Nothing surpasses the beauty and elegance of a bad idea. – Australian Comedian Craig Reucassel
Considering the convoluted nature of the fallout from just three months of Illinois’ SAFE-T/Pretrial Fairness Act, let’s get right back to it. The question at hand is, “Why were the events we discussed in part one so predictable?”
Here goes:
1. Judges loathe losing discretion
And why wouldn’t they?
The entire point of having a human, as opposed to an ironclad codebook or some form of AI, make the final determination in a criminal proceeding is that no two cases are exactly alike. Only a sentient being (most judges do qualify) can take all of the possibilities into account – extenuating or otherwise.
Sure, there’s some ego involved. No one likes losing power. But judges, for the most part, want to do what’s best for everyone involved and any human being is going to chafe against the unreasonable restraints preventing them from doing so.
Most of ‘em won’t be as blatant about their “disdain” for the new statute as our Livingston County judge was, but that doesn’t mean they won’t do their damnedest to send the Illinois Supreme Court a message for upholding what’s clearly a disaster of a statute.
And more defendants will await trial in jail as a result.
The fact that a minority of judges are idiots should not negatively impact those who make the daily effort to do their best. And if we’re so willing to limit judicial discretion, then shouldn’t we apply the same concept to our Springfield nitwits, 90 percent of whom shouldn’t be allowed to vote on what’s for lunch.
2. Judges are timid and skittish creatures by nature
They’re cheap, too, but that’s a column for another day.
It astounds me how those black robed folks so furiously recoil in the face of my oft-warranted, but generally minimal criticism, particularly when they put defendants away for long stretches without mincing words. And the circuit variety essentially have the job for life, so what are they worried about? When was the last time one of them failed to be retained?
If I had to hazard a guess, this phenomenon is the result of a combination of people generally sucking up to judges and reputation means everything in the legal profession.
Given that overly-cautious dynamic, when their pretrial detention discretion is reduced to a yes or no option, 90 percent of judges will err on the side of “prudence” and remand the defendant if there’s any public safety question involved. And why not? That puts the onus, and any potential public fallout, squarely at the feet of those appellate court justices.
Meanwhile the defendant sits in jail.
Don’t forget. Unless it’s truly egregious misconduct or a crime is involved, judges don’t get sanctioned for “getting it wrong.” They can only get reversed on appeal, which they’d greatly prefer over a press rebuke.
3. There’s no lost love between circuit and appellate court judges/justices
The greater truth is there’s little lost love between any legal system principles. Why do you think I have so many sources in those circles? Were I to write a screenplay about that circuit/appellate animosity I’d call it “When Egos Collide.”
That doesn’t stop circuit judges from coveting those appellate seats, however.
But when it comes to sticking it to “the man,” most circuit judges have no compunction about passing their “problems” up the ladder and letting their “superiors” sort it out. And that’s exactly what’s happening right now.
4. Some defendants aren’t nice people
Presented with the reasonable option, I’d prefer to see the good in people, but progressives have turned a whitewashed offender sainthood into a surrealistic art form. They fervently believe that, were it not for one or two cruel twists of fate, most criminal defendants would be shining examples of upright citizenry.
They’d never game the system, now, would they?
But while some folks never really had a shot, the majority of repeat offenders, particularly the violent variety, do need to be put away. The reason so many of them are out on the street is they’ve learned how to game the system. And that’s especially true of the SAFE-T Act.
Let’s say a judge detains an armed robbery suspect. That defendant has a right to appeal that detention. Then, while that appeal is in process, they can ask their public defender to file a motion to reconsider the remand. If the judge sticks to his guns, then the defendant can appeal the second decision. And so forth, and so on.
By the time the defendant either pleads or goes to trial, they can have three or four appeals in the hopper, all of which must be answered.
Which leads us to our biggest irony. With all of these specious pretrial detention appeals clogging up the higher courts, the real cases aren’t being heard, and more defendants are sitting in jail for longer stints as a result.
Our illustrious legislators never considered that, or any of the other possibilities we’ve discussed here, and now they’re starting to look a lot like a slew of deer in the headlights of an onrushing fleet of 18-wheelers.
But it ain’t all on them. The Illinois Supreme Court had the opportunity to put a halt to this insanity, but instead of doing the right thing – and they’re smart enough to know what the right thing was – they bowed to Democratic political pressure and upheld a terrible law. Considering the pass-the-buck nature of this scenario, they figured the General Assembly would be the ones to face the firing squad.
So, it’s a good thing I’m here to remind you of their pivotal role in this snafu, which is the perfect adjective for what’s going on right now. That same court will eventually have to step in to fix the mess they made.
And we haven’t even gotten to whether the fine folks freed under the SAFE-T Act are adding to the crime stats report while awaiting trial. The bottom SAFE-T Act line is, not only is it proving to be a disaster in its earliest stages, but it’s very likely creating the reality those progressive legislators so insistently railed against.
Considering all that, I’d like to ask state rep Justin Slaughter (depicted above), the man who was instrumental in pushing the Act through, “How’s that black power salute workin’ out for ya?”
