the Institute for Justice who is representing Wilson, argued yesterday. "In most circuits, that argument would be rejected, and rightly so."

At the center of the case is Heck v. Humphrey (1994), a Supreme Court precedent that, as Willett noted, forecloses Section 1983 relief for plaintiffs alleging unconstitutional convictions if his or her criminal case was not resolved with "favorable termination." The catch: Most federal appeals courts have established that Heck does not apply when federal habeas relief is no longer available, as is the case with Wilson. The 5th Circuit is an exception.

Perhaps soon it won't be. Yet even if the judges agree with Tsitsuashvili's interpretation of the law, Wilson is not in the clear. She will then have to explain why Petty is not entitled to absolute immunity, which inoculates prosecutors from facing such civil suits if their alleged misconduct was carried out in the scope of their prosecutorial duties. It is nearly impossible to overcome. But Petty may not be a candidate for it, because his malfeasance was technically not committed as a prosecutor. It was committed as a law clerk.

Should Wilson be granted the privilege to sue, it will be the first time an alleged victim of Petty's gets a tangible chance at recourse. There was, of course, the fact that he was disbarred, but defendants whose trials were marred by Petty likely take little comfort in that, particularly when considering it came in 2021—two years after he retired.

The post Can This Woman Sue the Rogue Prosecutor Who Allegedly Helped Upend Her Life? appeared first on Reason.com.

A federal court yesterday heard arguments in an appeal concerning an area of law that, while niche, has seen a streak of similarly situated plaintiffs pile up in recent years. At stake: When a SWAT team destroys an innocent person's property, should the owner be strapped with the bill?

There is what I would consider a commonsense answer to that question. But in a reminder that common sense does not always guide law and policy, that is not the answer reached by several courts across the U.S., where such victims are sometimes told that "police powers" provide an exception to the Constitution's promise to give just compensation when the government usurps property for public use.

It remains to be seen where the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 6th Circuit will fall as it evaluates the complaint from Mollie and Michael Slaybaugh, who are reportedly on the hook for over $70,000 after a SWAT team destroyed much of their home in Smyrna, Tennessee.

In January 2022, Mollie Slaybaugh stepped outside her house and was greeted by a police officer with his gun drawn. She was informed that her adult son, James Jackson Conn—who did not live with her but had recently arrived to visit—was wanted for questioning concerning the murder of a police officer, which she says was news to her. Although she offered to speak to Conn and bring him out of her house, law enforcement declined to permit that, or to let her re-enter at all, so she went to stay at her daughter's house nearby.

The next day, police broke down the door and launched dozens of tear gas grenades into the Slaybaughs' home, laying waste to nearly everything in the house. Their insurance declined to assist them, as their policy—like many policies—does not cover damage caused by the government. Yet both Smyrna and Rutherford County said they were immune from helping as well.

But despite Mollie Slaybaugh's offer to coax Conn out sans tear gas, her complaint does not dispute that it was in the best interest of the community for law enforcement to do as they did that day. It merely contests the government's claim that innocent property owners should have to bear the financial burden by themselves when police destroy their homes in pursuit of a suspect.

"Law enforcement is a public good. Through our taxes, we pay for the training, equipment, and salaries of police officers. We pay to incarcerate criminals. We pay for a court system and public defenders," reads her complaint. "When the police destroy private property in the course of enforcing the criminal laws, that is simply another cost of law enforcement. Forcing random, innocent individuals to shoulder that cost alone would be as fair as conducting a lottery to determine who has to pay the police chief's salary each year."

That hypothetical is absurd. And yet the spirit of it is at the heart of several court decisions on the matter. That includes the U.S. District Court for the Middle District of Tennessee, which ruled last year that the Slaybaughs were not entitled to a payout because, in the court's view, the Takings Clause of the Fifth Amendment does not apply when the state seizes and destroys someone's property in the exercise of "police powers."

The Slaybaughs are unfortunately not alone. The notion that "police powers" immunize the government from liability is what doomed Leo Lech's lawsuit, which he filed after a SWAT team did so much damage to his home—in pursuit of a suspect that broke in and had no relation to the family—that it had to be demolished. In 2020, the Supreme Court declined to hear the case.

Similar claims are continuing to accumulate. The city of Los Angeles refused to compensate Carlos Pena after a SWAT team destroyed his North Hollywood print shop in pursuit of a suspect who barricaded himself inside, and the government in McKinney, Texas, turned away Vicki Baker after police ruined her home and much of its contents while, again, trying to catch a fugitive. After a legal odyssey of sorts, Baker was able to secure a judgment from a federal jury—though that was ultimately overturned by the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit, which ruled there was a "necessity" exception to the Takings Clause. Most recently, the local government in South Bend, Indiana, rejected Amy Hadley's pleas for help after police mutilated her home in search of a suspect she'd never met and who'd never been to her home. An officer's botched investigation led law enforcement to her house, and she has been forced to pay the price of that blunder. Accountability should not just be for the little people.

"The plain text of the Just Compensation Clause contains no exemptions for the police power, for public necessity, or for damage done by law enforcement. And the government bears the burden of establishing that any such exception is grounded in our nation's history and tradition," Jeffrey Redfern, an attorney with the Institute for Justice representing the Slaybaughs, told the 6th Circuit yesterday. "But the government hasn't even tried to meet that burden. Instead it asks this court to blindly follow decisions from other jurisdictions—decisions whose reasoning the government isn't really defending."

In some sense, the government is throwing what it can at the wall to see what sticks. And a fair amount of nonadhesive material is successfully latching on—an exception to the laws of nature that few entities other than the government could reasonably hope to enjoy.

The post A SWAT Team Blew Up This Innocent Couple's Home and Left Them With the Bill. Was That Constitutional? appeared first on Reason.com.

The Los Angeles Press Club on Thursday announced the finalists for the 66th Annual Southern California Journalism Awards, recognizing the best work in print, online, and broadcast media published in 2023.

Reason, which is headquartered in L.A., is a finalist for 14 awards.

A sincere thanks to the judges who read and watched our submissions, as well as to the Reason readers, subscribers, and supporters, without whom we would not be able to produce impactful journalism.

Senior Editor Elizabeth Nolan Brown is a finalist for best technology reporting across all media platforms—print, radio, podcast, TV, and online—for her November 2023 print piece, "Do Social Media Algorithms Polarize Us? Maybe Not," in which she challenged what has become the traditional wisdom around the root of online toxicity:

For years, politicians have been proposing new regulations based on simple technological "solutions" to issues that stem from much more complex phenomena. But making Meta change its algorithms or shifting what people see in their Twitter feeds can't overcome deeper issues in American politics—including parties animated more by hate and fear of the other side than ideas of their own. This new set of studies should serve as a reminder that expecting tech companies to somehow fix our dysfunctional political culture won't work.

Science Reporter Ronald Bailey is a finalist for best medical/health reporting in print or online for "Take Nutrition Studies With a Grain of Salt," also from the November 2023 issue, where he meticulously dissected why the epidemiology of food and drink is, well, "a mess":

This doesn't mean you can eat an entire pizza, a quart of ice cream, and six beers tonight without some negative health effects. (Sorry.) It means nutritional epidemiology is a very uncertain guide for how to live your life and it certainly isn't fit for setting public policy.

In short, take nutrition research with a grain of salt. And don't worry: Even though the World Health Organization (WHO) says "too much salt can kill you," the Daily Mail noted in 2021 that "it's not as bad for health as you think."

Managing Editor Jason Russell is a finalist in print/online sports commentary for his August/September 2023 cover story, "Get Your Politics Out of My Pickleball," which explored the emerging fault lines as the government gets involved in America's weirdest, fastest-growing sport:

Pickleball will always have haters—and if its growth continues, local governments will still face public pressure to build more courts. Some critics think the sport is a fad, but strong growth continues for the time being, even as the COVID-19 pandemic ends and other activities compete for time and attention. There's no need to force nonplayers to support it with their tax dollars, especially when entrepreneurs seem eager to provide courts. If pickleball does end up as an odd footnote in sporting history, ideally it won't be taxpayers who are on the hook for converting courts to new uses.

Reporter C.J. Ciaramella is a finalist in magazine investigative reporting for his October 2023 cover story, "'I Knew They Were Scumbags,'" a nauseating piece on federal prison guards who confessed to rape—and got away with it:

Berman's daughter, Carleane, was one of at least a dozen women who were abused by corrupt correctional officers at FCC Coleman, a federal prison complex in Florida. In December, a Senate investigation revealed that those correctional officers had admitted in sworn interviews with internal affairs investigators that they had repeatedly raped women under their control.

Yet thanks to a little known Supreme Court precedent and a culture of corrupt self-protection inside the prison system, none of those guards were ever prosecuted—precisely because of the manner in which they confessed.

Senior Editor Jacob Sullum is a finalist in magazine commentary for "Biden's 'Marijuana Reform' Leaves Prohibition Untouched," from the January 2023 issue, in which he disputed the notion that President Joe Biden has fundamentally changed America's response to cannabis:

By himself, Biden does not have the authority to resolve the untenable conflict between state and federal marijuana laws. But despite his avowed transformation from an anti-drug zealot into a criminal justice reformer, he has stubbornly opposed efforts to repeal federal pot prohibition.

That position is contrary to the preferences expressed by more than two-thirds of Americans, including four-fifths of Democrats and half of Republicans. The most Biden is willing to offer them is his rhetorical support for decriminalizing cannabis consumption—a policy that was on the cutting edge of marijuana reform in the 1970s.

Editor in Chief Katherine Mangu-Ward is a finalist for best magazine columnist for "Is Chaos the Natural State of Congress?" from the December 2023 issue, "Don't Just Hire 'Better Cops.' Punish the Bad Ones," from the April 2023 issue, and (a personal favorite) "Bodies Against the State," from the February 2023 issue:

Governments do unconscionable things every day; it is in their nature. But not all transgressions are equal. In the wake of the Iran team's silent anthem protest, an Iranian journalist asked U.S. men's soccer captain Tyler Adams how he could play for a country that discriminates against black people like him. What makes the U.S. different, he replied, is that "we're continuing to make progress every day."

The most perfect and enduring image of a person weaponizing his body against the state was taken after the brutal suppression of protests in Tiananmen Square in 1989. The unknown Chinese man standing in front of a tank didn't have to hold a sign for the entire world to know exactly what the problem was.

Reporter Christian Britschgi is a finalist for best long-form magazine feature on business/government for "The Town Without Zoning," from the August/September 2023 issue, in which he reported on the fight over whether Caroline, New York, should impose its first-ever zoning code:

Whatever the outcome, the zoning debate raging in Caroline is revealing. It shows how even in a small community without major enterprises or serious growth pressures, planners can't adequately capture and account for everything people might want to do with their land.

There's a gap between what zoners can do and what they imagine they can design. That knowledge problem hasn't stopped cities far larger and more complex than Caroline from trying to scientifically sort themselves with zoning. They've developed quite large and complex problems as a result.

Associate Editor Billy Binion (hi, it's me) is a finalist for best activism journalism online for the web feature "They Fell Behind on Their Property Taxes. So the Government Sold Their Homes—and Kept the Profits," which explored an underreported form of legalized larceny: governments across the U.S. seizing people's homes over modest tax debts, selling the properties, and keeping the surplus equity.

Geraldine Tyler is a 94-year-old woman spending the twilight of her life in retirement, as 94-year-olds typically do. But there isn't much that's typical about it.

Tyler has spent the last several years fighting the government from an assisted living facility after falling $2,300 behind on her property taxes. No one disputes that she owed a debt. What is in dispute is if the government acted constitutionally when, to collect that debt, it seized her home, sold it, and kept the profit.

If that sounds like robbery, it's because, in some sense, it is. But it's currently legal in at least 12 states across the country, so long as the government is doing the robbing.

Senior Producer Austin Bragg, Director of Special Projects Meredith Bragg, Producer John Carter, and freelancer extraordinaire Andrew Heaton are finalists for best humor/satire writing across all broadcast mediums—TV, film, radio, or podcast—for the hilarious "Everything is political: board games," which "exposes" how Republicans and Democrats interpret everyone's favorite games from their partisan perspectives. (Spoiler: Everyone's going to lose.)

The Bragg brothers are nominated again in that same category—best humor/satire writing—along with Remy for "Look What You Made Me Do (Taylor Swift Parody)," in which lawmakers find culprits for the recent uptick in thefts—the victims.

Deputy Managing Editor of Video and Podcasts Natalie Dowzicky and Video Editor Regan Taylor are finalists in best commentary/analysis of TV across all media platforms for "What really happened at Waco," which explored a Netflix documentary on how the seeds of political polarization that roil our culture today were planted at Waco.

Editor at Large Matt Welch, Producer Justin Zuckerman, Motion Graphic Designer Adani Samat, and freelancer Paul Detrick are finalists in best activism journalism across any broadcast media for "The monumental free speech case the media ignored," which made the case that the legal odyssey and criminal prosecutions associated with Backpage were a direct assault on the First Amendment—despite receiving scant national attention from journalists and free speech advocates.

Associate Editor Liz Wolfe, Senior Producer Zach Weissmueller, Video Editor Danielle Thompson, Video Art Director Isaac Reese, and Producer Justin Zuckerman are finalists in best solutions journalism in any broadcast media for "Why homelessness is worse in California than Texas," which investigated why homelessness is almost five times as bad in the Golden State—and what can be done about it.

Finally, Senior Producer Zach Weissmueller, Video Editor Danielle Thompson, Video Art Director Isaac Reese, and Audio Engineer Ian Keyser are finalists in best documentary short for "The Supreme Court case that could upend the Clean Water Act," which did a deep dive into a Supreme Court case concerning a small-town Idaho couple that challenged how the Environmental Protection Agency defines a "wetland"—and what that means for property rights.

Winners will be announced on Sunday, June 23 at the Millennium Biltmore Hotel in downtown Los Angeles. Subscribe to Reason here, watch our video journalism here, and find our podcasts here.

The post <em>Reason</em> Is a Finalist for 14 Southern California Journalism Awards appeared first on Reason.com.

Dennis Powanda and Vincent Yakaitis are bound together by a common experience: They were both criminally charged in connection with an attempted burglary. Powanda was the burglar, and Yakaitis was the property owner.

Ah, justice.

Indeed, that's not a misprint, parody, or a bad joke (although I wish it were the latter). Powanda was arrested and charged with criminal trespass and burglary, along with other related offenses, for executing the botched raid a little before 2:00 a.m. in February 2023 at Yakaitis' property in Port Carbon, Pennsylvania. The government charged Yakaitis, who is in his mid-70s, with using a firearm without a license after he shot Powanda, despite that it appears prosecutors agree Yakaitis justifiably used that same firearm in self-defense.

Whatever your vantage point—whether you care about criminal justice reform and a fair legal system, or gun rights, or all of the above—it is difficult to make sense of arresting and potentially imprisoning someone over what essentially amounts to a paperwork violation. That injustice is even more glaring when considering that Powanda, 40, allegedly charged at Yakaitis, who happens to be about three and a half decades older than Powanda.

Pennsylvania's permitting regime does carve out a couple of exceptions, one of which would seem to highly favor Yakaitis. Someone does not need a license to carry, according to the law, "in his place of abode or fixed place of business." Yakaitis owned the home Powanda attempted to burglarize. The catch: He didn't live there—it reportedly had no tenants at the time of the crime—opening a window for law enforcement to charge him essentially on a technicality.

If convicted, Yakaitis faces up to five years in prison and a $25,000 fine. Quite the price to pay for protecting your life on your own property. The misdemeanor charge also implies that Yakaitis has no history of using his weapon inappropriately, or any criminal record at all, as Pennsylvania law classifies his particular crime—carrying a firearm without a license—as a felony if the defendant has prior criminal convictions and would be disqualified from obtaining such a license. In other words, we can deduce that Yakaitis was a law-abiding citizen and eligible for a permit, which means he is staring down five years in a cell for not turning in a form and paying a fee to local law enforcement. OK.

Yakaitis is not the first such case. In June, law enforcement in New York charged Charles Foehner with so many gun possession crimes that if convicted on all of them he would face life in prison. Police came to be aware of his unlicensed firearms when Foehner defended himself against an attempted mugger—the surveillance footage is here—after which they searched Foehner's home and found that only some of his weapons were licensed with the state.

Prosecutors classified it as a justified shooting. And then they hit Foehner with an avalanche of criminal charges that would have resulted in a longer prison sentence than his assailant would have received, had he survived.

There's also LaShawn Craig, another New York City man whose case I covered in December. He, too, shot someone in self-defense and he, too, was arrested for doing so without a license. Like Foehner, he was charged with criminal possession of a weapon, a violent felony in New York. For a paperwork violation.

New York is a particularly relevant case study on the subject, as its highly restrictive concealed carry framework was the subject of a landmark Supreme Court case—New York State Rifle & Pistol Association, Inc. v. Bruen—which the majority disemboweled. It wasn't just conservative gun rights advocates who wanted that ruling, although you'd be forgiven for thinking so based on how polarized this debate tends to be. That Supreme Court decision also attracted support from progressive public defenders with The Black Attorneys of Legal Aid, The Bronx Defenders, and Brooklyn Defender Services. As I wrote in June about the amicus brief they submitted to the Court:

[The public defenders] offered several case studies centered around people whose lives were similarly upended. Among them were Benjamin Prosser and Sam Little, who had both been victims of violent crimes and who are now considered "violent felons" in the eyes of the state simply for carrying a firearm without the mandated government approval. Little, a single father who had previously been slashed in the face, was separated from his family while he served his sentence at the Vernon C. Bain Center, a notorious jail that floats on the East River. The conviction destroyed his nascent career, with the Department of Education rescinding its offer of employment.

In many jurisdictions, including New York, it can be expensive and time-consuming to get the required license, which in turn makes the Second Amendment available only to people of a certain class.

So where do we go from here? Those skeptical of rolling back concealed carry restrictions may take comfort in the fact that this doesn't have to be black and white. Governments, for example, can "give eligible persons a 30-day grace period to seek and obtain a permit after being charged, then automatically drop charges and expunge record once obtained," offers Amy Swearer, a senior legal fellow at the Heritage Foundation, or "remove the criminal penalty entirely" and perhaps "make it a fineable infraction," like driving without a license.

Whatever the case, it should be—it is—possible to balance public safety with the right to bear arms, and, as an extension, the right to self-defense. To argue otherwise is to embolden a legal system that incentivizes elderly men like Yakaitis to sit down and take it when someone threatens their life.

The post This Elderly Man Was Arrested After Shooting a Burglar in Self-Defense—for Carrying the Gun Without a License appeared first on Reason.com.