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Charged: The New Movement to Transform American Prosecution and End Mass Incarceration
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • A renowned journalist and legal commentator exposes the unchecked power of the prosecutor as a driving force in America’s mass incarceration crisis—and charts a way out.
“An important, thoughtful, and thorough examination of criminal justice in America that speaks directly to how we reduce mass incarceration.”—Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy
“This harrowing, often enraging book is a hopeful one, as well, profiling innovative new approaches and the frontline advocates who champion them.”—Matthew Desmond, author of Evicted
FINALIST FOR THE LOS ANGELES TIMES BOOK PRIZE • SHORTLISTED FOR THE J. ANTHONY LUKAS BOOK PRIZE • NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY NPR • The New York Public Library • Library Journal • Publishers Weekly • Kirkus Reviews
The American criminal justice system is supposed to be a contest between two equal adversaries, the prosecution and the defense, with judges ensuring a fair fight. That image of the law does not match the reality in the courtroom, however. Much of the time, it is prosecutors more than judges who control the outcome of a case, from choosing the charge to setting bail to determining the plea bargain. They often decide who goes free and who goes to prison, even who lives and who dies. In Charged, Emily Bazelon reveals how this kind of unchecked power is the underreported cause of enormous injustice—and the missing piece in the mass incarceration puzzle.
Charged follows the story of two young people caught up in the criminal justice Kevin, a twenty-year-old in Brooklyn who picked up his friend’s gun as the cops burst in and was charged with a serious violent felony, and Noura, a teenage girl in Memphis indicted for the murder of her mother. Bazelon tracks both cases—from arrest and charging to trial and sentencing—and, with her trademark blend of deeply reported narrative, legal analysis, and investigative journalism, illustrates just how criminal prosecutions can go wrong and, more important, why they don’t have to.
Bazelon also details the second chances they prosecutors can extend, if they choose, to Kevin and Noura and so many others. She follows a wave of reform-minded D.A.s who have been elected in some of our biggest cities, as well as in rural areas in every region of the country, put in office to do nothing less than reinvent how their job is done. If they succeed, they can point the country toward a different and profoundly better future.
“An important, thoughtful, and thorough examination of criminal justice in America that speaks directly to how we reduce mass incarceration.”—Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy
“This harrowing, often enraging book is a hopeful one, as well, profiling innovative new approaches and the frontline advocates who champion them.”—Matthew Desmond, author of Evicted
FINALIST FOR THE LOS ANGELES TIMES BOOK PRIZE • SHORTLISTED FOR THE J. ANTHONY LUKAS BOOK PRIZE • NAMED ONE OF THE BEST BOOKS OF THE YEAR BY NPR • The New York Public Library • Library Journal • Publishers Weekly • Kirkus Reviews
The American criminal justice system is supposed to be a contest between two equal adversaries, the prosecution and the defense, with judges ensuring a fair fight. That image of the law does not match the reality in the courtroom, however. Much of the time, it is prosecutors more than judges who control the outcome of a case, from choosing the charge to setting bail to determining the plea bargain. They often decide who goes free and who goes to prison, even who lives and who dies. In Charged, Emily Bazelon reveals how this kind of unchecked power is the underreported cause of enormous injustice—and the missing piece in the mass incarceration puzzle.
Charged follows the story of two young people caught up in the criminal justice Kevin, a twenty-year-old in Brooklyn who picked up his friend’s gun as the cops burst in and was charged with a serious violent felony, and Noura, a teenage girl in Memphis indicted for the murder of her mother. Bazelon tracks both cases—from arrest and charging to trial and sentencing—and, with her trademark blend of deeply reported narrative, legal analysis, and investigative journalism, illustrates just how criminal prosecutions can go wrong and, more important, why they don’t have to.
Bazelon also details the second chances they prosecutors can extend, if they choose, to Kevin and Noura and so many others. She follows a wave of reform-minded D.A.s who have been elected in some of our biggest cities, as well as in rural areas in every region of the country, put in office to do nothing less than reinvent how their job is done. If they succeed, they can point the country toward a different and profoundly better future.
448 pages, Hardcover
First published April 9, 2019
292 people are currently reading
6997 people want to read
About the author
Emily Bazelon
5 books334 followersEmily Bazelon is a senior editor at Slate, a contributing writer at the New York Times Magazine, and the Truman Capote Fellow for Creative Writing and Law at Yale Law School
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April 5, 2019Add CHARGED to your criminal justice reform reading list, along with The New Jim Crow and Just Mercy (... and what else? Comment with suggestions for me).
There's a lot to unpack here, but Bazelon takes a look at a particular piece of a justice system that is leading to mass incarceration in unsustainable numbers: the role of prosecutors. Using two very different cases as a narrative thread, Bazelon exposes the reader to a system where winning (not compromise, not restitution, and not justice) is rewarded through promotion and re-election. There's some damning evidence that mandatory minimum sentences for non-violent crimes do little more than create future criminals, and also a hopeful look at prison alternatives currently being piloted.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for a review copy of this book.
There's a lot to unpack here, but Bazelon takes a look at a particular piece of a justice system that is leading to mass incarceration in unsustainable numbers: the role of prosecutors. Using two very different cases as a narrative thread, Bazelon exposes the reader to a system where winning (not compromise, not restitution, and not justice) is rewarded through promotion and re-election. There's some damning evidence that mandatory minimum sentences for non-violent crimes do little more than create future criminals, and also a hopeful look at prison alternatives currently being piloted.
Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for a review copy of this book.
January 4, 2019
Americans like to think their criminal justice system is the fairest in the world, that innocents can’t be proven guilty because of all the constitutional protections in the system. Nothing could be further from the truth, as Emily Bazelon found in Charged. Her latest book looks at the justice system at the prosecutor level. It is a family tree of branches, many of them diseased or rotten. Both prosecutors and defendants can find themselves on the wrong one at any time. It’s a fascinating tour, aided by Bazelon’s intimate knowledge, involvement and exhaustive contacts.
Bazelon details two tormented cases, of a gun possession in Brooklyn and a murder in Memphis, to help readers live the blind maze that might or might not lead to justice, years after the facts. In between, she describes the offices, officers and environment that the justice system operates in. She finds it not just faulty, but working against its own best interests, the interests of the accused, and the interests of the public. She quotes Erin Murphy, an NYU Law Professor: “We don’t have strong citizen oversight of police, it is highly politicized work, and civil remedies have been totally neutered.”
States have been abandoning diversions, education, retraining and supervision in favor of more and longer sentences. The United States now holds 2.2 million in jail, one quarter of those held in the whole world. In addition, there are nearly five million on parole or control of some sort. It is a nation of criminals, apparently.
That is not only costly, but hopelessly unworkable. In numerous field trials, those alternatives show themselves to be less expensive and lead to less recidivism than locking people up for the slightest infraction. A good half a million are in jail just because they couldn’t pay the fine or make bail. To Bazelon, this sort of debtors’ prison alone costs the country $25 million a day. It’s the system that needs reforming as much as the accused.
There is a special place hell for plea bargaining in Charged. It is a weapon wielded by prosecutors, who threaten sentences three times as long if the accused prefers to take a chance in court. As Judge Jed Rakoff wrote: “In 2012, the average sentence for federal narcotics defendants who entered any kind of plea bargain was five years and four months, while the average sentence for defendants who went to trial was sixteen years.” After months or years of waiting, most cave – 95% of criminal cases end in a plea-bargain. It wouldn’t be so bad if so many weren’t innocent, or if prosecutors didn’t withhold evidence, or if police didn’t lie (testilying ,they call it) or deny the accused their rights. “Once you get used to it, you don’t even notice the injustice,“ Albert Altschuler, University of Chicago law professor says of plea-bargaining.
Power has shifted to the prosecutors, as judges are now restricted to formularies. Prosecutors forced to go to trial go for crimes with the longest sentences. Judges are forced to go along. This adds greatly to the power of the plea-bargain. Asked in court if they chose the plea voluntarily, all defendants commit perjury by saying yes.
Charged ends powerfully with 21 reasonable, doable recommendations to fix the system. They are listed with clarifications and variations, and then with places where they have been successfully implemented. Because it’s not all bad news. There are innovative, reformers in many jurisdictions, notably Houston, Brooklyn and Philadelphia.
1. Make diversion the rule
2. Charge with restraint and plea-bargain fairly
3. Move toward ending cash bail
4. Encourage the treatment (not criminalization) of mental illness
5. Encourage the treatment (not criminalization) of drug addiction
6. Treat kids like kids
7. Minimize misdemeanors
8. Account for consequences to immigrants
9. Promote restorative justice
10. Shrink probation and parole
11. Change office culture and practice
12. Address racial disparity
13. Create effective conviction review
14. Broaden discovery
15. Hold police accountable
16. End the poverty trap of fines and fees
17. Expunge and seal criminal records
18. Play fair with forensic evidence
19. Work to end the death penalty
20. Calculate cost
21. Employ the language of respect
The problem that Bazelon does not venture into is the near anarchy of the entire system. Rights are spelled out at the federal level, but prosecutors work at the county level. Every county has its own policies and methods. There is no consistency or predictability for someone accused of anything. They never know what they’re up against, until they’re in the vortex. Americans don’t have the same rights from one county to the next.
Possibly worse is that in the USA, prosecutors and district attorneys tend to be elected, not appointed by a commission of judges, who might know their performance records and honesty. The result is the politicization of justice, as people vote along party lines, not fairness, justice or efficiency. Counties get omnipotent little potentates, who run their departments as they alone see fit, often for their own glory. Nothing says re-elected like a lot people behind bars.
Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor showed she understood in Utah v Strieff: “It says that your body is subject to invasion while the courts excuse the violation of your rights. It implies that you are not a citizen of a democracy, but the subject of a carcereal state, just waiting to be catalogued. We must not pretend that the countless people who are routinely targeted by the police are ‘isolated’. They are the canaries in the coal mine whose deaths, civil and literal, warn us that no one can breathe in this atmosphere.”
She said the criminal justice system “accomplishes nothing we think of as its purpose. We think we’re keeping people safe. We’re just making worse criminals.”
David Wineberg
Bazelon details two tormented cases, of a gun possession in Brooklyn and a murder in Memphis, to help readers live the blind maze that might or might not lead to justice, years after the facts. In between, she describes the offices, officers and environment that the justice system operates in. She finds it not just faulty, but working against its own best interests, the interests of the accused, and the interests of the public. She quotes Erin Murphy, an NYU Law Professor: “We don’t have strong citizen oversight of police, it is highly politicized work, and civil remedies have been totally neutered.”
States have been abandoning diversions, education, retraining and supervision in favor of more and longer sentences. The United States now holds 2.2 million in jail, one quarter of those held in the whole world. In addition, there are nearly five million on parole or control of some sort. It is a nation of criminals, apparently.
That is not only costly, but hopelessly unworkable. In numerous field trials, those alternatives show themselves to be less expensive and lead to less recidivism than locking people up for the slightest infraction. A good half a million are in jail just because they couldn’t pay the fine or make bail. To Bazelon, this sort of debtors’ prison alone costs the country $25 million a day. It’s the system that needs reforming as much as the accused.
There is a special place hell for plea bargaining in Charged. It is a weapon wielded by prosecutors, who threaten sentences three times as long if the accused prefers to take a chance in court. As Judge Jed Rakoff wrote: “In 2012, the average sentence for federal narcotics defendants who entered any kind of plea bargain was five years and four months, while the average sentence for defendants who went to trial was sixteen years.” After months or years of waiting, most cave – 95% of criminal cases end in a plea-bargain. It wouldn’t be so bad if so many weren’t innocent, or if prosecutors didn’t withhold evidence, or if police didn’t lie (testilying ,they call it) or deny the accused their rights. “Once you get used to it, you don’t even notice the injustice,“ Albert Altschuler, University of Chicago law professor says of plea-bargaining.
Power has shifted to the prosecutors, as judges are now restricted to formularies. Prosecutors forced to go to trial go for crimes with the longest sentences. Judges are forced to go along. This adds greatly to the power of the plea-bargain. Asked in court if they chose the plea voluntarily, all defendants commit perjury by saying yes.
Charged ends powerfully with 21 reasonable, doable recommendations to fix the system. They are listed with clarifications and variations, and then with places where they have been successfully implemented. Because it’s not all bad news. There are innovative, reformers in many jurisdictions, notably Houston, Brooklyn and Philadelphia.
1. Make diversion the rule
2. Charge with restraint and plea-bargain fairly
3. Move toward ending cash bail
4. Encourage the treatment (not criminalization) of mental illness
5. Encourage the treatment (not criminalization) of drug addiction
6. Treat kids like kids
7. Minimize misdemeanors
8. Account for consequences to immigrants
9. Promote restorative justice
10. Shrink probation and parole
11. Change office culture and practice
12. Address racial disparity
13. Create effective conviction review
14. Broaden discovery
15. Hold police accountable
16. End the poverty trap of fines and fees
17. Expunge and seal criminal records
18. Play fair with forensic evidence
19. Work to end the death penalty
20. Calculate cost
21. Employ the language of respect
The problem that Bazelon does not venture into is the near anarchy of the entire system. Rights are spelled out at the federal level, but prosecutors work at the county level. Every county has its own policies and methods. There is no consistency or predictability for someone accused of anything. They never know what they’re up against, until they’re in the vortex. Americans don’t have the same rights from one county to the next.
Possibly worse is that in the USA, prosecutors and district attorneys tend to be elected, not appointed by a commission of judges, who might know their performance records and honesty. The result is the politicization of justice, as people vote along party lines, not fairness, justice or efficiency. Counties get omnipotent little potentates, who run their departments as they alone see fit, often for their own glory. Nothing says re-elected like a lot people behind bars.
Supreme Court Justice Sonia Sotomayor showed she understood in Utah v Strieff: “It says that your body is subject to invasion while the courts excuse the violation of your rights. It implies that you are not a citizen of a democracy, but the subject of a carcereal state, just waiting to be catalogued. We must not pretend that the countless people who are routinely targeted by the police are ‘isolated’. They are the canaries in the coal mine whose deaths, civil and literal, warn us that no one can breathe in this atmosphere.”
She said the criminal justice system “accomplishes nothing we think of as its purpose. We think we’re keeping people safe. We’re just making worse criminals.”
David Wineberg
February 10, 2019
Disclaimer: ARC via the publisher and Netgalley.
The last time I did my civic duty of jury duty it was either the day after or day that Larry Krasner fired several lawyers for the DA’s office. It was an interesting day. I’m not sure why they didn’t just cancel us coming in.
I tell you this so you know that I live in one of the cities that Bazelon writes about in her new book.
According to the studies that Bazelon cites in her book, most Americans agree that the justice system needs to be reformed and that in many cases the penalties are too harsh. True, there are some people, like one of my co-workers, who believe people like Krasner haven’t been victims of crime so they don’t care about punishment. But as someone who has lived in a city with harsh penalties, they don’t seem to work that well.
Bazelon makes an excellent and good case as to why this is as well as detailing how the country got to this point. Her book follows two people who are caught in justice in different parts of the country. There is Noura who is accused of murdering her mother, and Keith who is charged with an illegally holding a gun. Noura is white, from Memphis, and her family, well not rich, is not poor. Keith is from NYC, black, and his family is struggling finically. Both are close in age – not having graduated high school when the book opens. Both are basically innocent.
In some ways, Keith is a little luckier because NYC has/had programs that could help him and the idea of punishment was changing. This is not to say that his race, economic background, and neighborhood did not play a role in his charge and his subsequent interaction with police and the system. It is though Keith that Bazelon illustrates the cost to the average person when it comes to the justice system. It isn’t just the charge, but the time that is put on hold, the missed wages, the struggle to move forward on a good path when everything seems to be or is out to get you. Chances are that if you live in a big urban area, you know someone like Keith.
Noura’s case is different and illustrates what happens when a prosecutor doesn’t play by the rules and abuses power. (Noura’s case was also first reported on Bazelon for the New York Times). She is charged and eventually found guilty of murdering her mother. She spends years in jail. You might not know someone like Noura, but Noura’s case also illustrates how power can be horribly abused, and her friendships in prison illustrate, as Noura herself points out, that she is hardly alone in suffering a miscarriage of justice; she just has the benefit of being white.
What is also important is that the long-lasting effects of being charged are shown. It isn’t just the time and money that is loss, but the emotional and mental damage as well. Bazelon does directly tackle how race plays into what happens. The stories of Keith and Noura also lead to discussions with DA’s, defense lawyers, judges, and activists, some good, some bad – some pushing for change, some frustrated because their hands are tied. The book isn’t anti cop or anti-justice – it is pro-humanity.
Reading this right after finishing The Cadaver King and the Country Dentist is enough to make you want to go around smacking people. Thankfully, Bazelon includes a step by step proposal for reforming the justice system, including what people who read her book can do. Not only is the planned sketched out but she also provides cited examples of each step working
Highly recommended.
The last time I did my civic duty of jury duty it was either the day after or day that Larry Krasner fired several lawyers for the DA’s office. It was an interesting day. I’m not sure why they didn’t just cancel us coming in.
I tell you this so you know that I live in one of the cities that Bazelon writes about in her new book.
According to the studies that Bazelon cites in her book, most Americans agree that the justice system needs to be reformed and that in many cases the penalties are too harsh. True, there are some people, like one of my co-workers, who believe people like Krasner haven’t been victims of crime so they don’t care about punishment. But as someone who has lived in a city with harsh penalties, they don’t seem to work that well.
Bazelon makes an excellent and good case as to why this is as well as detailing how the country got to this point. Her book follows two people who are caught in justice in different parts of the country. There is Noura who is accused of murdering her mother, and Keith who is charged with an illegally holding a gun. Noura is white, from Memphis, and her family, well not rich, is not poor. Keith is from NYC, black, and his family is struggling finically. Both are close in age – not having graduated high school when the book opens. Both are basically innocent.
In some ways, Keith is a little luckier because NYC has/had programs that could help him and the idea of punishment was changing. This is not to say that his race, economic background, and neighborhood did not play a role in his charge and his subsequent interaction with police and the system. It is though Keith that Bazelon illustrates the cost to the average person when it comes to the justice system. It isn’t just the charge, but the time that is put on hold, the missed wages, the struggle to move forward on a good path when everything seems to be or is out to get you. Chances are that if you live in a big urban area, you know someone like Keith.
Noura’s case is different and illustrates what happens when a prosecutor doesn’t play by the rules and abuses power. (Noura’s case was also first reported on Bazelon for the New York Times). She is charged and eventually found guilty of murdering her mother. She spends years in jail. You might not know someone like Noura, but Noura’s case also illustrates how power can be horribly abused, and her friendships in prison illustrate, as Noura herself points out, that she is hardly alone in suffering a miscarriage of justice; she just has the benefit of being white.
What is also important is that the long-lasting effects of being charged are shown. It isn’t just the time and money that is loss, but the emotional and mental damage as well. Bazelon does directly tackle how race plays into what happens. The stories of Keith and Noura also lead to discussions with DA’s, defense lawyers, judges, and activists, some good, some bad – some pushing for change, some frustrated because their hands are tied. The book isn’t anti cop or anti-justice – it is pro-humanity.
Reading this right after finishing The Cadaver King and the Country Dentist is enough to make you want to go around smacking people. Thankfully, Bazelon includes a step by step proposal for reforming the justice system, including what people who read her book can do. Not only is the planned sketched out but she also provides cited examples of each step working
Highly recommended.
August 7, 2019
"The unfettered power of prosecutors is the missing piece for explaining how the number of people incarcerated in the United States has quintupled since the 1980s, to a total of almost 2.2 million."
PHENOMENAL. Wow! Reading this made me so sad and frustrated for people like Kevin and Noura who are abused by prosecutors looking to bolster their resumes with convictions. This book will make you outraged at what we willingly call “justice” in this country.
Bazelon follows two cases, that of a young man named Kevin charged with gun possession in Brooklyn, and Noura Jackson, charged with murdering her mother in Memphis. The focus of her narrative is on how corrupt prosecutors use everything at their disposal (including plea bargains) to obtain sentences that don’t fit the crime. There is so much nuance, so much minutiae that it’s easy to get bogged down in the details and still think “surely common sense will prevail here,” but in Bazelon’s book, you see just how often common sense doesn’t prevail, how much bias there is within the justice system, and how prosecutors can wriggle their way out of being held accountable for their actions.
I have so many thoughts about this book, it’s taken me a week to write a review about it, and I still can’t seem to work through my emotions to get everything out. If you’re interested in the cases of Adnan Syed or Curtis Flowers, this is a must read.
See more of my reviews: Blog // Instagram
PHENOMENAL. Wow! Reading this made me so sad and frustrated for people like Kevin and Noura who are abused by prosecutors looking to bolster their resumes with convictions. This book will make you outraged at what we willingly call “justice” in this country.
Bazelon follows two cases, that of a young man named Kevin charged with gun possession in Brooklyn, and Noura Jackson, charged with murdering her mother in Memphis. The focus of her narrative is on how corrupt prosecutors use everything at their disposal (including plea bargains) to obtain sentences that don’t fit the crime. There is so much nuance, so much minutiae that it’s easy to get bogged down in the details and still think “surely common sense will prevail here,” but in Bazelon’s book, you see just how often common sense doesn’t prevail, how much bias there is within the justice system, and how prosecutors can wriggle their way out of being held accountable for their actions.
I have so many thoughts about this book, it’s taken me a week to write a review about it, and I still can’t seem to work through my emotions to get everything out. If you’re interested in the cases of Adnan Syed or Curtis Flowers, this is a must read.
See more of my reviews: Blog // Instagram
April 22, 2020
Using two stories, one about a Brooklyn teenager arrested on a questionable gun possession charge, and the other of a young Memphis woman accused of brutally murdering her own mother, Bazelon lays out a range of topics about America's broken criminal justice system. In the murder case, Bazelon focuses on prosecutorial misconduct and the impunity with which prosecutors in America now operate. And in the gun possession case, Bazelon shows how some progressive D.A.'s are trying to reform the system, but are having to fight long odds and decades of broken tradition to do so.
June 27, 2019
This book starts with a thesis: that the "unfettered power" of prosecutors is a problem that has played a significant role in mass incarceration. But the book goes on to present a completely different argument.
The argument goes like this: much of criminal law is bad policy; it criminalizes some behaviors that should not be crimes and it mandates sentences that are too harsh. But, Ms. Bazelon suggests, it's too hard to change these statutes. So, a shortcut to changing flawed criminal law is to elect a District Attorney who is willing to subvert those laws using his power to charge and power to offer plea bargains. To use her example, the NY legislature decided a few years ago that gun possession has become a massive problem for public safety. It decided to adopt laws making ownership of an unlicensed and loaded gun a felony with a serious penalty, a mandatory minimum of 3 years in prison. Now imagine a person who is caught by police in possession of an unlicensed and loaded gun. In the ordinary course, you would expect the District Attorney's office to charge the crime that fits the facts: possession of an unlicensed and loaded gun. Ms. Bazelon suggests that the DA could chose to charge a lesser crime instead, such as possession of an unloaded gun or a weapon that is not a gun. In this way, the DA gets around the penalty prescribed by the legislature for this crime, and the defendant is exposed to less risk of incarceration. Also, she proposes, the DA should offer the defendant a plea deal that is drastically lower than the charge. For example, the DA could offer to let the defendant plead guilty to a low level misdemeanor with no jail time, or a deferred judgment (which is where the defendant pleads guilty, but then, if he successfully completes probation, the charge is dismissed and he has no conviction).
This is all fine. While some might think it is inappropriate for a single elected executive official to completely overrule the will of the legislative branch, there is nothing illegal or amoral about this proposal. It happens all the time. Consider Trump in charge of the EPA.
My problem with the book is not this proposal. My problem is that this proposal is buried underneath the author's extreme bias against prosecutors.
First, the introductory statement that mass incarceration is in part the result of unfettered prosecutorial power is nonsense. Her thesis is that prosecutors don't use their discretion ENOUGH. The discretion of a prosecutor is entirely to depart downward; to undercharge a crime or to offer a plea or sentence that is lower than that contemplated by the legislature. The prosecutor does not have the power to overcharge. If a person commits possession of a loaded weapon, an angry or racist prosecutor cannot charge him with manslaughter or assault. I have no quarrel with her suggestion that prosecutors use their discretion to reduce sentences. But it is ridiculous to suggest that charging the crime that actually occurred is an abuse of power. The unfettered power to . . . carry out the orders of the legislature exactly as they intended? Um, sure.
The fact that Ms. Bazelon is biased against prosecutors is written on every page of this book. She quotes a law professor who wrote an article titled "Can You Be a Good Person and a Good Prosecutor?" (Her conclusion: "I hope so, but I think not."). Her analysis is dotted with strange assumptions and uncited examples and conclusions. At one point she states: "When a prosecutor refuses to drop the charges against a rape suspect after DNA testing shows that a different man is almost certainly the culprit, defense lawyers sarcastically refer to the new claim that both men committed the rape as the theory of the 'unindicted co-ejaculator.'" Um, what? She's suggesting this is a well known phenomenon, that it happens so often that there's a commonly used term to describe it?? I don't think so. If this ever actually happened, tell me about it, I am curious. Certainly, it sounds ridiculous, and if a prosecutor were stupid enough to believe this and make this argument to a jury, I'm sure they laughed out loud. But to claim that this is so common that there is no need to cite an example is absurd.
Ms. Bazelon claims, without citation, that line deputies are motivated to have as many convictions as possible because conviction rates are important in elections. She claims that prosecutors are reluctant to dismiss charges for fear of angering police officers. She claims that, where a defendant does not take a plea deal and instead goes to trial and is convicted, the prosecutor only asks for a sentence greater than the plea offer out of vindictiveness and a desire to intimidate other defendants into taking plea deals. All of these statements are declared in the tone of everyone-knows-it's-true. I was a prosecutor for seven years, and I can tell you that all of this came as a surprise to me. I never heard anyone talk about conviction rates even once (and I could not have told you my office's or my own). I never heard of anyone worrying about dismissing a case because a police officer might be mad (and, in anything except murder or sex assault, the officer would probably never even find out). And I certainly never heard of anyone asking for a sentence after trial to "punish" the defendant for wanting a trial. The whole point of plea offers is to give the defendant an artificial "discount" for taking responsibility and saving the expense and trouble of a trial. The appropriate considerations in offering a plea deal are the crime, the defendant's criminal history, the harm to the victim, sentences received by other similarly situated defendants, and the RISK AND COST OF TRIAL. This last is particularly serious where the primary witness is a victim, as they are often reluctant to testify and see their victimizer in person (if you were raped, how would you feel about sitting ten feet away from him while his lawyer grills you about how many drinks you had or what you were wearing?). And it would not be possible for the DA's office to try every case; there just aren't enough people or enough resources. When a defendant chooses to go to trial and is convicted, the appropriate considerations are all the same, except the last one. You would therefore expect the requested sentence to be higher; the defendant is no longer enjoying a windfall from the fact that the DA's office has limited resources and that witnesses might not want to cooperate.
In short, Ms. Bazelon advances an interesting proposal for change. But, she herself is so burdened by her prejudice that she advances the proposal in a way that is going to be very unpersuasive to the very people she should be trying to convince. When I finished this book, I knew for certain that she has never practiced criminal law (on either side) and that she is related to or married to a public defender. Her mixture of ideological conviction and practical ignorance make this unmistakable. It's too bad that her own personal baggage so dominates this book. It could have been more than another shout in the echo chamber, it could have actually made a difference. As it is, I expect it will make Ms. Bazelon popular at the deli counter at Zabar's and in the defense clinic at Yale, but otherwise be irrelevant.
The argument goes like this: much of criminal law is bad policy; it criminalizes some behaviors that should not be crimes and it mandates sentences that are too harsh. But, Ms. Bazelon suggests, it's too hard to change these statutes. So, a shortcut to changing flawed criminal law is to elect a District Attorney who is willing to subvert those laws using his power to charge and power to offer plea bargains. To use her example, the NY legislature decided a few years ago that gun possession has become a massive problem for public safety. It decided to adopt laws making ownership of an unlicensed and loaded gun a felony with a serious penalty, a mandatory minimum of 3 years in prison. Now imagine a person who is caught by police in possession of an unlicensed and loaded gun. In the ordinary course, you would expect the District Attorney's office to charge the crime that fits the facts: possession of an unlicensed and loaded gun. Ms. Bazelon suggests that the DA could chose to charge a lesser crime instead, such as possession of an unloaded gun or a weapon that is not a gun. In this way, the DA gets around the penalty prescribed by the legislature for this crime, and the defendant is exposed to less risk of incarceration. Also, she proposes, the DA should offer the defendant a plea deal that is drastically lower than the charge. For example, the DA could offer to let the defendant plead guilty to a low level misdemeanor with no jail time, or a deferred judgment (which is where the defendant pleads guilty, but then, if he successfully completes probation, the charge is dismissed and he has no conviction).
This is all fine. While some might think it is inappropriate for a single elected executive official to completely overrule the will of the legislative branch, there is nothing illegal or amoral about this proposal. It happens all the time. Consider Trump in charge of the EPA.
My problem with the book is not this proposal. My problem is that this proposal is buried underneath the author's extreme bias against prosecutors.
First, the introductory statement that mass incarceration is in part the result of unfettered prosecutorial power is nonsense. Her thesis is that prosecutors don't use their discretion ENOUGH. The discretion of a prosecutor is entirely to depart downward; to undercharge a crime or to offer a plea or sentence that is lower than that contemplated by the legislature. The prosecutor does not have the power to overcharge. If a person commits possession of a loaded weapon, an angry or racist prosecutor cannot charge him with manslaughter or assault. I have no quarrel with her suggestion that prosecutors use their discretion to reduce sentences. But it is ridiculous to suggest that charging the crime that actually occurred is an abuse of power. The unfettered power to . . . carry out the orders of the legislature exactly as they intended? Um, sure.
The fact that Ms. Bazelon is biased against prosecutors is written on every page of this book. She quotes a law professor who wrote an article titled "Can You Be a Good Person and a Good Prosecutor?" (Her conclusion: "I hope so, but I think not."). Her analysis is dotted with strange assumptions and uncited examples and conclusions. At one point she states: "When a prosecutor refuses to drop the charges against a rape suspect after DNA testing shows that a different man is almost certainly the culprit, defense lawyers sarcastically refer to the new claim that both men committed the rape as the theory of the 'unindicted co-ejaculator.'" Um, what? She's suggesting this is a well known phenomenon, that it happens so often that there's a commonly used term to describe it?? I don't think so. If this ever actually happened, tell me about it, I am curious. Certainly, it sounds ridiculous, and if a prosecutor were stupid enough to believe this and make this argument to a jury, I'm sure they laughed out loud. But to claim that this is so common that there is no need to cite an example is absurd.
Ms. Bazelon claims, without citation, that line deputies are motivated to have as many convictions as possible because conviction rates are important in elections. She claims that prosecutors are reluctant to dismiss charges for fear of angering police officers. She claims that, where a defendant does not take a plea deal and instead goes to trial and is convicted, the prosecutor only asks for a sentence greater than the plea offer out of vindictiveness and a desire to intimidate other defendants into taking plea deals. All of these statements are declared in the tone of everyone-knows-it's-true. I was a prosecutor for seven years, and I can tell you that all of this came as a surprise to me. I never heard anyone talk about conviction rates even once (and I could not have told you my office's or my own). I never heard of anyone worrying about dismissing a case because a police officer might be mad (and, in anything except murder or sex assault, the officer would probably never even find out). And I certainly never heard of anyone asking for a sentence after trial to "punish" the defendant for wanting a trial. The whole point of plea offers is to give the defendant an artificial "discount" for taking responsibility and saving the expense and trouble of a trial. The appropriate considerations in offering a plea deal are the crime, the defendant's criminal history, the harm to the victim, sentences received by other similarly situated defendants, and the RISK AND COST OF TRIAL. This last is particularly serious where the primary witness is a victim, as they are often reluctant to testify and see their victimizer in person (if you were raped, how would you feel about sitting ten feet away from him while his lawyer grills you about how many drinks you had or what you were wearing?). And it would not be possible for the DA's office to try every case; there just aren't enough people or enough resources. When a defendant chooses to go to trial and is convicted, the appropriate considerations are all the same, except the last one. You would therefore expect the requested sentence to be higher; the defendant is no longer enjoying a windfall from the fact that the DA's office has limited resources and that witnesses might not want to cooperate.
In short, Ms. Bazelon advances an interesting proposal for change. But, she herself is so burdened by her prejudice that she advances the proposal in a way that is going to be very unpersuasive to the very people she should be trying to convince. When I finished this book, I knew for certain that she has never practiced criminal law (on either side) and that she is related to or married to a public defender. Her mixture of ideological conviction and practical ignorance make this unmistakable. It's too bad that her own personal baggage so dominates this book. It could have been more than another shout in the echo chamber, it could have actually made a difference. As it is, I expect it will make Ms. Bazelon popular at the deli counter at Zabar's and in the defense clinic at Yale, but otherwise be irrelevant.
July 8, 2019
For fans of Michelle Alexander and Bryan Stevenson, this is a look at the power of DAs and the varied experience of defendants depending upon the discretion of their respective DAs. It looks at two individuals: Kevin in New York and Norah in Tennessee - their cases, circumstances, and how they manage the process. Bazelon - an investigative journalist, lawyer, and podcast host - reports on criminal justice reform in a way that is interesting through these two people, but also has more general asides related to criminal justice (for example: the new wave of progressive DAs, restorative justice, Supreme Court cases that have affected criminal justice over time). I don't know if this will be exactly accessible to all but if you enjoy reading books about criminal justice and how it affects people, I would definitely recommend.
April 26, 2023
This was almost amazing. Very, very good but there were some small issues preventing me from giving it a 5 star.
Bazelon is incredibly knowledgable about this topic and the entire package was completely eye opening for me. She walks us through a couple of stories that highlight how much power District Attourneys have and the incredible abuse bad ones can administer. From gun control to simple evidence disclosure she points out just how broken the system is. I was enraged (the male thing to do) at so much of power abuse which doesn't really give me good ratings vibes. It is the one strong emotion I don't want invoked.
With all of the frustration in the beginning she starts adding the stories of the good D.A.s and all of the policies and steps that seem to be working. She finishes with a step by step guide for any lawyer to follow to help fix the system.
I kept comparing this to Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City which was also amazing. The stories in Charged were a bit less compelling, mostly because I was too mad. Really, really good book that I would recommend to anyone.
Bazelon is incredibly knowledgable about this topic and the entire package was completely eye opening for me. She walks us through a couple of stories that highlight how much power District Attourneys have and the incredible abuse bad ones can administer. From gun control to simple evidence disclosure she points out just how broken the system is. I was enraged (the male thing to do) at so much of power abuse which doesn't really give me good ratings vibes. It is the one strong emotion I don't want invoked.
With all of the frustration in the beginning she starts adding the stories of the good D.A.s and all of the policies and steps that seem to be working. She finishes with a step by step guide for any lawyer to follow to help fix the system.
I kept comparing this to Evicted: Poverty and Profit in the American City which was also amazing. The stories in Charged were a bit less compelling, mostly because I was too mad. Really, really good book that I would recommend to anyone.
June 22, 2019
Bazelon does a great job of demonstrating the unchecked power of prosecutors in the American criminal justice system. She goes through the historical change that has led to mass incarceration and highlights the way that the DAs office can set a punitive culture that leads to long sentences or one that is more likely to lead to shorter terms and therapeutic responses.
She ends the book with a 21 point plan for progressive DAs to grow a culture of criminal justice reform that seems very hopeful. As a middle class resident in Madison WI with a progressive DA who has been enacting some of these suggestions I feel like I understand the reasons much more.
However, on the ground here (at least) we have not noticed much decline in crime. In fact, the DAs resistance to locking up or pressing charges against some teenage offenders has led to an increase in car theft and individual hijacking. While the ridiculous rates of incarceration in America are terrible and disproportionate number of minority and poor people within the system is atrocious, I feel like some punishment needs to be meted out in order to show repercussions. I really liked Bazelon's discussion of the HOPE project in Hawaii that enjoins guaranteed but small punishment.
Overall the criminal justice system needs a lot of work and eliminating bail, reducing sentences, and increasing the likelihood of trails vs. pleas seems like the right trend. Parallel work with social services is also important to reduce the amount of jail for people that just need other types of service (housing and mental health help for example).
She ends the book with a 21 point plan for progressive DAs to grow a culture of criminal justice reform that seems very hopeful. As a middle class resident in Madison WI with a progressive DA who has been enacting some of these suggestions I feel like I understand the reasons much more.
However, on the ground here (at least) we have not noticed much decline in crime. In fact, the DAs resistance to locking up or pressing charges against some teenage offenders has led to an increase in car theft and individual hijacking. While the ridiculous rates of incarceration in America are terrible and disproportionate number of minority and poor people within the system is atrocious, I feel like some punishment needs to be meted out in order to show repercussions. I really liked Bazelon's discussion of the HOPE project in Hawaii that enjoins guaranteed but small punishment.
Overall the criminal justice system needs a lot of work and eliminating bail, reducing sentences, and increasing the likelihood of trails vs. pleas seems like the right trend. Parallel work with social services is also important to reduce the amount of jail for people that just need other types of service (housing and mental health help for example).
March 23, 2019
The American criminal justice system is a mess. This really is an indisputable fact. For nearly a half century we've been fighting a War on Drugs, which has only succeeded in putting more drugs on the streets. We run prisons for profit, filling them with young black males and people too poor to afford bail and/or attorneys. We run a barter system with plea bargains, rather than a justice system with trials by jury. Nothing about what we do is fair.
With 'Charged', Emily Bazelon highlights the job of prosecutors, showing us exactly how much power and control they wield over the system and the people caught within it. She lays out this narrative with a focus on two young people; one whose life is destroyed by an uncaring, unjust system, and the other who benefits immensely from the compassion of a different kind of system. We have the ability to wield both types of power, so why are we so quick to destroy?
This book is disturbing, because it should be. But Bazelon also shows us glimmers of hope. In various pockets of our country, justice is becoming a reality rather than a farce. Through these stories, Bazelon shows us that compassion and justice can, in fact, go hand-in-hand.
The reality of our system is nothing like an episode of Law & Order. Money, education, status, race, and religion all weigh heavily in how a person is treated, prosecuted, and punished. There is no such thing as equal rights within our criminal justice system, at least not yet. Maybe if enough people read this book, and enough people demand change, someday we can truly claim a "justice" system.
*I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher.*
With 'Charged', Emily Bazelon highlights the job of prosecutors, showing us exactly how much power and control they wield over the system and the people caught within it. She lays out this narrative with a focus on two young people; one whose life is destroyed by an uncaring, unjust system, and the other who benefits immensely from the compassion of a different kind of system. We have the ability to wield both types of power, so why are we so quick to destroy?
This book is disturbing, because it should be. But Bazelon also shows us glimmers of hope. In various pockets of our country, justice is becoming a reality rather than a farce. Through these stories, Bazelon shows us that compassion and justice can, in fact, go hand-in-hand.
The reality of our system is nothing like an episode of Law & Order. Money, education, status, race, and religion all weigh heavily in how a person is treated, prosecuted, and punished. There is no such thing as equal rights within our criminal justice system, at least not yet. Maybe if enough people read this book, and enough people demand change, someday we can truly claim a "justice" system.
*I received an advance copy of this book from the publisher.*
December 5, 2019
I am a big fan of Emily Bazelon. She is an excellent writer and writes about issues I am passionate about. I have always said if we are to reduce mass incarceration, We must start at the root cause - the D.A. This book focuses on the role of overzealous DAs and their abuse of power and cuddly relationship with cops.
She follows the cases of two young victims of an unjust criminal justice system, points out flaws in their prosecution while interweaving the stories of several reform minded DAs in Brooklyn, Philly and Chicago.
I also found it interesting that she pointed out that the more nonprofits in a particular area, the lower the crime rate. Nonprofit deserts are breeding grounds for crime. She also compared the effectiveness of some nonprofits. Cure Violence, a program I have long admired is very effective according to data. At the same time, Ceasefire, is well documented to be ineffective and actually causes more harm than good, especially for black and brown folks.
It all boils down to the misguided tenet that the job of the DA is to put people in jail when in actuality their job is to implement fairness and justice. Jail should be the last resort and bail reform should be mandatory. Otherwise, we are just criminalizing poverty.
She follows the cases of two young victims of an unjust criminal justice system, points out flaws in their prosecution while interweaving the stories of several reform minded DAs in Brooklyn, Philly and Chicago.
I also found it interesting that she pointed out that the more nonprofits in a particular area, the lower the crime rate. Nonprofit deserts are breeding grounds for crime. She also compared the effectiveness of some nonprofits. Cure Violence, a program I have long admired is very effective according to data. At the same time, Ceasefire, is well documented to be ineffective and actually causes more harm than good, especially for black and brown folks.
It all boils down to the misguided tenet that the job of the DA is to put people in jail when in actuality their job is to implement fairness and justice. Jail should be the last resort and bail reform should be mandatory. Otherwise, we are just criminalizing poverty.
June 3, 2020
This book, more than anything else I’ve consumed, made me particularly sympathetic to the US Second Amendment. In a way. :P
It’s also one of those books that looks into the brutal crime and punishment legacy of my childhood in the ’80s and ’90s, and the blockback and reform we are finally starting to see in the current day.
Bazelon states in her prologue that she’ll be following two people, Kevin and Noura, through their criminal charges and time in the justice system. They both offer a very specific, human voice to her tale. But really, more than that, she’s following around a bunch of criminal justice professionals. Sometimes the names and the legal jargon could get overwhelming for a novice. But her major thesis has to do with prosecution. Prosecutors have a lot of power—they often have sole power to decide on whether a person’s sentencing is light or draconian—and they also can’t be brought to civil suit, thanks to the Supreme Court. (Personally speaking, the right to hold people in positions of power accountable for their actions is one of the pinnacles of this so-called democracy.)
There’s an “old school” style of prosecution offices that pride themselves on locking people up. They get accolades and promotions for big sentence cases. Made me think, as I was reading, how prosecutors should have more empathy for all the gun posturing gang members and other kids from the projects, and what they do to gain street cred.
I’m grateful to this book for giving me a deeper understanding of realities of life in impoverished urban areas. “Kevin,” not his real name, was charged for gun possession in Brooklyn, NY (he was covering for a friend with a criminal record, which seems to be somewhat standard practice in these sorts of situations.) Kevin would face less of a charge. But as the case went on, it felt ludicrous to regulate simply having a gun in hand as a “violent offense.” There are a lot of “violent offenses”—with hefty prison terms—for actions that didn’t directly endanger humans.
Kevin was sent to a diversion program rather than prison—one of these reformative moves that privileges the chance at rehabilitation over punitive punishment. This is due in part to District Attorney Eric Gonazles, one of the progressive lawmakers Bazelon profiles in depth. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have “old school” DA Amy Weirich, from Tennessee, who may have replaced Kevin Feldis from AMERICAN PREDATOR as my “most villainous public servant.” (To be fair, Bazelon put a lot of effort into also portraying Weirich’s point of view, and that of both her supporters and detractors.)
Weirich was responsible for charging Noura Jackson with the murder of her mother. When Bazelon first introduced this case, I was a little eyebrow-archy. Noura was a middle-class white girl, so not the usual “criminal” in the US justice system. On its own, her story is more than compelling, and certainly a case for prosecution overreach. (Elsewhere, Bazelon digs into facts and statistics about the over-policing of minorities—Black men in particular—and even posits the thesis that since urban communities don’t trust the system, the system is shooting itself in the foot.) Noura’s case went into reliance on circumstantial “evidence,” the murkiness around what prosecution is supposed to turn over to the defense team before the trial, and more.
This is mostly a book about trials and the like, not prison realities, but there’s some overlap. Reminds me of SOLITARY by Albert Woodfox, with similar cases of the questionable nature of plea deals, police tacking random crimes on random perps, and the prosecution’s use of psychological conditioning to get what they want.
At the end of the book, Bazelon concedes that by focusing mostly on prosecutors, she may be overlooking other aspects that contribute to our flawed justice and prison system. But it’s hard not to be impressed by her sheer amount of research and relationship-building—not only regarding justice offices, but also social workers, community groups, defense lawyers, and other so-called criminals. Some have questionable guilt. Most turn their lives around when given the chance at treatment less damaging than prison. Damaging to the rest of us, too, as Bazelon and her sources remind us, since prison often hardens people to re-offend.
To circle back to my first point, I do want fewer guns in this country. And less drug use, too, to get into that. But it seems clear through this book that the way to do that is not by putting massive amounts of people behind bars. We need to refocus on communities and humanity. I’m grateful I got a glimpse, in these pages.
It’s also one of those books that looks into the brutal crime and punishment legacy of my childhood in the ’80s and ’90s, and the blockback and reform we are finally starting to see in the current day.
Bazelon states in her prologue that she’ll be following two people, Kevin and Noura, through their criminal charges and time in the justice system. They both offer a very specific, human voice to her tale. But really, more than that, she’s following around a bunch of criminal justice professionals. Sometimes the names and the legal jargon could get overwhelming for a novice. But her major thesis has to do with prosecution. Prosecutors have a lot of power—they often have sole power to decide on whether a person’s sentencing is light or draconian—and they also can’t be brought to civil suit, thanks to the Supreme Court. (Personally speaking, the right to hold people in positions of power accountable for their actions is one of the pinnacles of this so-called democracy.)
There’s an “old school” style of prosecution offices that pride themselves on locking people up. They get accolades and promotions for big sentence cases. Made me think, as I was reading, how prosecutors should have more empathy for all the gun posturing gang members and other kids from the projects, and what they do to gain street cred.
I’m grateful to this book for giving me a deeper understanding of realities of life in impoverished urban areas. “Kevin,” not his real name, was charged for gun possession in Brooklyn, NY (he was covering for a friend with a criminal record, which seems to be somewhat standard practice in these sorts of situations.) Kevin would face less of a charge. But as the case went on, it felt ludicrous to regulate simply having a gun in hand as a “violent offense.” There are a lot of “violent offenses”—with hefty prison terms—for actions that didn’t directly endanger humans.
Kevin was sent to a diversion program rather than prison—one of these reformative moves that privileges the chance at rehabilitation over punitive punishment. This is due in part to District Attorney Eric Gonazles, one of the progressive lawmakers Bazelon profiles in depth. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have “old school” DA Amy Weirich, from Tennessee, who may have replaced Kevin Feldis from AMERICAN PREDATOR as my “most villainous public servant.” (To be fair, Bazelon put a lot of effort into also portraying Weirich’s point of view, and that of both her supporters and detractors.)
Weirich was responsible for charging Noura Jackson with the murder of her mother. When Bazelon first introduced this case, I was a little eyebrow-archy. Noura was a middle-class white girl, so not the usual “criminal” in the US justice system. On its own, her story is more than compelling, and certainly a case for prosecution overreach. (Elsewhere, Bazelon digs into facts and statistics about the over-policing of minorities—Black men in particular—and even posits the thesis that since urban communities don’t trust the system, the system is shooting itself in the foot.) Noura’s case went into reliance on circumstantial “evidence,” the murkiness around what prosecution is supposed to turn over to the defense team before the trial, and more.
This is mostly a book about trials and the like, not prison realities, but there’s some overlap. Reminds me of SOLITARY by Albert Woodfox, with similar cases of the questionable nature of plea deals, police tacking random crimes on random perps, and the prosecution’s use of psychological conditioning to get what they want.
At the end of the book, Bazelon concedes that by focusing mostly on prosecutors, she may be overlooking other aspects that contribute to our flawed justice and prison system. But it’s hard not to be impressed by her sheer amount of research and relationship-building—not only regarding justice offices, but also social workers, community groups, defense lawyers, and other so-called criminals. Some have questionable guilt. Most turn their lives around when given the chance at treatment less damaging than prison. Damaging to the rest of us, too, as Bazelon and her sources remind us, since prison often hardens people to re-offend.
To circle back to my first point, I do want fewer guns in this country. And less drug use, too, to get into that. But it seems clear through this book that the way to do that is not by putting massive amounts of people behind bars. We need to refocus on communities and humanity. I’m grateful I got a glimpse, in these pages.
May 16, 2019
Over a dozen years ago I was working on a report for a racial profiling campaign a coalition of organizations had organized. I came across a research study that looked at racial disparities in criminal justice from arrest to sentencing. I was surprised to see prosecutorial decisions, not overpolicing, identified as the most significant factor in racial disparities in incarceration. This sparked an unending interest in how we fight over-incarceration and the use of the criminal justice system as a boot on the necks of Black people.
Charged is an examination of how prosecutors have become the drivers of over-incarceration and racial disparities. Author Emily Bazelon also includes an invaluable appendix detailing several powerful reforms that are necessary to redress the problems in prosecution.
Bazelon hangs her argument on two examples of prosecutors at work and the people they hold in their power. In New York, Kevin has been charged with having a gun in his own home. In Memphis, Noura Jackson is accused of killing her mother. Kevin’s story demonstrates how a prosecutor taking a chance and allowing someone a second chance can pay off. Noura’s story tells of a prosecuto with tunnel vision, more committed to a win than to justice, withholding evidence that could help the defense and never paying a price for it.
Impunity is the reason prosecutors are so dangerous to justice. They are unpunished when they violate ethical rules and even when they break the law. They also work under the moral hazard of sending people to prison and having the state, not the county, pay the bill, never having to account for their expenditures.
The appendix is reason enough to read Charged. The book is based on solid research that is well-documented. Bazelon talked to prosecutors all over the country and attended meetings of reformers. She sat in on trials and bail hearings. She tells story after story of injustice and examines how particular court decisions have exacerbated the problem. She did her homework and then some.
The stories are interesting, though often infuriating, and Bazelon does a great job of explaining complex information and distilling a large story to its essence. The one weakness is when writing about events she attended, injecting details like snacks and coffee and audience participation. I understand the idea of details making something come alive, but these details are just silly and distracting.
If you care about over-incarceration, systemic racism, or racial justice, you should read this book. If you care about effective policing and budget responsibility, you should read this book. The only people who should skip it are those who are happy with the US locking up more people than China, not per capital, more people in real numbers.
I received an e-galley of Charged from the publisher through NetGalley.
Charged at Penguin Random House
Emily Bazelon author site
https://tonstantweaderreviews.wordpre...
Charged is an examination of how prosecutors have become the drivers of over-incarceration and racial disparities. Author Emily Bazelon also includes an invaluable appendix detailing several powerful reforms that are necessary to redress the problems in prosecution.
Bazelon hangs her argument on two examples of prosecutors at work and the people they hold in their power. In New York, Kevin has been charged with having a gun in his own home. In Memphis, Noura Jackson is accused of killing her mother. Kevin’s story demonstrates how a prosecutor taking a chance and allowing someone a second chance can pay off. Noura’s story tells of a prosecuto with tunnel vision, more committed to a win than to justice, withholding evidence that could help the defense and never paying a price for it.
Impunity is the reason prosecutors are so dangerous to justice. They are unpunished when they violate ethical rules and even when they break the law. They also work under the moral hazard of sending people to prison and having the state, not the county, pay the bill, never having to account for their expenditures.
The appendix is reason enough to read Charged. The book is based on solid research that is well-documented. Bazelon talked to prosecutors all over the country and attended meetings of reformers. She sat in on trials and bail hearings. She tells story after story of injustice and examines how particular court decisions have exacerbated the problem. She did her homework and then some.
The stories are interesting, though often infuriating, and Bazelon does a great job of explaining complex information and distilling a large story to its essence. The one weakness is when writing about events she attended, injecting details like snacks and coffee and audience participation. I understand the idea of details making something come alive, but these details are just silly and distracting.
If you care about over-incarceration, systemic racism, or racial justice, you should read this book. If you care about effective policing and budget responsibility, you should read this book. The only people who should skip it are those who are happy with the US locking up more people than China, not per capital, more people in real numbers.
I received an e-galley of Charged from the publisher through NetGalley.
Charged at Penguin Random House
Emily Bazelon author site
https://tonstantweaderreviews.wordpre...
Read
April 1, 2019I know very little about the criminal justice system, and throughout, I found myself overwhelmed with how it does and does not work. Bazelon, though, explains these systems well and showcases how it is the system is set up and how Prosecutors have taken on an increasingly powerful role in it. Told primarily through two very different cases -- one of a young black man in a rough area of Brooklyn and one of a middle class white girl from Memphis -- the power of the prosecutors are shown in how they can force plea bargains which ultimately hurt the accused and set them up to be in a lose-lose situation, even if they aren't found guilty. I had a vague idea how mass incarceration looked, but this was an eye opener in how it really works...and how it becomes a political tool for prosecutors who use their "wins" in cases as fuel for reelection (in most states, they're elected).
More to come.
More to come.
April 30, 2019
It goes beyond adding a human voice to what so often gets labeled as “criminal”. It shows the distinction between political-action and translation into layers of judicial bureaucracy. As an individual that works in the judicial branch of local government, Bazelon has opened my perception on some of the rigmarole we do as law clerks.
Even if you’re not a progressive; the true-crime pace this book reads at, provides valuable insight into our local courts.
Even if you’re not a progressive; the true-crime pace this book reads at, provides valuable insight into our local courts.
November 13, 2019
The author details a number of people whose lives have been wrecked by the criminal justice system in different ways. Excessive bail, wrongfully convicted and treatment in different ways. The topic is very interesting and I’ve listened to the author’s podcast and interviews on NPR. My problem is that the book isn’t written in a way that held my interest and struggled to read it through. I did but it was a chore.
Read
April 20, 2021I picked up this book as an example of narrative non fiction. Bazelon takes two cases of very different people and crimes and uses it to dissect the many ways that prosecutors can use their discretion to wreck a person's life. She also illustrates the near-impossibility of exoneration once convicted. Utterly infuriating.
July 13, 2019
I wish I could give this 10 stars. This is a fascinating, and enraging and, ultimately, maybe hopeful picture of some of the biggest injustices in our "justice" system. I hope this gets a very wide audience.
September 25, 2019
Chock full of detail displaying the guts of our "justice" system.
August 1, 2024
meh, not really anything new to folks in this space. prosecutors bad :/
June 8, 2025
Informative book about systemic injustice in prosecution. The author follows cases at the Brooklyn and Memphis DAs office to highlight differences in how prosecutorial discretion is used.
July 26, 2019
excellent research, interviews, and explanations of cases and their outcomes, following two in particular with very different circumstances and how the prosecutorial system failed them.
December 18, 2019
Charged is a well written, well researched, and much needed book about one of the most proactive forces in perpetuating the epidemic of mass incarceration in America – the unchecked power of prosecutors in the American judicial system. Bazelon does a great job in presenting how the system is rigged to keep defendants – particularly poor and minority defendants – in jail/prison and under the thumb of the judicial system. She assiduously deconstructs systemic problems with such as misuse the bail system, plea deals, and the substantive law itself (ie. the discretionary interpretation of the Brady rule by prosecutors and judges), all of which have participated in keeping people behind bars for extraordinary amounts of time, even for particularly low-level offenses.
More poignantly, Bazeon takes aim at the prosecutorial culture in America. She illustrates the tunnel vision that is perpetuated in many prosecutors’ offices across the country. This tunnel vision of winning a conviction at all costs leads to prosecutors using the bail system and plea deals to throw the book at defendants, and, in some of the worst cases, blatantly violating the Brady rule to ensure the conviction of even those defendants that have barely a circumstantial case against them. This area of the book struck me deeply. I have seen this tunnel vision in action and it’s not pretty. I have seen how aspects of legal culture can be a potent and toxic mix of ego and superiority. I have often wondered that the law attracts, in many cases, the type of person that is amenable to this tunnel vision (how often did my own mother say I should be a lawyer because of my refusal to give in an argument). Add to that, legal education that is totally black letter and devoid of any human element, and legal training that places a high price on winning at all cost, and you have a recipe for the worst kind of advocate.
To illustrate this point further, Bazelon grounds her research in the story of two very different cases – the case of Kevin, a young man from the wrong side of the tracks who is given an unusual break by the advocates around him, and the case of Noura, a young woman from the seemingly right side of the tracks who gets caught up in a Kafkaesque nightmare at the hands of a prosecutor (Shelby county’s Amy Weirich – the current DA and the county with the worst prosecutorial record in the country) who egregiously twists and undermines the law to reach her goal of conviction at any cost. Both cases were useful in fully illustrating the disturbing levels of power prosecutors have in driving a case and determining how defendants get treated along the way.
I will say that I do agree with the review by Adam Gropnik in the New Yorker with regard to Bazelon’s choice to use the case against Noura. It is clear that Bazelon comes firmly from the point of Noura’s innocence and, therefore, heightens the egregious treatment against her with that pov. However, in many ways, this is the anomaly in the system. The reality is that is the guilty people who are feeling the real brunt of the power of the prosecutors - ie. threatening harsh sentencing unless an agreement to a plea deal is made, exorbitant bail that do not match the charges, etc. Should we not be worried that a person may receive life in prison for a non-violent crime that would barely be punished in another country? Should we not be worried about our culture that assumes guilt equals retribution no matter what the facts?
This is an important read. It dives into our culture that creates criminals rather than reforms them (SC Justice Sotomayor is quoted: “We think we’re keeping people safe from criminals. We’re just making worse criminals.”), and gives voice to the precious few who are working within the system to change it. How I wish books like this were mandatory in law school!
More poignantly, Bazeon takes aim at the prosecutorial culture in America. She illustrates the tunnel vision that is perpetuated in many prosecutors’ offices across the country. This tunnel vision of winning a conviction at all costs leads to prosecutors using the bail system and plea deals to throw the book at defendants, and, in some of the worst cases, blatantly violating the Brady rule to ensure the conviction of even those defendants that have barely a circumstantial case against them. This area of the book struck me deeply. I have seen this tunnel vision in action and it’s not pretty. I have seen how aspects of legal culture can be a potent and toxic mix of ego and superiority. I have often wondered that the law attracts, in many cases, the type of person that is amenable to this tunnel vision (how often did my own mother say I should be a lawyer because of my refusal to give in an argument). Add to that, legal education that is totally black letter and devoid of any human element, and legal training that places a high price on winning at all cost, and you have a recipe for the worst kind of advocate.
To illustrate this point further, Bazelon grounds her research in the story of two very different cases – the case of Kevin, a young man from the wrong side of the tracks who is given an unusual break by the advocates around him, and the case of Noura, a young woman from the seemingly right side of the tracks who gets caught up in a Kafkaesque nightmare at the hands of a prosecutor (Shelby county’s Amy Weirich – the current DA and the county with the worst prosecutorial record in the country) who egregiously twists and undermines the law to reach her goal of conviction at any cost. Both cases were useful in fully illustrating the disturbing levels of power prosecutors have in driving a case and determining how defendants get treated along the way.
I will say that I do agree with the review by Adam Gropnik in the New Yorker with regard to Bazelon’s choice to use the case against Noura. It is clear that Bazelon comes firmly from the point of Noura’s innocence and, therefore, heightens the egregious treatment against her with that pov. However, in many ways, this is the anomaly in the system. The reality is that is the guilty people who are feeling the real brunt of the power of the prosecutors - ie. threatening harsh sentencing unless an agreement to a plea deal is made, exorbitant bail that do not match the charges, etc. Should we not be worried that a person may receive life in prison for a non-violent crime that would barely be punished in another country? Should we not be worried about our culture that assumes guilt equals retribution no matter what the facts?
This is an important read. It dives into our culture that creates criminals rather than reforms them (SC Justice Sotomayor is quoted: “We think we’re keeping people safe from criminals. We’re just making worse criminals.”), and gives voice to the precious few who are working within the system to change it. How I wish books like this were mandatory in law school!
April 26, 2019
A painfully important book. I had to go slowly with this because I couldn't handle the injustice for long stretches of time. Why do humans suck so much sometimes?! I'm glad this journalist is advocating for change and getting the message out there.
May 28, 2019
A nonfiction book about overzealous prosecutors and how our current system of law (and how it's being interpreted, due to convention) ends up sending people to jail who are either innocent are guilty of crimes far more minor than the punishment assigned.
The book highlights 2 case studies: one, a man named Kevin who "takes the fall" for a friend by claiming possession of a gun in the friend's apartment; and a girl named Noura who gets arrested for the murder of her mother, but is (apparently) innocent. These 2 case studies are intertwined with the rest of the book, which is a detailed study of how prosecutors often overreach.
One thinks "we have laws and we have a system." I thought I was pretty cynical and non-naive about this before. But this book really highlights how you don't even know the half of it. Prosecutors largely dictate what happens to people convicted of crimes due to coercive plea bargains and overreaching as far as applying maximum sentences. The details in this book are astounding.
Only one of the 2 people profiled is non-white, but the racist treatment of him is appalling. He was arrested for watching a dice game in a park, because OTHER people watching were smoking pot. Not him. Then he was tested for drugs and was found positive, but he was not on drugs--he insisted on a re-test and was cleared. Turns out the lab worker mixed up some vials. And this was while he was on parole, so this could have seriously messed up his life.
The appalling stories go on and on. The most enlightening thing about this book is just how much wiggle room prosecutors have, and you don't realize how much gray area there is (and how that ends up overpunishing some guilty people, and also over-convicting the innocent).
The book highlights 2 case studies: one, a man named Kevin who "takes the fall" for a friend by claiming possession of a gun in the friend's apartment; and a girl named Noura who gets arrested for the murder of her mother, but is (apparently) innocent. These 2 case studies are intertwined with the rest of the book, which is a detailed study of how prosecutors often overreach.
One thinks "we have laws and we have a system." I thought I was pretty cynical and non-naive about this before. But this book really highlights how you don't even know the half of it. Prosecutors largely dictate what happens to people convicted of crimes due to coercive plea bargains and overreaching as far as applying maximum sentences. The details in this book are astounding.
Only one of the 2 people profiled is non-white, but the racist treatment of him is appalling. He was arrested for watching a dice game in a park, because OTHER people watching were smoking pot. Not him. Then he was tested for drugs and was found positive, but he was not on drugs--he insisted on a re-test and was cleared. Turns out the lab worker mixed up some vials. And this was while he was on parole, so this could have seriously messed up his life.
The appalling stories go on and on. The most enlightening thing about this book is just how much wiggle room prosecutors have, and you don't realize how much gray area there is (and how that ends up overpunishing some guilty people, and also over-convicting the innocent).
June 6, 2019
Interesting points about the unfair advantages of prosecutors over defences, with an account of people and organizations promoting a different way of doing the job, somewhat smothered by accounts of two individuals' cases which were covered in more depth than the purpose of the book demanded.
Prosecutors in most places: get to request bail way above what is necessary to return defendants to court, leaving them stuck in jail; choose which charges to press in an arbitrarily punitive way; demand a severe penalty in sentencing for going to trial compared to taking a plea; and thus they have the power to pressurise innocent defendants into plea bargains. They also have the right to withhold exculpatory evidence during plea negotiations, and the effective power to illegally hide it during trial. On top of this, prosecutors have immunity from civil rights lawsuits for actions taken in preparing for or trying a case. The adversarial system and elected district attorney positions incentivize prosecutors to play hardball to win tough punishments, instead of using prison-diversion programs that may result in better outcomes for recidivism.
But more progressive-minded prosecutors are being elected, who demand bail for release only where necessary and seek to do their part to reduce crime without resort to mass incarceration.
Prosecutors in most places: get to request bail way above what is necessary to return defendants to court, leaving them stuck in jail; choose which charges to press in an arbitrarily punitive way; demand a severe penalty in sentencing for going to trial compared to taking a plea; and thus they have the power to pressurise innocent defendants into plea bargains. They also have the right to withhold exculpatory evidence during plea negotiations, and the effective power to illegally hide it during trial. On top of this, prosecutors have immunity from civil rights lawsuits for actions taken in preparing for or trying a case. The adversarial system and elected district attorney positions incentivize prosecutors to play hardball to win tough punishments, instead of using prison-diversion programs that may result in better outcomes for recidivism.
But more progressive-minded prosecutors are being elected, who demand bail for release only where necessary and seek to do their part to reduce crime without resort to mass incarceration.
June 30, 2019
Living in Philadelphia, home of Larry Krasner, I found this book to be a worthwhile overview of the movement to change prosecutorial practices. A while back, I had only heard of attempts to rein in mandatory minimum sentences or "three strikes you're out" laws, and to reduce prosecution of marijuana-related crimes that disproportionally affect black Americans. It's only in the past few years, as a result of this movement, that I've gained a sense of how aggressive charges and plea agreements put a finger on the scale of justice in a more universal sense. I've felt embarrassed by the belatedness of my perceiving this, so I liked having this book as an overview of the issue. I didn't think that it was a particularly challenging book, either intellectually or in terms of changing my mind, more a readable panorama that matched some memorable people to the issues.
July 20, 2020
The subject matter is extremely important, and the personal stories are compelling, growing more so as the book progresses. However, Bazelon's writing seems at times incoherent. The subjects all mesh together, and she moves from topic to topic without giving a clear sense of how one leads to the next. The chapter breaks seemed almost arbitrary. I simply couldn't figure out what she was grouping together, so I found it hard to follow at times. I wish it were a more straightforward read, but even if it isn't, I'm still glad I read it. It's infuriating and heartbreaking, and it makes me think that I have to pay way more attention to who's on the election ticket for D.A. That may be the most crucial takeaway.
March 1, 2019
This is a hard book to read, but a necessary one. Our system is broken and there's not much political will to fix it. People are going to continue to suffer injustice--all I can say is my hat's off to my public defense bar colleagues. You're doing the work of the angels.
October 3, 2019
I agree with her thesis but did not love her story telling. I enjoyed more the pieces of information about cases and statistics than the story of the two cases she followed. Wants to be Gladwell but, even if her ideas are worthy, she does not have the acumen.
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