Friday, August 8, 2008
Me v. Chuck Muth
In case anyone happened to take a look at this blog to see if I've responded to Chuck Muth's attack on me, I have (just on another blog): check out the last few entries in my other blog, which you can find here.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
The Exclusionary Rule
The NY Times ran this article yesterday on what's known as the Exclusionary Rule. In1914 the Supreme Court ruled in Weeks v. United States that if law enforcement officials find evidence by breaking the law or violating your Constitutional rights, they can't use that evidence against you in a federal court. The Rule was then extended to the local and state level in Mapp v. Ohio (1961). While there's a good deal of nuance in the various opinions handed down by the Supreme Court, there is one important exception: if the police can prove that they would have uncovered the evidence in question if they hadn't broken the law or violated the Constitution, the evidence is admissible.
So, for example, if the police break into my home without a search warrant and find that I have a giant cocaine factory in my basement, they can't use the evidence they found in my house to convict me. If, however, the police can prove that they could have had a judge sign a search warrant and uncovered the evidence that way, i.e., without violating my rights, then the evidence is admissible, and I'm pretty much screwed.
The Times article clearly indicates that the Rule is controversial and that many people think it ought to be thrown out. In my not-so-humble opinion, that's just plain wrong: the Exclusionary Rule needs to be kept in place. Three important points:
1. The only evidence the Exclusionary Rule excludes is evidence that the police didn't obtain legally and can't even prove they could have obtained legally. I can't think of a single good reason why the police should be entitled to use evidence that they had no right to have found in the first place. The Exclusionary Rule just makes sure that the outcome of a case is the same as it would have been if everyone followed the rules. It's the same principle referees use in assigning penalties in football, or any other sport: the penalty is intended to take away any advantage the offending team got by not playing by the rules.
2. In that same vein, if the police broke the law but can prove that they could have gotten the evidence legally, they can use it. The same principle is at work here: by allowing the evidence to be used, the judge is making sure the outcome is again the same as it would have been if the police obeyed the law.
3. The major argument the Times emphasized in getting rid of the Exclusionary Rule has to do with the supposed social cost: "The criminal is to go free because the constable has blundered.” Unfortunately, that's not an accurate characterization of what happens: it's not as though the police have an air-tight case and because of some legal technicality the criminal gets off; the police wouldn't have had a good case to begin with if they hadn't violated the defendant's rights. The criminal doesn't go free because the constable blundered; the criminal goes free because there was no way to legally get the evidence needed to convict him or her.
One final example. Consider two cases:
Case 1: a 7-11 is robbed, and the police believe Joe is the culprit. The police believe the money Joe stole is in his house, but they don't have probable cause to get a search warrant. Since these are good, law-abiding police officers, they're forced to let Joe go and not charge him with burglary.
Case 2: a 7-11 is robbed, and the police believe George is the culprit. The police believe the money Joe stole is in his house, but they don't have probable cause to get a search warrant. Since these aren't particularly good police officers, they chose to break into his house anyway, knowing it's a gross violation of his rights. The police find the stolen money and charge George.
If we were to abolish the Exclusionary Rule, Joe would get off, but George would be convicted of burglary. Not that I don't like the idea of George being charged for something he's guilty of, but here's the problem: George is convicted because the police violated his rights.
Does anyone really believe that's not unjust?
So, for example, if the police break into my home without a search warrant and find that I have a giant cocaine factory in my basement, they can't use the evidence they found in my house to convict me. If, however, the police can prove that they could have had a judge sign a search warrant and uncovered the evidence that way, i.e., without violating my rights, then the evidence is admissible, and I'm pretty much screwed.
The Times article clearly indicates that the Rule is controversial and that many people think it ought to be thrown out. In my not-so-humble opinion, that's just plain wrong: the Exclusionary Rule needs to be kept in place. Three important points:
1. The only evidence the Exclusionary Rule excludes is evidence that the police didn't obtain legally and can't even prove they could have obtained legally. I can't think of a single good reason why the police should be entitled to use evidence that they had no right to have found in the first place. The Exclusionary Rule just makes sure that the outcome of a case is the same as it would have been if everyone followed the rules. It's the same principle referees use in assigning penalties in football, or any other sport: the penalty is intended to take away any advantage the offending team got by not playing by the rules.
2. In that same vein, if the police broke the law but can prove that they could have gotten the evidence legally, they can use it. The same principle is at work here: by allowing the evidence to be used, the judge is making sure the outcome is again the same as it would have been if the police obeyed the law.
3. The major argument the Times emphasized in getting rid of the Exclusionary Rule has to do with the supposed social cost: "The criminal is to go free because the constable has blundered.” Unfortunately, that's not an accurate characterization of what happens: it's not as though the police have an air-tight case and because of some legal technicality the criminal gets off; the police wouldn't have had a good case to begin with if they hadn't violated the defendant's rights. The criminal doesn't go free because the constable blundered; the criminal goes free because there was no way to legally get the evidence needed to convict him or her.
One final example. Consider two cases:
Case 1: a 7-11 is robbed, and the police believe Joe is the culprit. The police believe the money Joe stole is in his house, but they don't have probable cause to get a search warrant. Since these are good, law-abiding police officers, they're forced to let Joe go and not charge him with burglary.
Case 2: a 7-11 is robbed, and the police believe George is the culprit. The police believe the money Joe stole is in his house, but they don't have probable cause to get a search warrant. Since these aren't particularly good police officers, they chose to break into his house anyway, knowing it's a gross violation of his rights. The police find the stolen money and charge George.
If we were to abolish the Exclusionary Rule, Joe would get off, but George would be convicted of burglary. Not that I don't like the idea of George being charged for something he's guilty of, but here's the problem: George is convicted because the police violated his rights.
Does anyone really believe that's not unjust?
Friday, July 18, 2008
Four Ways Not to Be a Jerk
For those of you who may or may not know, I'm from Nevada (arguably the greatest state in the Union, but that's beside the point), and I try to keep up with local politics there, which is what got me to reading a blog by a guy named Chuck Muth. Muth, for those of you (probably everyone) who don't know, is a Carson City-based conservative commentator who is, to put it nicely, a jerk. In light of some recent things he's written, I now introduce my handy Guide to Not Being a Jerk On Your Blog, dedicated to Chuck.
One important point: usually I'd provide links where I quote or reference something, but in this case I really don't want to give Muth's blog any free advertising by linking to his website; instead, I'll make sure I include enough info so that, if you're so inclined, you can do a search and find the reference yourself.
1. Don't make up rude nicknames for people who disagree with you. Though there are quite a few examples of this practice, in particular I'm thinking of Muth's calling Ron Paul supporters "Paultards."
2. Don't selectively delete comments from people just because you disagree with them. Regarding a Nevada teacher's union, Muth wrote:
3. If you DO selectively delete comments, don't lie about it: After another reader pointed out Muth was deleting comments, Muth wrote:
4. If someone points out that you've lied about what comments you delete, don't be a jerk: I politely pointed out (and you can check my wording if you'd like to see it) that Muth deleted my comment which had nothing to do with Ron Paul. Muth responded with, "Dear Moral Guy, here’s today’s lesson: Life’s not fair. Get over it." Not only is he ignoring that he lied, he chose to be rude and pretend as though he had done nothing wrong.
< /rant >
You might ask, how is this anything but my ranting about a personal vendetta? OK, maybe it is a little, but I do have a legitimate ethics-related point to make: people who write in newspapers, journals, blogs, magazines or whatever are bound, ethically if not legally, by certain rules of conduct. We might disagree about what precisely those rules are, but it's not hard to list some that everyone would agree with, including:
1. Show respect for others by refraining from calling people derogatory names.
2. Only report or write information you have good reason to believe is true.
3. Don't lie, especially to make yourself look better.
While I admit I'm not President of the Chuck Muth Fan Club, I still think I can fairly say he was out of line.
One important point: usually I'd provide links where I quote or reference something, but in this case I really don't want to give Muth's blog any free advertising by linking to his website; instead, I'll make sure I include enough info so that, if you're so inclined, you can do a search and find the reference yourself.
1. Don't make up rude nicknames for people who disagree with you. Though there are quite a few examples of this practice, in particular I'm thinking of Muth's calling Ron Paul supporters "Paultards."
2. Don't selectively delete comments from people just because you disagree with them. Regarding a Nevada teacher's union, Muth wrote:
If an education reform will benefit students but not members of the union, then the union will strenuously object to the reform.I pointed out in a comment that, according to him, if there were some magic policy change that helped every child in the school district and neither hurt nor helped the teachers, the union would supposedly fight it every step of the way. I wrote "Riiight. That's not exactly a fair characterization." My comment was deleted within a couple of hours.
3. If you DO selectively delete comments, don't lie about it: After another reader pointed out Muth was deleting comments, Muth wrote:
I am selectively deleting comments which put forward paranoid and inaccurate information. If you want to spread your BS, do it on your own blog. I’ll note that I’ve never had to take this kind of action for anyone other than Paultards…including liberals.Ignoring the rude tone, it turns out that he's lying: my comment had nothing to do with Ron Paul, nor am I a Ron Paul supporter; it was neither paranoid nor inaccurate. Moreover, Muth also deleted another comment regarding teachers unions that again had no connection to Ron Paul within the last 24 hours.
4. If someone points out that you've lied about what comments you delete, don't be a jerk: I politely pointed out (and you can check my wording if you'd like to see it) that Muth deleted my comment which had nothing to do with Ron Paul. Muth responded with, "Dear Moral Guy, here’s today’s lesson: Life’s not fair. Get over it." Not only is he ignoring that he lied, he chose to be rude and pretend as though he had done nothing wrong.
< /rant >
***
You might ask, how is this anything but my ranting about a personal vendetta? OK, maybe it is a little, but I do have a legitimate ethics-related point to make: people who write in newspapers, journals, blogs, magazines or whatever are bound, ethically if not legally, by certain rules of conduct. We might disagree about what precisely those rules are, but it's not hard to list some that everyone would agree with, including:
1. Show respect for others by refraining from calling people derogatory names.
2. Only report or write information you have good reason to believe is true.
3. Don't lie, especially to make yourself look better.
While I admit I'm not President of the Chuck Muth Fan Club, I still think I can fairly say he was out of line.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Lots of Cases!
I've started doing a little reading of cases in preparation for law school (and, I admit, somewhat out of enjoyment of going back to my Philosophy of Law class and looking over the more interesting scenarios we covered). While I'm sure there will be much to hate about 3 years of law school, I think one consistent silver lining is that a good portion of what we'll read are opinions, meaning you get an interesting anecdote for most concepts you study. And in that vein, I thought I'd share an interesting case I just read, Regina v. Dudley and Stephens. Fair warning: this is a pretty creepy case.
The Case:
You can read the full background at that link I posted, but here's the basics: three men, Dudley, Stephens and and Brooks, along with a younger boy, Richard Parker, were sailing some kind of a boat, which was destroyed by a minor weather occurrence thousands of miles away from land. The four of them piled into a very small life raft with only two tinfuls of turnips and no fresh water. From July 7th to July 23rd of that year (1884), the four had almost nothing to drink or eat, and were near death. After some discussion between the three men, Dudley and Stephens decided that the boy, who was likely the most weakened of all four, would have to be killed in order to save the others. Brooks did not agree to the plan (which explains why he was not a co-defendant), and in the early morning of July 24th, Dudley held down the boy while Stephens stuck his penknife into the boy's jugular vein, killing him. On July 29th, the three men were found by another boat after subsisting on the boy's remains for nearly a week. After a long & involved legal process, Dudley and Stephens charged with first-degree murder and convicted.
Eventually the Queen's Bench, which is some kind of appellate court in England (possibly the highest court--I don't really know), heard the case and ruled that there was no excuse of necessity, that Dudley and Stephens were guilty of murder, and that they were therefore sentenced to death.
My Thoughts:
I think the court was clearly right in ruling that the excuse of necessity doesn't apply here, because of one very important fact of the case: the three men never consulted with Parker and decided, without his input, that he would be the one to die. In similar cases (yes, this has happened more than once) where the survivors drew lots to determine who should be killed, there was a legitimate excuse, which was recognized by courts. But for a person to decide to save himself by killing the weakest person, and to do it without even talking to the victim, is clearly murder.
But there's still a question of whether, in cases where a person must kill in order to save himself, the individual ought to be punished. Especially difficult in this case was the fact that all four men were slowly starving death over several weeks, with no realistic hope of survival except to commit a terrible crime; I think it would be hard to seriously condemn someone who made the wrong choice.
The court, by the way, agreed that a lesser punishment was appropriate: it wrote, "...if in any case the law appears to be too severe on individuals, to leave it to the Sovereign to exercise that prerogative of mercy which the Constitution has intrusted to the hands fittest to dispense it."
Dudley & Stephens were sentenced to 6 months imprisonment and then released.
The Case:
You can read the full background at that link I posted, but here's the basics: three men, Dudley, Stephens and and Brooks, along with a younger boy, Richard Parker, were sailing some kind of a boat, which was destroyed by a minor weather occurrence thousands of miles away from land. The four of them piled into a very small life raft with only two tinfuls of turnips and no fresh water. From July 7th to July 23rd of that year (1884), the four had almost nothing to drink or eat, and were near death. After some discussion between the three men, Dudley and Stephens decided that the boy, who was likely the most weakened of all four, would have to be killed in order to save the others. Brooks did not agree to the plan (which explains why he was not a co-defendant), and in the early morning of July 24th, Dudley held down the boy while Stephens stuck his penknife into the boy's jugular vein, killing him. On July 29th, the three men were found by another boat after subsisting on the boy's remains for nearly a week. After a long & involved legal process, Dudley and Stephens charged with first-degree murder and convicted.
Eventually the Queen's Bench, which is some kind of appellate court in England (possibly the highest court--I don't really know), heard the case and ruled that there was no excuse of necessity, that Dudley and Stephens were guilty of murder, and that they were therefore sentenced to death.
My Thoughts:
I think the court was clearly right in ruling that the excuse of necessity doesn't apply here, because of one very important fact of the case: the three men never consulted with Parker and decided, without his input, that he would be the one to die. In similar cases (yes, this has happened more than once) where the survivors drew lots to determine who should be killed, there was a legitimate excuse, which was recognized by courts. But for a person to decide to save himself by killing the weakest person, and to do it without even talking to the victim, is clearly murder.
But there's still a question of whether, in cases where a person must kill in order to save himself, the individual ought to be punished. Especially difficult in this case was the fact that all four men were slowly starving death over several weeks, with no realistic hope of survival except to commit a terrible crime; I think it would be hard to seriously condemn someone who made the wrong choice.
The court, by the way, agreed that a lesser punishment was appropriate: it wrote, "...if in any case the law appears to be too severe on individuals, to leave it to the Sovereign to exercise that prerogative of mercy which the Constitution has intrusted to the hands fittest to dispense it."
Dudley & Stephens were sentenced to 6 months imprisonment and then released.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Vaccines and Autism: Is There a Link?
I'll admit that this is more of a rant than an involved ethical discussion on the subject, but I recently had to read through a not-so-respectful exchange on whether or not vaccines cause diseases like autism, where people with no scientific or medical background apparently felt qualified to discuss highly specialized subjects in those fields.
The answer is No. Let me just say that one more time: there is no evidence vaccines cause autism. Period. The fact is that there is literally no scientific evidence which in any way connects infants who receive vaccines to children who later develop development disorders. No matter how many conspiracy articles/books/websites you read, the scientific community has unanimously denounced the connection.
What I think is particularly terrible about the way this rumor has (apparently) gained some legitimacy is that a) it preys on the basic fears of new parents, and b) to the extent that it is believed, it effectively denies helpless children medical care which saves lives. If you want to believe there's a gigantic conspiracy the government's managed to keep under wraps about the Kennedy Assassination for 60 years, or that the Bush Administration orchestrated the September 11th terrorist attacks, go ahead; if you think the End of the World is near, go build a cabin the woods and live off of Twinkies and Fanta. But *please* don't force your "alternative lifestyle" on children in a way that puts their lives in danger.
The answer is No. Let me just say that one more time: there is no evidence vaccines cause autism. Period. The fact is that there is literally no scientific evidence which in any way connects infants who receive vaccines to children who later develop development disorders. No matter how many conspiracy articles/books/websites you read, the scientific community has unanimously denounced the connection.
What I think is particularly terrible about the way this rumor has (apparently) gained some legitimacy is that a) it preys on the basic fears of new parents, and b) to the extent that it is believed, it effectively denies helpless children medical care which saves lives. If you want to believe there's a gigantic conspiracy the government's managed to keep under wraps about the Kennedy Assassination for 60 years, or that the Bush Administration orchestrated the September 11th terrorist attacks, go ahead; if you think the End of the World is near, go build a cabin the woods and live off of Twinkies and Fanta. But *please* don't force your "alternative lifestyle" on children in a way that puts their lives in danger.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Shamless Plug
Check out the right-hand column of my blog...there's a poll asking how ethical of a person you think you are. Not that it matters for anything, but I'd love to have more than 5 votes. So come on, people I know who regularly check this blog, but haven't responded (hurrah for Google Analytics), click an answer and make me feel better!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Lies, Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies
Apologies for the long break between posts, but I've been busy these last few days and have just now taken a look at this blog and realized I should write something! Today's topic has to do with lies (and, perhaps, the lying liars who tell them). More specifically, I want to consider the idea of white lies, those tiny untruths people tell mostly to try and make others feel better.
Let's start by considering a situation you've probably found yourself in:
Let's start by all agreeing that, generally speaking, people are obligated to be truthful to each other and that only some kind of special circumstance could justify or excuse lying. In the case of Sofia, the answer to whether or not you may lie has to do with what you think the answer to this question is: Does Sofia expect that you will tell the truth?
Let's assume that Sofia does not expect you to be brutally honest with her in your response. In that case, she's probably asking you in order to gauge the way that you frame your response. If you say "You look fantastic!", she'll think you like her new dress; if you say "you look fine" or "that's certainly an interesting choice," she's likely to read between the lines and understand that you don't think she looks fine, or that by "interesting" you really mean "stupid." If, on the other hand, she does expect you to tell her the truth, then, uncomfortable as it may be, you do need to be more literally honest (which of course doesn't mean you have to say "you look hideous!" One can be truthful and tactful at the same time).
To put it another way, Sofia is looking for you to be honest, which doesn't necessarily mean she wants you to be truthful. The concept of sarcasm acts in much the same way: if I make a comment like "that business meeting certainly did not make me want to shove my head into an oven!" my listener will probably realize my real intent. In both cases, it's the message I'm communicating that's important, and not necessarily the literal meaning of the words I employ.
Which of course brings us to an important point about the ethics of lying: namely, that our obligation to the truth has much more to do with communication, not the words that we use. I have to make an honest effort to ensure the idea I'm communicating to you is true, and I can do that through a number of different means, including some where I tell a lie.
Let's start by considering a situation you've probably found yourself in:
Sofia, a co-worker of yours, comes by your desk and asks if you like her new dress. Maybe what she's wearing isn't quite as bad as this, but it's still something you don't think makes her too appealing. You also happen to know that Sofia herself really likes her new look, and would be hurt if you gave her your honest opinion. Is it okay to lie?Most people who are really trying to answer ethically are going to say that no, you can't lie: after all, the truth sometimes hurts, but lying is wrong. But I don't think that this is exactly right.
Let's start by all agreeing that, generally speaking, people are obligated to be truthful to each other and that only some kind of special circumstance could justify or excuse lying. In the case of Sofia, the answer to whether or not you may lie has to do with what you think the answer to this question is: Does Sofia expect that you will tell the truth?
Let's assume that Sofia does not expect you to be brutally honest with her in your response. In that case, she's probably asking you in order to gauge the way that you frame your response. If you say "You look fantastic!", she'll think you like her new dress; if you say "you look fine" or "that's certainly an interesting choice," she's likely to read between the lines and understand that you don't think she looks fine, or that by "interesting" you really mean "stupid." If, on the other hand, she does expect you to tell her the truth, then, uncomfortable as it may be, you do need to be more literally honest (which of course doesn't mean you have to say "you look hideous!" One can be truthful and tactful at the same time).
To put it another way, Sofia is looking for you to be honest, which doesn't necessarily mean she wants you to be truthful. The concept of sarcasm acts in much the same way: if I make a comment like "that business meeting certainly did not make me want to shove my head into an oven!" my listener will probably realize my real intent. In both cases, it's the message I'm communicating that's important, and not necessarily the literal meaning of the words I employ.
Which of course brings us to an important point about the ethics of lying: namely, that our obligation to the truth has much more to do with communication, not the words that we use. I have to make an honest effort to ensure the idea I'm communicating to you is true, and I can do that through a number of different means, including some where I tell a lie.
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