RHDefense: The Law Office of Rick Horowitz
Home of Probable Cause: The Legal Blog with the Really Low Standard of Review
I don’t often mention my cases online. I figure my clients deserve as much anonymity as I can give them, regardless of whether I win or lose. So you won’t find very many of my blog articles where I talk about the cases I’ve handled.
Today, though, I’m going to talk a little bit about one I won on Friday.
Plea bargaining should be outlawed.
There. I said it. Now you know where I stand.
At the same time, I am a criminal defense attorney who represents people who are often unfairly targeted and unfairly charged in a system that is fundamentally unfair.
Unfair, wrong — hell, let’s call it what it is: EVIL.
But you like it that way.
At the risk of talking myself out of a job or two, let’s clear something up immediately: Even though it doesn’t apply to me (because as long as I’ve practiced law, I’ve always been a private attorney), I hate the phrase “Public Pretender.”
I hate that people use it; I hate to hear it. It’s pointless, usually slanderous, and in almost all cases — except perhaps in Kings County, California, where it is said contract attorneys will lose their contracts if they upset the prosecutors in their black robes judges – unwarranted.
I’ve never been a public defender. But when people ask, “Are you an attorney, or a public pretender?” my reaction is “a what?! what’s that?” I know exactly what they mean, of course, but I ask it in a tone that (I hope) communicates that I’m wondering if it’s some street performer, maybe a homeless actor or comedian.
And that I’m quite amused that there’s a name for such persons.
This post may sound self-congratulatory.
I don’t give a sh*t. It’s not meant to be that way. But after you read the post, maybe you’ll understand why I’m grateful my year can end on such a note.
This post is about how it feels sometimes to be a criminal defense attorney and about the occasional need to stop and remember that, no matter what, I have to keep going.
Recently, I won a medical marijuana case without even mentioning the words “medical” or “marijuana.” The experience, however, was anything but enjoyable and if I had known what I was getting into, I would never have taken the case.
It wasn’t the law of the case, or the issues involved, that made things difficult. It was the client. His point of view on “hiring an attorney” was that he paid good money for me. “Goddammit,” he frequently yelled, “I paid you; I’m the boss!”
But that’s not how hiring a lawyer works. Believe it or not, the “job” of a criminal defense attorney is not to do whatever his client wants, but to put on the best defense possible; to try to win the case. We’re trained for that. You’re not. That’s why you want us.
When I say, “You’re not” trained for that, I don’t intend to be mean or disrespectful to you. You’re also not trained to be brain surgeons. And, even if you were, operating on your own brain would not be wise. (The legal variation on this is “the attorney who represents himself has a fool for a client.”)
I’m writing this post because that client — whose case I won, remember — was not the first and probably won’t be the last who thought his payment of my fee meant that he got to call all the shots. I’m writing this post because, if you think that way, you’ll want another attorney. I’m not going to be as nice about this with the next person who tries calling me at 6 a.m., or 11:30 p.m., to question what I’m doing, try to force me to spend hours on the phone, and screams or yells obscenities to spice up the conversation.
When you hire an attorney, you’re hiring someone who has — allegedly — been through law school. Even a dumb attorney probably has learned more than your five-minute, five-day, or even five-month Internet search is going to teach you about handling your criminal defense.
If you disagree, represent yourself! That’s your right.
An analogy that pops into my mind is this: Can you imagine hiring a gunslinger in the Old West, but after hiring him, you decide you’re going to follow him around, help him draw the gun, hold onto his hand while he aims, and, with your finger over his, you pull the trigger when you think it needs to be pulled?
That’s just dumb. If you don’t want to trust the skills of the person you hired, either get another attorney, or handle your case yourself.
I’ve spent a lot of time working to get where I am. I went through years of school. I clerked under a good criminal defense specialist. I regularly pay good money for continuing education courses and consult with my peers — other attorneys who have done the same thing.
Do you really think your Internet education helps you better understand how to handle your case than my education and experience helps me handle it?
Then don’t hire me.
I’m a criminal defense attorney. That’s my job. If you want someone who can fight your case, call me.
If you need a babysitter, or someone who will do whatever you tell them to do, you’ve come to the wrong place.
Scott Greenfield writes in “On Sale, Motion to Suppress,” about how even criminal defense is not immune from the tsunami of “unbundled” services that have hit other areas of law. He’s not happy about it.
Scott and I don’t always see eye-to-eye — in fact, if I understand things correctly, I’ve been “kicked off the island” of his blogroll for refusing to stop talking to the wrong kids on the Internet playground. One man’s silliness, though, isn’t going to stop me from recognizing when he’s got a point on some other issue. And if there’s one thing Scott does tend to get right, it concerns the danger of embracing technology and innovation in the law without thinking.
Folks repeatedly tell Scott that “the marketplace is changing,” with the implication being that he needs to change with it.
There may be a few things I’d change about Scott Greenfield: grousing about an unthinking embrace of technology and innovation how legal services are provided is not one of them.
There’s an old story about The Tortoise & The Hare.
This isn’t it.
This is a story about different kinds of attorneys and why I’m not that.
Well, maybe I can say that a little more clearly: this post is about attorneys practicing several different areas of law and why I’ve so far chosen to practice only one, strenuously resisting all temptations — and there have been many — to add another.
I’m a pretty smart guy. Usually. Or, at least, I’m not a stupid guy. I know a few things. Exactly how many is something that is no doubt open for debate. But one of the first things I learned on my own, as a child, is that only a fool thinks he knows everything.
There is no one walking — or crawling — the planet who does not make mistakes. Even robots make mistakes.
I started to call this post “The Accidental Attorney,” but a recent post uses a similar title. Besides, I don’t want to give the impression that everything in my life has been a big accident, although I admit to frequently wondering if I shouldn’t have become a psychologist. In truth it is an accident that I became an attorney. There’s no denying that fact. But it is no accident at all that I became a criminal defense attorney. That was a conscious decision.
The decision I made to become a criminal defense attorney came as a reaction to the problems of complexity, simplicity, and the quest for perfection. Time and space limitations mean I’m likely to make this a two-part post. This first part will talk about my initial steps towards becoming a criminal defense attorney. The second part, which I hope to write tomorrow (!), will focus on the conceptual issues of complexity, simplicity, and the quest for perfection.
The Law Office of Rick Horowitz provides criminal defense services
in Fresno, Tulare, Kings, Kern, Madera and Merced Counties.