A series of case studies by a civil liberties lawyer on the myriad ways federal prosecutors can indict and sometimes convict people based on seemingly normal conduct.
Silvergate highlights some important reasons why federal law is so elastic. One is that it lacks many of the "common law" protections of state law, and federal lawmakers and judges have taken this absence to construe laws as broadly as possible. Importantly, many among the now over 4,500 federal criminal statutes have given up any sense of the "mens rea," or guilty mind, assumptions that were once considered essential for making an action a criminal offense. Also, federal prosecutors have used strong sentencing guidelines and the ubiquity of plea bargains to coerce supposed defendants into testifying against the real targets of investigations, often more prominent individuals, who are often identified by officials as targets long before they are charged or even before evidence is compiled. Those under a corporate umberella are especially suspect. Since the 1999 Eric Holder memorandum and the 2003 Larry Thompson memorandum, the Department of Justice has threatened corporations with criminal charges unless they withdrew legal counsel, opened up papers supposedly held under "attorney-client privilege" and assisted the DOJ against its most important employees. After the Arthur Anderson debacle, corporations knew how deadly such a criminal charge could be, so they always agree to admit "guilt," and those mea culpas are then used against employees who otherwise might have had a fighting chance of staying out of prison.
Most of the prosecutions Silvergate discusses are based on broad "obstruction of justice" or "conspiracy" charges, which both can encompass almost any activity. As he points out, one odd aspect of federal law is that while lying under oath is a felony, perjury, lying to almost any federal official is also a felony, and thus many people get entrapped in long conferences with some federal lawyer into making some erroneous statement that end with them in prison. Think Martha Stewart went to jail for insider trading? Wrong, she went to jail for "obstruction of justice." The feds used ambiguous insider trading laws to trap her into saying things they believed contradicted her earlier statements. Think Arthur Anderson's charges were about accounting fraud? Actually they too were for "obstruction of justice," for telling employees to continue following their document retention and destruction policy BEFORE an indictment was issued. The documents destroyed COULD have been used in a prosecution after all. Almost as broad and useful to the feds are "fraud" charges, especially wire and mail fraud. Kenneth Lay of Enron was convicted not because of any specific statement he made that was proved false, but because general optimistic sentiments he conveyed to the press contradicted some internal concerns he had about the company. It looked then like any earnings ballyhoo by any executives might be a crime. More common than the Ken Lay or Martha Stewart types, though, are the prosecutions aimed at small-town politicians, doctors, or lawyers whose ethics may be questionable enough to anger some other officials even when they are not illegal. Generally the press, always eager for a new face for the outrage of the week, celebrates even the most "creative" of federal prosecutions.
So the author does a good job of showing how the feds target the innocent, but he also shows that in the end most prosecutions he mentions get reversed by appeals courts or struck down by juries, and one of the most troubling tactics he discusses, "honest services fraud," was struck down entirely by the Supreme Court in the 2010 Skilling v. US case. Of course, all this is cold comfort for those who spend years or even decades under indictment and have their lives ruined, but it does show that the system usually works, eventually. The problem is that indictment alone now provides such strong penalties that something beyond the mere sentiments of federal prosecutors should govern it, and grand juries aren't doing that. Thanks to Silvergate, we can at least begin the discussion about how to control now uncontrollable federal prosecutions.