The Fourth Amendment guarantees that every person shall be "secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures." This means government agents cannot enter your home or rifle through your stuff without a warrant, signed by a judge and based on probable cause. That right extends to the digital sphere: The Supreme Court ruled in 2018's Carpenter v. United States that the government must have a warrant to track people's movements through their cellphone data.

But governments are increasingly circumventing these protections by using taxpayer dollars to pay private companies to spy on citizens. Government agencies have found many creative and enterprising ways to skirt the Fourth Amendment.

Cellphones generate reams of information about us even when they're just in our pockets, including revealing our geographical locations—information that is then sold by third-party brokers. In 2017 and 2018, the IRS Criminal Investigation unit (IRS CI) purchased access to a commercial database containing geolocation data from millions of Americans' cellphones. A spokesman said IRS CI only used the data for "significant money-laundering, cyber, drug and organized-crime cases" and 
terminated the contract when it failed to yield any useful leads.

During the same time period, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) paid more than $1 million for access to cellphone geolocation databases in an attempt to detect undocumented immigrants entering the country. The Wall Street Journal reported that ICE had used this information to identify and arrest migrants.

In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention spent $420,000 on location data in order to track "compliance" with "movement restrictions," such as curfews, as well as to "track patterns of those visiting K-12 schools."

The Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA) admitted in a January 2021 memo that it purchases "commercially available geolocation metadata aggregated from smartphones" and that it had searched the database for Americans' movement histories "five times in the past two-and-a-half years." The memo further stipulated that "DIA does not construe the Carpenter decision to require a judicial warrant endorsing purchase or use of commercially
available data for intelligence purposes."

Even in the physical world, governments have contracted out their spying. The Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) spent millions of dollars paying employees at private companies and government agencies for personal information that would otherwise require a warrant. This included paying an administrator at a private parcel delivery service to search people's packages and send them to the DEA, and paying an Amtrak official for travel reservation information. In the latter case, the DEA already had an agreement in place under which Amtrak Police would provide that information for free, but the agency instead spent $850,000 over two decades paying somebody off.

It seems the only thing more enterprising than a government agent with a warrant is a government agent without one.

The post The Feds Are Skirting the Fourth Amendment by Buying Data appeared first on Reason.com.

The Fourth Amendment's protection against unreasonable searches and seizures extends to the length of a seizure, a federal court ruled last week, significantly restricting how long law enforcement can retain private property after an arrest.

"When the government seizes property incident to a lawful arrest, the Fourth Amendment requires that any continued possession of the property must be reasonable," wrote Judge Gregory Katsas of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of Columbia in a unanimous ruling.

Most courts of appeal to pass judgment on the issue—namely, the 1st, 2nd, 6th, 7th, and 11th circuits—have held that, once an item is seized, law enforcement can retain the item indefinitely without violating the Fourth Amendment. These precedents have allowed police to retain personal property without clear legal grounds, effectively stripping people of their property rights merely because they were arrested. The D.C. Court of Appeals' ruling complicates this general consensus.

Though law enforcement does not have to return property "instantaneously," Katsas wrote, the Fourth Amendment requires that any "continuing retention of seized property" be reasonable. So while police can use seized items for "legitimate law-enforcement purposes," such as for evidence at trial, and are permitted some delay for "matching a person with his effects," prolonged seizures serving no important function can implicate the Fourth Amendment, the court ruled.

Given that the D.C. court finds itself in the minority on the question, some say that the case may be primed for the Supreme Court if the District chooses to appeal. "This case has potential to make national precedent," Paul Belonick, a professor at the University of California, San Francisco law school, tells Reason. "The influential D.C. Circuit deliberately intensified a circuit split and put itself in the minority of circuits on the question, teeing it up cleanly for certiorari."

The plaintiffs each had their property seized by D.C.'s Metropolitan Police Department (MPD). Five of the plaintiffs were arrested during a Black Lives Matter protest in the Adams Morgan neighborhood of D.C. on August 13, 2020.

As they were arrested, MPD officers seized their phones and other items. Though the protesters did not face any charges and were, in Katsas' words, "quickly released," MPD retained their phones for around a year. Some of the plaintiffs had to wait over 14 months to get their property back.

In the meantime, the plaintiffs say that they were forced to replace their phones and lost access to the important information on the originals, including personal files, contacts, and passwords. "The plaintiffs have alleged that the seizures at issue, though lawful at their inception, later came to unreasonably interfere with their protected possessory interests in their own property," Katsas explained.

"MPD is aware of the ruling and will continue to work with our partners at the United States Attorney's Office to ensure that our members are trained appropriately to ensure compliance with recent rulings," a spokesperson for MPD tells Reason.

"Practically, this case is important because police have been exploiting a gap in the Fourth Amendment," Andrew Ferguson, a professor at American University's Washington College of Law, tells Reason. "In situations where there is a lawful arrest, but no prosecution, there are no clear rules on retaining personal property. In these cases, police have been confiscating phones to punish protestors."

Michael Perloff, the lead attorney for the plaintiffs, agreed that the D.C. Circuit's decision could set an important precedent going forward. "Nationally, we've seen litigants attempt to challenge similar practices only to fail because the court concluded that the Fourth Amendment does not limit the duration of a seizure," he tells Reason. "Moving forward, we are hopeful that the D.C. Circuit's opinion will lead courts to reconsider those rulings and, instead, enforce the Fourth Amendment as fully as the framers intended."

The post Police Cannot Seize Property Indefinitely After an Arrest, Federal Court Rules appeared first on Reason.com.

Two police officers in Watonga, Oklahoma, are under state investigation after body camera footage showed them slamming a father to the ground while he was taking his son for an early morning walk.

The Oklahoma State Bureau of Investigation (OSBI) confirmed to local news outlets that it's investigating whether the two Watonga officers used excessive force when they violently detained John Sexton on the morning of July 4.

The incident has led to hundreds of calls from outraged citizens to the police department, local news outlets, and the county sheriff, who has publicly called on the officers to be placed on leave.

Sexton was walking with his 6-year-old son, who has autism, around 6 a.m. when he was stopped by two Watonga police officers.

Watch the video below:

Father body slammed and arrəsted for taking "suspicious" early morning walk with his 6 year old son

OK officers arrəsted the man while walking with his son because he did not provide ID upon demand.

Do you think this was excessive? pic.twitter.com/BG1HGPGLpZ

— TaraBull (@TaraBull808) August 3, 2024

"Found it a little bit suspicious, just the walking around," one of the officers said.

"Walking around is a little bit suspicious?" Sexton replied.

"Technically not really," the officer said, "but, I mean, it is pretty early in the morning. Just wondering what was going on."

The other office then asked Sexton for his ID.

"I don't need to show my ID," he responded.

Sexton is correct. Oklahoma is not a "stop and identify" state, where police can demand the name of pedestrians, and even in those states, officers need a reasonable suspicion that the person is involved in a crime.

Nevertheless, police around the country continue to abuse their authority and arrest people for asserting their rights. In 2022 for example, a pair of Florida sheriff's deputies were demoted for arresting a legally blind man who lawfully refused to give his ID.

The Watonga offices appear similarly ignorant. One threatens to arrest and jail Sexton for failing to identify himself, "because I've identified that you've been walking around here at 5:30 in the morning."

"Yeah, we do that," Sexton replied.

"No, you're not. Give me your ID," the officer demanded.

Sexton said he left his ID at his house and repeated, correctly, that Oklahoma doesn't require him to identify himself.

One of the officers then tried to detain Sexton, who pulled away and attempted to record the incident with his cellphone. The officer then grabbed Sexton and swung him to the ground while Sexton's young son started wailing.

Sexton was briefly detained before being released without being charged. He has since filed a complaint with the Watonga Police Department, and the release of body camera footage of the incident has outraged residents.

Blaine County Sheriff Travis Daugherty told local news outlet KOCO News that his office received over 200 calls about the incident. Daugherty also said one of the officers involved was a former deputy in his office but had been demoted and eventually left to join the Watonga Police Department.

"The deputies that were underneath him, they had lost faith in him as their leader. Yeah, and so I demoted him back later," Daugherty said.

Lack of central databases of police disciplinary records and poor background checks lead to problem officers bouncing from department to department, leaving a trail of complaints and lawsuits in their wake.

Daugherty also sent a letter to residents pushing for the officers to be placed on leave until the investigation is complete.

"This is not a matter of me deciding if they are guilty or not; this is for the citizens to know that somebody is listening, and I hope to bring peace of mind and put citizens at ease to know that Watonga is doing everything they can to ensure the safety of the Blaine County Citizens," Daugherty wrote in the letter. "I feel the best course of action now is to remove these officers from the equation until the District Attorney's Office and city leaders decide what the best outcome will be."

In a July 29 press release, the City of Watonga said it was aware of Sexton's complaint and that the chief of police had requested the OSBI to investigate. It declined to comment until the completion of that investigation.

"As part of our commitment to integrity, we take any allegations seriously and are committed to transparency and accountability in our operations," the press release states. "Until the investigation is complete, and while following state law related to personnel matters, we will refrain from providing additional comments to preserve the integrity of the process."

Meanwhile, Sexton told local news outlets that his son was heavily traumatized by the event.

"He's been a cop for Halloween for the last two years," Sexton told KOCO News. "That's what he's been wanting to be when he grows up. That's what he says, and now he's scared of them."

The post Oklahoma Cops Under Investigation for Slamming Innocent Dad to the Ground for 'Suspicious' Walk With Son appeared first on Reason.com.

In Spartanburg County, South Carolina, on Interstate 85, police officers stop vehicles for traveling in the left lane while not actively passing, touching the white fog line, or following too closely. This annual crackdown is called Operation Rolling Thunder, and the police demand perfection.

Any infraction, no matter how minor, can lead to a roadside interrogation and warrantless search. However, a 21-month fight for transparency shows participating agencies play loose with South Carolina's Freedom of Information Act (FOIA), which requires the government to perform its business in an "open and public manner."

Motorists must follow state laws with exactness. But the people in charge of enforcement give themselves a pass.

Deny, Deny, Deny

The drawn-out FOIA dispute started on October 11, 2022, less than one week after a five-day blitz that produced nearly $1 million in cash seizures. Our public-interest law firm, the Institute for Justice, requested access to incident reports for all 144 vehicle searches that occurred during the joint operation involving 11 agencies: The Cherokee, Florence, Greenville, and Spartanburg County sheriff's offices; the Duncan, Gaffney, and Wellford police departments; the South Carolina Highway Patrol, Law Enforcement Division, and State Transport Police; and the U.S. Department of Homeland Security.

Our intent was simple. We wanted to check for constitutional violations, which can multiply in the rush to pull over and search as many vehicles as possible within a set time frame. South Carolina agencies have conducted the operation every year since 2006, yet no one has ever done a systematic audit.

Rather than comply with its FOIA obligation, Spartanburg County denied our request without citing any provision in the law. We tried again and then recruited the help of South Carolina resident and attorney Adrianne Turner, who filed a third request in 2023.

It took a lawsuit to finally pry the records loose. Turner filed the special action with outside representation.

Key Findings

The incident reports, released in batches from March through July 2024, show why Spartanburg County was eager to prevent anyone from obtaining them.

• Over 72 percent of vehicle searches during Operation Rolling Thunder in 2022 produced nothing illegal. Officers routinely treated innocent drivers like criminals.
• Carrying any amount of cash is legal, but officers treated currency as contraband. The records describe no single case in which officers found a large amount of cash and did not seize it. All money was presumed dirty.
• Officers pressured property owners to sign roadside abandonment forms, giving up claims to their cash on the spot.
• South Carolina residents mostly got a pass. Officers focused on vehicles with out-of-state plates, rental cars, and commercial buses. Over 83 percent of the criminal suspects identified during warrantless searches lived out of state. Nearly half were from Georgia.
• Black travelers were especially vulnerable. Nearly 74 percent of the suspects identified and 75 percent of the people arrested were black. This is more than triple the South Carolina black population of 25 percent.

Working in the Shadows

While these records shine a light on police conduct, still more secrets remain.

By policy, the Spartanburg County Sheriff's Office and partner agencies do not create incident reports for every search. They only document their "wins" when they find cash or contraband. They do not document their "losses" when they come up empty.

Thanks to this policy, Spartanburg County has no records for 102 of the 144 searches that occurred during Operation Rolling Thunder in 2022. Nowhere do officers describe how they gained probable cause to enter the vehicles where nothing was found. The police open and close investigations and then act like the searches never happened.

This leaves government watchdogs in the dark—by design. They cannot inspect public records that do not exist. Victims cannot cite them in litigation. And police supervisors cannot review them when evaluating job performance.

Even if body camera video exists, there is no paper trail. This lack of recordkeeping undercuts the intent of FOIA. Agencies dodge accountability by simply not summarizing their embarrassing or potentially unconstitutional conduct.

The rigged system is rife with abuse. Available records show that officers routinely order drivers to exit their vehicles and sit in the front seat of a patrol car. If people show signs of "labored breathing," "nervousness," or being "visibly shaken," the police count this toward probable cause.

Officers overlook that anxiety is normal when trapped in a police cruiser without permission to leave. Even people who value their Fourth Amendment right to be "secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures" can break under pressure and consent to a search.

If travelers refuse, officers can bring K9 units to the scene for open-air sniffs. Having no drugs in the vehicle does not always help. False positives occurred during Operation Rolling Thunder, but the lack of recordkeeping makes a complete audit impossible.

Intimidation, harassment, and misjudgment are easily hidden. The police tell travelers: "If you have nothing to hide, you should let us search." But when the roles are reversed and the public asks questions, agencies suddenly want to remain silent.

The post Operation Rolling Thunder: The Shocking Truth Behind Spartanburg's Traffic Stops appeared first on Reason.com.

After black-clad demonstrators protested Donald Trump's inauguration in an "Anti-Capitalist/Anti-Fascist Bloc" march on January 20, 2017, federal prosecutors in Washington, D.C., charged more than 200 of them with rioting. While 21 defendants pleaded guilty, all of the other cases ended in acquittals, mistrials, or charges dismissed with prejudice. One reason for that fiasco, according to recently filed disciplinary charges, was the discovery that the federal prosecutor who oversaw the cases persistently withheld exculpatory evidence and repeatedly lied about it to judges and defense attorneys.

In a "specification of charges" filed with the D.C. Court of Appeals Board of Professional Responsibility last month, Disciplinary Counsel Hamilton P. Fox III alleges that Jennifer Kerkhoff Muyskens, who is now a federal prosecutor in Utah but previously worked at the U.S. Attorney's Office for the District of Columbia, violated six rules of professional conduct while trying to convict "DisruptJ20" protesters, including many who had not participated in vandalism or violence. Muyskens "knew that most defendants did not commit violent acts themselves," Fox notes, but "she argued that these defendants were still liable for felony rioting and felony property destruction because they joined a criminal conspiracy to use the protest march to further the violence and destruction that occurred."

To support that theory, Muyskens presented video of a DisruptJ20 planning meeting that had been clandestinely recorded by an "operative" from Project Veritas, a conservative group that frequently has been accused of using misleadingly edited videos to portray progressive and leftist organizations in a negative light. Although Muyskens "understood Project Veritas had a reputation for editing videos in a misleading way," Fox says, she initially concealed the source of the video, saying in court that "who provided it is irrelevant." And although Muyskens "knew that Project Veritas had omitted and edited some of its videos" before releasing them, Fox adds, she "did not request or obtain Project Veritas's missing videos or unedited footage."

According to Fox, Muyskens and Metropolitan Police Department (MPD) Detective Greggory Pemberton edited the meeting footage in ways that bolstered the prosecution's case, and Muyskens covered up the extent of those edits. Fox says Muyskens also withheld Project Veritas videos of other DisruptJ20 meetings that would have been helpful to the defense, pretending that they did not exist. And she allegedly concealed the fact that Pemberton, in testimony to a grand jury, had erroneously identified one of the DisruptJ20 defendants as a woman who appears in the video of the planning meeting.

According to the Supreme Court's 1963 ruling in Brady v. Maryland, due process requires prosecutors to share potentially exculpatory evidence with the defense. Fox says Muyskens violated that rule by excising footage and withholding videos that could have been useful in rebutting the prosecution's case.

The material that Muyskens and Pemberton excised from the planning meeting video included footage that would have revealed its provenance. They also cut footage of a phone call in which a Project Veritas infiltrator told a colleague, "I don't think they know anything about the upper echelon stuff."

The excised footage "revealed that the video was filmed as part of Project Veritas's infiltration of DisruptJ20, which tended to undermine the credibility and reliability of the government's evidence," Fox writes. "In addition, the operative's post-meeting report indicated that some DisruptJ20 protest organizers did not know anything about plans or decisions that were being made by an 'upper echelon.' This lack of knowledge supported the non-violent defendants' theory that, assuming a plan to riot existed at all, only a small group was involved, which they knew nothing about. Alternatively, if the operative was discussing protest organizers being unaware of Project Veritas's 'upper echelon' plans, the statements supported…claims that Project Veritas conspired to frame DisruptJ20 defendants for third-party violence, including by possibly inciting violence themselves. Both judges who later considered the issue…found that the complete, unedited footage was exculpatory."

The videos that Muyskens withheld included evidence that, contrary to the prosecution's narrative, the DisruptJ20 protest was supposed to be peaceful. Those videos "were exculpatory," Fox explains, "because they showed that DisruptJ20 planning meetings consistently involved training and instructing protesters how to participate in its unpermitted 'Actions,' including the anti-capitalist march, as non-violent protests, using nonviolence and de-escalation techniques, which supported the non-violent defendants' claim that their intent was merely to peacefully protest."

The undisclosed videos also "showed Project Veritas operatives discussing their infiltration operation of DisruptJ20, which supported the defense's theory that Project Veritas conspired to blame DisruptJ20 for others' misconduct," Fox notes. "For example, the undisclosed videos showed Project Veritas operatives discussing—before the Inauguration protests—how they were providing information on DisruptJ20 to the FBI, how there was likely to be violence from 'outside influencers,' and how DisruptJ20 would 'catch the blame' for outsiders' misconduct because the FBI was 'going to say' that they incited it."

In court, Fox says, Muyskens "falsely said that the government had made only two edits, which were both to redact the identity of the videographer and an undercover officer," and "that, other than the two redactions, the defense had the same videos as the government." She "falsely told the court that she had provided defense counsel with 'the full entirety of those videos from that day.'"

According to Fox, "Pemberton testified falsely that Project Veritas had produced only the four disclosed video segments of the [planning meeting video]" and that "the only editing the government did was to combine the first three video segments into one exhibit to be played at trial." Muyskens and Pemberton "did not disclose how they had edited the original videos they received from Project Veritas," and they did not "disclose that they had omitted from discovery many other videos Project Veritas videos of DisruptJ20's planning meetings."

Muyskens told a judge that Project Veritas had "provided unedited video" at Pemberton's request and that "we posted the video" to the discovery portal. Those statements, Fox says, "were false and misleading." Muyskens also "falsely said that other than redacting the identities of the Project Veritas operative and [the undercover officer], 'the defense has the exact video we have.'" The judge "later found that [Muyskens] 'left a clear impression' that she had disclosed everything that Project Veritas had produced."

Muyskens told another judge that "the government had 'provided the clips as we have them'" and that "'the only editing' by the government 'was to combine the three clips' of the anti-capitalist 'breakout' into a single video exhibit for trial." Those statements also "were false and misleading," Fox says.

Muyskens eventually "acknowledged that the government had additional, undisclosed Project Veritas videos of DisruptJ20's planning meetings." But she "mischaracterized them and falsely suggested that they were irrelevant."

During the investigation of her conduct, Fox says, Muyskens "repeated her false statements and material omissions" regarding the video edits, the withheld videos, her suppression of "relevant information and evidence," her failure to produce grand jury transcripts from the misidentified defendant's case, her "misrepresentations and omissions to the grand jury, the defense, and the court," and her failure to "correct known misrepresentations to the court." She also "made additional false statements and material omissions to falsely explain her conduct." She claimed, for example, that the undisclosed videos "were irrelevant and did not discuss the anti-capitalist march."

Fox says Muyskens' actions violated the District of Columbia's Rules of Professional Conduct in half a dozen ways:

1. She allegedly violated Rule 3.3(a) by "knowingly making false statements, offering false evidence, and failing to correct material false statements to the court."

2. She allegedly violated three sections of Rule 3.4 by "obstructing the defense's access to evidence and altering or concealing evidence, or assisting another person to do so when she reasonably should have known that the evidence was or may have been subject to discovery; knowingly disobeying the court's direct orders to produce information in the government's possession without openly asserting that no valid obligation existed; and/or failing to make reasonably diligent efforts to comply with the defense's discovery requests."

3. She allegedly violated two sections of Rule 3.8 by "intentionally avoiding pursuit of evidence and information because it may have damaged the prosecution's case or aided the defense; and by intentionally failing to disclose to the defense, upon request and at a time when use by the defense was reasonably feasible, evidence and information that she knew or reasonably should have known tended to negate the guilt of the accused or mitigate the offense."

4. She allegedly violated Rule 8.4(a) by "knowingly assisting or inducing another to violate the Rules of Professional Conduct and/or doing so through the acts of another."

5. She allegedly violated Rule 8.4(c) by "engaging in conduct that involved reckless or intentional dishonesty, misrepresentations, deceit, and fraud, which misled the grand jury, the defense, the court, the government, and disciplinary authorities about the
evidence in the government's possession and the government's conduct."

6. She allegedly violated Rule 8.4(d) by "engaging in conduct that seriously interfered with the administration of justice."

Possible sanctions against Muyskens range from "temporary suspension of her law license to full disbarment," Washington City Paper notes. The Washington Post reports that lawyers for Muyskens did not respond to requests for comment and that "Pemberton also did not respond to an inquiry." The U.S. attorney's offices in D.C. and Utah "declined to comment." So did the MPD, which "would not say whether the department has opened an investigation of Pemberton, who now chairs the police labor union."

The failed prosecutions and the disciplinary charges against Muyskens are not the only embarrassments stemming from the Inauguration Day march. In 2021, the Post notes, "the D.C. government agreed to pay $1.6 million to settle two lawsuits" by protesters who argued that the police response to the DisruptJ20 march violated their First Amendment rights.

"It speaks volumes that the District has chosen to settle rather than defend MPD's obviously unconstitutional actions in court," Jeffrey Light, one of the protesters' attorneys, said when the settlement was announced. Scott Michelman, legal director at the American Civil Liberties Union of the District of Columbia, added that "MPD's unconstitutional guilt-by-association policing and excessive force, including the use of chemical weapons, not only injured our clients physically but also chilled their speech and the speech of countless others who wished to exercise their First Amendment rights but feared an unwarranted assault by D.C. police."

The post Prosecutor of Anti-Trump Protesters Allegedly Withheld Exculpatory Evidence and Lied About It appeared first on Reason.com.

Democrats in Congress have reintroduced a bill that would revive the ability to sue federal law enforcement officers for constitutional violations like excessive force, following a series of Supreme Court decisions that have made it practically impossible to do so.

Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse (D–R.I.) and Reps. Hank Johnson (D–Ga.) and Jamie Raskin (D–Md.) reintroduced the Bivens Act in the Senate and House, respectively, this week. The legislation would amend the Civil Rights Act of 1871—a federal statute that allows people to sue the government for civil rights violations—to include federal officials acting under the color of law, as well as state and local officials.

"Public officials at all levels of government, including law enforcement, should have a clear, fair standard of accountability when they break the law," Whitehouse said in a press release. "Our Bivens Act would end the confusing judicial precedent that for too long has prevented victims from holding federal officials accountable and securing compensation for constitutional violations."

In 1971, the Supreme Court ruled in Bivens v. Six Unknown Named Agents of Federal Bureau of Narcotics that federal agents may be sued when they violate someone's rights. But subsequent Supreme Court rulings over the years have steadily narrowed the scope of so-called Bivens claims to the point where it's a dead letter.

In the most recent case, Egbert v. Boule, the Supreme Court ruled in 2022 that a bed-and-breakfast owner could not sue a Border Patrol agent who had allegedly assaulted him and then retaliated after he complained. Reason's Damon Root summarized the case: 

At issue were the actions of a border patrol agent who sought to question one of the guests at a Washington state bed-and-breakfast about the guest's immigration status. When owner Robert Boule told the agent, Erik Egbert, to leave his property, Egbert allegedly assaulted Boule. Then, when Boule complained about the alleged assault to the agent's superiors, Egbert allegedly retaliated by asking the IRS to investigate Boule, who was audited.

The Court ruled 6–3 that Boule could not bring a claim against Egbert for excessive force or First Amendment retaliation. 

That same term, the Court declined to hear petitions involving cases where a St. Paul police officer invented a fake sex-trafficking ring and jailed a teenage girl for two years on trumped-up charges and where a Department of Homeland Security agent allegedly tried to kill a man because of an argument involving his son.

As Reason's Billy Binion wrote at the time, "A federal badge will now serve as an impenetrable shield against civil liability for violating the same laws agents are charged with upholding."

That's not just the opinion of some whacky libertarians either. Federal Judge Don Willett complained in a 2021 opinion that the Supreme Court has gutted Bivens to the extent that "if you wear a federal badge, you can inflict excessive force on someone with little fear of liability."

The Bivens Act is supported by numerous civil rights and watchdog groups, including the American Civil Liberties Union, the Drug Policy Alliance, and the Project on Government Oversight.

The post New Bill Would Revive the Right To Sue Federal Cops for Constitutional Violations appeared first on Reason.com.

Jamey Noel, former Clark County, Indiana, sheriff and Republican Party chairman, is facing 25 felony counts relating to claims that he used jail employees for personal work and that he used credit cards from a volunteer fire department he headed and money from the jail commissary to make personal purchases, among other allegations. A state audit found more than $900,000 worth of "questionable" or "unsupported" purchases.

The post Brickbat: There for the Taking appeared first on Reason.com.

Last November, federal prosecutors invited Ilene Wahpeta, an incarcerated woman, to give a victim impact statement at the sentencing of Andrew Jones, a Bureau of Prisons (BOP) employee who was convicted of sexually assaulting three other inmates.

Less than a year later, the U.S. government is fighting a petition Wahpeta filed for early release based on the same allegations that prosecutors previously invited her to speak about, arguing she wasn't a named victim in the criminal case against Jones and that her claims aren't credible.

The Justice Department announced in 2022, amid several damning investigations into sexual assault by staff in federal prisons, that it was working to expand a program for early release to include women who'd been abused behind bars, but Wahpeta's case is one example of what criminal justice advocates say is the Justice Department undercutting that policy. Lawyers representing incarcerated women filing for early release based on their status as sexual assault survivors say federal prosecutors are now routinely fighting to disqualify their clients because of an unreasonably narrow definition.

At the heart of the issue is a new policy passed in April 2023 by the U.S. Sentencing Commission that makes federal inmates who were sexually abused by staff eligible for compassionate release. Compassionate release is a policy that allows federal inmates to petition for early release for "extraordinary and compelling" reasons, such as terminal illness or family emergencies. However, the expansion included a major caveat that was added at the recommendation of the Justice Department. To be eligible, a prisoner's claim of sexual abuse "must be established by a conviction in a criminal case, a finding or admission of liability in a civil case, or a finding in an administrative proceeding."

Families Against Mandatory Minimums (FAMM), a criminal justice advocacy group, has been coordinating legal representation for women who were formerly incarcerated at Federal Correctional Institution (FCI) Dublin, a federal women's prison in California that was infested with so much corruption, sexual abuse, and whistleblower retaliation that the BOP shut it down earlier this year. 

Shanna Rifkin, the deputy general counsel at FAMM, says they have secured releases for 17 women out of the 25 cases they've taken on. But Rifkin says government opposition has increased significantly since the new policy statement took effect.

"Before November 1, 2023, when this policy statement went into effect, in almost every single case the government was agreeing or not opposing the compassionate release motion," Rifkin says. "Since then, there has been a lot more resistance to compassionate release motions based on sexual abuse."

The Justice Department argued that requiring a finding of guilt would set a clear standard for judges. It wrote in a public comment on the Sentencing Commission's proposed changes that "permitting compassionate release hearings only after the completion of other administrative or legal proceedings will help ensure that allegations are more fairly adjudicated, prevent mini-trials on allegations, and reduce interference with pending investigations and prosecutions."

However, Rifkin says this undercuts one of the major reforms in the FIRST STEP Act of 2018. That act changed compassionate release to allow inmates to directly petition federal judges, significantly reducing the BOP's power to stonewall and delay petitions.

"It effectively puts the Department of Justice back in the driver's seat," Rifkin says of the new policy statement, "because who drives a criminal case? The Department of Justice. Victims of abuse have no say over when a case against their abuser will be brought, if it will be brought, and who will be charged as the victims in the case."

And while a finding of guilt may sound like a reasonable standard, it is a surprisingly difficult one to meet in cases of sexual assault perpetrated by government employees.

According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, from 2016 to 2018, perpetrators of staff sexual misconduct were only convicted, sentenced, fined, or pleaded guilty in 6 percent of substantiated incidents in federal and state prisons.

Reason detailed last year how a cadre of corrupt guards at a federal minimum security camp in Florida was allowed to prey on women for years without oversight. Those guards eventually admitted under oath to internal affairs investigators that they had assaulted incarcerated women, yet most were allowed to retire and none was ever prosecuted.

Over the past year, the Justice Department has ramped up scrutiny of prisons and prosecutions of corrupt BOP employees, but even with more vigilant oversight, criminal cases do not move quickly through the court system, especially if the defendant goes to trial. Rifkin cited one pending case against a former FCI Dublin correctional officer who has been charged with assaulting three women. He was indicted in May 2023, but his trial isn't scheduled until 2025.

"So women who are survivors of his abuse ostensibly have to wait until the government has concluded their case in order to have a cognizable claim under this policy statement," Rifkin explains.

As for civil suits against government employees, they routinely take years to resolve, and settlements often stipulate that they do not constitute admissions of guilt by the defendants.

The difference between how petitions have been handled before and after the new standard was enacted is stark. Take the case of Aimee Chavira, a former inmate at FCI Dublin who says she was abused by five correctional officers and continued to suffer retaliation after she was transferred out of the prison.

When Chavira filed her compassionate release petition, only one of those officers had been indicted, and another committed suicide while under investigation. Nevertheless, the U.S. Attorney's Office for the Southern District of California filed a motion of nonopposition in response to her petition. Chavira was released in May of last year.

Contrast that with Wahpeta's case, where prosecutors have not only tried to apply the adjudication requirement but also attacked her credibility.

In a court filing opposing Wahpeta's petition, prosecutors note that Wahpeta never gave her victim impact statement because of objections from Jones' attorney and concerns that her story was insufficiently corroborated. The government also puts significance on the facts that she initially refused to cooperate with FBI investigators and denied being abused; that she didn't mention being abused in letters to her family she wrote while in solitary confinement; that she contemplated getting a lawyer; and that her descriptions of abuse were remarkably similar to the narratives of the named victims in the criminal case against Jones.

"Even when writing to her parents, her main concern was getting out of confinement early, not reporting what she had seen," federal prosecutors argue. "Also, defendant never mentions being a victim of abuse, but rather that she witnessed the abuse."

But this behavior is all too common in cases of sexual abuse in prison. Incarcerated victims of sexual assault often initially refuse to cooperate with investigators out of fear of retaliation from correctional officers, who remain in total control of their lives. Indeed, Wahpeta was put in solitary confinement while Jones was under investigation, and she remained there for more than two months before Jones was removed from the prison. Besides embarrassment or any other number of personal reasons, survivors are also often vague in communications with family because correctional officers can read their letters and emails.

Bay Area news outlet KTVU has interviewed dozens of women over the past two years about sexual abuse and retaliation inside FCI Dublin, and a lawsuit on behalf of multiple incarcerated FCI Dublin women described the repression inside the prison in detail: "Survivors who report sexual abuse are verbally threatened, physically assaulted, sent to solitary confinement, given false disciplinary tickets, have their cells tossed and property destroyed, have their mail (including legal mail) interfered with, strip searched, and transferred to other BOP institutions away from their families—and are even targeted for further sexual abuse."

In a sentencing memorandum filed in Jones' case, prosecutors were keenly aware of how retaliation works inside federal prisons. "To enforce the silence that was so critical to the perpetuation of his predation, Jones created an environment of intimidation, fear, and reprisal," prosecutors wrote. "It wasn't just words. Jones also enforced silence and obedience through violence and threats of violence."

Yet, now federal prosecutors take Wahpeta's silence as a mark against her.

"DOJ has already decided whether Ms. Wahpeta is lying. And it decided she isn't," Wahpeta's attorney wrote in a response. "It decided she isn't when the U.S. Attorney's Office for the Northern District of California invited her to read a victim impact statement at Officer Andrew Jones's sentencing hearing. If the government believed that Ms. Wahpeta was lying, it would have had a duty to tell the Court. It did not do so. In fact, until its response here, at no point during the duration of Ms. Wahpeta's cooperation with the government has the government questioned what happened to Ms. Wahpeta to either her or her counsel. Nor could it. Because it's true."

The Justice Department did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

The post Advocates Say the Justice Department Is Failing To Provide Relief to Women Who Were Abused in Prison appeared first on Reason.com.

A group of Burlington, Vermont, high school students were touring a local police department as part of a forensics class this week. In the middle of a presentation from a detective, the unthinkable happened: a masked gunman burst into the room and seemed to open fire.

The students were terrified. One says she dove on the ground, hurting her knee. Another says she reached for her phone to text her mother.

But soon, the students realized that they weren't actually being shot at. Instead, they were the victims of a bizarre "demonstration" from the local police.

According to Seven Days, a Vermont independent newspaper, the students had no idea that the presentation would involve a mock shooting. Students were watching a detective speak at the front of a room when they heard screams. Two women ran in, followed by a man wearing a ski mask, who—it seemed—began firing.

"I'm shaking and crying because I'm like, 'Oh my god, I'm gonna get shot,'" one student told Seven Days. "It felt so real."

The students eventually realized that the shooting was fake after police officers in the room failed to do anything to stop the apparent gunman.

While performing a fake mass shooting with high schoolers was obviously a terrible idea, it's unclear whether high school staff also share some blame for needlessly terrifying the students. 

The teachers told Seven Days that, while they knew officers would possibly demonstrate a "gunshot-related crime," they had no idea they wouldn't be warned first. However, in an email obtained by Seven Days, "teachers said officers told them that they'd previously used the lesson with college students and adults, and that they wanted the event to be 'as realistic as possible.'"

In a statement, police claimed that school staff had agreed to the content of the demonstration and that it would include "fake firearms in a mock shooting." 

"Do you think that sort of incident would be ok for your group of students?" police asked school employees on May 23. "It is about as real life as you can get, and is certainly exactly the sort of thing we deal with most frequently."

"I think these students will be fine with this simulation," school employees replied, according to a statement from police. "We will give a heads up to parents and students."

No matter how you slice it, there's not much educational utility to having a fake gunman commit a "mock shooting" in a room full of unaware high school students. However, it's far from the first time that police have gone overboard with educational demonstrations like this. In 2019, police in Indiana shot elementary school teachers with airsoft guns during an active shooter training drill. Those teachers filed a lawsuit.

The post Vermont Cops Terrorize High School Students With 'Mock Shooting' appeared first on Reason.com.

Louisiana Gov. Jeff Landry last week signed a law that criminalizes approaching police officers within 25 feet, provided that the officer tells any would-be approachers to stand back, effectively creating a legal force field that law enforcement can activate at their discretion.

"No person shall knowingly or intentionally approach within twenty-five feet of a peace officer who is lawfully engaged in the execution of his official duties after the peace officer has ordered the person to stop approaching or to retreat," the law states. Offenders could receive a $500 fine and be jailed for up to 60 days.

The bill was authored by state Reps. Bryan Fontenot (R–Thibodaux), Michael T. Johnson (R–Pineville), and Roger Wilder (R–Denham Springs). Fontenot argued that the legislation would give law enforcement officials "peace of mind" as they carry out their duties. That's the same argument Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis made to justify signing Senate Bill 184 in April, which criminalizes approaching within 25 feet of a first responder with the intent to threaten, harass, or interfere with the official.

But some opponents of these laws believe they are overly broad and unnecessary.

"Requiring a 25-foot distance from a police officer may not be a practical or effective approach in many situations," state Rep. Delisha Boyd (D–New Orleans) tells Reason. "Policing situations vary widely, and a blanket requirement for a 25-foot distance may not account for the diverse scenarios officers encounter. Who on the scene will determine what exactly is 25 feet away? What happens if within that 25 feet is on my personal property?"

Louisiana already has a law outlawing "interfering with a law enforcement investigation." Critics of the new law say that an additional law proscribing the simple act of approaching police is superfluous.

One such critic is Meghan Garvey, the legislative chair and former president of the Louisiana Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers. Police work "is already protected from interference by current law," she tells Reason. "The measure criminalizes citizens for engaging in constitutionally protected activity and discourages citizen oversight of law enforcement."

The law, "like many other bills brought this session, seeks to make Louisianans more subservient to government," Garvey concludes.

The Louisiana Legislature passed a similar bill, House Bill 85, in June 2023, but that measure was vetoed by former Gov. John Bel Edwards. "The effect of this bill were it to become law would be to chill exercise of First Amendment rights and prevent bystanders from observing and recording police action," Edwards said in a statement explaining his veto.

Though the Supreme Court has declined to address the issue, there is significant legal precedent in the circuit courts—including in the 5th Circuit, which contains Louisiana—that the First Amendment's press and speech clauses collectively safeguard a "right to record the police." Last year, a federal judge struck down an Arizona measure that outlawed filming police from within 8 feet after receiving a verbal warning because it "prohibits or chills a substantial amount of First Amendment protected activity and is unnecessary to prevent interference with police officers given other Arizona laws in effect."

In Louisiana, "an officer could be arresting someone in a manner indicating excessive force, have a bystander approach to record the arrest, and the bystander could then be immediately told by the officer 'to stop approaching or to retreat,' chilling the bystander's right to record," Louisiana attorney Philip Adams tells Reason. "Thus, the bystander could be placed in a position in which the First Amendment right to record could be functionally neutered." 

The post Louisiana's New 25-Foot Legal Forcefield for Police Threatens Accountability and Civil Liberties appeared first on Reason.com.

In a frank discussion about the "current state of player behaviour" in Valorant, Riot Games' head Anna Donlon has outlined upcoming changes designed "to make our community a better place".

Though Donlon acknowledges that the development team had no plans to "sanitise gaming" or suppress harmless banter, she said players should not be expected to "grow a thicker skin" when playing video games.

"There's no room in our community for the most egregious behaviours, and we're not going to compromise on that point," she said.

Read more

Sylvia Gonzalez, a former Castle Hills, Texas, city council member, plausibly alleges that she was arrested on a trumped-up charge in retaliation for conduct protected by the First Amendment. So does Priscilla Villarreal, an independent journalist in Laredo, Texas. But in backing up that claim, Gonzalez, whose case will soon be decided by the Supreme Court, faces a problem that Villarreal does not: It is hard to say how often people engage in the conduct that police cited to justify her arrest, which involved putting a petition in her personal folder during a city council meeting. Villarreal, by contrast, was arrested for asking questions, something that journalists across the country do every day.

Last January, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit nevertheless ruled, in an opinion by Judge Edith Jones that provoked four sharp dissents authored or joined by seven of her colleagues, that Villarreal's arrest was not "obviously unconstitutional." Thirteen briefs supporting Villarreal's petition for Supreme Court review—submitted by an ideologically diverse mix of groups and individuals, including organizations ranging from the Manhattan Institute to the Constitutional Accountability Center—underline the chilling implications of that astonishing conclusion.

"No right is more fundamental to the practice of journalism than the one the Fifth Circuit declined to recognize: the right to ask public officials for information," a brief submitted by the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press and 21 news organizations notes. They urge the Supreme Court to resolve the "chilling uncertainty" created by the appeals court's decision and "reaffirm the fundamental proposition that '[a] free press cannot be made to rely solely upon the sufferance of government to supply it with information.'"

Villarreal, who is represented by the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression, is asking the Supreme Court to uphold that principle, which her arrest blatantly violated. Her alleged crime, the Institute for Justice notes, consisted of "peacefully asking a police officer to corroborate information for two developing stories—a routine due-diligence and newsgathering practice used by journalists across the country." The two stories, which Villarreal posted on her locally popular Facebook page, involved a public suicide and a fatal car crash. Villarreal asked a Laredo police officer to confirm information about those incidents that Villarreal had received from other sources. By doing that, police and prosecutors claimed, Villarreal committed two felonies.

To justify those charges, police cited Section 39.06(c) of the Texas Penal Code, an obscure, rarely invoked law that applies to someone who "solicits or receives from a public servant" information that "has not been made public" with the "intent to obtain a benefit." The claim that Villarreal had violated that law was absurd for several reasons.

First, Section 39.06(c), which deals with "misuse of official information," is part of a chapter addressing "abuse of office." Its roots go back to a 1973 law that applied to "a public servant" who "acquires or aids another to acquire a pecuniary interest in any property, transaction, or enterprise that may be affected by" information that "has not been made public" but to which "he has access in his official capacity." The statute also covered "a public servant" who "speculates or aids another to speculate on the basis of the information." Over the years, legislators broadened the definition of the offense, reclassified it as a felony, and expanded the law beyond government officials. But in light of its history and statutory context, Section 39.06(c) is clearly aimed at curtailing official corruption, not journalism.

Second, the Texas Penal Code defines "benefit" as "anything reasonably regarded as economic gain or advantage." What "economic gain or advantage" did Villarreal allegedly seek to obtain by asking a cop about a suicide and an accident? According to the arrest affidavits, it was an increase in her Facebook traffic. Jones' opinion, which drips with contempt for Villarreal's "journalistic style," notes that she "boasts over one hundred thousand Facebook followers and a well-cultivated reputation, which has engendered publicity in the New York Times, free meals 'from appreciative readers,' 'fees for promoting a local business,' and 'donations for new equipment necessary to her citizen journalism efforts.'" This sweeping definition of "benefit" would apply to any journalist who attracts readers and/or earns money by publishing information that previously "has not been made public."

Third, Section 39.06 defines "information that has not been made public" as "any information to which the public does not generally have access" that is also "prohibited from disclosure" under the Texas Public Information Act (TPIA). The arrest affidavits did not address the latter requirement at all. The 5th Circuit suggested the information that Villarreal obtained was covered by Section 552.108(a)(1) of the TPIA, which says government officials do not have to disclose information when doing so might compromise an ongoing investigation. While law enforcement agencies frequently invoke that vague provision, the information it covers is not "prohibited from disclosure." The TPIA explicitly gives agencies the discretion to release information even when they are not required to do so.

The MuckRock Foundation, which "has helped thousands of journalists, professionals, and ordinary citizens request, share, and understand public records," notes that Laredo's reading of Section 39.06(c) would lead to "the absurd result of imposing liability not only on those who seek 'confidential' information, but on those who request information that the government may, but need not, make public." Under that interpretation, anyone who asks for information that is deemed to be covered by a TPIA exception is committing a felony. As a brief from half a dozen journalists (including me) explains, Texas agencies that don't want to disclose information frequently seek support from the state attorney general's office, which in 2015 "issued over 7,000 rulings based on § 552.108(a)(1) alone." Yet the thousands of people whose TPIA requests are rejected each year have never been "arrested or prosecuted for their requests."

Laredo cops investigated Villarreal for months, so they had plenty of time to consider whether their interpretation of Section 39.06(c) was reasonable. So did the prosecutors who signed off on the case. Yet they did not even bother to present a plausible argument that Villarreal's conduct met the elements of this offense, and they were unfazed by the obvious First Amendment problems with criminalizing basic journalism. The charges were ultimately dismissed by a judge who deemed Section 39.06(c) unconstitutionally vague.

These cops and prosecutors—who, like Jones, were irked by Villarreal's "journalistic style"—were determined to pin charges on her without regard to statutory requirements or constitutional constraints. Yet according to the 5th Circuit, they cannot be held accountable for their vindictive lawlessness because it was not "clearly established" that arresting a journalist for practicing journalism was unconstitutional. Since they supposedly had no way of knowing that, they received qualified immunity.

The Supreme Court grafted qualified immunity onto 42 USC 1983, a federal law that authorizes people to sue government officials who violate their constitutional rights. The doctrine is supposedly designed to protect officials from unanticipated liability for "split-second" decisions in situations where they have little opportunity for careful reflection. That rationale, the Americans for Prosperity Foundation notes, does not apply to the sort of "intentional and slow-moving infringement of First Amendment rights" that Villarreal's case exemplifies. The protections offered by Section 1983, the brief says, "come to nothing where state actors may purposefully infringe First Amendment rights and then rely on prolix state law to trigger qualified immunity, claiming they did not know any better."

In this case, that claim is risible. "Villarreal's arrest obviously violated the Constitution," the Institute for Justice notes. "No reasonable government official would think the First Amendment permits criminalizing plain speech or routine journalism."

Contrary to what the 5th Circuit held, the Young America's Foundation and the Manhattan Institute say, it has been "clearly established for over 50 years" that "journalists and citizens" have a First Amendment right to "ask questions of their government officials." The Supreme Court has upheld that right in a line of decisions beginning with Branzburg v. Hayes in 1972. In that case, the Court rejected the idea that "news gathering does not qualify for First Amendment protection," without which "freedom of the press could be eviscerated."

Seven years later in Smith v. Daily Mail, the Court ruled that West Virginia violated the First Amendment when it prohibited newspapers from publishing the names of juvenile offenders without judicial permission. The justices held that the First Amendment protects "routine newspaper reporting techniques" and that the government may not "punish the truthful publication" of "lawfully obtained" information. As dissenting 5th Circuit Judge James E. Graves Jr. noted, the Supreme Court "has made clear that the First Amendment protects the publication of information obtained via 'routine newspaper reporting techniques'—which include asking for the name of a crime victim from government workers not clearly authorized to share such information."

These longstanding precedents are not the only reason the cops who arrested Villarreal should have known better. As the brief I joined points out, police officers across the country are accustomed to fielding questions from reporters, and department policies frequently encourage them to "work in cooperation with the media," as a general order to Washington, D.C., officers puts it. "Based on the TPIA, police department regulations, officer training on responding to press inquiries, and personal experience dealing with reporters," the brief says, "a reasonable officer would know that journalists are permitted to ask police officers the names of accident and suicide victims. A reasonable officer would know that reporters ask for such information every day."

You might think that Villarreal's arrest, which relied on a quirky reading of a little-used law, poses little realistic threat to journalists in Texas or elsewhere. But the briefs supporting Villarreal emphasize that police can always find an excuse to arrest journalists who annoy them. The brief I joined describes a couple of examples: the 2023 arrest of NewsNation reporter Evan Lambert for "trespassing" by covering a governor's press conference in Ohio and the 2020 arrest of radio reporter Josie Huang for "obstructing a peace officer" by using her phone to record an encounter between protesters and Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies.

"Retaliatory arrests have become an increasingly common occurrence," the Law Enforcement Action Partnership (LEAP) notes. "This trend is a byproduct of the ever-growing size of modern criminal codes." Thanks to those proliferating prohibitions, Justice Neil Gorsuch has observed, "almost anyone can be arrested for something." A cop "who may be inclined to punish a disfavored speaker—such as a journalist, as here—can therefore readily find a minor offense they committed and use that to justify an arrest," LEAP says. If police are emboldened to harass journalists this way, it warns, retaliatory arrests will become even more common.

That threat is especially acute for reporters who do not have the backing of a professional news outlet. Independent journalists Avi Adelman and Steven Monacelli, who "have been arrested or detained by police officers while reporting on law enforcement's public performance of their duties," note that increasingly strict police control of information may force a reporter to rely on the sort of "backchannel source" that Jones condemned Villarreal for using. "If using alternative sources exposes journalists to the risk of official retribution," Adelman and Monacelli warn, "journalists will become little more than conduits for government public relations copy."

Jones dismissed the idea that Villarreal is "a martyr for the sake of journalism." She seems to think independent reporters like Villarreal don't qualify as "real" journalists because they don't follow the rules that "mainstream, legitimate media outlets" do. In addition to criticizing Villarreal's use of a "backchannel source," a standard journalistic practice, Jones faulted her for "capitaliz[ing] on others' tragedies to propel her reputation and career," which is an apt, if cynical, description of what professional reporters routinely do. These criticisms make you wonder if Jones has ever watched the local news or noticed that "mainstream, legitimate media outlets" often carry stories that cite anonymous government sources.

Contrary to Jones' take, the critics who are urging the Supreme Court to overrule the decision she wrote include "mainstream, legitimate media outlets" such as ABC, NBC, The Atlantic, The Boston Globe, The New York Times, and The Washington Post. It is possible they know a little bit more about how journalism works than Jones does.

The post These Strange Bedfellows Want SCOTUS To Remind the 5th Circuit That Journalism Is Not a Crime appeared first on Reason.com.

A man has filed a lawsuit against the town of Sturgeon, Missouri, a little more than a week after a police officer shot and killed his small, blind, and deaf dog.

In a federal lawsuit filed in the U.S. District Court for the Western District of Missouri, Nicholas Hunter alleges that Officer Myron Woodson and the city of Sturgeon violated his Fourth Amendment rights when Woodson killed Teddy, his 13-pound blind and deaf Shih Tzu, shortly after finding the dog wandering in a neighbor's yard on May 19.

"Woodson's warrantless seizure of Teddy was unnecessary, callous, and egregious as it was unwarranted by law and violative of Plaintiff Hunter's most fundamental and guaranteed of constitutional rights," Hunter's lawsuit says. "At no time during the encounter between Teddy and Defendant Woodson did Teddy show any aggression towards Defendant Woodson. Teddy never barked, growled, or even moved towards Defendant Woodson. Instead, the small, blind and deaf dog simply kept trying to walk away, oblivious to the danger that Defendant Woodson posed to him."

The shooting has outraged the town's residents, especially after body camera footage obtained by a local news outlet contradicted the officer and city officials' narrative of events. The mayor of Sturgeon resigned last Saturday evening after defending the shooting for several days, and Woodson has been placed on leave.

The shooting, though, is only an egregious example of a phenomenon that is so common that it has its own tag on Reason's website: "puppycide." No one knows exactly how many dogs police shoot around the country, but every year there are more cases of wanton killings that, besides terrorizing owners, generate huge lawsuits, viral outrage, and in rare instances result in officers being fired, such as the case of an Arkansas officer who casually killed a nine-pound dog.

The incident in Sturgeon started when Teddy dug under Hunter's backyard fence while Hunter was out at dinner and escaped, leaving its collar behind in the process. A neighbor called a county dispatch center to report that the dog had wandered into their yard and to get help finding its owner. According to Hunter's lawsuit, the caller responded, "No, not at all," when asked if the dog was aggressive.

The town of Sturgeon's official Facebook page actually posted an alert on May 19 about the missing dog, along with photos of Teddy: "Do you know this doggie? Joint communications has been notified. The doggie seems in need of medical attention."

Medical attention was not what the doggie received. Woodson arrived on the scene, and a few minutes later he shot Teddy twice.

In the meantime, Hunter had been called and told about the Facebook post. He was on his way to pick up Teddy, but arrived too late.

A day later, the city of Sturgeon posted on Facebook about the incident, defending Woodson's decision: "Based on the behavior exhibited by the dog, believing the dog to be severely injured or infected with rabies, and as the officer feared being bitten and being infected with rabies, the SPD officer felt that his only option was to put the animal down," Sturgeon wrote. "It was later learned that the animal's behavior was because the animal was blind. Unfortunately, the animal's lack of a collar or tags influenced the SPD Officer's decision to put the animal down due to his belief that the animal was injured, sick and abandoned."

Both Hunter and the neighbor filed complaints with the city. "I cannot stress enough that this animal was in no way a threat to others," the neighbor, whose complaint was obtained by local news outlet ABC 17, wrote. "Woodson discharged his firearm multiple times in a residential area without a threat presenting itself, without warning."

ABC 17 also obtained Woodson's body camera footage, which showed that Teddy was never aggressive and didn't bark or growl. Woodson tried to lasso Teddy with a catch pole—a common tool used in animal control—but the dog simply shook its head free of the rope and trotted away. After fumbling the catch pole several times, Woodson drew his gun and killed Teddy. ABC 17 reported that Woodson's entire encounter with Teddy, from exiting his car to putting two bullets in the animal, lasted three minutes and six seconds.

After body camera footage was released, Sturgeon doubled down.

"The City believes that the officer acted within his authority based on the information available to him at the time to protect against possible injury to citizens from what appeared to be an injured, sick, and abandoned dog," Sturgeon posted in a follow-up Facebook post.

Of course, it would have been embarrassing to admit the real reason that the officer resorted to using his gun: He was unable to snare a blind, deaf dog and was too poorly trained to come up with a solution besides shooting a harmless animal.

But police habitually lie about the behavior of dogs that they shoot. Dogs are almost always described in incident reports as snarling, aggressive, or lunging, and because department policies typically allow police to shoot dogs when they feel afraid for their safety, these shootings are almost always deemed justified.

For example, last year in Missouri a police officer shot a family's dog and dumped it in a ditch. Similar to Hunter's case, the dog had gotten loose during a storm, and a neighbor called to report it missing. In another case last year, Detroit cops killed a woman's dog and dumped its body in a trash can. An Arkansas woman also filed a lawsuit after a cop accidentally shot her while trying to kill her Pomeranian—a toy breed that resembles a Koosh ball with legs.

This is the sort of behavior that's flagged as sociopathic when committed by anyone who's not represented by a police union.

And it's the sort of behavior that can cost a small town like Sturgeon quite a lot of money, as city officials are surely fretting now. After Sturgeon's mayor resigned last Friday, the acting mayor posted on Sturgeon's Facebook account: "Like you we were just as appalled by what we saw. The actions of the Officer involved are not the values and beliefs of the residents of Sturgeon or the board of Alderman. Currently I have made calls to the Boone County Sheriff to meet and discuss an investigation."

The city of Sturgeon did not immediately respond to a request for comment.

The post A Missouri Police Officer Shot a Blind and Deaf Dog. Now He's Being Sued. 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.

Former vice cop Andrew Mitchell has been sentenced to 11 years in prison after pleading guilty late last year to two counts of deprivation of rights under color of law and one count of tampering. Mitchell, who was employed for many years as a police officer in Columbus, Ohio, is accused of picking up sex workers and sexually assaulting them.

This week, a federal judge sentenced him to the maximum prison sentence recommended by prosecutors, plus a fine of $300 and five years of supervised release.

It's something, at least.

But his victims will receive no restitution payment. And last year, Mitchell walked on much more serious charges involving the killing of Donna Castleberry.

Castleberry's Death

Mitchell fatally shot the 23-year-old while she was trapped in his unmarked police car. He later claimed he killed Castleberry in self-defense after she stabbed him in the hand.

"Donna entered the front passenger door of Mitchell's vehicle and sat in the passenger seat next to Mitchell," according to a civil complaint against Mitchell filed by Castleberry's sister. "Mitchell than [sic] drove her to secluded location at or near South Yale Avenue, Columbus, Ohio in an alley and parked his vehicle in a manner which would prevent Donna from exiting the vehicle."

The Franklin County Coroner's Office called the death a homicide, and a grand jury indicted Mitchell on homicide and involuntary manslaughter charges. But a jury couldn't reach a verdict in the first trial, leading a Franklin County Common Pleas Court judge to declare a mistrial. And a jury returned a verdict of not guilty in the second trial, despite the multiple holes in Mitchell's story.

Mitchell also faced a civil lawsuit from a Jane Doe who alleged that in 2017, Mitchell told her he would arrest her for outstanding warrants but also said "give that pretty ass up and you won't go to jail." According to Doe's complaint, Mitchell handcuffed her to the backseat of the car and then raped her, then picked her up and did it again the following year. In 2022, the plaintiff in the Jane Doe case dismissed the case and it's not clear why. It's also unclear whether this Jane Doe is one of the women Mitchell is accused of detaining in the federal case.

The Federal Case

In 2019, federal prosecutors accused Mitchell of picking up sex workers on false pretenses and then trapping them in his car and sexually assaulting them. He was charged with nine criminal counts, including multiple counts of deprivation of rights under color of law and multiple counts of tampering with a witness, victim, or informant.

Mitchell told one victim "he was a police officer and acted as if he were doing a check for any outstanding warrants on the victim," then "used this ruse to handcuff the victim to the doorknob of his vehicle," according to a press release from the U.S. Attorney's Office last December. "He drove the victim to a nearby parking lot with multiple dumpsters and forcible [sic] held and detained the victim against her will before dropping her off at her boyfriend's residence." Mitchell picked up another victim and "began discussing the victim's rates for sexual activity before announcing that he was an officer with the vice unit and said she was going to jail," according to prosecutors. "Mitchell kidnapped the victim and drove her to Lindbergh Park, holding her against her will."

That's the activity to which Mitchell pleaded guilty, along with removing and destroying potential evidence from a rental apartment he owned. (Specifically, he disposed of and bleached potential evidence "so the FBI could not gather evidence if they came to search it," per his pleas.)

But this isn't the whole story.

Prosecutors initially accused him of sexually assaulting the two women he picked up, and though this was not mentioned as part of the announcement of Mitchell's plea, prosecutors explain why in a sentencing report.

Mitchell's lawyers "objected to all references to sexual assault…within the presentence report as the negotiated plea agreement and accompanying Statement of Facts did not stipulate to the occurrence of any sexual activity," notes the government's sentencing memorandum. "The plea agreement was the result of significant negotiation in the face of a potentially very difficult trial for both sides. While both victims have been cooperative with law enforcement and indicated a willingness to testify, they both also indicated a strong preference for this case to be resolved short of trial. This dilemma led to this resolution and the need for a factual determination of this issue to be done at sentencing."

Nonetheless, "the evidence supports a finding that sexual assaults occurred," the government stated. "While Mitchell continues to deny any sexual involvement with these women, there is no explanation for [his] admitted behavior" of handcuffing one victim to a doorknob or taking one victim to a secluded park and detaining her there unless "more was going on than just Mitchell abusing the powers of his badge to only detain someone. "Further, significant evidence corroborated the testimony of the victims that Mitchell took advantage of the depravation of their liberty to further assault and sexually victimize them."

More Victims? 

Castleberry and the two victims in the federal case are almost certainly not the only women that Mitchell preyed on.  "Mitchell intimidated and hindered at least three other additional victims from communicating with law enforcement and the ongoing grand jury looking into his illegal conduct," the government alleges in its sentencing report.

Prosecutors also note the vulnerability sex workers face when a cop is their assailant.

"Mitchell purposely targeted [sex workers] in the belief that their complaints of assault and sexual compromise would not be believed by law enforcement suspected of being too aligned with one of their own," the government claims.

"Throughout the FBI investigation, female interviewees explained their doubts and hesitation in reporting Mitchell due to fears of retaliation and being disbelieved. Mitchell routinely used this dynamic to his advantage as both a police officer (and a landlord) in seeking sexual conquest and control while ignoring the law he was sworn to uphold."

Columbus Vice

"Andrew Mitchell betrayed his oath, the values of the Columbus Division of Police and the trust of our community. He used his position to target and exploit some of the most vulnerable in our community. We hope the close of this dark, painful chapter brings some measure of peace to everyone he wronged," the Columbus Division of Police said in a statement last December.

Mitchell isn't the only member of the Columbus Division of Police to have faced misconduct allegations in recent years, though the accusations against him were by far the most serious.

Members of the vice unit improperly arrested Stormy Daniels in 2018.

Two of the cops involved in Daniels' arrest—Steven G. Rosser and Whitney R. Lancaster—were arrested on federal criminal charges unrelated to the Daniels case but also involving strip clubs. Lancaster was acquitted at trial but Rosser was found guilty of conspiracy against rights. Rosser was sentenced to 18 months in federal prison.

Columbus police temporarily disbanded the vice squad in 2019 and had the FBI's public corruption task force look into it.

Police replaced the vice squad with something called the Police and Community Together (PACT) Unit, which was meant to be more transparent and accountable. The PACT page on the city of Columbus website now says "page not found."

These days, "prostitution arrests are made by uniformed PACT officers in marked cruisers," reported Columbus Monthly. "'PACT also has a policy to not trap or block women in their vehicles. If an individual wants out of the vehicle, they let them out,'" former Deputy Police Chief Jennifer Knight told the publication.

The post Cop Who Dodged Sentence for Killing Sex Worker Gets 11 Years for Abducting More Sex Workers 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.

In December 2022, Reason reported that both state and federal wildlife agents routinely trespass onto private land and plant cameras. Two Tennessee homeowners successfully sued the state over the practice, and a three-judge panel ruled in their favor. The state appealed the decision, and this week the court of appeals ruled in the homeowners' favor.

At issue is a state law allowing officers of the Tennessee Wildlife Resource Agency (TWRA) to "go upon any property, outside of buildings, posted or otherwise," in order to "enforce all laws relating to wildlife." In the case of Terry Rainwaters and Hunter Hollingsworth, TWRA officers not only entered their respective properties but also installed trail cameras to look for hunting violations, all without a warrant and ignoring "No Trespassing" signs. A lawsuit filed by the Institute for Justice (I.J.) on behalf of Rainwaters and Hollingsworth asked the court to declare the law unconstitutional and issue an injunction against the TWRA, barring it from carrying out any further unwarranted intrusions.

Under the "open-fields doctrine," Supreme Court precedent dating back to Prohibition holds that undeveloped land on someone's property lacks the same rigorous Fourth Amendment protections as their home and the "curtilage," the area immediately surrounding the home.

In March 2022, a three-judge panel from the Benton County Circuit Court ruled in the homeowners' favor, finding that the state constitution provided more protections than the Fourth Amendment. It determined that the state law allowing the TWRA practice created an "intolerable risk" of abuse and was "facially unconstitutional," but it stopped short of issuing an injunction. The state appealed the decision the following month.

In a hearing before the Tennessee Court of Appeals Western Section on June 20, 2023, I.J. attorney Josh Windham argued that the state law is unconstitutionally broad. "It allows TWRA officers to enter and roam around private land, fishing for evidence of crime," Windham said. "It doesn't require consent. It doesn't require warrants. It doesn't require probable cause….It's a blank check for officers to invade private land whenever and however they please."

Amanda Jordan argued for the Tennessee Attorney General's office that the statute was not unconstitutional and that the policy was necessary for the TWRA to do its job. She argued that "it's the particular purpose and function of the TWRA which makes such warrantless entry reasonable."

Judge Jeffrey Usman asked Jordan why, if the state would need a warrant in order to enter someone's property to look for criminal violations, it should not also need a warrant to do the same for civil violations of hunting laws. Jordan agreed that "while normal law enforcement officers would not be able to enter" without a warrant, "you have to look at the state's interest in furthering its duty of protecting and preserving" Tennessee's wildlife.

But Usman pressed further, asking whether the state has "an even stronger interest in protecting persons than wildlife." Further, he asked, "If you can't enter to investigate a crime being committed against a person…why is the interest greater to enter to protect wildlife?"

In a decision issued Thursday, the court of appeals ruled in favor of the property owners. The TWRA claimed that the homeowners' claims of injury were "speculative" as "TWRA agents have not entered the Plaintiffs' lands since September 2018." The court disagreed: Writing for a unanimous court, Usman noted in the decision,

Even if the TWRA has not entered the Plaintiffs' properties since 2018, it continues to assert its power to do so. The TWRA has asserted a continuing right to enter upon the Plaintiffs' properties. At oral argument, the TWRA suggested that if the Plaintiffs want to keep the TWRA off of their land in the future that they should desist in hunting.

"At the most foundational level," the court determined, "the statute is facially constitutional because there are applications of the statute that are constitutionally permissible," including "wild waste land areas." But in this specific scenario, where wildlife agents planted cameras on homeowners' land without ever even pursuing a warrant, the court found the TWRA's actions unconstitutional as applied.

"The TWRA's contention is a disturbing assertion of power on behalf of the government that stands contrary to the foundations of the search protections against arbitrary governmental intrusions in the American legal tradition, generally, and in Tennessee, specifically," Usman wrote. "What the TWRA claims is reasonable is not."

"Our entire theory of the case was vindicated by this decision," Windham tells Reason. "The part that goes against the trial court ruling [says] that the statute can be constitutionally applied to land where people haven't taken any steps to exert control or exert their privacy, which is a rule we don't particularly object to."

The post Tennessee Appeals Court Rules Against Wildlife Agents Who Planted Cameras on Private Land appeared first on Reason.com.

On May 10, 1924, one of the worst events in history for American civil liberties happened: 29-year-old J. Edgar Hoover assumed the role of director of the then-Bureau of Investigation. Ambitious, power-hungry, and conniving, Hoover epitomized the snake in the proverbial garden. Under his watch, which lasted until his death in 1972, the FBI emerged as an alarming adversary to constitutional freedoms. 

Starting his career at the Justice Department in 1917 at only 22 years old, Hoover quickly ascended the ranks, often at the expense of Americans' civil liberties. By 1919, he headed the Justice Department's Radical Division, charged with destroying the supposed communist infiltration of America. Hoover's lifelong disdain for communists was matched only by his disregard for their constitutional rights, making this role a perfect fit for his ambitions. 

Hoover Cuts His Unconstitutional Teeth

As head of the Radical Division, Hoover began developing the dirty tricks he would become known for, relying on tactics fundamentally at odds with a free society. For example, he started compiling the secret files that made him infamous and feared by the political elite. "What Hoover accomplished during his first months at the Radical Division forever changed the nature of American politics," writes Beverly Gage in G-Man: J. Edgar Hoover and the Making of the American Century, "launching an unprecedented experiment in peacetime political surveillance."

Under Hoover's leadership and fueled by the Espionage Act of 1917, federal agents aggressively pursued radicals—communists, socialists, and anarchists—tapping their phone lines and intercepting their mail. Hoover amassed more power, and at the tender age of 24, according to Tim Weiner in Enemies: A History of the FBI, Hoover "could call for the arrest of almost anyone he chose."

In April 1919, a coordinated anarchist campaign of mail bombs targeted prominent Americans, including Hoover's boss, Attorney General A. Mitchell Palmer. Though none of the bombs met their intended targets, the first Red Scare was on. 

Hoover answered by organizing what became known as the Palmer Raids, with the initial raid in November 1919 leading to the mass arrests of nearly 1,200 suspected radicals—far more people than Hoover secured warrants for. Many rotted in city and county jails for months, and nearly 200 were deported under the Anarchist Exclusion Act of 1918.

But it was Hoover's encore the following January that epitomized what would become his lasting legacy: utter disregard for constitutionally protected rights. Beginning at 9 p.m. on January 2, 1920, Hoover led the largest mass arrests in American history. The raids continued into the week, and thousands were detained indiscriminately, many without warrants or just cause. 

According to Weiner in Enemies, "somewhere between 6,000 and 10,000 people were swept up in the raids." However, he notes that we will likely never know the exact number as "no official accounting ever took place."

Rather than landing Hoover behind bars or at least ending his career, he evaded accountability and mastered the art of bureaucratic survival that protected him through eight presidential administrations. Before long, he was rewarded. On May 10, 1924, Attorney General Harlan Fiske Stone named Hoover acting director of the Bureau of Investigation. Stone was a believer in civil liberties, notably, and told Hoover he was on probation and that the Bureau was out of the secret police game. 

But Hoover would have the last laugh. Soon after, he revived his domestic intelligence operations and unconstitutional ways, often operating beyond public and political accountability scrutiny.

Friends in High Places

Presidential administrations throughout the 20th century—likely fearing Hoover and his secret files—left him unchecked and either actively supported or tacitly approved of his methods. Presidents from Franklin Delano Roosevelt to Richard Nixon found Hoover's capabilities useful for their political agendas, thus embedding a culture of surveillance and political manipulation that Hoover masterfully orchestrated. 

"He wasn't acting on his own," writes FBI Special Agent Paul Letersky in The Director: My Years Assisting J. Edgar Hoover. "Since before World War II, every president he'd served—those revered by the left and those revered by the right—knew what Hoover and the Bureau were doing in domestic security and surveillance." 

During the run-up to World War II, FDR turned Hoover loose, empowering the FBI director to return to gathering intelligence on American fascists and communists. Hoover revived secret warrantless wiretapping only two years after Congress banned it in the Communications Act of 1934. 

With war breaking out in Europe, Hoover's worries about internal subversion grew. On December 6, 1939, Hoover issued his agents a secret (read: unauthorized) order named "Internal Security." The agents were to begin compiling a list of "dangerous" people—not just immigrants but also American citizens—to be detained when the war came to American shores. 

The list was known as the Custodial Detention Program. It categorized people into three groups (A, B, and C), with people in Group A considered to be the most dangerous—if war broke out, they would be arrested and detained immediately. One conspicuous name in Group A was Roger Baldwin, one of the founders of the American Civil Liberties Union and its current chief. 

Attorney General Francis Biddle learned about the Custodial Detention Program in 1943 and ordered it shuttered. Hoover simply renamed it the Security Index. It would remain secret until after Hoover's death, growing to include well over 20,000 names, almost all Americans. 

But no matter how many laws or norms Hoover broke, he continued atop his powerful perch at the FBI. President Harry Truman didn't like Hoover. In the words of his Treasury Secretary John Snyder, Truman believed "Mr. Hoover had built up a Frankenstein in the FBI." 

John F. Kennedy—like his brother, Attorney General Robert Kennedy—wanted to send Hoover packing. Bobby Kennedy said Hoover was "frightening" and called the FBI "a very dangerous organization." But JFK ultimately concluded, "You don't fire God."

Hoover, if nothing else, was a survivor.

Seeing Red Again

Perhaps the most infamous example of Hoover's brazen attacks on American civil liberties was the Counterintelligence Program (COINTELPRO). Initiated in 1956, COINTELPRO's operations were characterized by illegal surveillance, organizational infiltration, and police harassment. With this tool in place, Hoover shifted his concentration to a new enemy: the civil rights movement and its leader, Martin Luther King Jr.

Hoover believed the Soviets—not black Americans fed up with segregation and racial injustice—were behind the civil rights movement. He also believed King was a Moscow stooge, which landed him on the Security Index.

The FBI's disdain for the civil rights movement was so visceral that agents would tip off police in Alabama about the plans of the Freedom Riders, a contingent of black and white demonstrators protesting Jim Crow laws. Freedom Riders were often met with overwhelming violence by both police and the Ku Klux Klan, who had also thoroughly infiltrated the Alabama police. 

In arguably the FBI's most infamous COINTELPRO operation, agents bugged MLK's hotel rooms as he traveled. The preacher had his own dark side. The bugs would frequently pick up the sounds of sex after late-night parties. In an effort to destroy King for good in November 1964, Hoover's intelligence chief sent the sex tapes to King's wife with a letter that gave him an ultimatum—suicide or disgrace. Its conclusion read:

King, there is only one thing left for you to do. You know what it is. You have just 34 days in which to do…You are done. There is but one way out for you. You better take it before your filthy, abnormal fraudulent self is bared to the nation.

It would take the rifle of James Earl Ray to do what the FBI couldn't—end King's life.

Hoover's corruption extended into his personal realm, too. He maintained a luxurious lifestyle, heavily subsidized by the FBI's budget and, therefore, the American taxpayer. "The Bureau provided with him chauffeurs, handymen, gardeners, valets, and the tax accountants who sorted out the honoraria he received, totaling tens of thousands of dollars, from corporate grandees," explains Weiner in Enemies. "The gifts, given for ghostwritten speeches and articles, and as private awards for public service, supplemented the freely spent tax dollars that financed Hoover's four-star style." 

On May 2, 1972, Hoover's heart gave out in his sleep. While this ended his reign of terror, Hoover's methods and the culture he cultivated within the FBI have left a lasting imprint on American law enforcement and intelligence practices. Libertarians often describe government as a form of organized crime. Hoover's godfather-like dominion over the FBI makes that comparison harder to dismiss. 

A Man of Zeal

In his dissent in Olmstead v. U.S., which coincidentally legalized government wiretapping for a short time, Justice Louis Brandeis wrote: "The greatest dangers to liberty lie in insidious encroachments by men of zeal, well-meaning but without understanding."

And therein lies the danger of men like Hoover. To give the devil his due, Hoover most certainly believed plunging his hands into the latrine was necessary to defend the country he loved from those he thought would destroy it. As Letersky writes in The Director, Hoover was "a man who in his sincere belief that he was protecting his country had repeatedly violated the principles of the Constitution on which the country was founded." 

The 100th anniversary of Hoover's rise to power should serve as a reminder that the FBI—and the national security state it exemplifies—remains a dagger pointed at the heart of American civil liberties. All the Bureau needs to break bad again is another man "of zeal, well-meaning but without understanding" to return to Hoover's dirty tricks. 

There is no greater domestic threat to American freedom than a secret police. Hoover proved that for five decades until the devil called him home. May his ghost never wander the FBI's halls.

The post An American Gangster at 100: J. Edgar Hoover's Authoritarian Legacy 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.

In December 2022, the Albuquerque Police Department (APD) received a tip that officers assigned to the APD's DWI unit were getting paid to make cases disappear. The tipster specifically mentioned Honorio Alba, one of several officers who would later resign amid a burgeoning corruption scandal featuring that very allegation. Yet an internal investigation found no evidence to substantiate the tip.

That episode, recently revealed by City Desk ABQ, helps explain why evidence of longstanding corruption within the DWI unit did not come to light until the FBI began looking into it. "We're dealing with stuff that we anticipate started decades ago, and we've done a lot of things that have got us to this point," Albuquerque Police Chief Harold Medina said at a press conference in February. "But we will continue to dig and look and leave no stone unturned and make sure that we get to the bottom of this."

It seems like the department left plenty of stones unturned when it had a chance to clean its own house before the feds stepped in. Instead of telling the FBI about the alleged corruption, the APD apparently did not take the situation seriously until after it heard from the FBI.

In October 2023, 10 months after the APD's Criminal Intelligence Unit launched its fruitless probe, the FBI informed Medina that it was investigating the DWI unit. The following month, Albuquerque's Civilian Police Oversight Agency received a letter from a local court official who said Alba reportedly had pulled over a speeding, flagrantly drunk driver and, instead of filing charges, referred him to a specific local defense attorney.

The FBI investigation became public knowledge after agents executed search warrants at that attorney's office and the homes of several officers in January 2024. Local news outlets began looking into DWI cases that had been handled by Alba and his colleagues. They found suspiciously low conviction rates that somehow had eluded the APD's investigators in 2022.

In response to the corruption allegations, the Bernalillo County District Attorney's Office dropped some 200 DWI cases, saying it could not rely on the testimony of the cops who had made the arrests. KOB, the NBC affiliate in Albuquerque, reported that Alba, who was honored as "Officer of the Year" by the New Mexico chapter of Mothers Against Drunk Driving last July, was the arresting officer in many of those cases.

KRQE, the local CBS affiliate, looked at DWI cases filed during the previous six years. It found that Joshua Montaño, a 19-year veteran, "was named as the officer in at least 36 cases" in which the defendants were represented by Thomas Clear, the lawyer whose office the FBI had searched. Nearly 90 percent of those cases "ended in dismissals."

City Desk ABQ examined "85 DWI cases dating back to 2017" involving Clear and Alba, Montaño, or two other members of the DWI unit, Harvey Johnson and Nelson Ortiz. It found that 14 percent of the cases ended with trial convictions or plea deals, which was "much lower than the Metro Court average of 56% convictions in DWI cases over the same years." The other 86 percent were dismissed, typically because officers did not show up at pretrial interviews or hearings. The "vast majority" of the defendants were arrested by Alba or Montaño.

Why didn't the APD discover any of this back in 2022? Acting Sgt. Jon O'Guin "started gathering information but—after looking through officer activity—didn't turn up any evidence," City Desk ABQ reports, citing a five-page "intel file" that it obtained through a public records request.

According to the tipster, APD spokesman Gilbert Gallegos told City Desk ABQ, three bars in Northeast Albuquerque were alerting police to intoxicated patrons so they could be nabbed after they drove away. "They were targeting individuals, who then could get their cases dismissed," Gallegos said, describing the tip. "So they would arrest and charge them and then get their cases dismissed and there would be some sort of payment for that."

In response to that tip, City Desk ABQ says, O'Guin examined "the activity of the seven officers who were on the DWI unit at that time, including Alba, Johnson and Montaño." But his investigation apparently was limited to the specific allegation, as opposed to the general claim that officers were helping arrestees avoid charges in exchange for payoffs.

In December 2022, the officers' activity "did not show any obvious indicators that would match the allegations of the information received for the initial complaint in regards to increased activity in the areas of the three locations mentioned in NE Albuquerque," O'Guin wrote in the intel file. "All officers' CAD [computer-aided dispatch] activity showed what would appear to be normal traffic stops and requests for assistance responses across the city." The same was true, he said, for October and November.

That summary of O'Guin's investigation is dated January 2024, by which point the FBI had collected enough evidence to obtain search warrants. "When the allegations were relayed from the FBI, the detective was asked to update the file with documentation of the work that was initially done," Gallegos explained. "So that part of the report was dated January 2024, when he provided that information."

Given the timing, O'Guin's gloss may have been deliberately self-exculpating. In any case, he evidently never thought to look at what was generally happening with the DWI cases that Alba et al. handled. If he had, he would have discovered the same curious pattern that reporters found after the FBI raids. Those high dismissal rates reinforce the allegation that these officers, after stopping drivers for DWI, would "get their cases dismissed" in exchange for "some sort of payment."

No corruption charges have been filed yet. But Alba, Montaño, Johnson, Ortiz, and Lt. Justin Hunt all resigned after they were placed on administrative leave pending the outcome of another internal investigation, this one prompted by the FBI probe and the letter to the Civilian Police Oversight Agency. On Tuesday, APD spokesman Daren DeAguero, a 15-year veteran who served in the DWI unit from 2014 to 2018, joined the line of exiting officers.

DeAguero resigned the same day he was scheduled to be interviewed by internal investigators. "Due to the current situation of receiving a letter of investigation with very little time to obtain adequate representation," he wrote in a memo to Medina, "I unfortunately will be ending my employment [with] the Albuquerque Police Department effective April 30, 2024."

Montaño was more expansive when he resigned on March 20. "When I was put on administrative leave, I thought there would be an opportunity for me to talk to the department about what I knew regarding the FBI's investigation," he wrote. "I thought there would be a time [when] I could disclose what I knew from within APD and how the issues I let myself get caught up in within the DWI Unit were generational. I thought there would be a time where I could talk about all the other people who should be on administrative leave as well, but aren't."

Montaño said he ultimately decided against cooperating with APD investigators. "In order for me to talk to the City about what I knew," he wrote, "I needed to not be the City's scapegoat for its own failures." He complained that Medina "has made it seem like there are just a few bad officers acting on their own." That is "far from the truth," Montaño said.

Among other things, the FBI reportedly is investigating claims that officers deliberately missed court dates, resulting in the dismissal of DWI cases. But according to Montaño, "officers all know that our attendance, or non-attendance, at Court is watched over and monitored." While "I take responsibility for my actions," he said, the responsibility for the alleged misconduct extends up the chain of command and more than a few years back in time—probably "decades," according to Medina himself.

"There is a much bigger story here," Montaño's lawyer, Thomas Grover, told City Desk ABQ. "If Officer Montaño is a cinder block in this saga, there's a whole wall to address. It goes outward and upward."

The post A Year Before Albuquerque's Police Corruption Scandal Made Headlines, an Internal Probe Found Nothing appeared first on Reason.com.

Police and sheriff's departments across Florida spent thousands of dollars sending officers to training conferences that have been banned in nine other states after being accused of promoting unconstitutional tactics and glorifying violence.

Reason obtained invoices through public records requests showing that a dozen of Florida's largest law enforcement agencies spent $31,377 on training seminars hosted by Street Cop Training, a New Jersey-based company, between 2020 and 2023.

The company has been under intense scrutiny since the New Jersey Office of the State Comptroller issued a scathing report in December detailing a 2021 Street Cop Training conference in Atlantic City where instructors made discriminatory and unprofessional remarks. At the conference, one instructor flashed a picture of a monkey when talking about an elderly black man, and the founder of the company said that refusing to consent to a police search was justification for prolonging an investigation. Since then, New Jersey has ordered retraining for all officers who attended Street Cop conferences, and the company has declared bankruptcy.

The Florida invoices shed light on Street Cop's foothold in one of the most populous states. Despite the turbulent times for the company, it is soldiering on in the Sunshine State. As Florida Today's John Torres noted in a recent op-ed, Orlando is hosting the 2024 Street Cop Conference this week.

Not only that, but Brevard County Sheriff Wayne Ivey is a speaker at the conference.

Torres noted with disdain that taxpayers were footing the bill to send officers to these conferences.

"Locally, at least one Melbourne officer is attending the training with the department paying for it," Torres wrote. "Palm Bay and Cocoa have none and the Brevard County Sheriff's Department did not respond to my inquiry about how many deputies were attending. The Florida Department of Law Enforcement could not tell me how many officers were attending."

It would probably not surprise Torres to learn that the Brevard County Sheriff's Office spent the most out of any agency that has so far responded to Reason's records requests. Street Cop invoices to the agency total $7,825 between 2020 and 2023.

The next biggest spender was the Osceola County Sheriff's Office with $7,085, followed by the Seminole County Sheriff's Department at $6,604.

Six Florida Highway Patrol officers attended Street Cop training seminars during that time period, according to records.

To compile this report, Reason filed 28 public records requests to the largest police departments and sheriff's offices in Florida. Nine agencies said they had no responsive records. Seven requests are still pending, including from populous jurisdictions such as Broward and Orange County.

Street Cop Training was founded in 2012 by Dennis Benigno, a former New Jersey police officer. It runs training conferences for thousands of police officers around the country, but flew under the radar until New Jersey Comptroller Kevin Walsh's December report. The report documented dozens upon dozens of lewd and discriminatory remarks by instructors and comments glorifying violence.

More concerning than the constant middle-school jokes about penis size, though, were the substance of the presentations. For example, Benigno and other instructors at the Atlantic City conference insisted that refusing to consent to a search of one's vehicle—a constitutional right under the Fourth Amendment—was suspicious and should be used as justification for prolonging a search or detention.

The comptroller investigation found that there was "an entire section of Benigno's training during the Conference dedicated to an 'I Do Not Consent Game,' during which Benigno shows a montage of people refusing consent in an attempt to illustrate that a motorist's refusal to consent is a suspicious factor that justifies further prolonging an investigative detention."

The comptroller's office found that multiple instructors told officers to use a "reasonable suspicion" checklist to decide whether to find a reason to pull someone over or extend a traffic stop. The checklist included a long list of vague and contradictory behavior, including the driver not looking at a police car when passing, looking too long at a police car when passing, wearing a hat, removing a hat when an officer approaches, looking back at their vehicle, leaning against their vehicle, smoking, stretching or yawning, and licking their lips.

"Because none of these factors are more consistent with guilt than innocence, a stop based on a combination of those factors alone—without some additional factor that suggests criminality—would be unconstitutional," the New Jersey Comptroller's Office concluded.

Benigno also mocked people who record the police during traffic stops, saying that person was about to "get pepper sprayed, fucking tased, windows broken out, motherfucker." Recording the police is a First Amendment right.

One Street Cop instructor in Louisiana livestreamed himself shooting at a fleeing vehicle and later bragged about it at the Atlantic City conference. "Run from me, somewhere along the chase becomes, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow, pow," he said. The deputy has since been charged with illegal discharge of a firearm and obstruction of justice.

The report found that at least New Jersey spent at least $75,000 in public funds sending officers to the Atlantic City conference.

Benigno said in the wake of the report that he was tightening professional standards for the conferences and making other changes, but he denied that the company promoted unconstitutional tactics.

In a lengthy statement to Florida news outlet WESH last week, Benigno said in part: "The context of the Fourth Amendment training at the October conference and the implications that the training was unconstitutional is completely baseless. Officers in attendance have already completed police academy and understand the context in which the training is provided."

Not all of the public records identify which seminars officers attended, but at least some of them involved traffic stops and interdiction. One officer from the Tallahassee Police Department attended a 2021 Street Cop Training class titled "identifying criminal vehicles and occupants," and a Duval County Sheriff's deputy attended "interdiction mastermind."

The Volusia Sheriff's Office paid for five deputies to attend seminars that included "unmasking facial expressions" and "body language for law enforcement."

The ability to reliably detect lies or guilt by reading facial expressions and body language has never been replicated in controlled studies. It's pseudo-science, but it has nevertheless remained popular among law enforcement because it gives officers a wide-ranging and often contradictory list of cues to confirm their suspicions. (Walsh's report also notes that "some other controversial factors [on the checklist] are observing 'micro-expressions' as taught through free online videos and assessing 'blink rate.'")

The controversy over Street Cop Training has led some Florida sheriff's offices to distance themselves from the company.

A spokesperson for the Seminole County Sheriff's Office says none of its members will be presenting or attending this year. The Volusia County Sheriff also told local media that he wouldn't be sending deputies to the conference.

Meanwhile, Brevard County Sheriff Wayne Ivey remains a staunch defender of the company.

"This is all a bunch of crap," Ivey said of Walsh's report. 

Ivey was a paid consultant at a Street Cop conference last year in Nashville.

The post Florida Police Departments Spent Thousands on Training Seminars Banned in 9 States appeared first on Reason.com.

In 2021, Whittier, California, police arrested Victor Manuel Martinez Wario on an outstanding warrant related to a 2012 child molestation conviction. The only problem? Police had arrested the wrong person. However, despite Wario frequently telling police he didn't have any warrants out for his arrest, they didn't bother to check—leaving Wario imprisoned for five days. 

Now, Wario is suing, claiming that police negligence amounted to a violation of his Fourth Amendment rights against unreasonable search and seizure. The officer's actions caused Wario to suffer "emotional and mental trauma," according to the suit. "He also missed time at work, and was unable to provide care to his disabled fiancée."

In March 2021, Wario was pulled over by several Whittier police officers for a minor traffic violation. During the stop, police mistakenly found that he had an active warrant out for his arrest. Even though Wario denied that he had any active warrants, he was still arrested and booked into a nearby jail.

According to the lawsuit, during the booking process, police told Wario that the warrant originated from Wario's failure to register as a sex offender and "check in with the probation department" after a 2012 conviction for child molestation. Wario again "adamantly told them that they had the wrong person," the complaint reads. But, again, no one decided to double-check that the police had arrested the correct person.

Two days later, Wario was transferred to another jail. This time, "he was assigned special housing for custodies with child molestation cases, given a specially colored jumpsuit indicating his status as a sex offender, and a wristband was placed on his wrist also showing that his case involved child molestation," the suit reads. "Because of his perceived status as a convicted child molester, Mr. Wario was in serious jeopardy of being attacked by fellow inmates."

That day, he was taken to be arraigned. During a brief discussion with his attorney, he again insisted that he was the wrong person. However, when the attorney relayed this to Judge Mary Lou Villar, she set a $30,000 bail and refused to release Wario.  

"She ordered a fingerprints expert to appear in court the following week to take his fingerprints and verify his identity," the suit reads. 

However, the following day, someone finally took basic measures to check Wario's claims. According to the suit, "the Deputy District Attorney assigned to the case obtained the booking photo of the actual defendant in the case and determined that it was not Mr. Wario."

It took another day for Wario to be released—five days after his arrest.

On Tuesday, Wario filed a lawsuit against the Whittier Police Department, claiming that his false arrest was a violation of his Fourth Amendment rights, arguing that police had no reasonable basis for arresting and jailing him.

"No reasonable conclusion could be drawn that such an arrest and confinement was reasonable," his suit reads. "No objective facts readily available and known to Defendants could have reasonably led them to conclude that Plaintiff was a fugitive from justice stemming from a 2012 child molestation case."

The post California Cops Locked an Innocent Man in a Sex Offender Unit for 3 Days appeared first on Reason.com.

Retiree Jim Ficken can finally breathe easy. After six years, two lawsuits, and harrying legal wrangling over a $30,000 fine for tall grass in Dunedin, Florida, a new settlement has brought him closure.

The agreement, announced on April 22, ends the city's pursuit to recover $10,000 in attorney fees that Dunedin officials tried to characterize as "administrative expenses" after reducing Ficken's original fine by 80 percent. The reduction was only possible because of reforms the city instituted soon after Ficken filed his first lawsuit.

Initially, the city attempted to tack on $25,000 for out-of-pocket legal expenses before realizing it had miscalculated that figure. As a result of this settlement, Ficken will not have to cough up any amount for bogus fees—an important consolation following setbacks in his first lawsuit.

Ficken attempted to reason with code enforcers before going to court—explaining that his lawn had grown long while he was settling his late mother's estate in South Carolina and that the landscaper he had hired to mow his grass while he was gone had died unexpectedly. He asked for leniency, but the city refused to budge and insisted on full payment: $500 per day for nearly two months, plus interest. They even put liens on Ficken's home and authorized city attorneys to initiate proceedings to seize it.

In response, Ficken filed a federal lawsuit with representation from the Institute for Justice, asserting that the excessive fines and lack of due process violated his Eighth and Fourteenth Amendment rights. He lost in district court in 2021 and again in 2022 at the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals—but he won in other ways. His case ignited a media frenzy and public calls for reform, prompting Dunedin to overhaul its code enforcement regime to prevent ruinous fines for trivial offenses.

After his legal battles, Ficken managed to get the fines reduced enough to prevent foreclosure. He thought he was safe. But then the city hit him with the bill for attorney fees, a retroactive attempt to penalize him for seeking his day in court. Left with no choice, he sued again in 2023.

The city could have avoided both lawsuits merely by treating Ficken like a neighbor instead of a cash machine.

While Ficken acknowledged his breach of a city ordinance and expected some penalty, Dunedin's aggressive tactics—aiming to extract tens of thousands of dollars and take his home—were blatantly excessive. American jurisprudence dictates that punishment must fit the crime. Municipalities must balance code enforcement with common sense and respect for property rights.

Dunedin moved in the right direction by making adjustments to its policies; however, the problem of excessive fines and fees is not confined to Dunedin—it is a national issue.

Across the country, similar stories of overzealous code enforcement abound. In Lantana, Florida, homeowner Sandy Martinez was fined more than $100,000 for parking violations on her own property. In Doraville, Georgia, Hilda Brucker was criminally prosecuted for having cracks in her driveway. And in Pagedale, Missouri, Valerie Whitner had to pay a fine for not having a screen on her back door.

Florida demographics create additional pressures. Many residents are retirees on fixed incomes living in single-family housing. People like Ficken have a right to stay, but some officials would prefer younger, more affluent taxpayers in their communities. Aggressive code enforcement is one way to target less desirable residents.

Sometimes enforcement is about preserving a certain aesthetic, as seen in Miami Shores, Florida in 2013. Officials declared vegetable gardens unsightly and threatened Hermine Ricketts and Tom Carroll with daily fines if they did not remove their front yard vegetables.

Regardless of motive, cities and towns must exercise restraint. The Constitution sets the baseline, and without it, abuses can and will grow quickly out of hand, and tall grass will be nothing in comparison.

The post Florida Man's Tall Grass Saga Comes to an End appeared first on Reason.com.

WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange has been imprisoned in London for five years, while Texas journalist Priscilla Villarreal was only briefly detained at the Webb County Jail. But both were arrested for publishing information that government officials wanted to conceal.

Assange and Villarreal argue that criminalizing such conduct violates the First Amendment. In both cases, the merits of that claim have been obscured by the constitutionally irrelevant question of who qualifies as a "real" journalist.

Assange, an Australian citizen, is fighting extradition to the United States based on a federal indictment that charges him with violating the Espionage Act by obtaining and publishing classified documents that former U.S. Army intelligence analyst Chelsea Manning leaked in 2010. He has already spent about as much time behind bars as federal prosecutors say he would be likely to serve if convicted.

President Joe Biden says he is "considering" the Australian government's request to drop the case against Assange. But mollifying a U.S. ally is not the only reason to reconsider this prosecution, which poses a grave threat to freedom of the press by treating common journalistic practices as crimes.

All but one of the 17 charges against Assange relate to obtaining or disclosing "national defense information," which is punishable by up to 10 years in prison. Yet all the news organizations that published stories based on the confidential State Department cables and military files that Manning leaked are guilty of the same crimes.

More generally, obtaining and publishing classified information is the bread and butter of reporters who cover national security. John Demers, then head of the Justice Department's National Security Division, implicitly acknowledged that reality in 2019, when he assured reporters they needn't worry about the precedent set by this case because Assange is "no journalist."

The U.S. Court of Appeals for the 5th Circuit took a similarly dim view of Villarreal in January, when it dismissed her lawsuit against the Laredo prosecutors and police officers who engineered her 2017 arrest. They claimed she had violated Section 39.06(c) of the Texas Penal Code, an obscure law that makes it a felony to solicit or obtain nonpublic information from a government official with "intent to obtain a benefit."

The cops said Villarreal committed that crime by asking Laredo police officer Barbara Goodman to confirm information about a public suicide and a fatal car crash. As interpreted by the Laredo Police Department, Section 39.06(c) sweeps even more broadly than the Espionage Act, making a felon out of any reporter who seeks information that is deemed exempt from disclosure under the Texas Public Information Act.

Gliding over the alarming implications of making it a crime for reporters to ask questions, the 5th Circuit dismissed the idea that Villarreal is "a martyr for the sake of journalism." The majority opinion by Judge Edith Jones dripped with contempt for Villarreal, an independent, uncredentialed journalist who posts her unfiltered reports on Facebook instead of publishing vetted and edited stories in a "mainstream, legitimate" news outlet.

Seemingly oblivious to what quotidian news reporting across the country entails, Jones faulted Villarreal for relying on a "backchannel source" and for "capitaliz[ing] on others' tragedies to propel her reputation and career." But like the judgment that Assange is "no journalist," such criticism fundamentally misconstrues freedom of the press, which applies to anyone who engages in mass communication.

The 5th Circuit's decision provoked four dissents authored or joined by seven judges, and it is not hard to see why. "If the First Amendment means anything," Judge James C. Ho wrote, "surely it means that citizens have the right to question or criticize public officials without fear of imprisonment."

In a petition it filed on Villarreal's behalf last week, the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression urges the U.S. Supreme Court to vindicate that right. "Villarreal went to jail for basic journalism," it notes. "Whatever one may make of Villarreal's journalistic ethics, they are of no constitutional significance."

© Copyright 2024 by Creators Syndicate Inc.

The post Journalism Is Not a Crime, Even When It Offends the Government appeared first on Reason.com.

In February, police officer John Barton arrested Twyla Stallworth in Andalusia, Alabama, because she refused to give him her photo identification. The only problem? Barton had no legal basis to demand Stallworth fork over her I.D. 

Stallworth's arrest is just the latest in a series of false arrests in Alabama that have stemmed from a misinterpretation of the state's 2006 "stop and identify law," which allows police, when they have reasonable suspicion that a crime is taking place, to demand individuals provide their name, address, and an explanation of their actions—but not their photo I.D.

It's not entirely clear how Barton ended up at Stallworth's home on February 23. A lawsuit filed by Stallworth earlier this month does not provide background on the incident, and video filmed by Stallworth's 18-year-old son Jermari starts after Barton had come to Stallworth's door. According to USA Today, Stallworth's lawyers say that the confrontation started when she called to complain about a neighbor's loud music.

However, even if Barton had some reason to believe Stallworth might have been committing a crime—something that is possible but seems unlikely given Stallworth was in her own home—he still wouldn't have been able to demand her I.D.

"Give me an I.D. or go to jail," Barton told Stallworth, who incredulously responded, "I'm going to jail for not providing my I.D."

In the video of the incident, Barton is seen pushing Jermari away and attempting to handcuff Stallworth.

"Don't push my son! What's wrong with you? You will not push my son!" Stallworth yelled.

A struggle ensued, during which Barton "physically assaulted Ms. Stallworth by shoving her down on a couch," according to the lawsuit.

After Stallworth had been arrested, video shows Jermari asking Barton to see the statute he claims Stallworth violated: "I actually want to see this law in play," he says. 

The statute, which Barton pulled up on his phone, allows police to "stop any person abroad in a public place whom he reasonably suspects is committing, has committed or is about to commit a felony or other public offense and may demand of him his name, address and an explanation of his actions."

"I don't see where it says anything about an I.D.," Jermari says. "It says your name, address, and an explanation."

"She failed to identify," Barton replied.

"I mean it doesn't specifically, you know, say an I.D.," Jermari added before Barton cut in: "I know, but I'm not going to argue with you either."

Despite Stallworth's son pointing out the obvious—that Stallworth hadn't broken the Alabama identification law—she was still charged with "obstruction, resisting arrest, and eluding," according to the lawsuit. The charges have since been dropped.

On March 8, Mayor of Andalusia Earl Johnson issued a formal apology to Stallworth, saying, "I would like to apologize to Twyla Stallworth for her arrest in February. All charges against Ms. Stallworth are being dropped." Johnson noted that Barton "has been disciplined for failing in his duty to know the law."

This is far from the first time that Alabama cops have misinterpreted the state's "stop and identify" law, wrongfully arresting individuals for not forking over their photo identifications. A man who was watering his neighbor's plants was arrested after refusing to give an officer his I.D. in May 2022. Last October, a federal court refused to grant qualified immunity to police officers who arrested a mechanic who refused to provide a government I.D. in 2019.

"The police are free to ask questions, and the public is free to ignore them," wrote 11th Circuit Court of Appeals Judge Charles R. Wilson in that last case. "Any legal obligation to speak to the police and answer their questions arises as a matter of state law."

The post Alabama Woman Arrested for Refusing To Give a Cop Her I.D. appeared first on Reason.com.

Tressa Beltran, former police chief of Hartford, Michigan, has been charged with multiple felonies, including delivery of narcotics, larceny, extortion, using a computer to commit a crime, embezzlement over $50 by a public official, and three counts of drug possession. Beltran reportedly admitted stealing from the drug disposal box at the police department. Now a new lawsuit against Beltran and the city claims she coerced Hai Quoc Le Jr. into providing her with pain medication he was prescribed for a torn ACL. Le is on parole, and according to his lawsuit, Beltran threatened to make his life "a living hell" if he didn't provide her with drugs, by reporting him to his parole officer and charging him criminally. Le says Beltran was often in her uniform and on duty when she met with him.

The post Brickbat: Keeping Drugs Off the Street appeared first on Reason.com.

At press time, the U.S. Senate is debating whether to not only renew the U.S. government's spying powers under Section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) but dramatically expand them. That's because the House, in reauthorizing the expiring powers last week after an extended battle, adopted language that broadens the definition of those who can be forced to help the government snoop. That leaves the Senate as the last check on already controversial legislation that just became more dangerous before it's signed by a president eager to exercise its power.

Unchecked Surveillance Authority

"The legislation coming from the House gives the government unchecked authority to order millions of Americans to spy on behalf of the government," warns Sen. Ron Wyden (D–Ore.). "Under current law—section 702 of the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act—the government can order the telephone companies and email and internet service providers to hand over communications. This bill expands that power dramatically. It says that the government can force cooperation from, quote, 'any other service provider who has access to equipment that is being or may be used to transmit or store wire or electronic communications.'"

The problem, point out privacy advocates, is that even before the House of Representatives debated the provisions of the Reforming Intelligence and Securing America Act (RISAA)—rejecting (on a tie vote) a requirement that government agents get a warrant before searching records about Americans, and ultimately settling on a two-year renewal of surveillance powers—members of the House Intelligence Committee inserted new and troubling language.

Their intention, according to Charlie Savage of The New York Times, was to clarify that cloud-computing data centers must cooperate with government spooks. But that's not what they confined themselves to in their changes to the text. As Wyden emphasizes, the bill now broadly applies to service providers with access to communication equipment. After much protest, exceptions were written in for hotels, restaurants, dwellings, and community centers. But everybody else is subject to the law.

Everyone Is a Spy

"An enormous range of businesses would still be fair game," protests a coalition of privacy, civil liberties, and civil rights groups in a letter to Senate leadership from both parties, "including grocery stores, department stores, hardware stores, laundromats, barber shops, fitness centers, and—perhaps most disturbingly—commercial landlords that rent out the office space where tens of millions of Americans go to work every day, including news media headquarters, political campaign offices, advocacy and grassroots organizations, lobbying firms, and law offices."

The coalition, which includes groups of widely varying political views, refers to this language as the "Everyone Is a Spy" provision, since potentially anybody with access to a laptop or WiFi router could be compelled to help the government conduct surveillance. Given how broadly the word access can be defined, that might even include cable installers, repairmen, and house cleaners.

"If this became law, millions of American small business owners would have a legal obligation to hand over data that runs through their equipment," caution former Rep. Bob Goodlatte (R–Va.) and former Sen. Mark Udall (D–Colo.), both now with the Project for Privacy and Surveillance Accountability. "And when they're done with doing their part in mass surveillance, these small businesses would then be placed under a gag order to hide their activities from their customers."

RISAA's Section 702 reauthorization is pending in the Senate, though the White House is pushing lawmakers "to swiftly pass this bill before the authority expires on April 19," so abuses of the new language are hypothetical. But it's a fact that the law's existing surveillance power, without the broadened scope of the "Everyone Is a Spy" provision, has already been misused against a great many Americans.

Surveillance Abuse Under Existing Law

In 2023, the House Judiciary Committee held two hearings to examine "the FBI's abuses of its Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) authorities." Declassified documents offered glimpses of misuses of surveillance power including FBI spying on a U.S. senator, a state lawmaker, and a judge.

"Section 702 poses significant privacy and civil liberties risks, most notably from U.S. person queries and batch queries" in which multiple search terms are run through the system as part of a single action, according to a report published last September by the federal Privacy and Civil Liberties Oversight Board (PCLOB). That report revealed that roughly three million queries on Americans were run just in 2021.

"Significant privacy and civil liberties risks also include the scope of permissible targeting," added the PCLOB review.

If the scope of permissible targeting is already risky, expanding the law's language to compel cooperation from "any other service provider who has access to equipment that is being or may be used to transmit or store wire or electronic communications" would seem to dramatically compound the risks.

Government Itself Is a Threat

"No democracy should give its government the Orwellian power contained in the House bill," cautions Elizabeth Goitein of the Brennan Center for Justice at NYU Law. "The Senate must take the time it needs to get this right, or our democracy will pay the price."

Fortunately, Ron Wyden isn't the Senate's only skeptic when it comes to Section 702 and domestic surveillance. Sen. Rand Paul (R–Ky.) opposed extending the law even before its language was broadened to include the "Everyone Is a Spy" provision.

"Using 702, Americans' communications content and metadata is inevitably swept up and kept in government databases without a warrant. Law enforcement agencies then access Americans' communications without a warrant," Paul warned in December. "Those who make the lazy and predictable argument that government is your only shield from threats always fail to mention that government itself often is the threat."

Civil libertarians were right about the dangers of Section 702 before it was amended to apply to landlords and cable installers. Last year's House hearings demonstrated that the law's power has already been abused by government officials. There's no reason to believe they'll be more restrained in their snooping when the law is less so.

The post Revised Section 702 Surveillance Authority Poses More Danger Than Ever appeared first on Reason.com.

The Scottish Ambulance Service fired Christopher Gallacher, a duty manager at West Centre in Glasgow, after finding he had an on-duty emergency dispatcher pick him and his family up at the airport after a vacation. According to a disciplinary tribunal, this happened on an evening when there were a "high number of calls" and patients were waiting for "lengthy periods of time." The dispatcher was away from his post for 45 minutes. Gallacher said he had assumed the man would use his break to pick him up.

The post Brickbat: Free Ride appeared first on Reason.com.

A 78-year-old woman whose home was mistakenly raided by a Denver SWAT team will now receive a nearly $3.8 million payout. The large sum comes as a result of a 2020 Colorado law that banned qualified immunity protections for police officers in the state, making civil rights lawsuits against police significantly more likely to succeed. 

On January 4th, 2022, Ruby Johnson, a retired postal worker, was sitting in her Denver home when she heard a police airhorn loudly commanding that she leave her home with her hands up. Johnson, who had recently showered and was only wearing a bathrobe, left her house to find a Denver SWAT team gathered outside her door.

The SWAT team had been sent to Johnson's home as part of an effort to recover a vehicle that had been stolen the previous day. According to Johnson's lawsuit, the stolen car had an iPhone inside, and the Find My app feature indicated that the phone was near Johnson's house. 

While the police officers had obtained a warrant to search Johnson's home, they did so using an affidavit that allegedly provided "false characterization" of how reliable the Find My app is, overstating how sure the police could be that the iPhone—and the truck—would be at Johnson's house.

According to Johnson's lawsuit, after receiving this warrant, the SWAT team aggressively searched her home, causing considerable damage to her belongings. Making matters worse, even though Johnson gave police her garage door opener and told them how to enter the garage's front door, police used a battering ram to enter the garage, destroying the door and door frame. Ultimately, the SWAT team found no sign of the truck or any other criminal activity. The officers left and later told Johnson's children that the department wouldn't pay Johnson for the considerable damage caused to her home.

Johnson filed a lawsuit with the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) of Colorado in December 2022, alleging that the search was unlawful under the Colorado Constitution.

"Officers combed through Ms. Johnson's home for hours and found no evidence of anything even remotely connected to any criminal activity. The illegal search succeeded only in leaving the innocent Ms. Johnson traumatized," the complaint states. "Ms. Johnson's privacy, sense of safety, and peace in her home have been shattered since her house became the scene of a militarized criminal investigation. This illegal search has destroyed Ms. Johnson's sense of safety and security in the home that has been her castle for forty years."

On Monday, the ACLU of Colorado announced that Johnson had been awarded $3.76 million, including $1.26 million in compensatory damages and $2.5 million in punitive damages. In a press release, the ACLU largely credited the passage of a 2020 law that revoked police qualified immunity protections—which typically prevent law enforcement from being sued for Constitutional violations—for the victory.

"This is a small step toward justice for Ms. Johnson, but it is a critical case under our state's Constitution, for the first time affirming that police can be held accountable for invading someone's home without probable cause," Tim Macdonald, ACLU of Colorado Legal Director said on Monday. "The ACLU worked hard in the summer of 2020, with lots of other stakeholders, to create a right to sue for violations of the state Constitution."

The post 78-Year-Old Grandmother Awarded $3.8 Million After Illegal SWAT Raid appeared first on Reason.com.

Last July, the New Mexico chapter of Mothers Against Drunk Driving (MADD) picked Honorio Alba Jr., a member of the Albuquerque Police Department's DWI unit, as "Officer of the Year." A few months later, Albuquerque's Civilian Police Oversight Agency received a letter about "questionable conduct" by Alba. Instead of arresting an intoxicated driver who nearly caused a crash while speeding and subsequently drove onto a curb, Alba reportedly had referred him to a specific local attorney. That letter triggered a corruption investigation, and last week Alba resigned prior to a scheduled interview with his department's internal affairs division.

Alba was one of five Albuquerque officers who were placed on administrative leave pending the outcome of the internal probe and a related FBI investigation. Another officer, Lt. Justin Hunt, resigned a few weeks ago. The FBI is looking into allegations that Alba and his colleagues got paid to make DWI cases disappear by failing to testify. Although no charges have been filed yet, FBI agents have executed search warrants at cops' homes and at the office of Thomas Clear, an Albuquerque attorney who specializes in DWI cases.

Albuquerque Police Chief Harold Medina has promised to "leave no stone unturned and make sure that we get to the bottom of this." But Medina himself is the subject of an internal investigation that he requested after he broadsided a car last month, severely injuring the driver. Medina's fishy account of that incident is apt to reinforce the public distrust generated by the corruption scandal.

In response to the corruption allegations, the Bernalillo County District Attorney's Office dropped some 200 DWI cases, saying it could not rely on the testimony of the cops who had made the arrests. KOB, the NBC affiliate in Albuquerque, reports that Alba was the arresting officer in many of those cases. KRQE, the local CBS affiliate, looked at DWI cases filed during the previous six years. It found that another cop who was placed on leave, Joshua Montaño, "was named as the officer in at least 36 cases" in which the defendants were represented by Clear, and "nearly 90% of those cases ended in dismissals."

Speaking in general terms about the corruption investigation at a February 2 press conference, Chief Medina noted that DWI cases often are dismissed when officers are unavailable to testify, an outcome that defense attorneys can make more likely by seeking trial delays. "Systems that struggle, systems that have loopholes, are really open to corruption," Medina said. "We're dealing with stuff that we anticipate started decades ago, and we've done a lot of things that have got us to this point. But we will continue to dig and look and leave no stone unturned and make sure that we get to the bottom of this."

That promise of transparency and accountability was undermined two weeks later, when Medina ran a red light and collided with a car that had the right of way. On Saturday, February 17, according to a press release from the Albuquerque Police Department (APD), Medina "was headed to a news conference in his unmarked department issued vehicle"—a pickup truck—"with his wife." They were in the left turn lane on Alvarado Drive NE at the intersection with Central Avenue when they "witnessed two individuals fighting." They "then saw one of the individuals pull out a gun," and "shots were fired." Since "Chief Medina and his wife were in the direct line of fire," he "took evasive action through the intersection to get his vehicle away from the gunfire."

The official account describes what happened next without reference to Medina's culpability. "A gold Mustang was traveling eastbound on Central and continued forward as Chief Medina was entering the intersection," it says, "and the vehicles collided."

Medina gives a more detailed account in a video he recorded a few days after the crash. "When we were driving down Central," he says, "I noticed that there could possibly be a homeless encampment on Alvarado north of Central." He took a detour and drove past the encampment, planning to call an underling about it. At the intersection of Alvarado and Central, he stopped for a red light. "My wife stated, 'Look, those two homeless individuals are about to get into a fight,'" he said. "My wife stated, 'gun, gun.' I looked up, and I could hear that a shot had been fired, and I saw an individual that was holding a firearm pointing it at another individual who was directly in line with my wife."

Medina decided "the best thing I could do was get my wife out of the way and regroup and see what the best response would be." He claims he proceeded with care. "I looked to my left, and the intersection was cleared," he says. "I thought that…the car was going to pass before I got there, and it did not. And unfortunately, I struck the vehicle. The occupant of the other vehicle was injured, and it's just another sign of how gun violence sometimes impacts our community."

Former Bernalillo County Sheriff Darren White, a former crash investigator, was skeptical of that self-exculpating story after examining surveillance video of the accident. "It's clear by the video that that wasn't the case," he told KOAT, the ABC affiliate in Albuquerque. "He cuts off a vehicle immediately. That's westbound on Central. Had to slam on its brakes. You can see that. And then he bolts across what is potentially one of the busiest roadways in the state of New Mexico and broadsides a car."

As White sees it, "the chief was not looking" because "he was distracted by something." He added, "I don't mean the shooting" because Medina was "already across the intersection" at that point.

Tom Grover, a local attorney who represents police officers accused of misconduct, sees several possible policy violations. In an interview with KOAT, "Grover said some of the violations the chief could be in trouble for include having his wife in the car and taking police action, not having his radio turned on and not turning on his lights and siren" when "he ran the red light."

Medina also belatedly activated his body camera. "My camera wasn't on at the beginning of this incident," he says in the video. "I think that everybody's been held accountable for cameras, and I wanted to make sure that I was investigated…Did I have time to turn this on? Was it proper for me to have it on before then?"

KOAT notes that "some say officers have been fired for similar conduct." In 2017, for example, an Albuquerque police officer "was rushing with lights and sirens to a call of a man armed with a machete when a car pulled out in front of him. The person driving that car died in the crash. The city fired the officer and paid more than $3 million in a civil suit." In 2013, a 21-year-old woman died after another Albuquerque officer "sped through a red light at Paseo Del Norte and Eagle Ranch, hitting her car." The city paid $8.5 million to settle a lawsuit by her family. The officer was convicted of careless driving and sentenced to 90 days in jail.

Albuquerque Mayor Tim Keller appeared unfazed by Medina's seemingly similar conduct. "Whether it's our city or the individuals that he helped, or potentially the lives that he saved because of the shooting that was happening," Keller said after the crash, "we all owe him a debt of gratitude today and every day."

This week the Albuquerque City Council rejected a proposal for an independent task force to investigate the incident. The members who voted against the idea noted that Victor Valdez, the former judge who has been charged with investigating the crash as the APD's superintendent of police reform, does not report to the chief.

"I would hope that there is no bias, but it appears like there possibly could be," said City Councilor Renee Grout, one of four council members who favored the task force. "We just need to have some accountability. We need to have transparency. I don't think that it would hurt to have this outside investigation. I think it would help the community have better trust in our APD force."

The post New Mexico MADD 'Officer of the Year' Resigns Amid DWI Corruption Scandal appeared first on Reason.com.

"I'm just floored and shocked," Rankin County, Mississippi, Sheriff Bryan Bailey said last August after five of his former deputies admitted to punching, kicking, tasing, torturing, and humiliating two men during an unlawful home invasion the previous January. "This is a perfect example of why people don't trust the police, and never in my life did I think it would happen in this department."

According to an investigation by The New York Times and Mississippi Today, however, Bailey had plenty of reasons to think something like this would happen in his department. Similar things had been happening in Rankin County "for nearly two decades," the Times reported in November.

"Narcotics detectives and patrol officers, some [of whom] called themselves the Goon Squad, barged into homes in the middle of the night, accusing people inside of dealing drugs," the paper said. "Then they handcuffed or held them at gunpoint and tortured them into confessing or providing information."

The Times and Mississippi Today corroborated "17 incidents involving 22 victims based on witness interviews, medical records, photographs of injuries and other documents." Those cases almost always involved "small drug busts," and the accusers "described similar tactics." Deputies "held people down while punching and kicking them or shocked them repeatedly with Tasers." They "shoved gun barrels into people's mouths." Three people "said deputies had waterboarded them until they thought they would suffocate," while "five said deputies had told them to move out of the county."

Although the federal charges that drew national attention to police brutality in Rankin County involved two black victims, Bailey's deputies were equal-opportunity abusers. They "appear to have targeted people based on suspected drug use, not race," the Times said. "Most of their accusers were white."

The deputies' pattern of abuse was reflected in complaints and lawsuits. "More than a dozen people have directly confronted Sheriff Bailey and his command staff about the deputies' brutal methods," the Times noted, and "at least five people have sued the department alleging beatings, chokings and other abuses by deputies associated with the Goon Squad."

Bailey said he had never heard of the Goon Squad and had no reason to think his deputies were abusing their authority. "Nobody's ever reported that to me," he said in August, and he "never, ever could've imagined" that the five convicted deputies, who included a man he said he knew "well" and had chosen as investigator of the year in 2013, were capable of "these horrendous crimes."

Bailey, who was reelected in November after running unopposed, rejected calls for his resignation. "I'm going to fix this," he promised. "I'm going to make everyone a whole lot more accountable."

The post Sheriff Who Presided Over Violent 'Goon Squad' Tries To Play Dumb appeared first on Reason.com.

Pennsylvania police officers have reached a settlement with a woman who says she underwent an unnecessary and humiliating strip-search after she was pulled over for a minor traffic violation. 

According to a lawsuit filed in 2021, Holly Elish was traveling through Bentlyville, Pennsylvania, on her way home from work when she was pulled over by local police officer Brian Rousseau.

When Rousseau pulled Elish over, he quickly asked for consent to search her vehicle, which Elish denied. According to the lawsuit, Rousseau responded that "he had the right to search her vehicle." Soon after, a second police officer arrived on the scene. The two men again asked to search Elish's vehicle, telling her that even more officers would soon arrive.

"Fearing for her safety and knowing that the police did not have justification to search her vehicle yet were insistent and intimidating in attempting to do so, Ms. Elish allowed the vehicle search to occur under duress and coercion," the complaint states.

The officers searched Elish's car but found no sign of drugs, illegal weapons, or other contraband. However, that wasn't enough for the officers to let Elish go. A female police officer—unnamed in the suit—had arrived on the scene, and after having a brief conversation with the other officers began to strip-search Elish.

The officer "began the strip search by physically and visually inspecting Ms. Elish's breasts," according to the complaint. Elish then had "to remove her pants and underwear to her ankles and 'squat' to the ground, during which she bent down to the ground with one knee and performed a visual cavity inspection."

The complaint further states that the female police officer "began to put gloves on her hands stating to Ms. Elish, 'I'm sorry. This is the worst part of my job.'" However, the suit states that, just before physically searching Elish, she asked her "Do you know why they want me to do this?" Elish responded that she didn't know and that she was "simply on her way home from work to pick up her child."

Following this interaction, the female officer refused to search Elish. She was eventually allowed to leave, though Rousseau did later write Elish a citation for driving five miles per hour over the speed limit. That citation was dropped, though, when Rousseau failed to appear at the hearing.

Elish filed a lawsuit against the two male officers in November 2021. After a more than three-year legal battle, including a civil trial, a settlement was reached in the case, though the exact terms of the settlement have not yet been revealed.

"This warrantless search culminated in a minor traffic violation for driving five miles per hour over the posted speed limit, for which Ms. Elish was subsequently found not guilty," the complaint read. "As a direct and proximate cause of this search, Ms. Elish suffered mental anguish, embarrassment, and [humiliation]."

The post Pennsylvania Police Settle Lawsuit With Woman Forced to Undergo 'Humiliating' Strip-Search appeared first on Reason.com.

During the height of the pandemic summer of 2020, the proprietors of the Burning Bridge Tavern worked with local officials in Wrightsville, Pennsylvania, to host a series of outdoor gatherings for the community.

For their trouble, the bar's owners got slapped with a series of citations by the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board (PLCB), the government agency that oversees and manages the sale of alcohol in the state. The citations were ticky-tack offenses, according to Burning Bridge's chief financial officer, Mike Butler. Twice, the bar was cited for noise violations because they'd allowed a band playing at the gathering to plug into the tavern's electricity supply. Another offense occurred when the owners and some family members were drinking inside the tavern, which was closed to the public, during a period when indoor dining was prohibited.

A frustrating situation, but not the end of the world. Burning Bridge's owners paid the fines associated with the citations and assumed that was that. But then the bar had to renew its liquor license.

"They denied it. They said, 'Oh, you're the guys that got all those citations,'" Butler says. "It was a real gut punch."

Turns out, over the past two years the PLCB has pushed dozens of Pennsylvania establishments that racked up pandemic-​related citations to sign "conditional licensing agreements" to renew their liquor permits. In some cases, those agreements have forced the sale of licenses—but in most cases, as with Burning Bridge, they've added additional conditions to the license that could prevent a future renewal from being approved.

While the PLCB cannot revoke existing licenses, the board is empowered to object to the renewal of a license or to demand the license can only be renewed conditionally. "In extreme cases," PLCB Press Secretary Shawn Kelly says, the PLCB can force the sale of a liquor license, though the board only pursues that option when "there is an operational and citation history that calls for such an agreement."

Even though Burning Bridge's owners weren't forced to sell their license, Butler says signing the conditional licensing agreement has come with real costs: The bar's insurance premium tripled as a result of being viewed as a greater risk.

Typically, those agreements have been used to curb nuisance bars or force establishments with a history of legal problems, like serving underage patrons, to clean up their acts. Recently, however, the PLCB has taken a hardline stance against establishments that violated pandemic-era rules.

"The people who violated the governor's mandates and orders should face some consequences," argued Mary Isenhour, one of the PLCB's three board members, at a January 2022 meeting where the first several of the COVID-related conditional licensing agreements were approved.

Isenhour was responding to an objection raised by a fellow board member, Michael Negra, who argued that the PLCB should take the view that businesses had "paid their dues" during the pandemic and should not face additional sanction now. Negra left the PLCB in June 2022 and now works for a ​Pittsburgh-based lobbying firm. He did not return requests for comment.

After Negra's departure, the PLCB has unanimously approved dozens of conditional licensing agreements for COVID-​related violations, including at least 10 that have required the sale of a license, based on a review of PLCB meeting minutes.

Kelly, the PLCB spokesman, maintains that licensees are "under no obligation" to sign conditional licensing agreements.

But any licensee that refuses would face a set of unattractive alternatives: not having the license renewed, or being drawn into a legal battle against the PLCB in state court.

"Do you risk your entire business, your license, the loans, all of that to fight" in a real court, asks Butler. "Or do you just kind of hold your nose and take your medicine? Tactically, for us, we weren't in a position to say, 'Yeah, we'll run that risk.'"

Chuck Moran, executive director of the Pennsylvania Licensed Beverage and Tavern Association, acknowledges that pandemic-era public health orders left many establishments with a difficult choice between following the law and surviving financially. Fairly or unfairly, "those who broke the rules went the wrong way and now they're paying the price," he says.

The whole matter raises some complicated questions about how our political institutions ought to handle, with the benefit of hindsight, the unprecedented circumstances created by the pandemic and policy makers' response to it.

"The feeling was that our government really isn't working to try and help us," says Butler. "At this point, it feels like they're coming after us."

The post Liquor Regulators Are Seeking Revenge on Bars That Broke Pandemic Rules appeared first on Reason.com.

Every year, thousands of New York City families are subjected to invasive home searches as part of child abuse and neglect investigations. While less than 7 percent of these investigations lead the agency to file claims of abuse or neglect, a new lawsuit alleges that the city's Administration for Children's Services (ACS) workers often make misleading—or outright false—threats to coerce parents to allow ACS to conduct warrantless searches of their homes.

According to the lawsuit, which was filed on Tuesday, ACS employs a widespread policy of coercing families under investigation to allow case workers into their homes. ACS workers allegedly often tell families that they "must" or "have to" let them search their homes, insist that they do not need a warrant for the search, and even threaten to take noncompliant parents' children away. 

Even though ACS workers are technically legally required to obtain a warrant to search homes, the agency very rarely seeks them. According to the suit, of the almost 53,000 investigations conducted by ACS in 2023, it only sought 222 court orders to search families' homes.

"Even assuming ACS completed only one home search during each investigation (it typically conducts several), ACS sought court orders for just 0.4% of home entries," the suit states. "This means over 99.5% of home searches that ACS conducts are 'presumptively unreasonable' under the Fourth Amendment."

Once inside a family's home, the suit claims that ACS workers engage in incredibly invasive tactics, looking "inside medicine cabinets, under beds, in closets and dresser drawers, in the refrigerator, and in cupboards." Even more troubling, strip searches of children are common, with workers demanding that children lift up their shirts or pull down their pants. Over the course of an investigation—the average length is 60 days—families are typically subjected to these searches more than once.

The agency itself seems self-aware about the impact of these coercive techniques. According to one 2020 report by the National Innovation Service, ACS policy "incentivizes [staff] to be invasive and not tell parents their rights." The report noted how "the experience of an investigation, even when an allegation is ultimately determined to be unfounded, too often traumatizes parents and children."

Further, agency leadership has also acknowledged that many reports of child abuse and neglect are completely unfounded, as individuals are allowed to make anonymous reports. A 2023 letter from the New York City Bar went so far as to state that a "significant percentage of" child abuse hotline callers "make false reports, for the purpose of harassment."

In all, the suit argues that ACS' policy of using coercive tactics to enter families' homes without a warrant constitutes a violation of their Fourth Amendment rights, arguing that the agency's "failure to adequately train or supervise ACS caseworkers regarding the protection of parents' Fourth Amendment rights" has directly led ACS workers to use manipulative, false tactics to persuade families to allow them to "conduct warrantless, non-exigent searches of Plaintiffs' and class members' homes."

The post NYC Child Protection Agency Uses 'Coercive Tactics' To Bully Parents Into Allowing Warrantless Searches appeared first on Reason.com.

Last week, a rookie Tennessee police officer died in the line of duty. But while the loss of the officer is tragic, evidence suggests that his death—as well as the death of a woman in his custody—was a result of his negligence.

Meigs County Deputy Robert "R. J." Leonard, who had just joined the sheriff's office fresh out of the academy in December, responded to a call of a disturbance Wednesday night. According to reports, a man and woman were fighting on a bridge, and Leonard arrested the woman around 10 p.m. According to Meigs County District Attorney Russell Johnson, the arrest was Leonard's first since joining the force.

After handcuffing the suspect—later identified as Tabitha Smith—and placing her in the back seat, Leonard radioed in that he was transporting her to jail. But on the way, according to Johnson, the deputy apparently sent his wife a text that read simply, "Arrest."

"His wife texted back and said, 'That's good' or 'That's great,'" said Sheriff Austin Garrett of nearby Hamilton County. But at that time, Leonard apparently drove the wrong way down a Blythe Ferry boat ramp and into the Tennessee River. At the same time Leonard texted his wife, dispatchers say they received a garbled radio message from him, with the only discernible word being "water."

The following day, a patrol vehicle was removed from the Tennessee River, from which the bodies of Leonard and Smith were later recovered.

While Leonard's death is tragic, leaving behind not only his wife but three children, all too little attention was paid to the woman who died, handcuffed, in his custody. Chief Deputy Brian Malone fought back tears as he announced Leonard's death, referring to Leonard as "part of our family," while only referring to Smith—herself a mother of two—as "the other victim."

The report filed on the events by Los Angeles' ABC7 features the headline, "Bodies of missing Tennessee deputy and woman who had been detained recovered, officials say." But that was changed from the original headline, "Tennessee deputy found dead after making first arrest, patrol vehicle recovered from river." While this reflects an earlier time when less information was available, that article still featured the detail that dispatchers had lost communication with Leonard right as he was texting his wife and that "the deputy, a native of New York, appeared to be texting and radioing while driving in a poorly lit area he was unfamiliar with."

Indeed, a report on Chattanooga's ABC9 noted that the crash "raises questions over safety on Blythe Ferry boat ramps," but the segment still shows that the road leading to the boat ramp in question featured three "rumble strips"—bumps in the road meant to alert drivers to upcoming danger—and three yellow signs warning that "road ends."

Unfortunately, Smith is just one of countless people to die in police custody. In 2014, Congress passed the Death in Custody Reporting Act, which requires the federal government to collect and analyze data on the number of inmates who die each year in state, local, or federal custody. But a report published last year by the Leadership Conference Education Fund and the Project on Government Oversight found that the government "has yet to collect reliable data, let alone produce the required study." Citing data from the Government Accountability Office, the report notes that "in 2021 alone, the government potentially undercounted deaths in custody by nearly 1,000 compared to other public data sources."

Leonard's crash was almost certainly an accident, driving down a dark road in an unfamiliar area at night. But preliminary evidence suggests a degree of negligence, both by texting while driving and failing to heed multiple posted signs. While Leonard's death was a tragedy, it is necessary to note that his negligence also caused the death of a woman in his custody.

The post Tennessee Deputy Dies While Texting and Driving, Killing Suspect in the Back Seat appeared first on Reason.com.