I’ll Have My Day... Ummm., Make That 60 Seconds in Court

People often imagine that criminal defendants have the opportunity to defend themselves and their cases. To “have your day in court” is seen as a chance to advocate for yourself before an impartial judge and jury. However, this is rarely ever the case. For the vast majority of criminal defendants, cases result in plea deals and do not go to trial. Moreover, when criminal defendants attempt to speak on their own behalf in court, they are often hushed by their defense counsel and brushed off by the judge. Criminal defendants are expected to remain silent and allow for their counsel, the prosecutor, and the judge to deliberate and determine the outcome of their case—a process that is often speedy and wrapped up within a couple of minutes. While the silencing of criminal defendants is designed to protect them from incriminating themselves, defendants often appear agitated and discontent with their inability to speak on their own behalf, especially within the limited time frame in which they appear before the judge. 

Recently I observed one particular defendant, who was brought into the courtroom in chains. His family sat behind me in the crowd, and he was represented by a private attorney. Despite being confined by the chains, he held onto several documents for his case, and he listened attentively to the court proceedings. While the judge spoke, the defendant repeatedly tried to grab the attention of his attorney. He appeared flustered and angry as his private attorney kept hushing and waving him away. The defendant, visibly upset, finally cried, “you’re worried about being embarrassed. I’m worried about my life!” Within seconds, the case was brought to a close and the defendant was guided by officers to a concealed room. His attorney stormed off and signaled to the defendant’s family to follow him. The case lasted a total of two minutes.

While the private attorney could walk out of the courtroom and take his time to contemplate his client’s case, the defendant was taken back to jail to wait in his cell. The defendant appeared knowledgeable and devoted to his case, and he likely spent a substantial amount of time preparing for his court appearance. However, he was silenced, and his case was given attention for mere minutes. 

It is not surprising that this defendant was ignored despite appearing to understand his case. In general, defendants are often perceived as having less knowledge about the legal system, and even when they do have any awareness, they are criticized for how they attained such information. Nicole Gonzalez discusses this perception in her fascinating book, Crook County. She writes that criminal defendants are “...judged for knowing ‘street law,’ but when they try to engage as educated equals with the attorneys (by going to the law library, for instance), they are stigmatized or seen as posturing for status within the jail and among ‘criminals,’” (p. 165). Therefore, regardless of what the defendant may have to say about his case, his knowledge is pre-determined to be unworthy. 

Excluding the defendant from participating in case proceedings may help with the efficiency of the court. Court agents value moving through cases quickly and because not all cases have the necessary materials to move forward and reach a conclusion on any given day, it is easiest to omit any unnecessary participation. Still, the dismissal of the defendant and his pleas by every agent in the court reveals a robotic-like structure of the court that is less focused on the human needs of the defendant and more so on the efficiency of the court. While some structures are put in place with the defendant’s interests in mind, they too often fail individuals by disempowering them.