The Moral and Intellectual Failure that is American Justice

Asking the question, is criminal justice reform a good thing?

Many of us are familiar with the criticism on American justice that at this very moment there are no less than 2.2 million human beings confined in prison and jail cells across the United States¹. We also know that the land of the free and home of the brave has five percent of the world's population, but twenty-five percent of the world's prisoners—which just so happens to be the highest rate of incarceration in the recorded history of the modern world². With these criticisms as the backdrop to the general narrative on American justice, inevitably what follows is the observation that "criminal justice reform" is necessary to rescue us from our otherwise good intentions of adhering to the rule of law in our collective pursuit of keeping people safe in their pursuits of happiness. But the perceived nobility of the aforementioned term, as it relates to "reform," also manufactures consent for a form of mass-genocide that is so subtle in its bloodlust that most never notice the lives erased and families destroyed on the sacrificial altar of supposed equality. Most are so distracted in their own life pursuits, they just don't notice that their consent has been given to do what has been done, not only yesterday and today, but for the foreseeable future of tomorrows, as well. An uninformed consent, that, once fully informed, forever changes how we perceive justice in America.

I know what it's like to live under the continual humdrum of family, life, career, the responsibility of employing others, and the need to occasionally vote for the leaders that manage and safeguard the viability of our respective democratic republics and institutions. In what now seems like an altogether former life, I could have told you about ten year yields on bonds and most index funds, exchange rates on all major currencies, and all the political topics that could potentially influence our markets of commerce. What I couldn't have told you was anything having to do with the countless and otherwise forgotten lives of those who have been dragged and otherwise forced through what we call the criminal justice system.

Like most, I just assumed that the justice system was a necessary response for a society to humanely address the outlier issue that some people refuse to conform to the norms. Instead of careers, families, service to their communities, and planning for retirement, they're concerned with harming others through criminality—or, at least, that's the narrative that I subscribed to as someone who was college educated and career oriented in a capitalistic world. Yes, I understood that the system could be corrupt and cruel, because I had experienced instances of that reality as an adolescent, having been singled out for my race; but, what I never realized was just how deep the cruelty went, or how systematic the corruption was; especially when the overall facade that we see on public monuments, or the way in which equality is expounded upon in judicial opinions, in no way presents even a hint of the possibility that the law is being used, as Civil Rights Corps founder Alec Karakatsanis wrote³, "to crush the bodies and minds of poor people and people of color in our streets, our prisons, and our courtrooms."

The courthouse in which my life was placed on that aforementioned altar of supposed equality, just so happens to be one of the most beautiful buildings in the entire state of New Mexico. Such striking beauty that naturally makes anyone who walks through those doors cognizant that within those walls is the culmination of the very freedoms and equality spoken about in the Bill of Rights and the Constitution. What most don't realize, however, is that there's another entrance underground that breathes the exhaust fumes from the transport vehicles and luxurious automobiles of the judges who reside above. An entrance where there are no beautiful mountains to view, and people aren't greeted with lofty words and facades of marble or granite, but with the cold indifference of cement and the steel cages of malice. Where instead of people dressed in their best attire, freshly shaven, or otherwise adorned in accordance to their own ideas of beauty, the people below are dirty, frightened, cold, and shackled—often placed for hours in holding cells that are meant to hold ten, but are often crammed with thirty desperate lives hoping for some kind of reprieve from above.

What everyone in those holding cells has in common, aside from the obvious of having been accused of criminality, or that they're technically innocent until proven guilty, is that they're too poor to purchase their freedom until the aforementioned determination of guilt or innocence based upon the unbiased application of the rule of law can be made. Because they are poor, most don't even know the names of the attorneys assigned to represent them, or have any idea in what ways their supposed rights will be violated when they step into that courtroom. Nor do they realize how seemingly impossible it will be to get the court to do what the law requires in the present instance of their legal proceedings, or in those that follow through the entrails of the ensuing appellate process.

If I had to describe in a single word what the appellate process is like, knowing that the jury and the court got it wrong, the only word that comes to mind is heartbreaking. But that's only the present sense impression of someone sitting there in the courtroom, in the hot seat, knowing perfectly well that the attorneys on either side of them are not necessarily their allies anymore than the prosecutor or the judge is an ally. Because once the appellate process has begun, the word that best fits is—infuriating!

I have quite literally spent two decades living and breathing the appellate process in the shadow of "criminal justice reform," and I'm qualified to say that, whatever reforms are taking place are about as ineffectual to the desired outcome of justice as a lucky penny or a rabbit's foot is to winning the lottery. I wholeheartedly agree with Karakatsanis's assessment³, that the reform movement as a whole "is superficial and deceptive. And it is therefore dangerous." Primarily because "[i]t is designed to quell calls for genuine change while preserving the architecture of mass human caging." But, even knowing what I know, does not deter me from hammering away at the edifice of the moral and intellectual failure that is American justice from within the very concrete walls intended to otherwise desecrate and destroy human life—my human life.

Recently, I concluded my legal research on the preserved appellate issue on the illegality of my criminal conviction and sentence. The issue itself stems from the theory of the crime presented to the jury by the prosecutor, in that, a separate, subsequent crime could serve as predicate, impetus for murder. Which, both logically, and, more importantly, legally it cannot. Mysteriously an issue that should have been recognized and brought to the state supreme court's attention on direct appeal, but wasn't; because had it been brought to the court's attention, according to the legal precedent in existence at that time, the conviction would have been overturned. With legal arguments written and ready to present to the court, all that was required was the relevant transcripts (public records) from the clerk's office so as to demonstrate the factuality of my claim. But, when we approached the court clerk's office for the necessary public records, the inefficacy of bureaucracy reared its ugly head—yet again. Below is an open letter submitted by me to the New Mexico Department of Justice, seeking its assistance through enforcement of the Information of Public Records Act (IPRA):

As the Department of Justice of New Mexico, you should be aware of some seemingly unorthodox practices currently taking place at the Second Judicial District Court (SJDC). These practices are related to public records requests for transcripts, and the apparent reality that public records are not being maintained or made available by the Court Clerk's Office as statute demands; and, since certain transcripts are not available through the respective court clerk where the proceedings in question were docketed, these public records are instead being peddled for the personal gain of private citizens. For purposes of clarity we must return to September of 2020,, when my mother Nancy Chavez, requested transcripts on my behalf from the Clerk's Office at the SJDC for proceedings that took place in 2006 on case #D-202-CR-03558. She was assisted, at that time, by Diona Gibson, a Managing Court Reporter, who informed her that we couldn't acquire the public records we requested from the clerk's office; instead, referring us to a retired court reporter by the name of Frances Hernandez, who we would need to pay for the public records we were requesting. Granted, it seemed counterintuitive to acquire public records from a private citizen who no longer worked for the court, city, county, or state, but our objective at the time was to acquire the necessary documents—nothing more.

In the transaction process of acquiring public records through a private citizen, however, there appeared a problem, in that, according to Diona Gibson, the older files from 2006 couldn't be accessed by Frances's software. The proffered solution was for Frances to send the files with the required transcripts to Diona, who did have the correct software to access the older files, convert those files into PDF files, send them back to Frances, who would then sell those files to my mother (of course, we possess all the old emails to corroborate the succession of events hereby referred to, available at your request).

The above succession of events was not a singular occurrence, because recently—again on my behalf—my mother again requested documents and transcripts related to certain dates pertaining to the abovementioned case, and once again we were informed that the public records being sought could only be acquired through third party, former employees of the court. Which presents a few obvious questions as to why public records are being stored in private residences and, why are are private citizens permitted to peddle public records for personal gain? Perhaps questions that wouldn't even have been brought to your attention had it not been for having been denied access to these public records by the very private citizens who peddle them.

At the time of our first request in 2020, fourteen years had already elapsed since the trial for which we were attempting to acquire transcripts, and I momentarily direct your attention to the fact that at no point did the staff of the SJDC, or the former court employee, ever state that they were unable to comply with our request because "per statute" they were only required to safeguard public records for "seven years." A relevant observation, because here we are only four years later and the litany of reasons for why our requests can't be honored have begun with, as before, that the clerk's office refers us to retired, or otherwise former employees who are the access point for the public records we are requesting. This time, however, instead of being referred to Francis Hernandez, we were instead referred to Bernadette Perea and Julianne Beatty—both of whom, denied our request for public records.

Bernadette Perea claimed that "[o]ld software is not compa[tible] with new. By statute we are only required to save for seven years." Julianne Beatty, on the other hand, stated, "I no longer have software to access those files. They are no longer available." Our response to these denials was, first, to inquire as to which statute permits public, court records to be disposed of after only seven years; and, second, to try and better understand how it's possible for pertinent records on a case that at no point has been inactive since 2006, are somehow suddenly unavailable only four short years after they had been available. And, of course, these answers have not been forthcoming.

These denials were the catalyst for an Inspection of Public Records Act (IPRA) request presented by me to the SJDC on 11/04/2024. My request was responded to by Katina Watson, Court Executive Officer/Records Custodian of the Second Judicial District Court, who informed me that she required additional time to investigate my request, stating that a response would be forthcoming by 11/19/2024. That response, however, was only forthcoming to the extent that I was informed that the request to review the transcripts of my trial was "proven to be broad and burdensome" and that a further update would be forthcoming "before 12/3/24," which came from Alison K. Orona, General Counsel for Katina Watson.

I refer your department to NM Stat. 34-6-20, that clearly states that "[a]ll notes, records and evidence taken by the reporter shall be deposited with the district court of the county in which the proceeding is docketed." Notice that the law does not say for records of the proceedings to be stored at their private residences for the purpose of peddling them back to the public for personal gain. Furthermore, the official response from the SJDC that my request is "broad and burdensome" is absurd. I'm not asking for every record for every case from 2006, that would be "broad and burdensome." I'm asking for records for a single case pertinent to my ongoing appellate efforts to overturn my wrongful conviction. And with this in mind, I'm asking the NMDOJ to assist by enforcing IPRA against the unorthodox practices of the SJDC, that (a) makes public records unavailable directly through the clerk's office; and (b) permits former employees (i.e., private citizens) to peddle public records for personal gain. As mentioned, I am willing to provide you a PDF file with all the relevant emails that validate the claims made in this letter.

Sincerely,

Mario Chávez

Throughout the years I have written countless letters to innocence organizations pleading for their help in navigating and fighting the generalized judicial agenda of upholding convictions where even the most blatant constitutional violations exist. Some of those inquiries were responded to with authorization release forms, to be signed by me, granting the respective organization access to the public records that would substantiate my claims. Yet, despite having signed and submitted those release forms, not a single organization has ever responded with a willingness to assist or represent me in my efforts. Which, could very be an issue of geography; but, given the court's unwillingness to comply with a simple IPRA request, I'm left wondering how many times a potential advocate has been deterred from helping me—or someone like me in New Mexico—because the public records aren't readily available through the court clerk as they should be, per statute.

Organizations like the Center on Wrongful Convictions or the Innocence Project receive thousands of pleas for help every year, and it stands to reason that when courts refuse to produce records because supposedly "new software" doesn't open "old files," or because said organizations are unwilling to be fleeced by private citizens peddling public records, they simply move on to cases in states where public records are made available without the herculean efforts of time and resources needed to acquire them. As Karakatsanis rightfully observes, a "defining feature of America's punishment system is that it inflicts cruelty on such a scale that it no longer feels cruel."

1. Does an employee at the clerk's office realize how desensitized he or she has become to the gross instances of negligence and cruelty they are inflicting on someone when they knowingly cooperate in denying someone justice? It stands to reason that most feel nothing, which confirms how oblivious and generally unaware they are that the punishments they carry out and the bureaucracy they uphold isn't leading to any good whatsoever. Reform advocates say that the criminal legal system is "broken," but that's only to the extent that it doesn't produce equal justice for all. Because, from the standpoint of preserving the status quo of brutality towards human life, its bureaucracy of bloodlust exceeds expectations. A reality that brings to mind something Toni Morrison said more than three decades ago in her Nobel prize acceptance speech*:

Official language smitheryed to sanction ignorance and preserve privilege is a suit of armor polished to shocking glitter, a husk from which the knight departed long ago. Yet there it is: dumb, predatory, sentimental. Exciting reverence in schoolchildren, providing shelter for despots, summoning false memories of stability, harmony among the public.

The American criminal justice system is the knight that long ago departed from the lifeless husk of its shiny armor. What she looks like without her armor is grotesque, and the more than 2.2 million souls languishing in prisons and jails across the nation—a growing percentage of which are actually innocent—stand as her accusers against her and the bureaucracy that sustains her malice and general disregard for human dignity or life. The bureaucracy is the very collective of individuals who peddle public records for private gain, or otherwise deny legitimate requests as "broad and burdensome" without ever considering how burdensome it is to sit in prison for something you didn't do. Criminal justice reform is necessary, but so long as we are collectively unwilling to confront the grotesquery of our actual reflection in the mirror, we will never accomplish anything more lip service to a hierarchy that drinks the blood from the brutality that it wields through the otherwise blind bureaucracy of its people. Reform requires more. It demands that we take the time to do more than just place an occasional vote, delegating our duties to others; it requires cognizance, reflection, followed by an unrelenting determination to see to it that the lofty inscriptions on our lovely buildings are actually representative of what takes place in those buildings.

Image: Courthouse, Courtesy of Reddit

FOOTNOTES:

1. Danielle Kaeble & Mary Cowhig, Correctional Populations in the United States, 2016, U.S. Dept. Justice (Apr. 2018), https://www.bjs.gov/content/pub/pdf/cpus16.pdf

2. Michelle Ye He Lee, Does the United States Really Have 5 Percent of the World's Population and One Quarter of the World's Prisoners? Wash. Post. (Apr. 30, 2015), https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/fact-checker/wp/2015/04/30/does-the-united-states-really-have-five-percent-of-the-worlds-population-and-one-quarter-of-the-worlds-prisoners 3. Karakatsanis, Alec, "Usual Cruelty: The Complicity of Lawyers in the Criminal Injustice System" https//audiobooks.com/audiobooks/usual-cruelty-the-complicity-of-lawyers-in-the-criminal-justice-system

4. Toni Morrison, Nobel Lecture (Dec. 7, 1993) https://www.nobelprize.org/prizes/literature/1993/morrison/lecture