The Eighth Pirate Code is part of the Pirates of the Caribbean Cursed Sails limited-time battle pass. So, in addition to earning XP that can be used to unlock items in the normal battle pass, you’ll also unlock Cursed Gold, which will further the Pirates of the Caribbean battle pass. It’s also worth pointing out that…Read more...
The Eighth Pirate Code is part of the Pirates of the Caribbean Cursed Sails limited-time battle pass. So, in addition to earning XP that can be used to unlock items in the normal battle pass, you’ll also unlock Cursed Gold, which will further the Pirates of the Caribbean battle pass. It’s also worth pointing out that…
The Fifth Pirate Code is a part of The Pirates of the Caribbean Cursed Sails limited-time battle pass. So, you’ll be able to earn XP that can be used to unlock items in the normal battle pass, as well as Cursed Gold, which will further The Pirates of the Caribbean battle pass. It’s also worth pointing out that each…Read more...
The Fifth Pirate Code is a part of The Pirates of the Caribbean Cursed Sails limited-time battle pass. So, you’ll be able to earn XP that can be used to unlock items in the normal battle pass, as well as Cursed Gold, which will further The Pirates of the Caribbean battle pass. It’s also worth pointing out that each…
New legislation would repeal parts of the Comstock Act, a Victorian-era law that's being revived to attack abortion pills. Passed in 1873, the Comstock Act was a big deal in earlier eras, sending people to prison for publishing information about birth control, critiques of marriage, and more. The law is vague and broad, banning the mailing of any "article, matter, thing, device, or substance" that the government deems "obscene, lewd, lascivious,
New legislation would repeal parts of the Comstock Act, a Victorian-era law that's being revived to attack abortion pills.
Passed in 1873, the Comstock Act was a big deal in earlier eras, sending people to prison for publishing information about birth control, critiques of marriage, and more.
The law is vague and broad, banning the mailing of any "article, matter, thing, device, or substance" that the government deems "obscene, lewd, lascivious, indecent, filthy or vile," along with anything "designed, adapted, or intended for producing abortion, or for any indecent or immoral use." Essentially, the Comstock Act weaponizes the U.S. Postal Service to give the federal government an in against things that otherwise wouldn't be its business.
"Anthony Comstock, the law's namesake and an anti-smut crusader, lobbied for and personally enforced the law as a special agent of the U.S. Postal Service," noted the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE) lawyer Robert Corn-Revere in a recent piece for Reason about efforts to posthumously pardon publisher D.M. Bennett. "Under the law's broad mandate, everything that Comstock considered immoral was by definition obscene and, therefore, illegal. Comstock's concept of immorality included blasphemy, sensational novels and news stories, art, and even scientific and medical texts." (You can read more about Comstock, "the prodigal censor," here.)
The Comstock Act lay dormant for a while, rendered toothless in part by court interpretations of the First Amendment that were more vigorously protective of free speech. But these days, activists and politicians opposed to abortion are trying to revive the law, seeing its potential usefulness in going after mifepristone and misoprostol, the two-pill regimen approved to end first-trimester pregnancies.
The resurgence of interest in the Comstock Act underscores the need to repeal bad laws, not simply assume them defanged by decades of latency.
The Biden administration certainly isn't going to start prosecuting people under the Comstock Act, but a more conservative future administration could. "[Donald] Trumps' [sic] advisors are…arguing that the Comstock Act is a de facto national abortion ban already on the books," says Madison Roberts, senior policy counsel at the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). "They are wrong. The Department of Justice has made clear and federal appeals courts have uniformly held for almost a century that the Comstock Act does not apply to legal abortion care. But anti-abortion extremists have manipulated the law to ban abortion before, and there's no reason to think they won't try it again."
Moreover, the law was cited in a legal challenge to abortion pills and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration's decision to let them be sent via mail. The district judge who first heard the case (and sided with the plaintiffs) wrote that "dispensing of chemical abortion drugs through mail violates unambiguous federal criminal law." That case was shot down by the U.S. Supreme Court last week on procedural grounds, but it certainly won't be the last attempt to stop the prescription and mailing of abortion pills. Nor is it likely to be the last time Comstock is invoked for this purpose—unless the act is revised or repealed.
"It is too dangerous to leave this law on the books," Sen. Tina Smith (D–Minn.) said in a statement.
The Stop Comstock Act, which Smith is slated to introduce soon (no draft has been released yet, however), would repeal the parts of the law "that could be used by an anti-abortion administration to ban the mailing of mifepristone and other drugs used in medication abortions, instruments and equipment used in abortions, and educational material related to sexual health," per Smith's press release. A companion bill will be introduced in the House by Rep. Becca Balint (D–Vt.).
This is good, but not far enough, if it only partially repeals the law.
Why stop with repealing the parts that could be used to target abortion? The Comstock Act's reach is much more broad than that, and every bit could do some damage in the wrong hands.
Every article or thing designed, adapted, or intended for producing abortion, or for any indecent or immoral use; and
Every article, instrument, substance, drug, medicine, or thing which is advertised or described in a manner calculated to lead another to use or apply it for producing abortion, or for any indecent or immoral purpose; and
Every written or printed card, letter, circular, book, pamphlet, advertisement, or notice of any kind giving information, directly or indirectly, where, or how, or from whom, or by what means any of such mentioned matters, articles, or things may be obtained or made, or where or by whom any act or operation of any kind for the procuring or producing of abortion will be done or performed, or how or by what means abortion may be produced, whether sealed or unsealed; and
Every paper, writing, advertisement, or representation that any article, instrument, substance, drug, medicine, or thing may, or can, be used or applied for producing abortion, or for any indecent or immoral purpose; and
Every description calculated to induce or incite a person to so use or apply any such article, instrument, substance, drug, medicine, or thing.
It's time to repeal the whole thing.
Today, it's only the abortion part of the law that people are trying to revive. But a few years ago, most of us weren't expecting a Comstock revival at all. Who's to say that a few years from now, people won't try to use it against all sorts of information, art, etc. that they don't like?
If we want to stop the Comstock Act from ever again being used to suppress speech, restrict access to contraceptives, punish people for homosexuality, and more, then we need to stop the Comstock Act entirely.
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 botche
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.
Federal judges will be limited from enhancing defendants' sentences based on conduct a jury acquitted them of, a practice that has drawn condemnation from a wide range of civil liberties groups, lawmakers, and jurists. The U.S. Sentencing Commission, a bipartisan panel that creates guidelines for the federal judiciary, voted unanimously Wednesday to adopt an amendment prohibiting judges from using acquitted conduct when calculating a defendant's
Federal judges will be limited from enhancing defendants' sentences based on conduct a jury acquitted them of, a practice that has drawn condemnation from a wide range of civil liberties groups, lawmakers, and jurists.
The U.S. Sentencing Commission, a bipartisan panel that creates guidelines for the federal judiciary, voted unanimously Wednesday to adopt an amendment prohibiting judges from using acquitted conduct when calculating a defendant's sentencing range under those guidelines. The only exception is if the conduct "also establishes, in whole or in part, the instant offense of conviction."
"Not guilty means not guilty," U.S. District Judge Carlton W. Reeves, the chair of the Sentencing Commission, said in a press release. "By enshrining this basic fact within the federal sentencing guidelines, the Commission is taking an important step to protect the credibility of our courts and criminal justice system."
Although it sounds antithetical to what everyone is taught about the American justice system, at the sentencing phase of a trial, federal judges could enhance defendants' sentences for conduct they were acquitted of if the judge decided it was more likely than not—a lower standard of evidence than "beyond a reasonable doubt"—that the defendant committed those offenses. This raised defendants' scores under the federal sentencing guidelines, leading to significantly longer prison sentences.
For example, Reason's Billy Binion reported on the case of Dayonta McClinton, who was charged with robbing a CVS pharmacy in Indiana at gunpoint and killing one of his accomplices during a dispute after the robbery. A jury convicted McClinton of robbing the pharmacy but acquitted him of killing his accomplice. A federal judge nevertheless used the accomplice's death to enhance McClinton's sentence from the 57–71 months recommended under the guidelines to 228 months.
McClinton filed a petition to the Supreme Court challenging the use of acquitted conduct at his sentencing, but despite several Supreme Court justices previously expressing doubt about the constitutionality of the practice—including Justices Brett Kavanaugh and Clarence Thomas—the Court declined to take up the case last June. Reuters reported that four of the justices signaled they would defer to the Sentencing Commission.
The Justice Department opposed a previous proposal by the Sentencing Commission to limit the use of acquitted conduct.
"Curtailing courts' discretion to consider conduct related to acquitted counts would be a significant departure from long-standing sentencing practice, Supreme Court precedent and the principles of our guidelines," Jessica Aber, the U.S. attorney for the Eastern District of Virginia, testified before the Commission last February.
The Justice Department declined to comment on the new policy.
The practice also outraged members of Congress. For the past several years, Sens. Chuck Grassley (R–Iowa) and Dick Durbin (D–Ill.) have introduced legislation to ban the use of acquitted conduct at sentencing in federal trials, but so far none have passed.
In a statement today, Durbin continued to call for the passage of his and Grassley's Prohibiting Punishment of Acquitted Conduct Act, saying "this unjust practice must be prohibited under federal law."
"Under our Constitution, defendants can only be convicted of a crime if a jury of their peers finds they are guilty beyond a reasonable doubt," Durbin said. "However, federal law inexplicably allows judges to override a jury verdict of 'not guilty' by sentencing defendants based on acquitted conduct. This practice is inconsistent with the Constitution's guarantees of due process and the right to a jury trial. That's why I applaud the Sentencing Commission's important step to limit the use of acquitted conduct."