Thursday, April 06, 2023

Real Life Is Nothing Like TeeVee

emptywheel loves to chide reporters for reporting that an investigation is "heating up." She maintained a thread for sometime that would update with new tweets reflecting this "activity" in any one of the four investigations into Donald Trump.  While she never put it this way, the very idea that an investigation is "becoming more serious" is a TV melodrama trope.  Because the fact is the most realistic TeeVee with regard to criminal investigations is something like "Midsomer Murders" more than it is "Law and Order" or "CSI."

I watch "Midsomer Murders" in re-runs on the local PBS channel.  The shows are usually divided into two 45 minute episodes which I assume are broadcast per week, so you get one new story every two weeks.  There is a simple pattern:  a murder, an investigation, lots of moving about talking to people and going back to talk to people ("Why didn't you tell us about?") and some revelation from the pathologist or the crime scene, and more going back to talk to people (and always several more murders.  The police department really seems to be the most hapless in civilization.) until finally the investigation and the multiple murders and the carpet fibers or something, triggers a revelation and the murderer is cornered and confesses.

Nothing at all like real life, in other words.  But at least it moves stumblingly in the dark, assembling information until the murderer (who is always  a serial killer, leaving more and more bodies, and so evidence, piling up) is finally uncovered.  So not at all unlike a real criminal investigation, except the investigation can't be crammed into 90 minutes.

emptywheel's article is worth reading, so I only quote this much to give you a fair idea of what an investigation like this takes:

As I noted here, investigations in the era of cloud computing usually follow a clear logic:

Use subpoenas to obtain metadata to identify key subjects
Use metadata to obtain cloud warrants of subjects
Use cloud warrants to obtain warrants for phones (a necessary step if encrypted apps were used in furtherance of a crime, as was the case in the lead-up to January 6)
Use overt subpoenas for other witnesses to obtain evidence
Obtain grand jury testimony from witnesses

By the time the first overt subpoenas and warrants go out — which in the January 6 case was May 2022, though in the case of Sidney Powell was September 2021 — DOJ will already have obtained metadata and cloud content from key subjects of the investigation. Only after DOJ works through that covertly obtained evidence does it start doing the things that alert subjects to the scope of the investigation by subpoenaing other witnesses or seizing phones.

Even in a garden variety investigation, it can take six months from the date of seizure of a subject’s phone until an arrest. This was true even in the militia conspiracy cases, where arrests were an attempt to stave off further violence, in part because FBI was exploiting so many phones.

Yeah, you don't go from the crime scene (MAL; the Capitol Building) to buttonholing people to ask them questions (the favored practice of TV detectives the English speaking world over; well, in all crime dramas, from what I've seen) to suddenly realizing whodunit and arresting them with the certainty of a judicial conviction.  All those people conveniently tell the police what they know (who never take any notes!), and that's enough!  No need to bother with tedious depositions or grand jury testimony or warrants to get evidence (warrants are often mentioned, but the evidence appears back at the station, conveniently bagged and tagged and helpfully presented to move the narrative forward, not puzzled over to figure out whether this bit is important, or not).  And, of course, ultimately no need even for the trial:  the accused always confesses, so that the story can close with justice done.

Why can't real life be like that?  Well, review just those paragraphs quoted above, and you get a pretty good idea.  Sworn testimony, for example, is much better in court than "I didn't say that?  Who says I said that?  Officer Jones?  Did he right it down?  I didn't seem him write anything down!"  And six months from getting a phone to making an arrest?  Why?  On TeeVee they always get the data from the phone 10 seconds after you know they have it, and arrests are always before the next commercial break. 

TeeVee cops never get to a jury trial; and if they do, they almost never have drama like this:

3 comments:

  1. (I wrote most of this last night, but wanted some time this morning to think about it and if I wanted to even post the comment. I ask your patience and forgiveness for the length and even some of the content. Yesterday was a journey)

    The last tweet brought back a memory. A dozen years ago I served for 5 weeks on a federal jury a racketeering trial against a drug gang in Rochester NY. Given the time commitment, the judge was very careful with the time we needed to be at court, he wanted to avoid making us sit around. So motions and arguments during the trial were done after we went home or on days we had off. Woe be to any of the lawyers that brought up issues that could have been another time, the judge was going to be seriously unhappy. One morning we arrived and were told we were going to have to wait a while, which turned into hours. One juror was missing. Eventually the missing juror appeared and we were taken into the court for an explanation. That morning the juror had received a call with a caller ID for the local county jail. He didn't answer, but called the number we had been given to contact the court. Several potential jurors had declined being seated out of fear of retaliation from the gang. Early in the trial a juror quit, having second thoughts about the risk. The federal marshals and sheriff's department sprang into action thinking the call could have been potential jury intimidation. They traced the call, checked the jail phone records and identified the prisoner. As it turned out, a hapless inmate had misdialed their girlfriend, wife or lawyer who had a phone number one digit different. All this had to be confirmed before the trial could be restarted. There was no fooling around when it came to protecting the jury.


    The racketeering trial was for three young gang members charged with conspiracies to traffic drugs, traffic drugs with firearms, 5 attempted murders, and the heart of the case, a murder. There were 70+ witnesses including police, lab techs, other gang members, victims and witnesses to various crimes. The centerpiece was a suburbanite that traded his AR-15 to the gang for drugs. (Most of the money from drug sales came from the suburbs). The gun was subsequently used to shoot up the house party of a rival gang. Several people were wounded and a 15-year-old girl that had gone to the party with some friends was killed. Her name was Carmella Rogers.

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  2. A dozen years later Carmella Rogers (really her family and friends) remains on my prayer list. She will always remain on my prayer list. For reasons I can’t really explain I feel bound to her. As jurors we stood in witness to what had happened, none of us will forget the testimony of a witness as he described what it is like as a 15 year old girl bleeds out on the floor and dies. We were part of a process that delivered what little could pass as justice under the circumstances. Collectively as the jury we delivered guilty verdicts for the murder and for most of the other charges, we were polled and individually gave our verdicts too. As jurors we learned about and discussed the defendants. The defendants were three young men from a poor neighborhood that was literally down the road from my job at the time. One of them dropped out of school in eighth grade, the other two never finished high school. They started out selling drugs for older gang members and eventually formed their own gang. At the time of the trial they were all in their early twenties. After the verdict was delivered the judge cleared the room and spoke with the jury. He thanked us for our service in a difficult and long case. He also spoke that why while he wished we had made a change, that in reality he would continue to have young people flow through his courtroom from what was happening in the city. Nothing would change.

    Tonight I sang with the choir at a Tenebrae service. Before the service the pastor led a prayer with the choir and mentioned it has been four years since we have been able to have a normal Holy Week with Tenebrae, and all that the pandemic has left between. We started in the choir pews by the altar. The pastor spoke about how the Maundy in Maundy Thursday relates to the new commandment, to “love one another as I have loved you”. I had read the post earlier in the day and Carmella Rogers was on my mind. As I sat there thinking about the commandment to love one another, I thought of how we had failed to love Carmella Rogers by our failing to get guns out of our society. How we had failed to love those three young men with a society that lived with desperate poverty, schools that inevitably failed because they are under resourced and asked to deal with all the problems we don’t want to address elsewhere like hunger, homelessness, housing insecurity, violence, and more. How love brings responsibility, responsibility to the victim and to the perpetrators. I am my brother’s keeper and all are my brothers.

    The choir eventually stood, and acapella, sang Ave Verum by William Byrd, before joining the congregation in the pews. The lead pastor gave a moving sermon about the betrayers, deniers and deserters at the table, yet Jesus loved all of them even though he knew what they would do. That we are not Jesus, but we are still asked to love the betrayers, deniers and deserters. We are not Jesus, and will often fail to love our betrayers, deniers and deserters. And that we ourselves are the betrayers, deniers and deserters, and we are loved too.

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  3. As the pastors began to prepare the communion table, it all came rushing in. Carmella Rogers, the children and teachers killed in Tennessee, the eighth grade drop-out defendant, my eighth grade son, the Tennessee House of Representatives reaction, the gutting of public schools here in New Hampshire, the pandemic, the lost job, the move, the deaths of my best friend and mother-in-law, the failing relationship, the stresses, the worries, my own betrayals, denials and desertions, the last supper, the cross. It was all too much. My face grew hot and tears started to leak as I listened to the words of institution over the bread and wine. I didn’t want to be embarrassed so I tried to pull myself together before I went forward for communion (is there anything more human than embarrassment? The things we will do and the lengths we will go to avoid embarrassment.) Sitting back down the tears returned. At some point I realized the congregation was sitting and singing a hymn. I fumbled for the hymnal and found the page. My words stumbled as I joined mid-verse What Wondrous Love is This, but the simple melody and unison singing helped me find my voice and get my legs back under me. After the hymn, the service continued with alternating readings and music. The sanctuary gradually dimmed and the candles were extinguished in turn until we sat in near darkness. The cross was covered with a cloth in silence. The service ended as silence. We rose and left the church, in silence.

    Peace be with you.

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