The government has voluntarily dismissed its case against Jae Shik Kim, the South Korean businessman for whom Ifrah Law obtained a motion to suppress in federal court. In 2012, Mr. Kim was stopped by federal agents as he tried to board a plane to South Korea from LAX. The government seized his laptop and copied his hard drive based on suspicion that he had engaged in illegal activity years earlier. The government indicted Mr. Kim based on evidence it found on the laptop relating to past transactions.
Everyone who has been through a security checkpoint at an airport knows that the government has wide latitude to conduct certain warrantless searches at the border without any suspicion of illegal conduct. However, the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia concurred with Ifrah Law’s argument that the government’s latitude is wide, but it is not unbounded. In order to conduct a non-routine search of electronics at the border–including copying a hard drive for the government to conduct a later search unbounded in time and scope—the government must have reasonable suspicion that the owner is presently engaged or will imminently engage in illegal activity. An ongoing investigation of suspected past criminal activity is not a sufficient basis on which to perform such a search. To use a border search for that purpose is an illegal attempt to circumvent the warrant requirements imposed by the Fourth Amendment to obtain evidence in an ongoing investigation, and any evidence obtained in that manner cannot be used to convict the defendant.
The government understood that when the court suppressed the evidence obtained from Mr. Kim’s laptop, it did not have a case on which it could obtain a conviction. Shortly after the court granted Ifrah Law’s motion to suppress, the government filed an interlocutory appeal of the court’s order. The government hoped that the Court of Appeals would reverse the order and allow the government to present evidence obtained from the laptop in order to secure a conviction.
This week, the government reversed course. The government not only dropped its appeal on the suppression issue, but moved to dismiss the indictment entirely, resulting in an event all too rare in the criminal justice system—a dismissal of all charges against the defendant. The government’s action implicitly acknowledges restrictions on its authority to conduct non-routine searches at the border when there is no suspicion of present criminal activity. It is a big win not only for our client, but for the ongoing effort to preserve our right to privacy.
Photo: “LAX-International-checkin” by TimBray at en.wikipedia.
Developments in law are sluggish compared to the rapid rate of technological advancement, and courts must constantly apply old legal principles to technologies which were not contemplated at the time the laws were enacted. Recently, technology has been at the forefront of privacy rights debates, in light of revelations that the government has access to online communications, personal data storage and extensive monitoring via technology. The Fourth Amendment of the United States Constitution establishes a privacy right by prohibiting unreasonable search and seizure, but the extent to which that applies to technology is largely untested. Last week, a federal judge upheld this fundamental right as she ruled that our client’s rights had indeed been violated by an unreasonable search and seizure of a laptop computer conducted by the government.
U.S. District Court Judge Amy Berman Jackson granted a motion which we filed on behalf of our client, South Korean businessman Jae Shik Kim, to suppress evidence seized from his laptop as he departed the country from Los Angeles International Airport in October 2012. The decision severely cripples the government’s case alleging that Kim conspired to sell aircraft technology illegally to Iran, in United States of America vs. Jae Shik Kim, Karham Eng. Corp. (Crim. Action No. 13-0100 in the U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia).
The seizure of Mr. Kim’s laptop presents a unique challenge in an undeveloped area of law. The government claimed that because Mr. Kim’s laptop was seized at the border, it was free to search the computer without having any suspicion that he was presently engaged in criminal activity, the same way the government is free to search a piece of luggage or a cargo container. Yet anyone who owns a laptop, smartphone, tablet, or any other personal mobile device, knows that the breadth and depth of private information stored within these gadgets are intimately tied to our identities and should be entitled to a heightened level of privacy.
Judge Jackson, who understood this aspect of modern mobile devices, wisely rejected the government’s argument that a computer is simply a ‘container’ and that the government has an ‘unfettered right’ to search. In her memorandum opinion and order, she wrote, “…given the vast storage capacity of even the most basic laptops, and the capacity of computers to retain metadata and even deleted material, one cannot treat an electronic storage device like a handbag simply because you can put things in it and then carry it onto a plane.”
In her decision, Judge Jackson also repeatedly referred to “reasonableness” as the “touchstone for a warrantless search.” She keenly balanced the government’s imperative to protect our borders with individuals’ privacy rights. Judge Jackson found that the nature of the search — including that the government conducted the search as Kim departed the country (and not as he entered) to gather evidence in a pre-existing investigation, and that it made a copy of the entire contents of Kim’s laptop for an “unlimited duration and an examination of unlimited scope” — amounted to an invasion of privacy and an unreasonable search and seizure.
While the search of Mr. Kim was technically a border search, his laptop was not searched at the airport. Instead, it was transported 150 miles to San Diego and held until government agents were able to find and secure information they deemed valuable to their case. In fact, Mr. Kim was deemed so little of a threat to national security that he was permitted to board his flight. Judge Jackson noted that if the government’s asserted justification for the search were to stand, it “would mean that the border search doctrine has no borders.”
In this case, unfortunately, the government overstepped the boundaries established by Fourth Amendment of the Constitution, however the checks and balances imposed by the same foundational document proved to correct this error, and rightly so, as our laws continuously strive to adjust to the reality of rapidly evolving technology.
A recent decision of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit Court serves as a good reminder that criminal statutes say only what they say, and that it is up to the legislature to revise statutes to expand their scope if the legislature cares to do so.
The opinion, United States v. Kaluza, arose from the April 20, 2010, blowout of oil, natural gas and mud at the Macondo well, located on the Outer Continental Shelf in the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. The blowout resulted in explosions and fires on the Deepwater Horizon, a drilling rig chartered by the BP petroleum company, that led to the death of eleven men.
Robert Kaluza and Donald Vidrine were “well site leaders” – the highest ranking BP employees working on the rig. Kaluza and Vidrine were indicted in the Eastern District of Louisiana on 23 counts, including 11 counts of “seaman’s manslaughter” or “ship officer manslaughter” in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 1115. Section 1115 is titled “Misconduct or neglect of ship officers” and provides, in part, that:
Every captain, engineer, pilot, or other person employed on any steamboat or vessel, by whose misconduct, negligence, or inattention to his duties on such vessel the life of any person is destroyed, and every owner, charterer, inspector, or other public officer, through whose fraud, neglect, connivance, misconduct, or violation of law the life any person is destroyed, shall be fined under this title or imprisoned not more than ten years, or both.
On the one hand, unlike the common law definition of manslaughter and the companion statutory definition for general manslaughter found in Section 1112, Section 1115 only requires proof of negligence. On the other hand, the portion of the statute quoted above specifically states that it applies only to two groups of individuals: (1) every captain, engineer, pilot, or other person employed on any steamboat or vessel; and (2) every owner, charterer, inspector, or other public official. The second of these categories clearly did not apply to the two individual defendants, and the Fifth Circuit upheld the district court’s dismissal of the Section 1115 charges on the ground that neither of the defendants fit in the first.
Because neither of the defendants was a “captain, engineer [or] pilot” of a vessel, the issue was whether the men fell within the scope of “[e]very . . . other person employed on any . . . vessel.” In making this assessment, the Court of Appeals literally walked through this phrase word by word, indicating the dictionary definition for each one. Having done so, the Court rejected the government’s argument that the plain text of the statute was unambiguous, and encompassed every person employed on the Deepwater Horizon. The Court noted that such a conclusion would make the inclusion of “captain,” “engineer,” and “pilot” superfluous; instead, invoking the principle of ejusdem generis, the Court held that these terms limit the scope of the otherwise open-ended “every . . . other person.”
The Court emphasized that the limiting principle of ejusdem generis has particular force with respect to criminal statutes, so that unsuspecting persons are not ensnared by ambiguous statutory language. Finding that the common attribute of these specific positions was that all are involved in positions of authority responsible for the success of a vessel as a means of transportation on water. Because the defendants were responsible for drilling operations, and not the marine transportation functions of the Deepwater Horizon, they did not fall within this category, and therefore could not be held liable for seaman’s manslaughter.
The Kaluza case is a textbook example of how courts can and should carefully interpret ambiguous statutes so that they may be applied only to those persons and acts to which Congress intended them to apply. The case is certain to provide guidance to trial judges in the Fifth Circuit and elsewhere when similar circumstances arise in other cases.
Federal Criminal Procedure
This article first appeared on FEE.org – you can access this version at http://fee.org/freeman/detail/bureaucracy-unlimited
Big Gov and Big Biz. Are they holding hands, shaking hands, or boxing? It depends on the day and the issue. But while Big Biz hardly seems like a sympathetic character, Big Gov always has the upper hand.
Remember Arthur Anderson? Perhaps not. It used to be the biggest accounting firm around. Then the Justice Department went after it with little proof but lots of gusto. The megalith firm fought the law, and the law won (temporarily). The Department of Justice obtained a criminal conviction against the firm that was the equivalent of a death sentence: the company lost its reputation and therefore lost its clients. By the time the Supreme Court overturned the conviction, it was a pyrrhic victory for the defunct firm.
Through Arthur Anderson, companies learned that no matter how big you are, the government is bigger. When the government comes after you, stand down and don’t fight.
Do you care that Big Gov picks on Big Biz? While Big Gov is busy starting wars of attrition with Big Biz, it is building out its bureaucratic infrastructure — all while sharpening a strategy that means it can’t lose. And that’s everyone’s concern. Companies regularly acquiesce to government demands and pave the way for what I’ll call enforcement creep — de facto lawmaking whereby government agencies use the threat of costly litigation, the threat of multiple agency investigations, or the threat of Arthur Anderson’s sad fate to gain settlements with defendants, even when the companies haven’t committed any significant wrongs.
These settlements often exceed the scope of existing laws and regulations, more accurately reflecting what the agencies want, not necessarily what the law requires. Agencies thus further their policy initiatives — including those not defined by statute or by implementing regulations — on an ad hoc basis, outside the purview of traditional lawmaking.
Here are two examples of how enforcement creep plays out.
In May 2014, the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau announced a $96.6 million settlement against student loan servicer Sallie Mae (now Navient Solutions). The agreement was to settle allegations that the company failed to reduce interest rates on loans to military members as required under the Servicemembers Civil Relief Act (SCRA). In the settlement agreement, Sallie Mae didn’t admit to any wrongdoing (a typical agreement term) but nonetheless agreed to pay fines and restitution. It also agreed to institute new measures to ensure compliance with the SCRA.
Here’s the kicker: the new measures require that Sallie Mae not only comply with current law, but go several steps further. That is, current law puts the burden on service members to seek loan reduction relief, but the consent order shifts the burden to Sallie Mae. It requires that the company presume loan reduction requests based upon service member actions (such as a request from the service member for another form of relief). It also requires the company to undertake other measures proactively to seek service member rate reductions (such as creating an online intake form and training designated customer service representatives to advise on SCRA protections).
It probably seemed to government regulators that the loan servicer, instead of the service member, was in a better position to bear the burden of looking after SCRA rights. And so they shifted that burden through an investigation and settlement with a major loan servicer — as opposed to going through the more public rulemaking process and requesting that Congress revise the law.
Here’s another example. In September 2014, Costco settled charges with the Environmental Protection Agency. The government authorities alleged the company violated the Clean Air Act by failing to repair refrigerant leaks and failing to keep adequate records of the servicing of its refrigeration equipment. The consent decree, in which Costco admitted no liability, requires that the company cut its leak rate to almost half the legal maximum over the next three years. (The decree requires Costco to achieve corporate-wide average leak rates of 19.1 percent; the regulations, 40 C.F.R. § 82.156 and EPA guidance, provide a legal leak rate maximum for commercial refrigeration equipment of 35 percent.)
The agreement requires the company to retrofit, replace, and install systems in a manner that similarly appears to surpass legal standards. Comparing the EPA guidance with the consent decree, the decree looks like a big leap from current regulatory requirements. The settlement agreement terms sound a lot more like policy objectives, in keeping with the EPA’s GreenChill initiative, than legal standards.
Give us your lunch money
It’s okay to encourage companies voluntarily to adopt more rigorous environmental standards than the law requires, but when a company’s decision not to comply can result in steep sanctions, the decision is no longer voluntary. So when the government looks for excuses to impose extralegal preferences, it starts to sound less like cheerleading and more like bullying. Think of it this way: it is still legal to encrypt your smartphone, but would you feel free to do so if you knew that the police were investigating everyone pursuing that form of privacy?
Where companies don’t do anything wrong, or where the wrongs committed pale in comparison to the punishment exacted, why do they settle with the feds? It has a lot to do with cost-benefit analysis. Rational parties will assess whether it makes financial sense to defend their positions in protracted litigation or to settle and move on. Since legal defense can be very costly, accepting a reasonable penalty that frees time and economic resources may seem like the best option. It’s similar to the pressure on someone charged with a serious crime, even when they are innocent, to plea bargain rather than face the expense of a long legal defense and the real possibility of a wrongful conviction. Plus, these companies don’t want to face significant bad press or a conviction that could effectively shutter operations. So Big Biz stands down; Big Gov expands its legal reach by applying an extralegal strategy of legislation by threat.
The companies entering into settlement agreements will obviously have to adopt the terms of those agreements or be in breach. But they are not the only ones looking carefully at applying settlement terms. Other companies with similar business practices will recognize a world of limited choices: adopt the government’s policy objectives or prepare for your time in the ring. New de facto law is made outside the courts, outside Congress, and entirely outside the public sphere. The extent to which Big Biz could once serve as a check on Big Gov fades into history, as enforcement creep becomes the new reality.
Federal Criminal Procedure
This week, the United States Supreme Court resolved some fishy matters on which prosecutors sought to base a federal felony conviction.
The case, Yates v. United States, arose from a offshore inspection of a commercial fishing vessel in the Gulf of Mexico. During the inspection, a federal agent found that the ship’s catch contained undersized red grouper, in violation of federal conservation regulations. The agent instructed the ship’s captain, Mr. Yates, to keep the undersized fish segregated from the rest of the catch until the ship returned to port. But after the officer left, Yates instead told a crew member to throw the undersized fish overboard. Yates was subsequently charged with destroying, concealing and covering up undersized fish, in violation of Title 18, United States Code, section 1519. That section provides that a person may be fined or imprisoned for up to 20 years if he “knowingly alters, destroys, mutilates, conceals, covers up, falsifies, or makes a false entry in any record, document, or tangible object with the intent to impede, obstruct, or influence” a federal investigation.
At trial, Yates moved for a judgment of acquittal on this charge, noting that the provision was part of the Sarbanes-Oxley Act of 2002. That law was designed to protect investors and restore trust in financial markets after the collapse of Enron Corporation. Yates argued that the reference to “tangible object” was meant to refer to objects that store information, such as computer hard drives, and did not refer to fish. The Court denied the motion and the jury convicted Yates, and the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed the conviction, finding that fish are objects having physical form, and therefore fall within the dictionary definition of a “tangible object.”
In a majority opinion authored by Justice Ginsburg (and joined by the Chief Justice, Justice Breyer and Justice Sotomayor), the Court relied upon “[f]amiliar interpretive guides” in ruling that the “tangible object” to which section 1519 referred was indeed used to record or preserve information. In so ruling, the Court placed significant emphasis on context – in particular, the other parts of Title 18, Chapter 73. The Court noted Congress placed section 1519 at the end of that chapter immediately after pre-existing specialized provisions expressly aimed at corporate fraud and financial audits. The Court also noted the contemporaneous passage of section 1512(c)(1), which prohibits a person from “alter[ing], destroy[ing], mutilat[ing], or conceal[ing] a record, document or other object . . . with the intent to impair the object’s integrity or availability for use in an official proceeding” – a provision that would be unnecessary if section 1519’s reference to “tangible object” already included all physical objects. The Court also applied the statutory interpretation canons of noscitur a scoiis (“it is known from its associates”) and ejusdem generis(“of the same kind”), noting that beginning the provision with “any record [or] document” directs that the “tangible object” later referenced must be one used to record or preserve information. The Court also noted that the rule of lenity required that it resolve the dispute against finding criminal liability here. Justice Alito filed a concurring opinion relying on a narrower basis, while Justices Kagan, Scalia, Kennedy and Thomas dissented from the Court’s ruling.
The Court’s opinion in Yates makes for good reading for aficionados of classic statutory interpretation, and the Court’s decision to find that the scope of the statute was narrower than suggested by the government is a welcome respite from the seemingly ever-increasing scope of crimes in the U.S. Code. Congress could certainly pass legislation to make clear if it intended to include other tangible objects in the scope of this provision. But for now, tossing back the little ones does not constitute a SOX crime.
In an effort to reinstate powers stripped from them by the Court of Appeals in U.S. v. Newman and Chiasson, prosecutors have sought a rehearing of the landmark Second Circuit decision which severely curtailed the scope of insider trading cases.
The case is one which has already seen a dramatic reversal, so it is perhaps no surprise that prosecutors are hoping for the tide to turn in their favor. In trial court, the jury heard evidence that financial analysts received insider information from sources at two companies, Dell and NVIDIA, disclosing the companies’ earnings before those numbers were publicly released. The financial analysts in turn passed that information along to hedge fund traders Todd Newman and Anthony Chiasson, who executed trades in the companies’ stock.
Those transactions earned Newman’s funds approximately $4 million and Chiasson’s funds approximately $68 million. The prosecution charged both defendants with insider trading based on the trades they made with early knowledge of the earnings reports. The trial judge instructed the jury that the defendants could be found guilty if they had knowledge that the information “was originally disclosed by the insider in violation of a duty of confidentiality.” On December 12, 2012, the jury returned guilty verdicts for both defendants on all counts.
Newman and Chiasson appealed their convictions, arguing among other things that the prosecution had failed to present evidence that they had engaged in insider trading and that the trial judge improperly instructed the jury as to the level of knowledge required to sustain a conviction. Newman and Chiasson argued that the government must prove beyond a reasonable doubt not only that the information was originally disclosed by the insider in violation of the duty of confidentiality, but that the insider disclosed the information in exchange for personal benefit.
The Court of Appeals agreed with their arguments, and found that the government had failed to present sufficient evidence that the insider received any personal benefit from sharing the information, or that Newman and Chiasson had knowledge of any such personal benefit an insider received from sharing the tip.
The Second Circuit’s December 10, 2014 opinion clearly lays out the requirements for “tippee liability,” that is, liability for one who received a tip originating from a corporate insider:
(1) The corporate insider was entrusted with a fiduciary duty; (2) the corporate insider breached the fiduciary duty by (a) disclosing confidential information to a tippee (b) in exchange for personal benefit; (3) the tippee knew of the tipper’s breach, that is, he know the information was confidential and divulged for personal benefit; and (4) the tippee still used that information to trade in a security or tip another individual for personal benefit.
Based on this standard, the Court of Appeals concluded that “without establishing that the tippee knows of the personal benefit received by the insider in exchange for the disclosure, the Government cannot meet its burden of showing that the tippee knew of a breach.”
The opinion also issued a stern rebuke of “recent insider trading prosecutions, which are increasingly targeted at remote tippees many levels removed from corporate insiders.” This admonition could be fairly interpreted as being directed toward Manhattan United States Attorney Preet Bharara, who has been aggressively prosecuting Wall Street insider trading cases and has obtained approximated 85 convictions so far. Mr. Bharara issued a statement saying that the decision “interprets the securities law in a way that will limit the ability to prosecute people who trade on leaked inside information.”
The court has yet to rule on the prosecution’s January 23, 2015 request for a rehearing of the case. Until any modification is issued, the Newman ruling remains the controlling law of the Second Circuit and it will affect other cases. Already, at least a dozen criminal defendants in the Southern District of New York have cited to the case in requesting to overturn their conviction or vacate their guilty pleas.
For instance, soon after the Second Circuit issued its ruling in Newman, a federal judge in Manhattan vacated the guilty pleas of four men charged with insider trading related to IBM: Daryl Payton, Thomas Conradt, David Weishaus, and Trent Martin. Instead of bringing the case to trial, the prosecutors instead asked Judge Andrew Carter to dismiss the indictment. However, the prosecutors indicated that if the Newman decision is altered on rehearing or appeal, they might consider bringing the charges again. Appeals of previously convicted defendants will likely remain on hold pending the court’s decision on the requested Newman rehearing. Regardless of the outcome on rehearing, the Newman decision is a strong indication that courts are making a concerted effort to rein in prosecutorial overreach.
It’s not every day that a federal court likens an Assistant U.S. Attorney’s argument to that “of a grade schooler seeking to avoid detention.” But, in a recent opinion, Judge Emmet G. Sullivan of the D.C. District Court did just that. In so doing, he reminded us that—despite the government’s (admitted) routine abuse of its subpoena power—the privacy rights of inmates matter, and a standard practice is not tantamount to a legal basis.
The overall case, one involving an alleged conspiracy to commit visa fraud, had taken some rare procedural twists before landing in Judge Sullivan’s courtroom: for example, the government had effectively incarcerated Ms. Truc Huynh (a former co-defendant) to postpone her deportation to Vietnam and ensure her availability to testify at a deposition against a remaining co-defendant. The primary issue addressed in Judge Sullivan’s recent ruling, however, was whether the U.S. Attorney’s Office violated the law when it issued subpoenas to the Central Treatment Facility (a local jail) for Ms. Huynh’s visitation logs, call logs, and recorded telephone calls—without notifying the Court, Ms. Huynh, or the defendant against whom Ms. Huynh was set to testify.
As a general matter, Rule 17 governs the issuance of subpoenas in criminal cases and allows the government to subpoena a witness to testify at a hearing or trial and may require the concurrent production of documents. It does not, however, allow for pretrial fishing expeditions for potentially relevant information. But that is precisely what the government had done in this case by “inviting” the jail to comply with the subpoena by promptly providing the requested documents directly to the Assistant U.S. Attorney handling the case. Within a matter of days, the jail complied with the production of 200 recordings, which were in Ms. Huynh’s native Vietnamese.
After having initially agreed to the defendants’ request for English language transcripts, the government later argued that compliance would be unduly burdensome because (upon review) the calls appeared to be irrelevant to the case. In so doing, the government showed its hand: the Assistant U.S. Attorneys had, essentially, used the Court’s subpoena power to conduct a fishing expedition into Ms. Huynh’s private phone calls without specific reason to believe that the calls would be admissible at trial.
To make matters worse, a similar subpoena had been issued for the remaining defendant’s jailhouse calls. When defense counsels moved to quash the subpoenas, the Assistant U.S. Attorneys failed to offer any legal authority in support of their actions—arguing instead that this was their general practice and they didn’t know of any authority saying they couldn’t. Fortunately for the defendants, Judge Sullivan—known for holding the government to account (see, e.g., his handling of the Ted Steven’s trial and the IRS scandal)—was not inclined to excuse such behavior. At oral argument, the Judge pushed back, “So that’s your authority: There’s nothing that says we can’t do it?” and the Assistant U.S. Attorney responded: “Right … That’s my authority.” The Court was not persuaded.
In his written opinion, Judge Sullivan held that the government had, indeed, overstepped Rule 17 by “inviting” the subpoena recipient to provide pretrial production of the documents requested. The government’s assertion—that an “invitation” for pretrial discovery did not obligate pretrial discovery—was of no moment, neither were its arguments that defendants lacked standing. Judge Sullivan made clear that “[b]ecause subpoenas are issued with the Court’s seal and backed by the threat of court-posed sanctions, the mere fact that an attorney abuses the subpoena power directly implicates the court itself and creates an embarrassment for the institution.”
In the end, Judge Sullivan boldly vindicated the privacy interests of these individual defendants. It remains to be seen, however, if his opinion will stymie the government’s practice of “inviting” pretrial discovery without court approval. If nothing else, perhaps the Assistant U.S. Attorneys appearing before Judge Sullivan will think twice before doing so.
What were you doing Wednesday, November 5, 2014? If you are a staunch Republican, you might have been toasting the election results from the day before, dreamy-eyed and dancing. If you are a staunch Democrat, you might have been scratching your head profusely, thunderstruck and quiet. People across the country were talking politics and policy in a very public way that day. How would the results impact executive actions and legislative initiatives on immigration and healthcare? It seemed as though the democratic process was chugging along. Meanwhile, at the Thurgood Marshall Federal Judiciary Building in D.C., a little-publicized hearing with potentially far-reaching consequences to your privacy rights was taking place.
The hearing was before the Judicial Conference Advisory Committee on Criminal Rules. The topic for discussion was proposed rule changes to the Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure. The Justice Department had requested the regulatory body modify slightly Rule 41(b), which outlines the terms for obtaining a search warrant. So far so boring, right? And what does any of this have to do with you, a law-abiding citizen? No wonder that the hearing captured little attention. But the slight modification that the DoJ requested is nothing to yawn at. It is a rule change that would give federal investigators sweeping powers to access computers and electronic devices not only of their targets but also of anyone else whose online path crosses investigator initiatives. As civil liberties advocates have pointed out: the rule change could pose a serious threat to Fourth Amendment protections and privacy rights.
Last year, the DoJ requested Rule 41(b) be amended to permit courts to issue search warrants allowing remote access searches of computers and other electronic storage media when the location is concealed. The provision would further allow investigators to seize electronically stored information regardless of whether that information is stored within or outside the court’s jurisdiction. The request, especially when you consider how it would be carried out in practice, is a big leap from current procedure. As it currently stands, Rule 41(b) only allows (with limited exceptions) a court to issue a warrant for people or property within the court’s district. In order to keep a check on investigators and investigations, the rules impose this location limitation, among other limitations. The point is to not give investigators free reign to look in on whomever, wherever and whenever they choose; the point is to limit the impact their investigations could have on people’s right to privacy.
Courts and Congress have made it clear that to comply with the Fourth Amendment, a search warrant that involves surreptitious and invasive tactics must meet a number of rigorous safeguards. These safeguards were outlined in the 1960s when wiretapping and bugging developed as the investigative tools of choice. In 1967, the U.S. Supreme Court struck down New York state’s wiretapping law, holding that because electronic eavesdropping “by its very nature…involves an intrusion on privacy that is broad in scope,” it should be allowed only “under the most precise and discriminate circumstances.” Berger v. New York, 388 U.S. 41 (1967). The following year, Congress followed the Court’s cue and outlined those “precise and discriminate circumstances” in the Wiretap Act (a.k.a. Title III of the Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Streets Act of 1968). For a search warrant to be valid, the issuing judge must work through a number of questions to ensure the warrant will be sufficiently circumscribed to meet the Fourth Amendment’s particularity requirement and that it is based upon probable cause. These constraints help to ensure, among other things, that investigators don’t go on fishing expeditions in pursuit of a crime as well as a criminal or that investigators don’t otherwise misuse their ability to peer into the lives of individuals (say to badger someone with a different political affiliation).
Remote access searches of electronic devices are no less invasive than the forms of electronic eavesdropping envisaged in the Wiretap Act. As the Supreme Court recently pronounced in Riley v. California, the search of a modern electronic device such as a smartphone or computer is more intrusive to privacy than even “the most exhaustive search of a house.” 134 S. Ct. 2473, 2491 (2014). The proposed change to Rule 41 could short circuit the procedural safeguards in place and demand we carry out a fiction that somehow remote access searches are not a form of electronic eavesdropping demanding heightened standards (this would be a particularly challenging fiction if you consider that remote access searching could allow investigators to activate a device’s camera or microphone).
While the DoJ’s requested changes would not necessarily override requirements of the Wiretap Act, the Rule 41 amendments could facilitate statutory and constitutional violations. This concern, among a host of others, was well articulated by the American Civil Liberties Union in its comments on the rule change. (If you have the time, it is a worthwhile exercise to review the comments submitted by the ACLU and the Center for Democracy & Technology, among others that outlined the anticipated negative consequences of the proposed rule change.) Chief among the concerns are the risk that investigators’ techniques to gain remote access—such as hyperlinks on public pages (“watering holes”), where users with common interests tend to gather—could subject thousands of non-suspect individuals’ electronic devices to the government’s malware.
It remains to be seen what the Judicial Conference Advisory Committee will decide, whether they choose to rubberstamp the DoJ’s proposed amendments or whether they will stand down and submit the question to public and legislative debate. Considering the DoJ’s request raises significant constitutional questions, we can only hope the Committee recognizes the value of airing the matter before a more public forum where the system of checks and balances remains in place.
Fact: the United States incarcerates its citizens at the highest rate in the developed world. Indeed—save one small chain of islands, whose entire population is just a fraction of our prison population—the United States’ incarceration rate is the highest on the planet. And nearly half of our approximately 1.75 million inmates are serving time for nonviolent and/or drug-related offenses.
That is not OK. It is especially disgraceful in instances where poverty is the only factor standing between incarceration and freedom; nowhere is that connection more salient than in the realm of pretrial detention. It seems, however, there may be a light at the end of the tunnel: bail reform—federal and state.
The federal corrections policies—those that prevailed since the birth of the Nixon era’s War on Drugs—are beginning to be dismantled. Of course, that’s hardly surprising, given Attorney General Holder’s unabashed stance on over-incarceration: “It’s clear – as we come together today – that too many Americans go to too many prisons for far too long, and for no truly good law enforcement reason. It’s clear, at a basic level, that 20th-century criminal justice solutions are not adequate to overcome our 21st-century challenges. And it is well past time to implement common sense changes that will foster safer communities from coast to coast.” But Holder is on his way out, and we cannot know whether his successor(s) will carry his torch forward.
As for the states, this election season a number of them put their approaches to victimless and/or nonviolent crime on the ballot. For example, voters in three states and 56 municipalities (including Washington, D.C.) had an opportunity to weigh in on how/where marijuana use fits into our society. The result: the majority of voters, across party lines, think it’s time for a change. Eight more states have proposed legalization ballot initiatives for 2016.
The decriminalization of low-level drug offences will, undoubtedly, have tangible effects on incarceration rates. But what of those arrested for the plethora of nonviolent—often victimless— crimes that remain on the books? At least one state is taking action…
In New Jersey—a state where just over 5,000 inmates (or 38.5% of the total jail population) are there simply because they are too poor to afford bail—the state legislature set out to address that problem with a companion bill aimed at reducing the prevalence of pre-trial detention. With its first step, the NJ legislature passed a bill requiring that each defendant be evaluated to determine his/her propensity for recidivism during release, witness intimidation, and flight: low-risk, non-violent defendants shall be released on their own recognizance; those posing a higher-risk will be released subject to certain conditions (i.e., curfews, travel restrictions, and/or electronic monitoring); those posing the greatest risk may be denied bail; and all detained defendants will be entitled to a speedy trial protection. For its second, the legislature voted unanimously to poll the people—via ballot measure—on a constitutional amendment to allow judicial discretion in the pretrial detention of those most dangerous defendants. The Question: “Do you approve amending the Constitution to allow a court to order pretrial detention of a person in a criminal case?” The Answer: Yes. Now, with this tandem effort by lawmakers and voters, the bail reform package is in full effect.
For those whose concern for just policy overcomes the allure of partisan politics, state and local ballot initiatives can offer a keen lens into the hearts and minds of the populace. Although we are reluctant to read too much into the tealeaves (that has pitfalls all its own…), it seems—underneath the partisan gridlock—a sea change may be brewing. Whether this burgeoning trend will bear sustainable fruit—that remains to be seen. In the meantime, we will continue to be encouraged by small wins in the fight for an equitable justice system where socioeconomic status is not fate determinative. Stay tuned.
Several news publications have been making much ado about a tactic the FBI used in 2007 to locate an individual suspected in a series of bomb-threats to Washington state high schools. The FBI created a fake news article, falsely representing it as an Associated Press publication, and sent a link to the suspect’s MySpace account. The article headline, which was directed at the suspect, was meant to entice him to go to the link. It worked. The suspect clicked on the link, which enabled the FBI to download malware on his computer and identify his location and Internet Protocol address. The suspect was subsequently arrested, charged and prosecuted in state court.
Newspapers and other media outlets have recently decried the FBI’s use of the AP’s name and brand recognition to further its purposes. The AP’s director of media relations noted in an October 2014 statement: “This ploy violated AP’s name and undermined AP’s credibility.” The Seattle Times complained that such action not only crosses the line, but erases it (the statement was made when the paper believed its publication was involved). The controversy is somewhat understandable: journalists want to ensure their perceived independence; they don’t want to be seen as a tool of the powers that be.
But media concern over the FBI’s use of the AP name may be slightly overstated. The FBI did not publish the fake news article for broad dissemination. It directed the article to one suspect only. Nor is it exactly unprecedented for investigators to hold themselves out as something they are not in order to gain the trust of and nab wrongdoers. Should all cool teens (however they self-describe these days) complain that Narcs are undermining their reputation and street cred? Without these undercover operations, a major tool to FBI investigations would be lost, not to mention fodder for the popular television series that made Johnny Depp famous. FBI and other enforcement agencies regularly use deception to catch criminals. Everyone knows this, including the wrongdoers at whom deceptive practices are targeted.
Some argue that there is a colorable difference between impersonating a fake individual or persona and impersonating the press. If the impersonation were on a large scale and were relatively public, the deception would be problematic. People wouldn’t know what journalism was credible and what journalism wasn’t (not that this isn’t already a subject a some debate…). But narrowly-focused operations directed exclusively at suspects who are the subject of a search warrant is a different scenario, and that’s the scenario that appears to be in play here. Where the FBI employs such tactics well enough into an investigation to support a search warrant, including having probable cause that the suspect is involved in criminal activity, using deception, which is an efficient way to locate the individual, doesn’t seem too alarming.
Of course, it is important to emphasize that legal process is everything. If the FBI were to disseminate fake news articles to gain computer access at the launch of an investigation, before it had a target, before it had probable cause, and before it had its actions approved judicially by a search warrant, such tactics would risk impacting innocent individuals and undermining news sources.