The Coffee Table

373

In defense of Public Defenders

The concept of presumed innocence is a cornerstone of our legal system. Deprived of it, citizens might be imprisoned without due process, on the whim of a tyrant in governmental power—an injustice we, as a nation, go to lengths to resist around the globe. As a general rule, our citizenry abhors the idea of a person exiled to Siberia— whether proverbial or the real deal—without the establishment of their guilt, beyond a reasonable doubt.

But along with the presumption of innocence must come an opportunity to actively defend oneself against fraudulent charges. While the burden of proof lies with the prosecution, an innocent defendant can’t sit idle and hope the truth will emerge victorious. The government will have its trained and well-funded forces working to make the charges stick. There must be an equal opportunity for the defendant to disprove or cast doubt upon the charges—whether or not the defendant can afford an attorney. Anything less is blatantly unfair and opens the door to tyrannical behavior on the part of the government.  

This is why the position of public defender is essential to ensure our judicial system is befitting a democracy. If we can’t declare our innocence in a strong, clear voice because we are too poor and/or too uneducated in the particulars of the law to combat the voices of government-funded prosecutors, we become a nation of tyranny, wherein only the rich and politically empowered have access to “justice.”

So why, then, has the notion of a public defender come to mean “soft on crime?”    

Some folks would say that those who are guilty don’t deserve a defense at public expense: Paying for the guilty party’s public defender is, in essence, supporting crime. But for the process to work, everybody must be eligible for the public defenders’ services. Otherwise, there is no presumption of innocence.  

Public defenders are every bit as important to our system of justice as prosecutors. Yet some people spit out the term “public defender” as if it is a dirty word. As if it deeply mars the character of the person who holds—or held—the position. To suggest some inferiority or impropriety because a person served as a public defender strikes me as short-sighted at best. For a public official to do so during the Supreme Court confirmation hearing is malicious political theater. Perhaps even Putinesque.

To advocate that public defenders, as a group, are not fit for high office is like denying capability on the basis of race, gender, ethnicity, or sexual orientation. It’s simply nonsensical.

Imagine, for a moment, you are the defendant in the hot seat of a criminal trial. You’ve done nothing wrong. Less than nothing. You were in your living room watching Netflix while the crime was being committed. But somebody in a position of power pointed the finger at you. Because you once dated his wife. Or published a tweet that rubbed him the wrong way. Or were born in a country the powerful person regards as a sh*t-hole nation.

And now you’re facing faulty charges that could land you in a cell for life.Your bank account is insubstantial. You don’t have any friends who are lawyers in lofty places. You didn’t do anything—but you have no recourse.  Would you not be crying out for a publicly funded attorney? For the chance to proficiently and publicly air your side?

Public defenders should be held in equal esteem with prosecutors. Especially by people in power. Anything less reeks of totalitarianism.