Did President Trump Obstruct Justice? A Prosecution Analysis

Did President Trump obstruct justice? On May 9, 2017, the President fired FBI Director James Comey. This unexpected move immediately raised questions about the President’s motives. Critics charged that Trump was seeking to derail the FBI investigation into possible Russian ties to the Trump campaign.

Then, a week after Comey was sacked, substantial fuel was added to the obstruction fire. The New York Times reported that in a private meeting in February President Trump asked Comey to drop the investigation of former National Security Advisor Michael Flynn. Comey apparently prepared a memo memorializing this meeting. Comey wrote that Trump told him Flynn was a “good guy” who didn’t do anything wrong, and said , “I hope you can see your way clear to letting this go, to letting Flynn go.”

Additional news continues to trickle out. On May 19 the New York Times reported that in a meeting in the Oval Office with Russian officials the President told them, “I just fired the head of the F.B.I. He was crazy, a real nut job.” Trump also reportedly told the Russian officials, “I faced great pressure because of Russia. That’s taken off.”

Then on May 22, the Washington Post reported that Trump had asked the director of national intelligence and the director of the National Security Agency to publicly deny there was any evidence of collusion between Russian officials and the Trump campaign. Both refused to do so because they felt the request was inappropriate. Later in the same story, the Post reported that senior White House officials also had approached top intelligence officials to ask whether it was possible to ask Comey to shut down the FBI investigation.

“Obstruction of justice” is a term that gets tossed around fairly loosely. The op-ed pages and Twitter have been pronouncing Trump guilty for days. But the crime of obstruction of justice has specific requirements that can be difficult to prove. A federal prosecutor analyzing this as a criminal case would face some hurdles, although the case grows stronger with each new revelation. But in the end, political remedies — including potential impeachment — are more likely than criminal ones.

The Criminal Obstruction Statutes

Several different criminal statutes prohibit obstruction of justice. There are other options, but if I were considering this case I would focus on 18 U.S.C. § 1512(c)(2). This catch-all provision applies to anyone who “corruptly obstructs, influences, or impedes any official proceeding, or attempts to do so.” The maximum penalty is twenty years in prison.

Obstruction is a crime independent of the merits of any underlying case. Even if an investigation doesn’t result in criminal charges, you can get in trouble for obstructing that investigation – just ask Scooter Libby or Martha Stewart. As the old saying goes, sometimes the cover-up is worse than the crime.

The statute applies to attempts to obstruct a proceeding even if they are unsuccessful. If the investigation into Russian ties continued unimpeded, that would not be a defense to any attempted obstruction.

What Is the Relevant Proceeding?

In any obstruction case, the first task is to identify the proceeding the defendant was allegedly trying to obstruct. There is no such thing as “obstruction in the air.” The government must prove the defendant had a particular proceeding in mind, even if that proceeding had not yet begun. (The prosecution’s failure to prove the link to a specific proceeding is what led the judge in the Bob and Maureen McDonnell case to throw out her obstruction conviction.)

Under § 1512 a proceeding may be a matter before any of the three branches of the federal government. A trial or other court proceeding, a Congressional investigation, or a proceeding before a federal agency all may qualify.

You generally can’t be charged with obstructing an FBI investigation itself, because an investigation is not a “proceeding.” A different obstruction statute, 18 U.S.C. § 1519, could apply if Trump destroyed documents or records (or Oval Office tape recordings?) to impede the FBI investigation. But firing Comey or urging him to drop the case would not fall within that prohibition.

Removing the FBI director might have some tangential effect on the ongoing Congressional investigations, which qualify as proceedings. But the most likely theory would be that Trump, by urging Comey to drop the investigation and then firing him when that didn’t happen, was attempting to impede the pending grand jury investigation into possible Russian connections to his campaign.

There were recent news reports that a federal grand jury has issued subpoenas for records related to Michael Flynn. There appears to be an active grand jury investigation, and there is probably little doubt the President is aware of it. A grand jury investigation is a “proceeding” for purposes of 1512.

This is a link made in many obstruction cases. The FBI investigates, but it can’t file charges and prosecute on its own. In a criminal case the FBI typically is working with federal prosecutors conducting a grand jury investigation. Often when people speak of obstructing an FBI investigation, what they really mean is obstructing the underlying grand jury proceeding in which the FBI is involved.

Prosecutors could charge that Trump sought to impede the grand jury investigation by persuading Comey to drop the case and, when that failed, by firing him. The government would bear the burden of proving Trump  had the grand jury investigation in mind when he took those actions.

Did President Trump obstruct justice by firing Comey?

Former FBI Director James Comey

Did President Trump Obstruct Justice?

As in so many white collar cases, the critical issue would be proving intent. Corrupt intent is the key to obstruction of justice. It means the defendant acted with the deliberate and dishonest purpose of interfering with the proceeding. In other words, wrongfully obstructing the proceeding is what he set out to do. It isn’t enough if the proceeding is affected as a collateral or unintended consequence of the defendant’s actions.

How would a prosecutor prove the President’s intent? One remarkable aspect of this case is the significance of the President’s own statements. During his recent interview with Lester Holt of NBC news, the President admitted he was thinking about the “Russia thing,” which he called a “made up story,” when he decided to fire Comey. This admission could get prosecutors over what is sometimes a significant hurdle: proving the defendant at least had the relevant proceeding in mind.

The day after firing Comey, the President reportedly told Russian officials that he had faced “pressure” over Russia and that firing Comey had removed that pressure. The defense would dispute exactly what the President meant by this, but at a minimum it is further evidence that Comey’s firing was linked in the President’s mind to the Russia investigation.

Building a Circumstantial Case

Prosecutors often prove corrupt intent by circumstantial evidence. In this case, there is no shortage of it. First, the timing of Comey’s firing is suspicious. Most of the misdeeds for which he allegedly was fired have been known for months. But the President chose to remove him only when the Russia investigation was reportedly heating up.

Reasons for the firing also seem suspect. The White House claims Comey was fired over his handling of  the Hillary Clinton email scandal. But as many have noted, the President previously praised Comey for those same actions, often while his crowds chanted, “Lock her up!” The claim the President fired Comey now for actions he took six months ago is perhaps implausible. But the notion that this President fired Comey because Comey was unfair to Hillary Clinton is laughable.

The White House also claimed the firing was necessary because Comey had lost the support and confidence of the rank and file members of the FBI. This was flatly contradicted by the now-acting director and Comey’s former chief deputy, Andrew McCabe, in testimony before the Senate Intelligence committee.

Then there is the shifting narrative about how the decision was made. The White House originally claimed the President acted based on a recommendation from newly-appointed Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein. When Rosenstein apparently objected (and perhaps threatened to resign), the President began saying he had decided to fire Comey on his own, prior to any recommendation.

Conflicting, shifting, and apparently untrue explanations for the President’s actions could provide compelling circumstantial evidence of corrupt intent. Often such evidence suggests the truth is something more sinister that the defendant wants to conceal.

The news that Trump asked Comey to drop the investigation provides significant additional circumstantial evidence of corrupt intent. The narrative then becomes that Trump first urged Comey to back off, and when that failed, he fired him. Reports that Trump asked others to leave the meeting before he spoke to Comey further suggest he knew he was doing something improper.

This theory is bolstered by the reports that senior White House officials had asked intelligence officials about intervening with Comey to see if they could ask him to shut down the Russia investigation. If those reports could be substantiated they would provide further evidence that the purpose of firing Comey was not to remove an ineffective leader or help the FBI but to thwart the Russia investigation.

The Defense: Lack of Corrupt Intent

Despite all of the above, this would not be a slam-dunk prosecution. When I first wrote this post after Comey was fired, I thought a potential criminal case would be very challenging. The news that has come out since then — including the Holt interview, the Oval Office meeting with the Russians, and the White House inquiries about possibly asking Comey to shut down the investigation — has made the case considerably stronger.

Proving to a unanimous jury beyond a reasonable doubt that the President acted with corrupt intent would still be challenging. If the information in all the press reports could be verified and translated into admissible evidence, I think a prosecutor could build a pretty decent case. But the defense would have a lot to work with as well.

First there’s the fact that the President clearly has the right to fire the FBI director. Comey himself, in his letter to FBI personnel following his dismissal, noted his belief that the President could fire him at any time and for any reason. That’s not an ironclad defense, of course. If something you have the right to do is done for a corrupt purpose it can still be obstruction. But prosecutors could not raise an inference of corrupt intent based solely on the nature of the President’s actions.

In addition, as the President has already pointed out, many people, both Democrats and Republicans, believed there were good grounds to fire Comey based on his actions over the past year. This would help raise a reasonable doubt about corrupt intent.

The President’s defense also would claim that his actions were too remote from the Russia investigation to constitute obstruction. The Supreme Court has held that acts are not obstruction unless they would have the “natural and probable effect” of influencing the proceeding if successful. In an institution as large as the FBI, removing the director may be unlikely to derail any one investigation. Indeed, acting director McCabe assured Congress this was the case and that the investigation will proceed unimpeded.

The Significance of Trump’s Own Statements

Some commentators have claimed the President basically admitted to obstruction by telling Lester Holt the “Russia thing”  was on his mind when he fired Comey. This is an overreach. Saying the President was thinking in part about the Russia investigation is not at all the same as saying he acted with the corrupt intent to obstruct that investigation.

This is a fine distinction, but a critical one. The President could fire Comey because he was mad about Comey’s handling of the Russia investigation and still not intend to obstruct that investigation. If the President believed (probably correctly) the investigation would continue unimpeded without Comey, he would lack the requisite intent to obstruct. Even if he was just mad at Comey and didn’t think at all about the effect on the investigation, that too would mean he lacked corrupt intent.

Later in the same NBC interview Trump also said he wanted the investigation to be done properly. Trump could argue that because Comey had become ineffective as a leader, firing him actually made it more likely the investigation would be successful.

Trump’s statements to the Russian officials about relieving “pressure” by firing Comey are also open to more than one interpretation. Based on the White House statements following the story, it appears Trump would argue that Comey’s mishandling of the investigation was disrupting the President’s attempts to forge better diplomatic relations with the Russians. When he referred to relieving pressure, the defense would argue, the President was referring to this interference with his diplomacy, not to the criminal investigation.

Some of these alternative explanations may seem implausible. I can see eyes rolling from here. But remember the President would not need to prove he acted without corrupt intent. The burden of proof always rests with the government. The defense would only need to raise a reasonable doubt about the President’s intent.

Every prosecutor has had the experience of having what seemed like a stone cold admission by a defendant be completely undermined by a plausible alternative explanation. I’m not trying to bend over backwards to provide excuses for the President’s statements. I’m simply acknowledging the difficulties that prosecutors can face when trying to prove guilt based on statements and circumstances that may be open to different interpretations.

Trump’s Alleged Request to Drop the Investigation

The new reports that President Trump asked Comey to drop the Flynn investigation provide significant additional evidence of possible obstruction of justice. But there are still some unresolved questions. First, the White House has denied Comey’s claims. Unless the rumored Oval Office tapes show up, the details of the meeting would be contested. Comey’s contemporaneous notes would carry significant weight, but disputes about the details and precisely what Trump said and how he said it could be important.

The President is the head of the Executive Branch and was Comey’s boss. How does that affect the question of corrupt intent? On some level the President does have the right to tell the FBI director what to do, just as he has the right to fire him.

There are long-standing norms and traditions about Justice Department independence and the White House not interfering in DOJ investigations. Trump’s alleged conversation with Comey seems to have trampled all over those norms. But whether breaching those norms amounts to a crime is a different question.

Trump’s meeting with Comey is the incident that so far sounds the most like true obstruction. But it may depend on further information about Trump’s own involvement in any underlying misconduct. If it turns out Trump wanted the Flynn case dropped because he feared it would lead to him, that sounds like corrupt intent. But if Trump was not implicated and was simply genuinely concerned that his friend was being treated unfairly, that could suggest the conversation was perhaps improper and unwise but not criminal.

In response to reports about the meeting with Comey, the White House responded by saying essentially “this is just the way the President talks.” In other words, it was an offhand remark expressing his concern about Flynn, not a calculated effort to influence Comey. This is a version of a defense of lack of corrupt intent, and it may be perfectly plausible. The President simply may not have appreciated the impact such an offhand statement could have when it comes from the leader of the free world and the FBI director’s boss.

In situations such as the Comey meeting a great deal also depends on things like nuance, tone, and body language. Was the statement made in a menacing way or in an offhand way? How did Comey interpret it? Information like that does not come across in a memo to the file and would depend on Comey’s testimony about the meeting.

There’s Obstruction, and then There’s Obstruction

In a criminal investigation of possible obstruction a grand jury could subpoena additional witnesses and documents. Perhaps prosecutors could develop stronger evidence of corrupt intent. The case would depend not on any one incident in isolation but on the pattern of the President’s actions. The circumstantial evidence is mounting, but a lot would need to be done to shore up that evidence. Prosecutors would need to establish that some of the things reported in the press actually took place and could be proven at trial.

The reality is that a criminal prosecution of President Trump is unlikely. Although it’s never been officially settled, most authorities – including the DOJ — believe the Constitution prohibits the prosecution of a sitting President. The scene where Trump is handcuffed and perp-walked out of the Oval Office is not going to happen.

But I think when most people accuse Trump of “obstructing justice,” they are not focused on the elements of a specific criminal statute. Through a series of actions (including the events discussed above, a request that Comey pledge his loyalty, asking Comey whether he was under investigation, and his subsequent Tweet about Comey that many interpreted as a threat) Trump appears to have violated fundamental constitutional and political norms concerning the rule of law and limitations on executive power. Trump’s actions may obstruct justice in this broader, structural sense even if not in a strictly legal one.

As with violations of the Constitution’s Emoluments Clause, the primary remedy for this obstruction would be political. Political remedies include elections, where the voters have a chance to register their disapproval. They also include impeachment, which is available for “high crimes and misdemeanors.” This is generally interpreted to mean misconduct related to public office, not necessarily precise criminal violations. Charges of obstruction of justice were central to the articles of impeachment of both Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton.

Impeachment is primarily a political proceeding rather than a legal one. Congress does not need to establish proof beyond a reasonable doubt of all elements of a crime the way a prosecutor does. Disregard of basic constitutional and political norms could fall short of a criminal offense and still justify impeachment. It’s up to the Members of Congress to decide whether misconduct rises to a level that would justify removing the President. For now, a great deal of additional investigation is needed before Congress could make those decisions.

As was true with alleged perjury by Attorney General Jeff Sessions, critics have been quick to accuse the President of a crime. But as I’m always telling my students, there is a lot of sleazy, unethical, and improper conduct that isn’t criminal. Trump’s potential interference with an ongoing investigation raises grave concerns. But the likely remedy lies with the political process, not a criminal prosecution.

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Judge Gorsuch, White Collar Crime, and the Legacy of Justice Scalia

The confirmation battle over Neil Gorsuch, President Trump’s pick to fill the vacant seat on the U.S. Supreme Court, promises to be ugly. All aspects of his record will be thoroughly dissected — and likely distorted — by both political parties. Looming over the proceeding is Democratic anger over the Merrick Garland nomination and the threat of Republican Senators to invoke the “nuclear option” to break any Democratic filibuster. It’s destined to be one of those political knife fights that reminds everyone why they hate Washington.

Partisans on both sides will be trying to predict how a Justice Gorsuch might rule on any number of hot-button issues. But here at Sidebars we are particularly interested in how Gorsuch’s presence on the Supreme Court might influence the law of white collar crime. So I spent some time this week reading opinions written by Judge Gorsuch on the 10th Circuit Court of Appeals in cases involving white collar offenses such as mail and wire fraud, public corruption, obstruction of justice and money laundering, to see if I could glean anything from those decisions.

I didn’t find anything particularly remarkable. Most of the white collar cases where Judge Gorsuch wrote the opinion for a three-judge panel ruled in favor of the government, but that’s true of most criminal appeals. Most of the decisions were unanimous. That’s also not unusual, but at least it suggests a judge who generally colors within the lines of established precedent and is not a bomb-thrower writing dissents advocating extreme positions.

One thing I definitely learned is that Judge Gorsuch is indeed a terrific writer, as many others have noted. His opinions are clear, concise, and free of legal jargon. They are a pleasure to read, which is saying something when it comes to judicial opinions. In that regard he reminds me of Justice Kagan, in my view currently the best writer on the Court. That’s something I really admire — although I guess if you fear a Justice Gorsuch is going to gut your fundamental liberties it’s cold comfort to know he’ll do it with great style and clarity.

In any event, it appears unlikely that any of Judge Gorsuch’s opinions in white collar cases will be particularly controversial or a focus of his confirmation hearing. But that doesn’t mean there is nothing we can learn about how Justice Gorsuch might approach such cases at the high court.

Those who have studied or worked with Judge Gorsuch and know him best describe him as a judge in the mold of Antonin Scalia, the Justice whose seat he would assume. The opinions and other materials I reviewed certainly support that characterization. And if Justice Gorsuch does follow in the footsteps of Justice Scalia when it comes to criminal law, it could lead to some interesting and potentially surprising results.

Antonin_Scalia_Official_SCOTUS_Portrait

Justice Scalia’s White Collar Legacy

When it comes to Justice Scalia and criminal law, it’s complicated. Although conservative, he was definitely not a “hanging judge” ruling against criminal defendants at every opportunity. On the contrary, Scalia’s strict approach to statutory and constitutional interpretation often resulted in decisions that favored criminal defendants – and often led him to side with some of the most liberal members of the Court.

In constitutional law, Justice Scalia’s originalist approach made him suspicious of expansive notions of government power and protective of the rights of criminal defendants embodied in the text of the Constitution. In areas such as the right of defendants to confront witnesses against them (for example, Crawford v. Washington), the right to a jury trial (Blakely v. Washington), and the right to be free from unreasonable searches and seizures (Florida v. Jardines and Kyllo v. United States, for example), Scalia was a powerful voice warning against government encroachment on these fundamental constitutional liberties. On the other hand, when it came to doctrines he considered judicial inventions not found in the text of the Constitution – such as the exclusionary rule and right to Miranda warnings – he was much less sympathetic.

White collar cases more often involve the interpretation of statutes, not the Constitution. And white collar statutes are notorious for being broad and somewhat vague, using sometimes fuzzy terms such as “fraud” that are not otherwise defined. Justice Scalia authored a number of significant white collar opinions and dissents. His strict textualist approach generally led him to read white collar statutes narrowly. He was skeptical of prosecutors’ attempts to fashion expansive theories of criminal liability not directly spelled out in the statutes. Some Justices are much more willing to hold that courts should flesh out the parameters of broadly-worded criminal laws; Scalia insisted that crimes had to be specifically defined by Congress, not by judges.

For example, Justice Scalia was a long-time critic of a popular species of mail and wire fraud known as honest services fraud. Frequently used in prosecution of state and local corruption, it charges that victims were defrauded not of money or property but of their intangible right to the honest services of a politician or other individual who owed them a duty. Justice Scalia maintained throughout his career that the idea of “honest services” was too amorphous to support criminal liability and failed to provide adequate notice about what conduct was prohibited.

In Skilling v. United States in 2010 the Court responded to vagueness concerns by narrowing honest services fraud liability to cases involving bribes and kickbacks. Justice Scalia wrote a separate opinion arguing that the Court should go further and declare the honest services fraud statute unconstitutionally vague in all circumstances. (He even referred to it as “so-called honest services fraud,” a locution that President Trump might appreciate.)

In another leading mail fraud case, Schmuck v. United States (yes, that’s the real name), the issue was whether the mailings proved by the prosecution actually furthered the scheme to defraud as required by the statute. The majority adopted a broad reading of the “in furtherance” requirement and upheld the convictions. Justice Scalia dissented, criticizing the prosecution for what he deemed an overly-expansive view of the mail fraud statute. His opinion arguing that the defendant’s convictions should be reversed was joined by Justices Brennan and Marshall, two of the most liberal Justices of the 20th century.

Justice Scalia similarly favored a narrow reading of a public corruption theory called extortion under color of official right under the Hobbs Act. In 1992 in Evans v. United States, the majority held that extortion under color of official right was basically equivalent to bribery. Justice Scalia joined a dissent by Justice Thomas arguing that bribery and extortion are distinct crimes and that the majority opinion wrongfully resulted in a vast expansion of federal criminal law and the power of federal prosecutors.

Of course, strict interpretation of the statute sometimes meant the defendant lost. For example, Brogan v. United States involved the false statements statute that criminalizes lying to the government about material matters. Lower courts had created an exception to the statute, known as the “exculpatory no,” holding that prosecution could not be based on a defendant’s mere denial of guilt. Justice Scalia wrote the majority opinion holding the text of the statute contains no such exception and stating “[c]ourts may not create their own limitations on legislation, no matter how alluring the policy arguments for doing so . . . .” (He also noted the defendant’s concession that “under a ‘literal reading’ of the statute he loses.” If you had made that concession and then saw that Justice Scalia was writing the opinion in your case, you knew it was not going to be a good day.)

Recently in Yates v. United States the defendant was charged with obstruction of justice, a twenty-year felony, for throwing overboard some undersized fish that were evidence he had violated fishing regulations. During oral argument Justice Scalia expressed outrage that the government had brought such a case. But in the end he refused to join the five-Justice majority reversing the conviction on the questionable ground that fish were not “tangible objects” within the meaning of the law. Instead he joined with Justice Kagan in dissent, arguing that the plain wording of the statute compelled a ruling in favor of the government. He clearly thought the prosecution was misguided, but did not believe the solution was for the Court to adopt a strained interpretation of the statute that was contrary to its plain language.

gorsuch

Judge Gorsuch and White Collar Crime

Would Justice Gorsuch channel Justice Scalia when it comes to white collar crime? It’s always a bit dicey trying to predict how a judge would behave on the Supreme Court based on his appellate opinions. Appellate judges, of course, are bound by Supreme Court precedent, so they generally don’t have the same freedom and opportunities to decide novel legal questions. But there is reason to believe Justice Gorsuch’s approach would indeed look a lot like Justice Scalia’s.

Judge Gorsuch shares Justice Scalia’s belief in strict construction of the Constitution according to the intent of its framers. In a widely-quoted concurrence in Cordova v. City of Albuquerque, he wrote:

Ours is the job of interpreting the Constitution. And that document isn’t some inkblot on which litigants may project their hopes and dreams . . .  but a carefully drafted text judges are charged with applying according to its original public meaning.

Judge Gorsuch also appears to share the concerns of Justice Scalia about overcriminalization and sweeping criminal statutes that may place too much power in the hands of prosecutors. In a law review article in 2010 Judge Gorsuch wrote: “What happens to individual freedom and equality—and to our very conception of law itself—when the criminal code comes to cover so many facets of daily life that prosecutors can almost choose their targets with impunity?”

Judge Gorsuch’s strict textualist approach to statutory interpretation has occasionally led him, as it did Justice Scalia, to rulings that narrowly interpret criminal statutes and favor criminal defendants. One example involves a statute that makes it a crime for an individual with a felony conviction to possess a firearm, 18 U.S.C. § 922(g)(1). The 10th Circuit has agreed with the majority of courts of appeal that the government in such a case needs to prove only that the defendant knew he possessed a gun and does not need to prove the defendant knew he had a felony conviction.

Judge Gorsuch disagrees. In a classic Scalia-esque statutory interpretation argument, he has argued that the plain language of the statute requires the government to prove both – an interpretation that, if adopted, would favor defendants and place a heavier burden on the government. In one of the cases, United States v. Games-Perez, notice Judge Gorsuch’s language in his concurrence expressing disagreement with his colleagues:

Our duty to follow precedent sometimes requires us to make mistakes. Unfortunately, this is that sort of case. . . .

I recognize that precedent compels me to join the court’s judgment. But candor also compels me to suggest that we might be better off applying the law Congress wrote than the one [the court’s earlier decision] hypothesized. It is a perfectly clear law as it is written, plain in its terms, straightforward in its application. Of course, if Congress wishes to revise the plain terms of [the statute] it is free to do so anytime. But there is simply no right or reason for this court to be in that business.

Those final two sentences could have been lifted straight out of a Justice Scalia opinion: the statute says what it says, and if there’s a problem it is up to Congress to fix it, not the court.

But what a marked contrast to the writing style of Justice Scalia, who was famous for disagreeing with his colleagues in the most sarcastic and acerbic terms. In addition to being a gifted writer, Judge Gorsuch displays much more of a traditional judicial temperament than the man he would replace.

Later, dissenting from a denial of a rehearing en banc in the same case, Judge Gorsuch wrote a impassioned defense of the right of criminal defendants to be convicted only if the government proves every element of the offense: “There can be few graver injustices in a society governed by the rule of law than imprisoning a man without requiring proof of his guilt under the written laws of the land.”

Another 10th Circuit case, United States v. Makkar, involved a prosecution under the analogous drug act, which criminalizes selling substances that mimic a listed controlled substance. In another pro-defendant decision, Judge Gorsuch reversed the convictions and held that the plain language of the statute requires the government to prove the analogous substance had the same chemical structure as the controlled substance, not merely that it had the same effects on the user.

In addition to strictly interpreting criminal statutes, Judge Gorsuch, like Justice Scalia, has a history of holding prosecutors’ feet to the fire and insisting they play by the rules. For example, in United States v. Farr, a tax fraud case, Judge Gorsuch ruled in favor of the defendant and held that prosecutors had improperly convicted him under a theory of tax fraud different from the one that was charged in the indictment.

In a case that might be of interest in the current political environment, Judge Gorsuch also wrote the opinion in United States v. Hasan, reversing the perjury conviction of a Somali refugee. He ruled the trial court had erred by finding the defendant was not entitled to an interpreter when testifying in the grand jury. This was under the extremely deferential “plain error” standard of review, and it would have been easy for an appellate judge simply to defer to the judgment of the trial court. If opponents try to portray Judge Gorsuch as a cold-hearted conservative who cares nothing about the most vulnerable among us, we might see this opinion trotted out in response.

Overall, Judge Gorsuch’s opinions related to criminal law are largely uncontroversial and closely adhere to governing precedent. He definitely takes a strict approach to the interpretation of texts. He does not appear to be results-oriented and will not hesitate to rule against the government and in favor of a criminal defendant if he believes that is required. His approach to criminal law in general and white collar crime in particular does seem to be very similar to Justice Scalia’s.

At least as far as criminal law is concerned, Democrats thinking about opposing his nomination should probably consider they could do a lot worse.

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White Collar Crime, Prosecutorial Discretion, and the Supreme Court

Does the Supreme Court still believe in prosecutorial discretion? A string of cases over the past few years has to make you wonder.

Prosecutorial discretion – the power to decide whether to bring criminal charges, who to charge, what crimes to charge, and how ultimately to resolve the case – is a fundamental component of the criminal justice system. The legislature enacts the laws but the executive branch enforces them, which includes making judgments about when and how to bring a criminal case.

On the macro level, this means setting national and local law enforcement priorities and making decisions about the deployment of finite prosecutorial resources. Different administrations at different times have declared areas such as health care fraud, narcotics, illegal immigration, or terrorism to be top priorities and have allocated resources accordingly. Such decisions necessarily mean other areas will not receive as much attention; a dollar spent fighting terrorism is a dollar that can’t be spent investigating mortgage fraud.

On the micro level, prosecutorial discretion involves deciding whether to pursue criminal charges in a given case and what charges to pursue. Factors such as the nature of the offense, strength of the evidence, the nature and extent of any harm, adequacy of other potential remedies, any mitigating circumstances or remedial efforts by the accused, and prosecutorial resources and priorities all may come into play.

For federal prosecutors, policies governing how they should exercise this discretion are set forth in the U.S. Attorneys’ Manual, and in particular in the Principles of Federal Prosecution. The Principles contain detailed guidance concerning when to bring charges, what kind of charges to bring, and how to handle criminal cases, in order to “promote the reasoned exercise of prosecutorial discretion by attorneys for the government.” USAM 9-27.110.

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Prosecutorial Discretion and White Collar Crime

Prosecutorial discretion is particularly important in white collar crime. With non-white collar, or “street” crimes, the parameters of the offense tend to be more clearly defined and charging decisions often are more black and white. If there is a body on the street with nine bullets in it, you pretty clearly have a homicide. If authorities can identify who did it, that person will almost certainly be charged. The prosecutor is not likely to say, “Due to our limited resources and other priorities, we’ll take a pass on this one and let the victim’s family file a civil suit instead” – not if the prosecutor wants to keep her job, anyway.

But white collar crime is full of gray areas. White collar prosecutors deal with sometimes nebulous concepts such as “fraud” and “corruption,” and white collar statutes are written in notoriously broad and general terms. As a result, it often falls much more to the prosecutor to determine whether something is a crime at all and to decide what kind of conduct merits a prosecution.

For example, suppose a hedge fund goes belly-up, and the investors who lost their money claim they were misled about their investment. Was it fraud, or was it merely aggressive – maybe even sleazy – sales tactics followed by incompetence, mismanagement, or just bad luck? Unlike a homicide, robbery, or drug case, at the outset it may not be clear that a crime has been committed. A prosecutor might well conclude, “If I investigated this for two years, perhaps at the end I would have a provable criminal fraud case – but perhaps not. Given my resources and priorities, I’m going to focus on other cases and let the SEC and private plaintiffs pursue civil and administrative penalties in this one.”

Given these potential gray areas, what’s the best way to deter and prosecute white collar crime? Imagine two different regimes. In System #1, Congress drafts broad statutes that proscribe conduct such as fraud in general terms, in order to encompass as much potentially criminal conduct as possible. It is left to the Executive Branch, through prosecutors, to enforce those statutes and determine which cases to pursue – with that discretion tempered, of course, by the oversight of the courts.

In System #2, Congress tries to write very precise and detailed statutes that are as specific as possible in defining the prohibited conduct. Such white collar statutes would leave fewer gray areas and less room for prosecutorial discretion – in other words, they would be more like street crimes. The downside of such a system would be that it necessarily creates loopholes: the more precisely you define criminal concepts like fraud, the greater the opportunity for individuals engaged in what should be criminal conduct to skirt the law’s prohibitions.

Historically, white collar criminal law has been closer to System #1: broad statutes prohibit things like fraud or corruption, and prosecutors are entrusted to exercise their discretion to determine how to apply those laws. But in a series of decisions over the past few years, the Supreme Court has signaled it is becoming increasingly uncomfortable with such a system. These decisions have limited several significant white collar statutes, moving us closer to System #2 – although with laws narrowed by the Court rather than by Congress. In the process, the Court has removed discretion from the hands of prosecutors while also making it more difficult to prosecute some criminal conduct.

The Supreme Court Limits Prosecutorial Discretion

The first such case was Skilling v. United States in 2010. Skilling involved the proper interpretation of 18 U.S.C. § 1346, which prohibits schemes to deprive another of the “intangible right of honest services.” Honest services fraud, a species of mail and wire fraud, has been around for decades. Most cases of honest services fraud have involved relatively straightforward allegations of corruption such as bribery, kickbacks, and conflicts of interest.

But prosecutors in some cases stretched the boundaries of the theory, using honest services fraud to prosecute, for example, a university professor who helped students plagiarize work to obtain degrees to which they were not entitled; an IRS employee who improperly browsed through certain tax returns but did nothing with the information; state officials who awarded public sector jobs based on political patronage; and a state official who failed to disclose a potential conflict of interest when state law did not require disclosure. Some of these schemes seemed wrong or dishonest but were far from traditional criminal corruption. The confusion over what actually qualified as a deprivation of honest services led Justice Scalia to argue in 2009 that the law was in a state of “chaos.”

The Supreme Court finally attempted to bring some order out of this chaos in Skilling. The defendant, former Enron CEO Jeff Skilling, argued that the honest services statute should be struck down as unconstitutionally vague, but the Court disagreed. Instead, it limited the law to what it deemed the core of honest services fraud: cases involving bribery and kickbacks.

The holding in Skilling dramatically narrowed the scope of honest services fraud. This successfully removed prosecutors’ ability to use the theory in innovative ways to charge more unusual schemes. But the limitation also created safe harbors for certain conduct, such as self-dealing by elected officials, that is plainly corrupt but may no longer be charged as a violation of honest services.

In 2014, the Supreme Court decided Bond v. United States. (Although not really a white collar case, Bond is instructive as part of the same trend at the Court.) In Bond a jilted wife tried to injure her husband’s lover by sprinkling some caustic chemicals on her mailbox and doorknob. The chemicals caused only a slight skin irritation on the woman’s thumb that was easily treated with cold water. Federal prosecutors subsequently charged Bond using a felony statute that prohibits the use of chemical weapons and carries a penalty of “any term of years” in prison.

The Court ultimately held that the statute did not apply to Bond’s conduct. But an undercurrent of the case was the Court’s obvious concern over the government’s decision to apply a federal law aimed at preventing the horrors of chemical warfare to such a trivial incident. During oral argument, Justice Kennedy told the Solicitor General that it “seems unimaginable that you would bring this prosecution.” Justice Alito remarked, “If you told ordinary people that you were going to prosecute Ms. Bond for using a chemical weapon, they would be flabbergasted.”

This trend continued in 2015 with Yates v. United States. Yates was a commercial fisherman working in the Gulf of Mexico. A fish and wildlife officer boarded his boat to conduct a routine inspection and ended up citing him for having several dozen red grouper on board that were slightly smaller than the legal limit – a civil violation. The officer told Yates to keep the fish until he returned to port, where they would be seized and destroyed. Once the officer left his boat, however, Yates instructed a crew member to throw the undersized fish overboard and replace them with larger ones.

When this ultimately came to light, prosecutors charged Yates with three crimes including obstruction of justice under 18 U.S.C. § 1519, a twenty-year felony. That law prohibits the destruction of “tangible objects” in an effort to obstruct a federal investigation. Captain Yates argued before the Supreme Court that fish were not “tangible objects” within the meaning of this statute. The Court ultimately ruled in his favor, but only by adopting what I believe was an unnatural and strained interpretation of the law.

But Yates is actually more significant for what it revealed about the Court’s views on prosecutorial discretion and charging decisions. During oral argument, the Justices were clearly disturbed by the application of a twenty-year felony to this fish-dumping episode. Justice Scalia asked what kind of “mad prosecutor” would charge Yates with a twenty-year offense, and sarcastically suggested perhaps it was the same prosecutor who had charged Bond with a chemical weapons violation. Later in the oral argument Justice Kennedy remarked, “It seems to me that we should just not use the concept [prosecutorial discretion] or refer to the concept at all anymore.”

The Court’s skepticism about prosecutorial discretion surfaced again this past spring in McDonnell v. United States. In reversing the corruption convictions of the former Virginia governor, the Court adopted a narrow definition of “official act” for purposes of federal bribery law. At oral argument and in its opinion the Court imagined federal prosecutors targeting elected officials for simply attending a lunch where a supporter bought them a bottle of wine, or for attending a ballgame as the guest of homeowners who earlier had sought the official’s help.

The narrow definition of “official act,” the Court concluded, was necessary to prevent politically-motivated prosecutions and the criminalization of routine political courtesies. But critics of the Court’s decision – including me – argue that the result is to shield a great deal of corrupt conduct that is precisely what the law of bribery aims to prevent.

The Future of Prosecutorial Discretion

In these recent cases, when faced with the interpretation of white collar crimes such as bribery, honest services fraud, and obstruction of justice, the Court’s approach has been to interpret the statutes narrowly and consequently to remove charging discretion from federal prosecutors. A moment during the Yates oral argument is particularly illuminating. The Justices asked Assistant Solicitor General Roman Martinez what guidance prosecutors followed when deciding what kind of charges to bring, and that led to this exchange:

MR.MARTINEZ:  Your Honor, the ­. . . my understanding of the U.S. Attorney’s Manual is that the general guidance that’s given is that the prosecutor should charge ­­once the decision is made to bring a criminal prosecution, the prosecutor should charge the ­­the offense that’s the most severe under the law. That’s not a hard and fast rule, but that’s kind of the default principle.  In this case that was Section 1519.

JUSTICE SCALIA:  Well, if that’s going to be the Justice Department’s position, then we’re going to have to be much more careful about how extensive statutes are.  I mean, if you’re saying we’re always going to prosecute the most severe, I’m going to be very careful about how severe I make statutes.

MR. MARTINEZ:  Your Honor, that’s ­­. . .

JUSTICE SCALIA:  Or ­­how much coverage I give to severe statutes.

MR. MARTINEZ:  That’s ­­– that’s not what we were saying.  I think we’re not always going to prosecute every case, and obviously we’re going to exercise our discretion. . . .

As Martinez attempted to point out, the real-world exercise of prosecutorial discretion is far more nuanced than Justice Scalia suggested. It’s true that the Principles of Federal Prosecution provide as a general rule – as they have for decades – that once a decision to bring charges is made a prosecutor generally should charge “the most serious offense that is consistent with the nature of the defendant’s conduct, and that is likely to result in a sustainable conviction.” USAM 9-27.300. But the Principles also recognize the need for prosecutors to consider the nature and circumstances of a particular case, the purpose of criminal law, and law enforcement priorities. What charges are “consistent with the nature of the defendant’s conduct” is also a matter of judgment and discretion. And of course considerable discretion also is involved earlier in the process, when deciding whether to bring charges at all.

But this exchange suggests the Court may believe it needs to interpret criminal statutes more narrowly because it cannot always trust prosecutors to exercise sound judgment when enforcing broadly-written statutes. As Justice Kennedy suggested during the Yates argument, it may be that the Court no longer thinks of prosecutorial discretion as a viable concept.

Of course, some critics of federal prosecutors will welcome this development and suggest it is long overdue. And some will point out that, for prosecutors, this may be considered a self-inflicted wound. The charging decisions in cases like Yates and Bond in particular may be what led the Justices openly to question whether prosecutors should continue to be entrusted with the same degree of discretion.

But it would be unfortunate if the Justices truly come to believe they cannot rely on prosecutors to exercise sound judgment in charging decisions. One can always argue about the merits of particular cases, but overall our system of broadly-written statutes enforced by the sound exercise of prosecutorial discretion has worked pretty well. If the Court continues to chip away at those statutes due to concerns about controlling prosecutors, it will continue to create safe harbors for some conduct that is clearly criminal.

It’s particularly inappropriate for the Court to limit these statutes based on hypotheticals that have no basis in reality, as it did in McDonnell. When we start seeing widespread prosecutions of politicians for accepting legal campaign contributions and attending Rotary Club breakfasts, then maybe we can talk about the need to curb prosecutorial discretion. But simply because we can imagine a parade of horribles based on the broad terms of a white collar statute does not mean that prosecutors are actually marching in that parade.

At the McDonnell oral argument, Justice Breyer noted that narrowing the definition of bribery might mean that a certain amount of corrupt conduct will go unpunished. Unfortunately, for now that appears to be a risk the Court is willing to take.

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In Defense of the Grand Jury (Part 2): Grand Jury Secrecy

Imagine you are a criminal defense attorney whose client has received a subpoena to testify before a federal grand jury. You investigate the case, talk with the prosecutor, and gather as much information as you can. You spend hours with your client preparing him for his testimony. You drive to the federal courthouse together and proceed to the grand jury room. The door opens, the foreperson steps out and calls your client, he steps in, and the door closes behind him.

grand jury secrecy is fundamental to the grand jury process

And you remain outside, sitting in an uncomfortable government chair and wondering what’s happening behind those closed doors.

I’ve never practiced criminal defense, but I’ve always imagined this must be one of the strangest parts of the job: staying outside the grand jury room while your client is led into the proverbial lion’s den. It seems contrary to everything in an advocate’s DNA. While your client is in there you can’t object, you can’t cross-examine, and you can’t protect him. Sure, he has a right to come out and talk to you, but he may be reluctant to do that if he thinks it makes him look bad, or he may forget.

And while waiting to see whether he will come out and talk to you there’s not much you can do — except maybe work on today’s Sudoku puzzle for hundreds of dollars an hour.

sudoku

One for my defense attorney friends

One of the most distinctive features of the grand jury is secrecy. Grand jury proceedings take place out of public view and generally remain sealed even after an investigation is concluded. When a witness is testifying no one is present in the grand jury room except the prosecutor, the grand jurors, and the court reporter. When the grand jurors are deliberating over whether to return an indictment there is no one else in the room at all, and the deliberations are not even transcribed. Everyone involved in the process (other than the witness) is sworn to secrecy and prohibited from discussing what goes on in the grand jury room.

This secrecy can lead to mistrust of grand jury proceedings. After all, bad things happen in secret, and much of our government is rightly premised on the belief that sunlight and disclosure are good things. Some argue that this secrecy contributes to the ability of prosecutors to manipulate the grand jurors and convince them to do whatever the prosecutor desires, even if that means indicting a ham sandwich.

These concerns have been amplified in recent state grand jury cases involving investigations of police officers for use of deadly force. When grand juries in Ferguson MO and Staten Island NY failed to indict police officers in the deaths of Michael Brown and Eric Garner, there was widespread criticism and suspicion. Critics claimed that the prosecutors were hiding behind the secret grand jury process and manipulating it in order to avoid indicting police officers with whom they worked closely.

Reacting to such concerns, the state of California last year banned the use of grand juries to investigate cases involving police use of deadly force. California prosecutors in such cases must now decide on their own whether to bring charges.

There’s no doubt that grand jury secrecy contributes to suspicion of the grand jury and to a lack of information and understanding about the grand jury process. But grand jury secrecy is a valuable part of the criminal justice system and serves a number of important goals. Chipping away at that secrecy or prohibiting use of the grand jury in certain types of cases is a bad idea.

shhhh

The Rules Governing Grand Jury Secrecy

In the federal system, grand jury secrecy is spelled out in Federal Rule of Criminal Procedure 6(e). Rule 6(e) provides that, with some limited exceptions, no one involved in the grand jury proceeding (other than a witness) may disclose any “matter occurring before the grand jury.” A knowing violation of Rule 6(e) is punishable as contempt of court, the possible sanctions for which include prison.

Grand jury secrecy is not just some aspirational guideline; federal judges take it extremely seriously. Good prosecutors take it seriously as well, not only because it’s their duty to protect 6(e) material but also because of the potential consequences if they don’t. If newspaper articles about a grand jury investigation attribute leaked information to “government sources,” the prosecutor is likely to receive an order from a judge demanding she appear in court to show cause why she and her colleagues should not be held in contempt – never a fun career prospect.

There has been a lot of litigation over what actually constitutes “matters occurring before the grand jury.” At the core of Rule 6(e)’s protection is information about what actually took place inside the grand jury room itself, including the transcripts of testimony, information about exhibits introduced in the grand jury, and the names of witnesses who appeared. Information that would tend to reveal such matters, such as names of witnesses who are slated to testify or the substance of their expected testimony, may also be covered.

On the other hand, it is clear that Rule 6(e) does not shield all aspects of a criminal investigation. Agents may interview ten or a hundred witnesses for each one who actually testifies in the grand jury, and thousands of documents may be reviewed that never end up as grand jury exhibits. Information that exists as part of the broader investigation is not automatically covered by 6(e). Typically the actual grand jury material will be only a small subset of all information gathered during the overall investigation.

But for everything that is covered by Rule 6(e), it is part of the prosecutor’s job to protect the secrecy of that material. She must ensure that confidentiality is maintained, that grand jury materials are appropriately secure, and that access to those materials is controlled. This obligation does not end once an investigation is over; absent a court order, grand jury materials continue to be protected by Rule 6(e) indefinitely.

This secrecy is one thing that makes the grand jury proceeding fundamentally different from a trial, which usually takes place in public view and with the participation of a judge and defense counsel. And it necessarily means that when the grand jury indicts – or particularly when it fails to indict – the public typically has very little information about the basis for that action.

The Benefits of Grand Jury Secrecy

Grand jury secrecy has a number of important benefits. First, it protects the privacy and reputations of those who may be investigated but ultimately not charged. Many grand jury investigations, particularly in the area of white collar crime, end with no charges being filed. The grand jury is an investigative body, and part of its role is to determine whether probable cause exists to justify criminal charges. Sometimes the answer to that question is no, and the investigation is closed down.

Absent grand jury secrecy, those under investigation in such cases could be subject to months of media reports and speculation about their criminal culpability. Grand jury secrecy prevents their names from being unfairly dragged through the mud concerning a matter where ultimately no criminal charges might be filed. Of course, in some high profile cases such as those involving politicians or celebrities – or police shootings — the investigation is known about and widely reported. But grand jury secrecy prevents public disclosure of grand jury investigations from being the norm.

Grand jury secrecy may also protect the integrity of the investigation itself. In some cases there may be concerns that the targets of the investigation will respond to any inquiry by destroying evidence, tampering with witnesses, fleeing the jurisdiction, or otherwise obstructing justice. If the targets of the investigation are not aware it is going on, such dangers are minimized.

Similarly, there may be concerns that potential defendants will collude to “get their story straight” and present a consistent false version of events to the grand jury. If proceedings were public and witness transcripts were readily available, such efforts would be much easier.

Secrecy also protects the privacy and safety of grand jury witnesses. Absent the guarantee of secrecy, some witnesses would be reluctant to come forward or to be fully forthcoming. Witnesses may fear personal or professional retaliation or even violence based on their testimony. A corporate employee may be extremely reluctant to testify against the company if he knows his boss can review the transcript. Officers in a police corruption investigation may be far less likely to provide information against their fellow officers if they know those officers have access to the testimony.

Even when it is known that a certain witness has testified, grand jury secrecy helps to protect that witness. I recall many occasions, dealing with reluctant or frightened witnesses, when I was able to tell them: “Look, I know you don’t want to be here and are nervous/afraid about testifying. But all you need to do is tell the truth. Your boss/fellow officers/ colleagues will not know what you said. In fact, you can walk out of here and tell them whatever you want – tell them you didn’t say anything, or that you told some completely different story. They won’t know the difference.”

The comfort and insulation that grand jury secrecy provides to frightened or reluctant witnesses is probably the greatest benefit of grand jury secrecy. If witnesses routinely had to testify instead at a public preliminary hearing after a prosecutor filed charges, getting information from reluctant or frightened witnesses would be much more difficult.

Grand Jury Secrecy and the California Legislation

All federal felonies will continue to require a grand jury indictment, but the states are free to experiment with their own systems, consistent with their own laws and constitutions. Apparently California prosecutors already had the option of bypassing the grand jury and filing charges on their own in cases involving a police officer. The new law simply means that now using the grand jury in such a case is not even an option. Once the prosecutor files charges, a preliminary hearing before a judge is held to determine whether the case can go forward.

The law was opposed by California prosecutors and law enforcement officials, and with good reason. In general, grand jury secrecy should make investigations of police officers more effective, not less. Witnesses required to testify in a public preliminary hearing are going to face tremendous public pressure. In the grand jury, witnesses can testify as to what they actually observed without worrying about becoming the subject of a vitriolic social media campaign or having protestors picketing outside their home.

The benefits of secrecy in such cases cut both ways. A civilian witness who would testify in favor of the officer need not fear the reaction and outcry from a public outraged about the case. Similarly, a police officer who would testify against his colleague can do so without fearing the reaction from fellow officers. Particularly in cases where the public passions are running high, grand jury secrecy plays a crucial role in allowing witnesses to resist any perceived public pressures and simply testify as to what happened.

The grand jury also serves as the voice and conscience of the community in such high profile, emotional cases. It’s appropriate to have the facts of such cases presented to representatives of the community as embodied in the grand jury, rather than simply have the charging decision made by a prosecutor. Unless one believes (which I don’t) that grand jurors are all just mindless sheep, the members of the community that make up the grand jury are in the best position to bring the perspective and experiences of that community to bear when evaluating a case.

There was a great deal of criticism of the decision of the Ferguson grand jury not to indict officer Darren Wilson in the shooting of Michael Brown. The sponsor of the California legislation said that the failure to indict in that and other cases had fostered an “atmosphere of suspicion” about grand juries. But the grand jurors were members of the same communities that were so outraged by the shootings. And although the grand jury investigation in Ferguson does appear to have been unorthodox in some ways, an independent investigation by the U.S. Department of Justice also concluded that criminal charges against Wilson were not appropriate. There is no evidence that the grand jury process somehow led to an unjust result.

Charging decisions can’t be made in the heat of the moment, or be based on the outrage of persons who were not on the scene and who form their views of the case largely from media reports. The grand jury process and grand jury secrecy help to ensure that decisions are made with time, care and deliberation, largely free from public pressure and media scrutiny, and based on sworn testimony of those actually involved.

It’s hard to see the rationale for singling out a particular category of crimes or potential defendants and denying them the protections afforded by the grand jury process. Police officers under investigation are entitled to the same procedural rights – including, of course, the presumption of innocence – as other suspects. The grand jury process can play an important role in preserving those rights.

The irony of the California law is that, in the name of increasing transparency, it likely will make it more difficult to gather accurate information in police cases and increase the likelihood of bad charging decisions. There is understandable public concern about cases involving police use of deadly force, and broader concerns about law enforcement in general in a number of communities, including Ferguson. But the response to those concerns should not be to prohibit the use of an institution that has been a valuable component of our criminal justice system for centuries.

Update: On January 10, 2017, a California Appeals Court struck down the legislation discussed in this post, holding that prohibiting the use of grand juries in police deadly force investigations violated the California constitution. You can read my update about that case here.

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Click here to read part one of this post, “The Guilty Ham Sandwich.”

Click here to read part three of this post, “Disclosure of Exculpatory Information”

Cover-up Crimes

What do one of baseball’s greatest players, a former senior White House official, a domestic diva and Fortune 500 CEO, and a former Speaker of the House all have in common?

This is not the beginning of some bad joke about how they all walk into a bar. Barry Bonds, Scooter Libby, Martha Stewart, and Dennis Hastert all were investigated for possible criminal misconduct and ended up being charged not with that misconduct but with other crimes they committed to try to conceal their actions or thwart the investigation.

Barry Bonds was implicated in baseball’s steroids scandal. He ended up being indicted not for using illegal steroids but for perjury and obstruction of justice after allegedly lying in the grand jury about his steroid use. (He was found guilty of one count of obstruction, but that conviction was recently overturned on appeal.)

I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby, who was Chief of Staff to former Vice President Dick Cheney, was implicated in the potentially illegal leak of the identity of a covert CIA agent, Valerie Plame. He was ultimately not charged with the leak but was convicted of perjury, obstruction of justice, and false statements for lying to the grand jury and the FBI about his actions.

Martha Stewart was suspected in 2002 of insider trading after she dumped her stock in a company called Imclone the day before bad news from the FDA caused the stock’s price to plummet. She and her broker Peter Bacanovic ultimately were not indicted for insider trading, but were convicted of multiple counts of false statements, perjury, and obstruction of justice for concocting a phony story about why she sold the stock and then lying to the FBI and SEC.

And Dennis Hastert, the former U.S. Speaker of the House, allegedly had sexual contact with students decades ago while he was working as a high school teacher and coach. He was recently indicted not for any sexual misconduct but for lying to the FBI about his apparent hush-money payments to one of his victims and for structuring his bank transactions to conceal those payments. (Hastert recently pleaded guilty to one count of structuring bank transactions and is awaiting sentencing.)

It’s a legal maxim, particularly in the post-Watergate era, that often the cover-up is worse than the crime. But cover-up crimes are the Rodney Dangerfield of the white collar world: they don’t get any respect. You frequently hear them derided as “gotcha” crimes, or as something prosecutors charge only when they can’t “get” a defendant for anything else. There is a widespread perception that these crimes are somehow less serious than many other white collar offenses.

But the truth is that prosecution of cover-up crimes is vitally important to the proper functioning of the justice system. It’s time these crimes got the respect they deserve.

fingers crossed 2

The Leading Cover-up Crimes

Perjury – 18 U.S.C. §§ 1621, 1623:  Perjury, or lying under oath, is the classic cover-up crime. There are two principal federal statutes: 18 U.S.C. § 1623 applies only in federal judicial and grand jury proceedings, while 18 U.S.C. § 1621 applies in any proceeding where an oath is authorized by law, including Congressional hearings and investigations by agencies such as the SEC.

Perjury requires that the defendant was under oath, made a false statement about something material to the proceeding, and knew that it was false at the time. Mistakes or innocent failures of recollection are not perjury; it requires a knowing lie.

Perjury is the narrowest of the cover-up crimes because of the oath requirement, which sharply limits the types of proceedings in which it applies. It is also notoriously difficult to prosecute. Perjury requires strict proof that the defendant was deliberately lying and that there was no room for confusion, misunderstanding or ambiguity. Pinning down evasive witnesses is not easy. As a result, testimony that is unresponsive or even misleading may not be perjury because nothing is said that is provably false.

A well-known example of this occurred during the investigation of President Bill Clinton, when he denied under oath ever having “sexual relations” with Monica Lewinsky. It was later determined, of course, that the two did have a relationship that was sexual in nature. But the questioner’s convoluted definition of “sexual relations” coupled with a failure to pin Clinton down with follow-up questions resulted in sworn testimony that was potentially misleading but likely not perjury.

False Statements – 18 U.S.C. § 1001:  The false statements statute is perjury’s more sweeping cousin, and broadly criminalizes lying to the government. The statement must be knowingly false, must be in a matter within the jurisdiction of one of the three branches of the federal government, and must be material, or potentially important. Most notably, there is no requirement that the statement be under oath. False statements can also apply to defendants who do not actually lie, but who conceal material facts from the government through a trick, scheme or device when they were under a legal obligation to reveal those facts (such as a reporting requirement created by statute, for example).

Martha Stewart, Scooter Libby, and Dennis Hastert all were charged with false statements for lying to the FBI in unsworn interviews. Lies in government contracting documents, in reports to administrative agencies, in applications for government programs, and in any other communication with the federal government may potentially result in false statements charges.

Obstruction of Justice – 18 U.S.C. §§ 1503, 1505, 1512, 1519:  A number of different statutes apply to obstruction of justice; I’ve listed only the principal ones. They differ in the types of proceedings to which they apply and in some other particulars, but also overlap a great deal. In general, obstruction of justice means the defendant knowingly and wrongfully endeavored to impair, obstruct or impede the due administration of justice in some proceeding.

Obstruction of justice covers a wide variety of conduct, including tampering with witnesses, threatening or injuring judges or jurors, and destroying, altering or concealing evidence. It may also apply to lying to investigators or in official proceedings with the intent to obstruct, and to that extent can overlap with both perjury and false statements. In the cases of Scooter Libby and Martha Stewart, for example, the defendants were charged with false statements for lying to investigators and were also charged with obstruction of justice for an overall pattern of conduct during the investigation that included, among other things, telling those lies.

Decorative Scales of Justice in the library

Prosecution Priorities and Cover-up Crimes

Cases charging cover-up crimes are often met with a reaction that ranges from skepticism to outrage. When Barry Bonds was prosecuted for perjury and obstruction of justice, there was a lot of commentary suggesting that the case was just an attempt by the prosecutors to “get” Bonds for something trivial because they didn’t like him. When Hastert was recently indicted, some suggested the charges were not appropriate and that Hastert was being unfairly singled out. And even more than a decade after her trial, it’s not unusual to hear someone express outrage over the fact that Martha Stewart was prosecuted.

The sense that these are not serious crimes is widespread. I’ll never forget seeing a sitting U.S. Senator on cable news, when the Scooter Libby case was going on, saying something like, “If there are indictments, I hope it’s for a real crime, and that the prosecutors don’t just go after someone on some technicality like perjury.”

But prosecutors certainly don’t see cover-up crimes as mere technicalities or trivial offenses. These often-maligned charges play a number of important roles.

First, when included in a case with other charges, cover-up crimes may provide valuable evidence of criminal intent. In many white collar cases, proof of intent is the critical issue. It’s often pretty clear what happened and who did what; in a contracting fraud case, for example, the paper trail may easily establish that the defendant overbilled the government. The key issue is likely to be not what happened, but why: the defense will claim it was just a mistake or accounting oversight, not a fraud.

Cover-up crimes may provide powerful evidence of intent in such cases: people generally try to conceal their activities when they realize they’ve done something wrong. If the defendant in our contracting case shredded documents when they were subpoenaed, or tried to intimidate a witness, or lied to investigators, those cover-up crimes provide strong evidence of guilty knowledge. The argument is simple: if they thought they did nothing wrong, why did they try to cover it up?

In other cases, cover-up crimes may serve the interest of justice by ensuring that defendants who engaged in criminal conduct that cannot now be prosecuted are still punished. For example, a defendant may have committed crimes that are now outside the statute of limitations, a key witness may have died making prosecution impossible, or some other critical piece of evidence may be unavailable. If during an investigation of that other criminal activity the defendant engages in a cover-up crime, bringing those charges can ensure that the defendant does not entirely escape the criminal consequences of the earlier activity.

Charges in such a case do not unfairly circumvent the statute of limitations. The defendant is not being charged for the original misconduct. But the cover-up crime can be seen as part of an ongoing course of conduct that includes the earlier bad acts; without those acts, there would be nothing to cover up. It’s perfectly appropriate to hold the defendant accountable for the cover-up that arises from earlier misconduct that cannot now be punished — particularly when, as in the Hastert case, for example, that prior misconduct was particularly egregious.

But more fundamentally, even when such considerations are not in play, pursuing cover-up charges plays a crucial role in the criminal justice system. Prosecuting such crimes is important because these offenses strike at the very foundation of the justice system.

The justice system, of course, depends upon the ability of finders of fact to receive all relevant and appropriate information necessary to decide a particular case. Cover-up crimes undermine that ability.

If witnesses lie in the grand jury, lie on the witness stand, destroy evidence, tamper with witnesses, lie to investigators, or otherwise interfere with the due administration of justice, there must be consequences. If not, such behavior becomes the logical choice of anyone who has some reason to fear the truth.

Prosecution of cover-up crimes, by seeking to deter such behavior, preserves the fundamental operation of the justice system itself.   If these crimes took place with impunity it would become impossible to investigate or prosecute anything effectively, whether white collar crime, violent crime, or terrorism. The effective functioning of the justice system depends upon people telling the truth and complying with the system’s lawful demands — and knowing they will pay a price if they do otherwise.

You can bet that every CEO knows what happened to Martha Stewart when she tried to lie her way through an SEC and FBI inquiry. Every government official knows what happened to Scooter Libby when he tried to obstruct an FBI investigation at the highest levels of government and lied about it in the grand jury. Such prosecutions can have a tremendous deterrent effect, and for that reason are tremendously important.

These crimes are not mere technicalities; they seek to preserve those aspects of our justice system upon which all else rests. That’s why prosecutors, who make their living within the justice system and working to further its goals, take these crimes so seriously, even if others do not always agree. And that’s why prosecution of cover-up crimes deserves a little more respect.

dangerfield

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Charges and Issues in the FIFA Indictment

Trying to wade through the indictment in the FIFA criminal case is a bit like reading a Game of Thrones novel: there are so many different characters, schemes, kingdoms and sub-plots that it’s easy to become lost.

The 161-page, 47-count federal indictment was unsealed in the Eastern District of New York last week.  (The DOJ press release and a link to the indictment can be found here.)  It alleges a more than twenty-year history of rampant corruption within the Federation Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), the global soccer organization based in Switzerland.

FIFA’s mission is to develop and promote the sport of soccer internationally. There are 209 member associations, each representing soccer in a particular territory or country.  The individual member associations are grouped into six continental confederate organizations, each of which assists with governing soccer in a different area of the world. For example, CONCACAF, the North American organization, is a major focus of the indictment. It has forty-one members, including the United States Soccer Federation, and is headquartered in Miami.

The indictment charges fourteen defendants: nine current and former FIFA officials, four sports marketing executives, and one man who acted as an intermediary. (A helpful summary describing the different defendants can be found here.)  In addition to the fourteen defendants, the indictment names twenty-five unindicted co-conspirators and describes no fewer than twelve different corruption schemes taking place around the world over the past two decades. FIFA officials are alleged to have accepted more than $150 million in bribes in exchange for being influenced in awarding lucrative marketing and television contracts, rigging FIFA elections, and awarding the right to host soccer’s premier event, the World Cup.

FIFA logo: the FIFA criminal case alleges a global corruption conspiracy

The FIFA Criminal Case

Although it’s lengthy, the bulk of the charges in the indictment fall into only three categories:

  • The Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act (RICO)
  • Money laundering and money laundering conspiracy
  • Wire fraud and wire fraud conspiracy

RICO:  The heart of the indictment is an overarching and massive RICO conspiracy lasting more than twenty years and including all fourteen defendants. RICO was passed in the early 1970’s as part of the effort to battle organized crime. It doesn’t really define a new crime so much as criminalize ongoing and organized patterns of already criminal behavior. Over the years, as a result of its expansive language and some equally expansive Supreme Court decisions, RICO has become essentially a glorified conspiracy statute — although considering its twenty-year penalty and provision for forfeiture, maybe it’s more accurate to call RICO conspiracy on steroids.

The use of RICO in white collar cases is sometimes criticized as unnecessary and heavy-handed; a statute aimed at bringing down the mafia does not really seem called for in most white collar crimes. But the scope and magnitude of the FIFA corruption makes it an ideal RICO case. The powerful RICO statute allows the prosecution to bring in all members of a global criminal conspiracy, along with evidence of the criminal acts they committed all around the world, and prosecute everything in a single location.  Although FIFA, unlike an organized crime family, is not primarily a criminal organization, the scope and depth of the alleged criminal conduct makes it the type of case for which RICO was born.

RICO requires that the defendants participate in the conduct of the affairs of an “enterprise” through a “pattern of racketeering activity.” The enterprise may be a single legal entity, such as a corporation, or it may be a group of individuals or entities “associated in fact” for a common purpose.  In this case, the government has alleged that FIFA and its six continental confederate organizations together form an “association in fact” enterprise, bound together by their common mission of promoting soccer around the world. (Considering FIFA’s global reach, this must be one of the most sweeping RICO enterprises ever charged.)

The “pattern of racketeering activity” element requires that the defendants participated in the conduct of the enterprise’s affairs through a sustained pattern of criminal acts. Here the government charges that the pattern consisted primarily of three types of crimes: bribery and kickbacks, wire fraud, and money laundering.

Wire fraud and wire fraud conspiracy: At its core, the FIFA case is about bribery. But the federal bribery statute applies only to federal government officials and those acting on the government’s behalf. FIFA is a private organization, and even FIFA officials located within the United States would not be covered by the federal bribery law.

Accordingly, to charge bribery of officials within a private sector organization, the indictment relies on honest services wire fraud. The wire fraud statute criminalizes the use of an interstate wire or wireless transmission in furtherance of a “scheme or artifice to defraud.” This commonly involves a scheme to obtain money or property from a victim. However, wire fraud also may be used to charge a defendant who engages in a scheme to deprive another of the intangible right of “honest services.”  Honest services fraud is a popular vehicle for charging bribery involving state or local public officials, as well as private sector bribery.

A duty of honest services arises when there is a relationship of trust and responsibility between the parties that gives rise to special obligations of loyalty and candor that do not arise in ordinary contractual or arms-length relationships. The most common private sector example is the duty of honest services that an employee owes to an employer. Those who accept bribes in exchange for violating that duty may be found to have committed honest services fraud.  (For a more detailed discussion of the law of honest services fraud, see my earlier post here.)

The FIFA officials are charged with violating the duty of honest services that they owed to FIFA and its member organizations by accepting bribe payments in exchange for the exercise of their official powers concerning the awarding of contracts for sports marketing and other decisions. The non-FIFA defendants, as the bribe payers, are similarly charged with causing the FIFA defendants to violate those duties. As a legal matter this is a relatively straightforward application of honest services fraud. There is little doubt that FIFA officials did owe a duty of honest services to the organization, and if they did accept the bribes as alleged it would be a clear violation of that duty.

Wire fraud also requires that there be a wire or wireless transmission in furtherance of the fraud. The indictment relies primarily on bank wire transfers, many of them international and involving U.S. banks, that allegedly were used to facilitate the bribe payments.

Money laundering and money laundering conspiracy:  The money laundering statutes prohibit engaging in financial transactions involving criminal proceeds in order to conceal the nature, origin, source, or ownership of those proceeds, and also prohibit transporting fund across the U.S. border in order to promote certain kinds of criminal activity. The FIFA indictment charges many of the defendants with both kinds of money laundering: they are accused of using various intermediaries, secret bank accounts, shell companies, and other methods to disguise the source and ownership of various bribe payments, and with transmitting funds across the U.S. border to promote their underlying criminal activity of wire fraud.

Once again, if the allegations of the indictment are true, these seem like strong and uncontroversial money laundering charges.

Other charges: Eugenio Figueredo, a current FIFA vice president, alone is charged with falsifying documents in connection with his application for U.S. citizenship and with five counts of tax fraud. And Aaron Davidson, a sports marketing executive, alone is charged with one count of obstruction of justice for alerting other co-conspirators during the grand jury investigation to the possibility that their conversations were being recorded.

 Soccer_ball_on_ground

Other Issues and Questions in the FIFA Case

On the same day the indictment was unsealed, the government also unsealed the guilty pleas and criminal charges of four other individual defendants and two corporations. These guilty pleas date back to mid-2013 and had remained under seal. That suggests the defendants who pleaded guilty likely were cooperating in the investigation for some time, including recording conversations with their co-conspirators. Such evidence can be crucial to building a complicated conspiracy cases and will be very important at trial.

A case this large will take some time to unfold. Seven of the defendants were arrested in Switzerland at the same time the indictment was being unsealed in the United States, and the process of extraditing those defendants alone could take months. One would also expect a number of additional guilty pleas, as other co-conspirators seek to cooperate with the prosecution and reduce their own potential criminal exposure.

It’s noteworthy that the FIFA case is being prosecuted in the United States.  Most of the defendants are not U.S. citizens, and much of the alleged criminal activity took place in other countries. Soccer is not nearly as big in the U.S. as it is in much of the world. One could argue that FIFA corruption should not really be a U.S. priority. But this appears to be one of those, “If not us, then who?” situations – most of the other nations affected simply could not hope to bring such a case. FIFA affects hundreds of millions of people and billions of dollars of economic activity world-wide, and although the corruption was deplored for years, nothing much had been done about it. It took the prosecutorial chops and criminal laws of the U.S. finally to put together such a massive global prosecution.

(As an aside, the Swiss government has opened a separate investigation into allegations of corruption in connection with the selection of the sites for the next two World Cups – Russia in 2018 and Qatar in 2022.  There were immediate cries of foul after the selection of Qatar, a country with a spotty record on human rights and where it gets so hot during World Cup season that soccer balls — not to mention soccer players — are known to melt spontaneously.  It’s hard to understand such a choice unless someone was getting paid off. These specific allegations are not, however, part of the U.S. indictment.)

The Department of Justice has been pretty aggressive in recent years about asserting jurisdiction over criminal acts that took place in other countries, particularly in cases involving terrorism and the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act. That expansive assertion of extraterritorial jurisdiction  has been criticized on occasion. In this case, though, because so many of the corrupt payments went through the U.S. banking system and because of CONCACAF’s location in the U.S., there should be little question about the appropriateness of U.S. criminal jurisdiction.

What I find more interesting is the question of where within the U.S. the case is being prosecuted. The case was investigated and indicted in the Eastern District of New York, the district that covers Long Island and where the new Attorney General, Loretta Lynch, previously served as U.S. Attorney. I’ve seen some commentary suggesting that the E.D.N.Y may have been awarded the case based on its relationship with the new Attorney General, but that doesn’t make much sense. This investigation had been going on in that district for several years, long before anyone knew that Ms. Lynch would be the Attorney General. It’s not as though she moved to D.C. and then decided to hand the prosecution to her former colleagues.

But reviewing the indictment, one is left to wonder how exactly the case ended up where it did. Proper venue in criminal cases is not just a matter of convenience or choice; the Constitution requires that criminal cases be brought in the state in which the offense took place. So although the U.S. may have federal criminal jurisdiction, the question remains which court or courts within the U.S. would have venue.

It appears there would be several other, more logical venues than the E.D.N.Y. For example, CONCACAF, the North American FIFA federation, has its headquarters in Miami (and the FBI executed a search warrant there the day the indictment was unsealed). A number of the bank wire transfers that form the basis of the wire fraud charges also went through Miami banks, and meetings of conspirators and other events are alleged to have taken place there as well. The Southern District of Florida seems a much more logical location for the case.

The Southern District of New York in Manhattan, right next door to the E.D.N.Y., would be another likely venue. When jurisdiction is based in large part on use of the U.S. banking system, the Southern District, as the nation’s financial capital, is often the forum of choice.

The indictment is pretty vague concerning what relationship there is between Brooklyn (the heart of the Eastern District of New York) and the actions of the FIFA co-conspirators. For RICO and the other conspiracy charges, as long as there is at least one overt act in furtherance of the conspiracy within the E.D.N.Y, venue should not be an issue. But for some of the non-conspiracy charges it’s not at all clear on the face of the indictment why venue is proper in the Eastern District of New York.

In some circumstances, if criminal acts do not fall within the jurisdiction of any particular state, venue will be considered proper in any district in which the defendant is first arrested or brought.  Perhaps the government hopes to rely on this argument by ensuring that when the defendants arrested in Switzerland are extradited to the U.S. their plane lands at JFK or LaGuardia – both of which are within the E.D.N.Y.  But it’s unclear whether that argument would be successful.

It’s possible the case ended up where it is partly by accident. The New York Times reported that the case originally arose out of an unrelated investigation in New York concerning Russian organized crime. Perhaps that original unrelated case had a clearer connection to Brooklyn, but once the prosecutors started focusing on the FIFA allegations that emerged they were reluctant to give the case up. Or perhaps, as sometimes happens, there was a “turf battle” between different U.S. Attorney’s offices over which should take the case, and the E.D.N.Y. prevailed. In any event, it’s going to be interesting to see whether any of these venue issues end up forming the basis for defense motions and possible trouble for the prosecution.

*  *  *

It will be fascinating to watch how the FIFA case plays out over the months to come.  For now, the indictment tells a remarkable and gripping tale of worldwide greed and corruption.  Maybe HBO will turn it into a television series — all it needs is a little gratuitous sex and violence.  And maybe a dragon.

dragon

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Barry Bonds Obstruction Case Splinters the Ninth Circuit

Update: on July 21, federal prosecutors announced they would not seek to appeal the Ninth Circuit’s decision to the U.S. Supreme Court, thus bringing the Barry Bonds obstruction of justice case to a close.

Baseball superstar Barry Bonds hit one final home run in the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit last week. An eleven-judge panel threw out Bonds’ 2011 conviction on a single count of obstruction of justice. It was a 10-1 blowout, with only one judge believing that Bonds’ conviction should be upheld, but the case produced five different opinions totaling 75 pages. The amount of ink spilled was a bit remarkable, considering this should have been, as one of the judges put it, a “very simple case.”

In 2003 a grand jury in San Francisco was investigating whether Bonds’ trainer, Greg Anderson, and others had supplied illegal steroids to a number of professional athletes. Bonds was subpoenaed to testify in the grand jury and was granted immunity; prosecutors were not looking to charge him, they were interested in the information he had about Anderson. Ultimately, though, prosecutors concluded that Bonds lied in the grand jury and they indicted him on four counts of perjury and one count of obstruction of justice.

After years of pre-trial maneuvering the case went to trial in 2011. The government dismissed one of the perjury counts during the trial. The other three perjury counts resulted in a hung jury and were ultimately dismissed as well. The jury convicted Bonds only on the single obstruction of justice count.

The jury’s guilty verdict was based on what became known as the “celebrity child” response:

Q: Did Greg ever give you anything that required a syringe to inject yourself with?

A:  I’ve only had one doctor touch me. And that’s my only personal doctor. Greg, like I said, we don’t get into each others’ personal lives. We’re friends, but I don’t we don’t sit around and talk baseball, because he knows I don’t want — don’t come to my house talking baseball. If you want to come to my house and talk about fishing, some other stuff, we’ll be good friends. You come around talking about baseball, you go on. I don’t talk about his business. You know what I mean?

Q:  Right.

A:  That’s what keeps our friendship. You know, I am sorry, but that — you know, that — I was a celebrity child, not just in baseball by my own instincts. I became a celebrity child with a famous father. I just don’t get into other people’s business because of my father’s situation, you see. So, I don’t know — I don’t know — I’ve been married to a woman five years, known her 17 years, and I don’t even know what’s in her purse. I have never looked in it in my lifetime. You know, I just — I don’t do that, I just don’t do it, and you know, learned from my father and throughout his career, you don’t get in no one’s business, you can’t — there’s nothing they can say, you can’t say nothing about them. Just leave it alone. You want to keep your friendship, keep your friendship.

The jury convicted Bonds of obstruction of justice based solely on this exchange. The trial judge upheld the conviction, and so did the initial three-judge panel of the Court of Appeals. That prompted the Court to grant further review by the eleven-judge en banc panel.

scales and gavel

The Five Different Opinions

The statute Bonds was convicted of violating, 18 U.S.C. § 1503(a), punishes anyone who “corruptly . . . influences, obstructs, or impedes, or endeavors to influence, obstruct, or impede, the due administration of justice.” The court’s task was to determine whether a reasonable jury could have found that the “celebrity child” response, standing alone, violated this provision. Most of the judges agreed that the conviction had to be reversed because Bonds’ evasive answer was not “material” to the grand jury’s investigation – but that was where the agreement ended.

1) Chief Judge Kozinski, joined by four other judges, wrote the first opinion. Much of it was devoted to what he claimed are the dangers posed by the “vast” coverage of § 1503. Lawyers, he argued, are at particular risk: “Stretched to its limits, section 1503 poses a significant hazard for everyone involved in our system of justice, because so much of what the adversary process calls for could be construed as obstruction.” Arguing motions, questioning witnesses, or filing pleadings, he said, all could be considered endeavors to influence the due administration of justice and might end up being prosecuted.

The critical limitation on the statute, he argued, comes from the requirement that the obstructive conduct be material – that it had the “natural tendency to influence, or was capable of influencing, the decision of the decision making body.” Although the language of § 1503 (unlike the perjury statute, for example) does not require materiality, Judge Kozinski said Ninth Circuit precedent made materiality an element of the offense. Bonds’ single evasive (but truthful) answer during the course of several hours of testimony could not be considered capable of influencing the decision of the grand jury, and therefore was not material.

2) Judge N.R. Smith wrote the next concurrence, joined by three other judges. Judge Smith argued that the proper standard for materiality was the “nexus” requirement for obstruction cases announced by the Supreme Court in United States v. Aguilar: the conduct must have the “natural and probable effect” of obstructing justice. The “celebrity child” answer failed this nexus requirement because the natural and probable effect of an evasive answer is simply to elicit follow-up questions and clarification, not to obstruct the proceeding.

Judge Smith concluded that evasive or misleading testimony can only amount to obstruction when it completely thwarts the investigation and amounts to a refusal to testify. A single truthful but evasive answer cannot meet this standard.

3) Judge Reinhardt, writing only for himself, added a third concurrence. He disagreed with the unwarranted breadth of Judge Kozinski’s opinion and all of its speculation about the dangers of the statute. On the other hand, he disagreed with Judge Smith that at some point a refusal to testify could amount to obstruction of justice. According to Judge Reinhardt, the proper remedy in such a case would be a prosecution for contempt, not obstruction, and testimony or a refusal to testify alone could not constitute obstruction of justice.

4) Judge Fletcher, also writing only for himself, took a completely different approach. Tracing the history of the statute back to 1831, he argued that the term “corruptly” refers only to obstructing justice through bribery. Because Bonds did not bribe anyone in connection with the grand jury proceeding, his conduct did not violate § 1503.

5) Finally, Judge Rawlinson wrote as the sole dissenter. She argued the jury could have properly found that Bonds intended to obstruct the grand jury’s investigation through his evasive testimony and that the court was improperly second-guessing the jury’s verdict.

Bonds 2

Breaking it Down – What’s the Right Approach?

It’s important to recall that the case before the Court of Appeals was not the case that the prosecutors brought. Much of the Court’s discussion makes it sound as though the prosecutors had indicted Bonds based only on this single evasive answer. In fact Bonds was charged with four counts of perjury and the obstruction of justice count was based on seven different exchanges in the grand jury. But the jury could not agree on the perjury counts and ultimately found that only the single “celebrity child” response constituted obstruction of justice.

To the extent the court’s opinions are seen as admonishing prosecutors for an unduly broad attempted application of § 1503, therefore, that criticism is misplaced. The prosecutors did charge a more substantial case, but were left to defend a verdict that relied only on the single, meandering, non-responsive answer. On appeal the government had to play the hand that the trial jury dealt for them – and it wasn’t a good one.

Judge Kozinski’s opinion, for example, contains a lot of sweeping rhetoric about the potential breadth and dangers of the statute that has nothing to do with the case – or with the real world. The idea that § 1503 makes “everyone who participates in our justice system a potential criminal defendant for conduct that is nothing more than the ordinary tug and pull of litigation” is simply overwrought hyperbole.

White collar crime statutes do tend to be written in broad strokes, because they have to cover a wide range of conduct that may fall within nebulous concepts such as “fraud” or “corruption.” One can always conjure up a parade of horribles that has little or nothing to do with the way the laws are actually enforced. The federal wire fraud statute, for example, would potentially apply to any employee who called in sick in order to go to the ballgame, and yet we don’t see such cases clogging the courts.

The obstruction of justice statute in its current form has been around for more than a hundred years and there has been no epidemic of courtroom advocates being prosecuted based on ordinary, even aggressive, advocacy. Yet Judge Kozinski felt obligated to argue that all lawyers are in danger because the statute potentially “gives prosecutors the immense and unreviewable power to reward friends and punish enemies by prosecuting the latter and giving the former a pass.” This has nothing to do with the facts of the Bonds case or with any existing problem with § 1503 – but it does dovetail nicely with the “bad prosecutor” meme that is so popular among many these days, including Judge Kozinski.

The second flaw in Judge Kozinski’s opinion is that the solution he offers to the statute’s breadth — the requirement of materiality — would do nothing to prevent the prosecutions he purports to fear.  Almost anything done by an advocate in the “ordinary tug and pull of litigation” would have the potential to influence the proceeding and would thus be material.  The reason such cases are not prosecuted is that routine advocacy is not “corrupt” behavior under the statute — and because prosecutors properly exercise their discretion not to bring them.  All of Judge Kozinski’s speculations about the dangers of the statute are therefore irrelevant not only to the case but also to the solution he proposes.

At the same time, Judge Kozinski offered a startling example of his own expansive view of § 1503. Suppose, he suggested, that in response to whether Greg ever gave him anything to inject himself with, Bonds had replied “I’m afraid of needles” rather than by giving his “celebrity child” response. Judge Kozinski suggested such an answer might constitute obstruction, because it implies a negative response.

The Supreme Court made it clear in the leading perjury case of Bronston v. United States that a merely evasive answer cannot be perjury. Perjury requires proof of actual falsity, and if a witness evades it is the duty of the questioner to detect it and pin the witness down. An answer may be non-responsive due to deliberate evasion, but it also may be due to nerves, miscommunication, or a misunderstanding of the question. Stringent proof requirements for perjury are therefore required so that witnesses are not chilled from testifying out of fear that an answer that is less than perfectly responsive might later be charged as perjury.

The Court in Bronston expressly rejected the idea of “perjury by negative implication” – perjury based on an answer that simply implied something that wasn’t true. Judge Kozinski, however, seemed to open the door to the idea of obstruction of justice by negative implication. As I’ve argued elsewhere, if that were the law then all of the safeguards that Bronston put in place to protect testifying witnesses would be out the window because prosecutors unable to prove perjury could simply charge obstruction of justice instead. It’s odd that Judge Kozinski expresses so much concern about the potential breadth of the statute but then offers his own hypothetical that truly would represent a sweeping expansion of the crime of obstruction of justice.

Of the two main opinions, Judge Smith’s has the better analysis. First, I think he’s correct that the proper standard for materiality is the Aguilar “natural and probable effect” test, not Judge Kozinski’s materiality test. Although some have argued, like Judge Kozinski, that there should be a separate materiality requirement for obstruction of justice, it’s not necessary. The “natural and probable effect” nexus requirement subsumes materiality within it, because it’s impossible for conduct to meet the nexus requirement and not be material. Adding a separate requirement of materiality is simply redundant. In fact, the nexus requirement provides greater protection for defendants than materiality: although any conduct that satisfies the nexus requirement will always be material, it’s easy to envision conduct that would be material to an investigation but that is so removed or remote from the investigation that it fails the nexus requirement.

I think Judge Smith is also correct that the “natural and probable effect” of a single, truthful but evasive answer can probably never be to obstruct justice, given the nature of the adversary system. As he argued, the natural and probable effect of such an answer is to inspire more probing and follow-up questions, as indeed happened during Bonds’ grand jury appearance. There’s almost no way that a single evasive answer would thwart the grand jury’s work.

At the same time, I believe Judge Smith is also correct that in certain cases evasion can constitute obstruction of justice. If a witness continually refuses to be pinned down and to answer questions directly they are not merely being evasive, they are essentially refusing to testify. At some point such conduct crosses the line into corrupt behavior that thwarts the investigation and may amount to obstruction.

Because I agree with Judge Smith that sometimes extreme evasion can rise to the level of obstruction, I disagree with Judge Reinhardt’s concurrence.  And Judge Fletcher’s historical analysis was very interesting, but if he’s correct that “corruptly” requires bribery then obstruction of justice would not even apply to classic obstructive behavior such as shredding documents that have been subpoenaed by a grand jury.  I think that ship has sailed.

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Whether one focuses on the “natural and probable effect” test or on the requirement of “corrupt” behavior, the outcome is the same: one truthful, meandering, non-response by Bonds could not have had any real impact on the grand jury’s investigation. Once the jury convicted based only on that single exchange, the verdict was doomed.

This case doesn’t have sweeping implications for the law of obstruction of justice or for the adversary system. It didn’t call for a judicial rebuke of the prosecutors or yet another cautionary tale about a criminal justice system run amok. In the end, it’s all about the facts of one case and the basis of the jury’s verdict. And as a factual matter, there’s simply no way that Bonds’ single, truthful answer could have obstructed that grand jury proceeding.

It really should have been a simple case. There’s no reason that Judge Smith’s concise, eight page analysis could not have been the opinion for the entire court. It’s surprising the Ninth Circuit saw the need to take it into extra innings.