Serious problems persist in indigent legal defense
It is not the happiest of birthdays for the landmark
Supreme Court decision that, a half-century ago, guaranteed a lawyer for criminal defendants who are too poor to afford one.
A unanimous high court issued its decision in Gideon v. Wainwright
on March 18, 1963, declaring that states have an obligation to provide
defendants with "the guiding hand of counsel" to ensure a fair trial for
the accused.
But in many states today, taxpayer-funded public defenders face
crushing caseloads, the quality of legal representation varies from
county to county and people stand before judges having seen a lawyer
only briefly, if at all.
"There is no denying that much, much needs to be done," Attorney General Eric Holder said Friday at a Justice Department event to commemorate the anniversary.
Clarence Earl Gideon
had been in and out of jail in his nearly 51 years when he was arrested
on suspicion of stealing wine and some money from vending machines at a
Panama City, Fla., pool hall in 1961. Gideon asked the judge for a
lawyer before his trial, but was turned down. At the time, Florida only
provided lawyers for indigent defendants in capital cases.
A jury soon convicted Gideon and
the state Supreme Court upheld the verdict on appeal. Then, from his
Florida prison cell, Gideon scratched out his Supreme Court appeal in
pencil on prison stationery. It arrived at the court early in 1962, when
the justices were looking for a good case to take on the issue of indigent defense. The court appointed Washington lawyer Abe Fortas, a future justice, to represent him.
Just two months after hearing arguments, Justice Hugo Black wrote for
the court that "in our adversary system of criminal justice, any person
hauled into court, who is too poor to hire a lawyer, cannot be assured a
fair trial unless counsel is provided for him. This seems to us to be
an obvious truth."
Five months later, Gideon got a lawyer and a new trial, and the
attorney poked holes in the prosecution's case. A jury quickly returned
its verdict: not guilty.
So that was the promise of Gideon — that a competent lawyer for the
defense would stand on an equal footing with prosecutors, and that
justice would prevail, at least in theory.
A half-century later, there are
parts of the country where "it is better to be rich and guilty than poor
and innocent," said Sen. Patrick Leahy,
D-Vt., chairman of the Senate Judiciary Committee and a former
prosecutor. Leahy said court-appointed lawyers often are underpaid and
can be "inexperienced, inept, uninterested or worse."
Regardless of guilt or innocence, few of those accused of crimes are
rich, while 80 percent say they are too poor to afford a lawyer.
People who work in the criminal justice system have become numb to
the problems, creating a culture of low expectations, said Jonathan
Rapping, a veteran public defender who has worked in Washington, D.C.,
Atlanta and New Orleans.
Rapping remembers walking into a courtroom in New Orleans for the
first time for a client's initial appearance before a judge. Several
defendants in jump suits were shackled together in one part of the
courtroom. The judge moved briskly through charges against each of the
men, with a lawyer speaking up for each one.
Then he called a name and there was no lawyer present. The defendant
piped up. "The guy said he hadn't seen a lawyer since he was locked up
70 days ago. And no one in the courtroom was shocked. No one was
surprised," Rapping said.
Complaints about the quality of representation also are difficult to
sustain, under a high bar that the Supreme Court set in a 1984 case. The
relatively few cases in which a lawyer's work is deemed so bad that it
violates his client's rights typically have an outlandish set of facts
that would be funny if the consequences weren't tragic.
"You see too many instances of ineffective assistance of counsel, too many instances where you think, 'Was this lawyer crazy?'" Supreme Court Justice Elena Kagan said at the Justice Department event.
She recounted a case from last term in which a lawyer advised his
client to reject a plea deal with a seven-year prison term and go to
trial. The lawyer said prosecutors could not prove a charge of intent to
murder because the victim had been shot below the waist. The defendant
was convicted and sentenced to 30 years in prison.
Kagan was part of the 5-4 decision in the defendant's favor.
In some places, lawyers are
overwhelmed by their caseloads. A public defender in Indianapolis lasted
less than a year in his job after being asked to represent more than
300 defendants at a time, said Norman Lefstein, former dean of the Indiana University Robert H. McKinney School of Law.
"A lawyer with an S on his chest for Superman couldn't represent
these people. He simply couldn't do it. There are only so many hours in a
day. But it's not just caseload. It's the other support services that
go along with it," including investigators, said Lefstein, who has
studied problems in indigent defense for decades.
In Luzerne County, in northeastern Pennsylvania, the chief public
defender told the local court he would stop accepting certain cases
because his office had too many clients, too few lawyers and not enough
money. A judge's ruling in June acknowledged the lack of money and
manpower, but forbade the defender's office to turn away cases. The
judge's ruling was encouraging, Lefstein said, but on his last visit to
Wilkes-Barre in January he found "the caseloads are worse than ever."
Eighteen states, including California, Illinois, New York and
Pennsylvania, leave the funding of indigent defense entirely to their
counties, said Rhoda Billings, a former chief justice of the North
Carolina Supreme Court who has looked at the issue for the American Bar
Association. Those states "have a significant disparity in the
appointment of counsel" from one county to the next, Billings said.
Public defenders in those counties often report to elected officials
or their appointees, rather than independent boards that are insulated
from politics. But even programs run at the statewide level are not free
of political influence, Billings said, citing the case of a New Mexico
public defender fired by the governor.
The lack of independence raises questions about whether decisions are being made in the best interests of clients, Rapping said.
The avalanche of cases and politics come together to present a
formidable obstacle to alleviating some of the problems that afflict the
system in some states. Politicians do not like asking voters for money
for indigent defense.
"Arguing for more money to defend criminals is not the easiest way to
win a close election," said former Vice President Walter Mondale. As
Minnesota's attorney general in the early 1960s, Mondale recruited 21
other states to join in a brief urging the court to rule as it did and
rejected a plea from Florida to support limits on states'
responsibilities to poor defendants.
Heralded for its powerful statement about the right to a lawyer, the
Gideon decision also left states on their own to pay for the provision
of counsel, Lefstein said. "It came as an unfunded mandate to 50 state
governments and that problem endures," he said, noting that in England,
Parliament provides money to local governments to pay for legal
representation of the poor.
"The federal government does next to nothing to support indigent defense in the United States," Lefstein said.
Since becoming attorney general more than four years ago, Holder has
shown a commitment to the issue. He established an "Access to Justice"
program and made Harvard Law School professor Laurence Tribe its initial
director. The department also has sent a few million dollars to defense
programs across the country. He announced nearly $2 million in new
grants on Friday.
The right announced by the Supreme Court 50 years ago only covers
criminal cases. It has never been extended to civil matters, although as
Mondale pointed out, they can lead to people losing their homes, their
families, being confined in a mental institution or being thrown out of
the country.
To people in those situations, he said, the distinction between criminal and civil law "doesn't make much of a difference."