The case against Lori Drew has been dismissed (more or less) by the federal judge who was hearing the case. This counts as very good news...but not exactly wonderful news.

For those not following the case, Lori Drew used MySpace email to play a cruel trick on a teenage girl named Megan Meier, who killed herself. Prosecutors in Drew's home state of Missouri didn't prosecute her for this, probably (I'm guessing) because saying mean things to little girls isn't a criminal act.

That didn't stop grandstanding U.S. Attorney Thomas P. O'Brien from stepping in. Even though he was located 1500 miles away in the Central District of California, he used the fact that MySpace's computers were located in California to charge Drew with computer fraud because she violated MySpace's Terms and Conditions when she used fake information to setup her account.

In other words, he didn't prosecute Lori Drew for what she did to Megan Meier, he prosecuted her for what she did to MySpace.

That's a horrifying precedent. Millions of Americans provide false information to web sites, sometimes to be sneaky, sometimes to preserve their privacy, and sometimes just out of vanity. This interpretation of the law makes criminals of them all.

As the judge put it:

"Is a misdemeanor committed by the conduct which is done every single day by millions and millions of people?" Wu asked. "If these people do read [the terms of service] and still say they're 40 when they are 45, is that a misdemeanor?"

Some people have tried to defend this interpretation by pointing out that federal prosecutors just wanted to punish Lori Drew. They aren't about to file charges against millions of Americans. Of course not. I'm not worried about them filing charges against millions of Americans. What does scare me, however, is the thought of federal prosecutors having the ability to file charges, at any time, against any one of several million Americans.

This time they filed charges against Lori Drew, who, in the grand scheme of things, deserved a crapload of grief. But who would have been next? Someone else who did an awful thing that couldn't be prosecuted any other way? Or perhaps just someone who pissed off a prosecutor. It's not hard to imagine O'Brien or some other self-important federal prosecutor (I'm lookin' at you, Mary Beth Buchanan!) going after some of their detractors for giving false information when they signed up for a blogging account.

Fortunately, Judge Wu is dismissing the case, and he's dismissing it not on the facts or on some procedural error, but because he doesn't think the computer fraud statutes apply so broadly. This gives all of us cause to breath a little easier.

(Hat tip: Ken) 

Update: I have edited this post to emphasize the prosecutor's grandstanding, as suggested by Ken in his comment below.

In response to my earlier post of a couple of thoughts on healthcare, a reader called "bunkerbuster" throws a few interesting questions my way:

What's your view on demand for health care?

The market model would have it increase to infinity if it becomes zero cost to the consumer.

Generally, that is the rule, but I think "bunkerbuster" is right to be skeptical for three reasons. First of all, the market model is a model, and nobody seriously expects models to work at the extremes. Having an infinity turn up in the middle of your model is usually a sign that you've gone too far.

Second, healthcare has non-financial costs---such as the time it takes from a busy day and the fact that it's often very uncomfortable---that prevent the true cost to the consumer from ever dropping away to zero.

Third, like everything else, healthcare has diminishing returns. The most important bits of medical care are extremely important to your health, but additional care is less and less valuable. These returns likely diminish all the way to zero---or at least below the costs mentioned in the previous item. Once you've fixed everything that's wrong with you, why would you buy more healthcare, even if it's free?

(Of course, health problems can be defined down. Back when most children never made it to adulthood, nobody worried about allergies. Nowadays, people take pills to get rid of toenail fungus, and some plastic surgeons have lobbied to have small breasts classified as a disorder.)

But in reality, the non-union pipefitter who can now afford to have regular check ups may well have significantly lower long-term demand for medical services.

So here's a point to ponder: If preventive care reduces long-term costs, shouldn't we expect uninsured people to consume a lot of preventive care, since they are more directly exposed to the costs? That's apparently not what happens, however, because our healthcare system already includes a distortion in healthcare pricing, as illustrated by the last part of the comment:

And there's always the classic emergency room scenario in which demand for those ER resources balloons because the poor have nowhere else to go and because minor problems go untreated until they are emergencies...

This happens because hospital emergency rooms aren't allowed to turn people away, even if they can't pay. For poor people, this artificially lowers the price of emergency care with respect to non-emergency care, which distorts the healthcare decision-making process. From the indigent patient's point of view, emergency care is cheaper than non-emergency care. And when something has a low price, people buy more of it.

Since non-emergency situations can progress into emergencies if untreated, this creates some perverse financial incentives for poor people to avoid preventive medical care. But what are the alternatives? Refusing emergency care to people who can't pay? Paying for every doctor's visit, no matter how unnecessary? There are no easy answers.

(And, just to mix things up a bit, some statistical evidence suggests that the benefits of preventive care aren't as clear-cut as we might suppose.)

Random shots around the web:

• Federal conspiracy charges coming in 5...4...3...2...


• Turns out many diagnoses of Shaken Baby Syndrome weren't actually caused by people shaking the baby. Lots of people may have gone for jail for mild accidents that took place days before the murder-by-shaking supposedly occurred.


• This sort of thing is why I'll never let animal-shelter employees lecture me about caring for animals. Read all these comments for more.


• I have to admit, I really was hoping there'd be some truth to this. That would have been awesome. It would be the ultimate weird ending.

(Hat tip: Radley)

I'm probably being unfair, but it seems like Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas is a bit of a dumbass. (Or maybe, as fair Jennifer says, we should have listened to Anita Hill.) That's really the only way to account for his explanation of why it was okay for a school principal to order a strip search of a 13-year-old girl to try to find some ibuprofen.

Thomas was the only Justice that thought this was okay. There are a number of ways he might have tried to justify his opinion---stare decisis, in loco parentis---and for all I know, he used them. But this is just plain stupid:

In this case, officials had searched the girl's backpack and found nothing, Thomas said. "It was eminently reasonable to conclude the backpack was empty because Redding was secreting the pills in a place she thought no one would look," he said.

I think that's what mathematicians derisively call proof by ignorance: It must be true because I can't think of any other possiblies.

In the unlikely even I ever meet Justice Thomas, I'm going to accuse him of smuggling crystal meth in his rectum. By his own logic, he ought to let me check, right?

(I know there's more to it than that, but the stupidity here just pisses me off.)

Thomas adds this:

Thomas warned that the majority's decision could backfire. "Redding would not have been the first person to conceal pills in her undergarments," he said. "Nor will she be the last after today's decision, which announces the safest place to secrete contraband in school."

"Nor will she be the last"? What the fuck? They did search her underwear, and she didn't have any drugs. I always assumed Thomas just looked like he was sleeping during oral arguments, or that he was bored because he'd already read it all in the briefs, but maybe he's really just not paying attention.

It's also a question of values. If the cost of keeping dickheaded school administrators from looking in little girls' underwear is that a little more contraband gets into our schools, I, for one, am okay with that.

Now that Michael Jackson is dead, I'm not going to miss him. I didn't know him. I don't think many people did. I do, however, miss the Michael Jackson I once thought I knew, back before it all got so weird. You see, there was a time...

I never really loved Michael Jackson's music, but I loved his music videos. Back in the early 1980s, creating videos for songs was still a new and controversial idea. I liked the videos, but a lot of people, including a lot of artists, thought they were a distraction from the music. Record companies made videos, but they didn't take them seriously.

Michael Jackson helped change all that. At a time when a music video might have a budget of $40,000, he spent about a half-million dollars on the Thriller video and got a major motion picture director to film it. Nowadays, many motion picture directors get started with music videos and think nothing of producing one for musicians they like, but back then nobody had heard of such a thing.

I admired Michael for taking this fledgling artform to heart and treating its fans with respect.

It may sound odd, but I also admired Michael Jackson for his willingness to let Weird Al Yankovic parody his songs. Musicians with considerably less fame and talent took themselves too seriously to let Al do his thing (I'm looking at you, Coolio!) but Michael Jackson was always willing.

That's the Michael Jackson I miss. Something bad happened to him a long time ago.

A few random shots around the web:

• When I heard that bartender-beating Chicago cop Anthony Abbate got a light sentence, I wondered if someone who wasn't a cop did the same thing, would he get off as easy? When Moser did some research, and the answers is probably yes. It was, after all, just a barfight.


• Savana Redding wins her case against ibuprofen-seeking perverts.


• I didn't love the new Transformers movie, but I liked it more than Roger Ebert did.


• Why? WHY? Why do they keep letting M. Night Shyamalan make movies! At least it's an adaptation, so maybe it will have a point.

Chicago police officer Anthony Abbate---caught on video beating up a young woman bartender---has been sentenced. He got probation.

Note that Abbate is still a police officer. The Independent Police Review Authority has recommended he be fired, and it sounds like he was convicted of a felony, which should disqualify him for the police force, but God only knows what the Police Board will do.

Chicago's Police Board is often described as the "civilian review" component of the disciplinary system, which sounds good, but as I understand it, the only thing they can do in police disciplinary actions is to either approve, reduce, or eliminate the recommended punishment. In other words, it's a way for the city political structure to protect officers who have connections.

My guess is that Abbate doesn't have any connections good enough to survive so publicly disgracing the department, but...this is Chicago.

The thing is, Abbate's not the real problem. He's just a drunken fool. Notice, however, that there's been no word in months about the allegations that other officers tried to cover this up and intimidate witnesses with threats of arrest. That would be a criminal conspiracy within the police department.

Nothing to see here. Move along.

Illinois's own Jeremy Richey does some actual journalism and interviews California civil attorney Brian Pedigo about his experience as a juror for a murder trial. He talks about deliberations, and what he thinks each side did wrong or right.

By the way, he has one piece of advice for the prosecutor that I'd like to second if I'm ever on a jury again:

When handling a firearm, do not point it at the jury -- have gun manners.  Point it always at the ground, even though it's unloaded. 

Yeah. It may give us jurors a sense of what it was like to be the victim, but it's also going to give me a sense that you're an irresponsible jackass.

Scott Greenfield, font of so much that I can riff off of, has a complaint about gang experts who try to paint every action by the defendant as related to his membership in a gang:

If a defendant has a tattoo, the expert will testify that tattoos are "brands" typically worn by gang members.  If the tattoo happens to say "Tiffany", then the testimony is changed ever so slightly to accommodate, by the expert then saying that gang members typically brand themselves with the names of their girlfriends.  You get the message.  No matter what the evidence, the defendant can't win.  It's always connectible to being a gang member, according to the expert.

Aside from the implication by Scott that police gang experts are pulling answers out of their ass don't really know much about gangs, I can also see something of a logical problem with the so-called expert's theory. The cop's statement that gang members have specific types of tattoos is a logical statement: If he's a gang member, then he'll have a specific tattoo, say of a snarling dog. If we try to get all mathematical, the statement it would look like this:

gang member ==> dog tattoo

But that's not what the prosecutor wants the jury to believe. The prosecutor doesn't care about the tattoo. He's trying to prove that the defendant is a gang member. He's trying to prove the converse:

dog tattoo ==> gang member

The problem is, as a matter of math, the truth of a statement does not imply the truth of its converse. Even if it's true that all gang members have dog tattoos, it doesn't mean all people with dog tattoos are gang members. It's easier to see with a more obvious example: All gang members have noses:

gang member ==> nose

but that doesn't in any way prove

nose ==> gang member

That is, not all people with noses are gang members.

So why is it that "all people with noses are gang members" is obviously wrong, but "all people with dog tattoos are gang members" seems plausible? The answer is a little more complicated because it involves the real world, the statistics of experimental design for testing hypotheses, and the availability heuristic.

Suppose you wanted to test the hypothesis "all people with X are gang members," where X is either "noses" or "dog tattoos." You'd do it by setting up an experiment---in this case a survey of the population---to look for counterexamples to the hypothesis. That is, you'd try to find people who have X but are not gang members. Finding even one proves it's not absolute truth.

The real world is a little fuzzy---especially in the social sciences---and our methods of testing are less than perfect, so real-world hypothesis testing usually involves testing a statistical relationship. In this case, we'd be testing "people with X have a high probability of being gang members" and we'd still be looking for people who have X but are not gang members. The more such counterexamples we find, the lower the probability of a relationship.

A scientific test of this kind of hypothesis would involve conducting random surveys and gathering enough data to reach statistically reliable conclusions. But when it's not a scientific investigation, when it's just us trying to figure something out, we don't do a scientific study. We just try to think of counterexamples.

When X is "noses" it's easy. We all know lots of people with noses, and nearly all of them are not gang members. Such a large number of counterexamples makes it easy to destroy the hypothesis that all people with noses are gang members.

When the hypothesis is "all people with dog tattoos are gang members," it's a little harder to think of counterexamples, simply because dog tattoos are so rare that we may not know of anybody who has one. Our inability to find counterexamples makes the hypothesis seem plausible.

This way of thinking is called the availability heuristic. We assume something is likely because we can easily bring to mind examples. The more examples we can think of, the more likely we believe it to be.

Although the availability heuristic is not as rigorous and generalized as conducting a scientific investigation, in essence it's a similar process. A scientific investigation gathers data using randomized trials, controlled studies, and careful surveys and then analyzes the data to arrive at results. The availability heuristic does the same kind of analysis, but it works only on the data we have in our heads at that moment. There is no data gathering process.

The availability heuristic is a perfectly valid way of thinking about our day-to-day world, about which we have lots of data but don't have time to gather more. It tends to fail us, however, when thinking about parts of the world with which we are unfamiliar. That's why we have science.

What are the practical implications of all this philosophy when it comes to thinking about gang experts? Probably not much. But if I ever find myself on a jury listening to this kind of testimony, I hope I'll keep a few points in mind.

Basically, any assertion of a general rule---all fish have fins, all cats have fur, all people with dog tattoos are gang members---is equivalent to an assertion that counterexamples do not exist: There are no fish that don't have fins, there are no cats that don't have fur, there are no people who have dog tattoos who are not in gangs.

(Actually, the gang expert will likely invoke several indicators of gang membership in combination---gang tattoos, gang hats, gang shoe laces, gang jewelry---and the standard in the courtroom is not that there are absolutely no counterexamples, but rather that counterexamples are rare enough that they do not constitute a cause for reasonable doubt. Nevertheless, an assertion of a general rule is still an assertion about the rarity of counterexamples.)

So if you hear someone say that dog tattoos are sign of gang membership, you should be wondering why that person believes there are no (or few) counterexamples. Remember, it's not just about gangs. It's also about tattoos. If he's really an expert on gangs, he may very well have observed that gang members have dog tattoos, but how does he know that non-gang-members don't have dog tattoos as well? He'd have to know a lot about tattoo prevalence in society at large. In addition to being a gang expert, he'd also have to be a tattoo expert.

Or at least he'd have to have received reliable information from a tattoo expert or be aware of a scientific study of some kind that addressed the issue. If I were on the jury, I'd want to hear about that.

Back on my latest I'm-going-to-be-blogging-about-healthcare post, reader Seth makes a few points in the comments. Here's the first one:

There's actually some lessons to be learned from this; I'm figuring that Kevin Ecker will be first to point them out . . .

after all, he's got a head start.  He's heard the story.

Maybe you can, too, but I gotta tell you the story, first.

I was running over to meet a guy to buy a gun. Private sale. Since he's not an idiot, he wanted a copy of my DL and permit, just to adhere to the forms.

Perfectly reasonable.



So I had a xerox of both in my front shirt pocket, wrapped around $400 in cash.

I got a call from my younger daughter's school about some... issues that are going on.  Some other time.

I was so distracted by that phone call that I didn't notice that I'd let my speed creep up to a tad over the legal limit, until I noticed the flashing lights.



Shit.



So I promptly found a safe place to pull over, and did just that. T

he cop -- never mind quite which agency; I've got my reasons -- comes up to the window, and asks for my D/L, proof of insurance and...

"...do you have any firearms on you?"



I answered, as I read somewhere that a guy should, "My carry permit and drivers license are in my left hip pocket, Officer; and, yes, I'm carrying today."

Oh.

"And where is the firearm?"

This is embarrassing, but I do have an excuse. Some other time. "Shoulder holster."



"Do me a favor, sir, and step out of the car." He didn't sound like it was really a favor, so I did, and pocketed the keys, closing and locking the door behind me quite appropriately.



He didn't ask about that.

Instead. "I need to see your license and carry permit." Which was just as well, for reasons I'm not going to go into, about where some people put their insurance cards. 

What I should have said: "Sure. It's in my left hip pocket. Would you like me to take it out?"

What I said. "Sure. I've got a copy of both in my shirt pocket. Would you like to see that?"



I think he liked the idea that I wasn't going to be reaching anywhere, so he said that that would do, and I took out the piece of paper, and started to hand to him.

You see where this is going?

Well, so did I.

I was just about to hand a cop a piece of paper wrapped around twenty twenty-dollar bills, and it was a bit too late to withdraw the offer.

So I explained, with a fair amount of stuttering, I think, that, yes, there was some money in there, but I wasn't offering him either a bribe or a tip, just so there wasn't going to be any misunderstanding.



"And where were you going with a copy of your permit wrapped around $400?"



The gun store, I said, more or less accurately.



Well, when he took the piece of paper either I let go too soon or he grabbed at it too late, and the money started flying all over the place . . .

So, with the money flying all around, he dashes for it, and after a couple of seconds, I figure that it's okay if I help -- if he was worried I was going to, like shoot him in the back or go all stabbity, he probably wouldn't have turned his back to me -- and since it's not all that windy, he and I (mainly him; he's younger and moves faster) quickly gather it up and hands what he's got to me, and no guns, knives, tasers, nor clubs come out.



"Better count it, and make sure we didn't miss any." He glances down at the piece of paper, and frowns. "...Mr. Rosenberg. I wouldn't want you, of all people, to think that some money's missing."

Just as I'm thinking this is about to get bad, he smiles, and it's a friendly smile.

So we both count out the money -- and it's all there, and we're in front of his cruiser, so if there's a camera running, it's all on the record, and we both announce the amount, and it's the same $400 that it should be-- and he hands it back to me and suggests that I tuck it away, which I do.



"Just wait here a minute, while I run this," he says, waving the paper. He sort of glances at me, as though he was going to ask me to produce the DL --  they can swipe them, rather than type stuff in -- but then he goes back to his car, and I just wait over to the side of the road, smoking a cigarette.

Very intently.



A couple of minutes (which didn't feel like minutes, but the cigarette timed them), he comes back, and we move around to the side of the car.

"You're fine, Mr. Rosenberg," he says, and then smiles. "Guess if you had any warrants on you, the Gang Strike Force would have kicked in your door yesterday, after all."



Oh, goodie.  I think that was a figure of speech.  Really.

"I'm just going to give you an 'advisory', Mr. Rosenberg. Watch the phone stuff when you're speeding."

Yes, he said, watch the phone stuff when you're speeding.

And he sort of cocked his head to one side, and was clearly making a decision, and then he made it, and he said, "you know, there's some of us jackbooted thugs," this is a phrase I use, but to describe a certain kind of bad cop, not as a generic, "who believe in all ten of the Amendments -- "

I did not correct him and point out that there's more; that's just the Bill of Rights. Didn't even think of it until later, and I'm not always a stickler for details.

" -- to the US Constitution. You seem to," he said, handing the paper back to me, "work the First and Second pretty hard, and that's just fine."  There are ways to say it that mean and there's nothing I can do about it, but I'd like to. 

He said it the other way.



I didn't quite know what to say, but I think something like thank you came out of my mouth.

"You drive safe, Joel," he said. 

And he stuck out a hand, and I shook it, and he went his way, and I went mine.

#

Afterthought:  I guess it's possible that he knew who I was when he pulled me over, but I was driving SWMBO's car; the War Wagon was getting its a/c worked on that day.



As a friend pointed out to me, a bit later, when we were discussing this, the reason that I didn't find it offensive for him to first-name me is that he was doing it as a human sort of thing -- he'd already been formal, and was saying that as one guy to another, not a cop talking down to a "civilian," as he wasn't.



Yeah, I like cops. Some cops. I like this guy.

Not vouching for him on other stuff, but, hey, yeah, I've got a soft spot in my heart and head for cops who cut a guy a break when they don't have to. 

He could have written me, and he didn't, and I'm not about to don tactical kneepads, and all, but, hey, I like the guy. 

And if the story ends a bit anticlimactically, hey, I didn't write the script, and don't mind that at all.



What can we learn from this? 

A lot, I think.  Over to you.]]>

Yes, You Do Have Staff, But You've Got to Be Staff, First Too Both First and Too

Twitter, the Favor Economy, and the Power of Crowds

Well, a checkbook. Credit card, maybe.

You can do better.  Hell, I do better, and I'm, well, just a guy.  Look it up.

Before I get to twitter, let me tell you about a friend of mine, who I'll call Bob.  (That's not his name; that is his face.) We met something like fifteen years ago, when he was dating another friend of mine, and we've hung out a fair amount, since. 

There are folks who call me a Renaissance Man, but well, Bob's downright Heinleinian:  he can (and does) pilot airplanes, maintain cars, fix stuff, build houses from the foundation up (he's done that, and can do any of the tasks required in all of that), sail a small boat (although it did tip over, that time I went with him, throwing us into the icy cold waters of Lake Minnetonka; then again, I was at the helm), load his own ammunition, and Ghu knows what else.

Some years ago (long past the statute of limitations; chill), he decided that the house he owned then was eighteen and a half inches too short -- he had a cool stove that wouldn't quite fit -- so late on a Friday evening, he and his brother, Al (also not his name) tore off one side of it, put in all the framing and other stuff, including the additional flooring, and put the side back up and had it all painted and sealed up, better than what code requires, by Monday morning.

I could tell you a lot of Bob stories, but let's leave it that he can do damn near anything that can be done with one's hands, and that, from time to time, I've asked a favor or two of him.  The one thing that he can't do is maintain his own computers, and -- very rarely -- I get a call asking just how one farbles a glimrod under Vista, or whatever, and for two reasons, I get to farbling his computer's glimrod.

Yes:  I'm making out a like a bandit, and if I told you more of the stories --

"Yes?"

"Hey, Bob?  It's Joel.  I know it's 2:30 in the morning, but there's water pouring out of the ceiling in my kitchen, and -- "

"I got it. Put on a pot of coffee."

"That'll stop it?"

"Nah.  But I'm on my way, and a cup of coffee would be nice.  Don't worry.  We'll get it done."

Request: anybody got a link to a good javabuttons generator? I'm thinking something like http://twurl.nl/vcpzki , but Open Source.

Check this site out. Tons of great java ideas if you have never been here: http://www.dynamicdrive.com/

Anybody got a
shortcut to information about case C 05-04532 JW in US District Court
Northern District of California, San Jose Division?

Ask, and ye shall receive. http://is.gd/B7NB

[I started to comment on this over at Simple Justice, but there's so much going on here that I decided to do my own post. As usual these days, it's a bit late.]

I may be a libertarian, but I'm not a cop hater. Sometimes, however, cops make it very hard not to hate them. Go read Scott Greenfield's story about a cop who hit a surrendering suspect and put him in a coma. Here's a bit of a description from the source article at the Seattle Times:

Seattle lawyer Sim Osborn, who has been retained by Christopher Harris' family, said both deputies wore black uniforms and yelled to Harris from a half-block away in a darkened alley. He said one witness reported the two deputies didn't identify themselves as law-enforcement officers until after Harris began running down the alley sometime after 1 a.m. Sunday. Osborn said Harris stopped running a few blocks away, apparently after realizing the two men chasing him were deputies.

"He was blindsided," Osborn said of Harris. "It was not a tackle but an absolute, bone-crushing hit." Harris' head struck a concrete wall. Since then, he's been in a coma and on life support at Harborview Medical Center.

There's video of the hit too, but what apparaently sets Scott off is the comments over at OfficerOne.com. Here's an example he quotes:

Great job Deputy! That suspect FLED on foot and turned toward you. What were his intentions when he turned, fight, weapon, surrender? We may never know but you did right and will be vindicated!

Yes, exactly, what were his intentions? I can just imagine the officer's debriefing:

I was chasing after him, yelling "Stop! Police!" And then the crazy bastard stopped! Who knows why he did that? Naturally, I had to take him out!

That reminds me of a case a few years ago where a police officer pulled a car over, walked up to the driver's window and asked him for his license. Then the cop shot the driver. His reason? The driver suddenly reached for something.

I'm no expert, but this seems to be a common pattern with police violence against innocent people: The cops form the incorrect opinion that someone is a bad guy---either through mistaken identity or misfiring intuition---and then fit all subsequent behavior into that pattern. Even when the suspect does something innocent and cooperative, the cops fit it into their bad-guy model of the situation and interpret it as strange and alarming behavior.

(The Amadou Diallo incident developed in this manner. Diallo was just standing on his own front stoop, but police thought he was a bad guy who was up to something. When they eased their car closer, he didn't slip away like most street people would, which really freaked them out. Then, when they got out of their cars, he tried to re-enter his building, which freaked out the cops even more, until one of them opened fire.)

There are other observations we can make from this incident. For one thing, the whole account starts with a lie. It's a lie that's enshrined in the law. It's a lie so common that nobody even realizes it's a lie anymore, not even the lawyer for the victim's family:

Seattle lawyer Sim Osborn, who has been retained by Christopher Harris' family, said...one witness reported the two deputies didn't identify themselves as law-enforcement officers until after Harris began running down the alley sometime after 1 a.m. Sunday...

Other witnesses thought the deputies yelled "police" immediately.

Here's the lie: Yelling "Police!" is not identifying yourself as a police officer. Yelling "Police!" is claiming to be a police officer. It's something anyone can do, including strangers who want to stop you from running so they can rob you.

Pretending that only real cops are capable of yelling "Police!" is some kind of shared delusion. When a drug raid goes bad, one of the key questions is always whether or not the cops announced before entering, as if---just before the shattering windows and splintering doors---hearing someone yell "Police!" is all it takes to make the occupants feel calm and reassured that all is well.

This incident took place in the street, but I think the same principle applies: When strangers make threatening moves toward you, it's kind of hard to be reassured by what they're saying at the time. Cops know this, because this is exactly how plainclothes and off-duty cops get shot by other cops.

A few other notes:

• 
  
  The method the cop used to subdue this guy---running straight into him with arms extended---is that a technique he learned at the academy? Does it have a name? Does it appear in any of the training manuals?


• 
  
  When asked to justify a decision, cops often say it was based on their experience and training. This cop chased and jumped the wrong guy, and the takedown was totally unnecessary. Does that mean that the next time this officer is on the witness stand testifying that he knew something based on his "experience and training," the defense lawyer can bring up this incident as an example of how his experience and training have steered him wrong before?


• 
  
  The calousness of some of the commenters is disturbing. There is nothing in the video or the news story indicating that the victim had it coming.


• 
  
  Was this another case of the old police street-justice rule that if they have to chase you, they'll beat you?

The short-term thinking by some of the commenters is depressing. To me, it looks like the officer committed a violent crime against the guy he hit. But maybe there's some excuse for what he did. Maybe, given what he knew at the time, this seemed like the right thing to do. A lot of commenters focus on that.

But just because the officer survived the encounter and won't be convicted of a felony doesn't mean it was good policework. That would be setting the bar far too low. An innocent person was gravely injured. The actual offender probably got away. The lawsuit will cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. The Seattle police look like a bunch of thugs.

And for what it's worth, I still think the cop was trying to deliver some street justice...just maybe not that much.

While honoring our nation's fallen soldiers, I'm also going to take a moment to remember those who died in our longest and most senseless war.

[No, this isn't a repeat of this episode of "Mike and Me," from a couple of years ago. More on that at the end. This article, slightly tweaked, is crossposted on TrueNorth, my LiveJournal and on the Forum, as well as here, where comments are welcome.]

*ring*
*ring*
*ring*

"Joel Rosenberg."

"Will you hold for Commissioner Campion?"

"No." *click*

*ring*
*ring*
*ring*

"Joel Rosenberg."

"Will you hold for Commissioner Campion?"

"No.* *click*

*ring*
*ring*
*ring*

"Joel Rosenberg."

"Mike Campion here. Got a minute for me?"

"Sure, Mike. Happy to talk to you. Not happy to get a call to be put on hold by His Most Puissant Excellency Herr Commissioner Campion's secretary."

[long pause; deep breath]

"Fair enough. I see you've been having a bit of fun with that Metro Gang Strike Force story."

"Yup. I laugh so that I will not cry. Been following the popup cartoon stuff?"

"Constantly."

"I haven't had so much fun since I walked out of your office that time you summoned John, Professor Olson and me to hear your sermon. It's dreadful, and I guess it's better to laugh than to -- "

"You walked out a scant fifty-eight minutes into a one-hour meeting, Joel."

"True. Wish I'd had a camera. Loved your expression. I did thank you for the coffee, though."

"Yeah."

"So, what can I do for you, Mike?"

"I take it you think I really stepped in it."

"Well, yeah. Piles of cash and thirteen cars disappear -- on your watch -- and first thing you do is carefully not order the perps' offices sealed?"

"I didn't think -- "

"Correct. You didn't think that, after the announcement that there was going to be an investigation, things might disappear there. When you're going to raid the Rolling 60's Crips, you usually hold a press conference in advance? Not exactly sure I agree with your police work, there, Commissioner."

"I guess that looks bad."

"Yeah.  Mike, didn't I read somewhere about people going to prison for tipping off the target of a raid?"

"Well, I --

"Looks like you announced that there was going to be an opportunity to steal the horses before the barn got locked."

"I know. I didn't mean to, but -- "

"Whatever."

"So what do I do now? I mean, these guys do a lot of good work, and -- "

"I guess you could issue another statement assuring the public that you don't think any evidence of criminality will now be found, what with that head start you gave the perps, and all. Wonder where all that cash and those cars got to."

"It's probably just bookkeeping errors."

"Sure. Cars often disappear in bookkeeping errors. Happens all the time. In Narnia."

"Do you have any constructive suggestions? I mean, we gotta do something to win back the public trust, and -- "

"Nah. You're not going to do the obvious, so -- "

"I don't see what's so obvious."

"Yeah. At least thousands of dollars and more than a dozen cars disappear while in the possession of the Gang Strike Force, and you don't see what's so obvious. But you've got a nice little, slow investigation that won't show anything as long as it doesn't go deep, and the perps had time not only to lawyer up, but to flush the evidence, unless you -- "

"I'm going to hang up if you don't give me one constructive suggestion."

"Hang up if you want, but I'll give you one way anyway. Not the only possibility, but I'll make it easy for you: Get on the horn to Susan Gartner. County Attorney, Ramsey, where some of this money appears to have disa -- "

"I know who she is."

"Good. Tell her you think it's in her interest to bring on a special prosecutor, give him a staff, and convene a grand jury. And tell your you've already talked to a few people, and you've got some suggest -- "

"Special prosecutor?"

"Yeah. You don't want somebody who needs these cops to make cases to be the one investigating -- and maybe prosecuting -- them. Even if he looks real, real hard, and doesn't find anything -- and, shit, there's got to be some clean cops on the Gang Strike Force, after all, no? -- it won't clear their names, and it won't nail the crooks who 'lost' all that money and all those cars. And let's not get to their splendid Hawaiian vacation.

"So instead of getting up in front of the press and announcing that you're maybe going to eventually hire some unnamed guy who has scored a lot of points in slam-dunk Federal prosecutions and some ex-FBI guy who may or may not be able to find his ass with both hands, and do that before the evidence has been secured, now that you've screwed up --

"And screwing up by saying in advance that they probably wouldn't find any evidence of criminal wrongdoing, like I did -- "

"Stop interrupting. Just get somebody with real prosecuting experience in Minnesota, who isn't in the game anymore, and let him hire on some staff who know how to look. I know one guy; you know more, and Gartner knows more than you do. Tell him to hire some clean, retired cops, who still have their current POST licenses, and swear 'em in. Kaplan* is about to retire out of EPD, and, hell, Lex Kent* used to work for you, even though he's got that new gig. I know some; you know more. A forensic accountant or two -- have him follow the money. See where it leads.

"And I'm sure you know who should be leading this, or on the task force, right?"

"Hell, no. I mean, were it me, I'd pick up the phone to Ya'acov Smalls* and see if he'd do the the lawyer part. Smalls is tough and honest, and he's prosecuted enough guys, after all. Both of the Turk* brothers are retired, but they've still got their licenses, and you know they're straight arrows. Don't know what they'd say if you asked them, but how much stink do you think they like on the badge? Billy Mitchell* would probably love to run the financial and bookeeping side of it -- he likes to keep his hand in -- and, hell, you've already got Wong* at the BCA to run the computer forensics side of it.

"But what do I know? I don't have the connections you do; you're the state's top cop, and I'm just a balding, middle-aged Jew writer who knows a few people. Finding one honest former prosecutor and six honest guys who used to carry badges and do keep their word and would say yes to this should take you about ten phone calls. If I have to guess -- "

"You don't."

"You called me, Mike. Don't interrupt so. As I was saying . . . if I had to guess, a real thorough investigation would exonerate a bunch of guys, and might just convict a few. I dunno. But, either way, it would do something to persuade people that you really want to get to the bottom of this, and not apply a slow-rolled coat of youknowwhat."

"Yeah. I see your point. Get to the bottom of it, even though we screwed up by announcing the investigation before we preserved the evidence."

"Yup. Admit the screwup, do your best, clear the innocent and arrest the folks you've got reason to think are guilty . . . and let the system handle it while you move on. Glad you called?"

"Not really."

"Didn't think so."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help, Mike. Really."

*click*

[Author's note: the previous episode of "Mike and Me" wasn't fictional. This one is fictional. Yes, published reports indicate that the real Campion did everything that the fictional Campion admits to in this fictional dialog -- he says he's appointing some former Fed prosecutor and some former FBI guy to look into things; he didn't arrange to have the Gang Strike Force HQ sealed and guarded -- that only happened after Chris Omodt was informed, according to the Star Tribune's Randy Furst, that "some Strike Force investigators turned up at the agency's New Brighton headquarters after hours on Wednesday to remove items from the offices." Maybe those items were just keepsakes of the leis that they'd gotten on their Most Excellent Taxpayer-Funded Hawaiian Vacation. Yes, there really are real people behind those names I gave the fictional Campion; I know them all, and have talked to none about whether or not they'd be willing to look into this, but they're all honest guys -- they'd either pass, or they'd do it.

[And, no, Campion didn't call me. I told you this was a story, didn't I?]

________________________
* Not the real name.