tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-100181142024-03-18T21:24:59.398-07:00California Appellate ReportThoughts on recent Ninth Circuit and California appellate cases from Professor Shaun Martin at the University of San Diego School of Law.Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comBlogger5830125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-68551169497394047152024-03-18T15:00:00.000-07:002024-03-18T21:24:28.303-07:00F.K. v. Superior Court (Cal. Ct. App. - March 18, 2024)<p>I have to give kudos to Justice Baltodano for getting <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/B333788.PDF" target="_blank">this published opinion</a> out in such a timely fashion.</p><p>Mother has an alcohol abuse (and domestic violence) problem, so she gets her two kids -- one of whom is 18 months old -- temporarily taken away from her. There's a review hearing six months later, and in the meantime, Mother does a lot of good stuff; goes to counseling, doesn't miss appointments, has insight into some of her problem, etc. But she's got some bad stuff too; a positive alcohol test, a couple of missed tests (but a negative result the next day), questionable insight on some facets of her problems, etc. (She thinks everyone isn't giving her enough deference to the fact that she drinks in part because her twin sister died, but while I know that's traumatic, her twin sister died <i>when she was two months old</i>, and Mother's a grown ass woman at this point. So I'm not really sure this is a major point in her favor.)</p><p>At the six month review hearing, the trial court mistakenly thinks that because Mother wasn't compliant with all aspects of her treatment, the kid needs to be taken away permanently. That's wrong, and the Court of Appeal's opinion so holds. The statute allows the trial court to extend the thing for another six months, at least when the child is (as here) under three years old. Hence the reversal.</p><p>All that's right. We want to see if Mother can possibly get better. Six months is sometimes enough time to decide, but sometimes it's not. As here. The trial court has discretion, so it needs to exercise it.</p><p>The reason I say that Justice Baltodano (alongside the rest of the panel) deserves kudos is because:</p><p>(1) Trial counsel didn't file an appeal -- even though they're supposed to if there's any arguable issue (which there was here) -- so all that the Court of Appeal had was the Mother's pro se submission. Which I suspect wasn't all that awesome. So Justice Baltodano (and his clerks) had to wade through all that stuff himself. It'd have been easy just to skim through the thing and affirm. Kudos for putting in the effort.</p><p>(2) The Court of Appeal resolved the petition -- and rightly so -- <u>super</u> quickly. The six month review hearing at issue was in December of 2023, a mere three months ago. There's a Section 366.26 hearing (to decides what to do with the child now that she's been removed from Mother) scheduled in the trial court for March 26, 2024 -- i.e., next week. The proceedings in the Court of Appeal get briefed, and argument scheduled, super rapidly, with the oral argument taking place last Wednesday. And, today, the opinion -- a published one, at that. Speedy justice. Kudos again, to the entire team, for the effort.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-65033139540005779612024-03-14T16:49:00.000-07:002024-03-14T16:49:21.913-07:00Wood v. Superior Court (Cal. Ct. App. - March 14, 2024)<p>On a lighter note, I totally do not care if Samantha Wood wants to call herself "Candi Bimbo Doll." She wanted to legally change her name to that, but the trial court refused to grant the name change (despite no opposition) on the ground that calling someone a "bimbo" is derogatory, and <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/A168463.PDF" target="_blank">the Court of Appeal -- with no opposition to Wood's appeal -- reverses</a>. So she gets to legally change her name to Candi Bimbo Doll. Go crazy, girl.</p><p>(Side note: This real-life example somewhat reminds me of the scene in <i>Superbad</i> where the police interview "McLovin" after the liquor store robbery and describe their interaction with someone named "Phuck". Classic. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FcXzJVumvAI" target="_blank">Scroll to the 4 minute mark</a> if you'd like.)</p><p>Justice Richman notes that there's a movement to "take back" the word "bimbo," so if that's one's motivation, okay, great. Maybe not what I'd personally spend all my time on, but if that floats your boat, feel free. We generally let you change your name to whatever you'd like, as long as there's no confusion. Now, there are, in fact, limits to that (e.g., the case that refused to allow someone to change his name to "Misteri
Nigger"), and those limits are, I suspect, a little bit broader than Justice Richman's opinion might suggest. But I agree that "bimbo" isn't really outside those limits, at least in this context.</p><p>But I gotta add that "this context" seems pretty important to me. And that context isn't exactly revealed anywhere in Justice Richman's opinion, beyond the mere fact -- as recounted by the opinion -- that Ms. Wood wants to change her name, says that she's "already known by" that it, says that she has "already embraced it and taken numerous, permanent steps to secure
it," and that she said to the trial judge "I promise I know what I’m requesting."</p><p>What you don't know from reading the opinion -- and I can't find the briefs, so I don't know one way or the other if Justice Richman knows -- is what exactly Ms. Wood means by all that. It doesn't take long to find out that Ms. Wood is more commonly known by her stage name, Juliette Stray. Who's a transsexual adult film performer with, uh, particularly unusual assets.</p><p>There's only so much I can post that's not NSFW, but <a href="https://www.dailystar.co.uk/real-life/plastic-doll-spends-74k-fans-27876020" target="_blank">here's an article from the Daily Star</a> that includes some details about Ms. Wood, alongside some pictures. Feel free to Google more at your leisure, with the caveat that maybe "incognito" mode (and not doing so at work) is the way to go on this one.</p><p>Suffice it to say that Ms. Wood wants to be called a "bimbo" because that's the style she's both known and going for. She's sex-positive in precisely this way. Now, some might find that derogatory, but others might find it empowering. No reason, IMHO, for the law to take a definitive side in that debate.</p><p>So let your freak flag fly, as they say.</p><p>("They," in this case, being the Court of Appeal.)</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-57686029723550996422024-03-14T13:48:00.000-07:002024-03-14T13:48:48.466-07:00People v. Woodward (Cal. Ct. App. - March 14, 2024)<p>As I read the thing, <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/H051311.PDF" target="_blank">I was very conflicted about this opinion</a>, and remain a little bit so. But I must say that the panel did an extremely good job of anticipating the exact things that were going through my mind as I read it. I'm still not sure what the right answer is. But I nonetheless thing the panel did an outstanding job.</p><p>The question is whether John Woodward and be tried yet again for allegedly killing Laurie Houts. Her murder occurred over 30 years ago, in 1992. Woodward was already tried twice for that crime, both times shortly after the murder (e.g., within 4 years). The jury deadlocked both times, and understandably so, because the evidence against Woodward wasn't very strong at all. Ms. Houts was strangled by a rope in her car, and Mr. Woodward's fingerprints were found on the outside of the vehicle, and there were some fibers on the rope that were at least similar to a pair of sweatpants owned by him. But Woodward lived with Ms. Hout's boyfriend, there were no fingerprints on the inside of the car, and there wasn't really a very strong motive for the crime. Which I'm sure is why jurors in both trials were slightly leaning towards an acquittal; 8 to 4 in favor of acquittal the first time, and 7 to 5 in favor of acquittal the second time.</p><p>After the second acquittal, the trial judge dismissed the charges in the interests of justice, which is allowed under California law. The basic reason was simple: there just wasn't enough evidence to convict, which is what the trial judge said in the written (and oral) order. Given the evidence at trial, any future trial would likely come out the same way -- a deadlock (at best). So there was no point in trying him yet a third -- or fourth, or whatever -- time. Charges dismissed.</p><p>Seems reasonable.</p><p>Fast forward nearly two decades. Now there's new DNA technology, and they allegedly find some of Mr. Woodward's DNA on the rope. Exact match. So the Santa Clara District Attorney refiles.</p><p>The problem is the Double Jeopardy Clause. When a judge dismisses a charge based on insufficient evidence, that's jeopardy. You can't refile. And the judge here definitely did so; the minute order was replete with references to the evidence being insufficient.</p><p>So you could see why someone might be torn. On the one hand, it looks like Mr. Woodward might well have killed Ms. Houts, and you don't want someone to get away with cold-blooded murder. On the other hand, there are darn good reasons for the Double Jeopardy Clause, and there's no exception for "Oh, but we have much better evidence now." When you're acquitted, you can't be retried. Even if we know (or at least strongly suspect) that you did it and we could convict you if we were allowed to try you again.</p><p>Here's the rub, though. There's at least an argument that the trial judge wasn't "really" dismissing the charges for insufficient evidence. And when you read the minute order, you can see -- or at least I have an incredibly strong feeling about -- what the trial judge was really doing. The judge wasn't really saying that no rational juror could convict, which is the (true) standard for insufficient evidence. After all, 9 jurors did, in fact, vote to convict -- 4 the first time, and 5 the second time -- and it didn't really seem like the trial judge was saying those people were nutty. </p><p>Instead, to me, what the judge was really saying was that, based on the evidence and the results of the first two trials, there's no way that the result would be different. You weren't going to get a <i>unanimous</i> verdict that convicted the guy. So what's the point? Dismiss the charges.</p><p>Which makes sense. Indeed, it's exactly what I would have done, at the time, in the trial judge's shoes.</p><p>But (1) are we really <i>sure</i> that's what the trial judge meant, particularly given the number of times the minute order invokes the magic words "insufficient evidence," and (2) even if we are, what are the double jeopardy implications of <u>that</u> type of dismissal, which presumably doesn't happen every day?</p><p>Tough questions all around.</p><p>But Justice Danner has an answer, and as I read her opinion, she persuaded me that she's likely right (with the caveat that I haven't fully digested the underlying opinion yet). <a href="https://casetext.com/case/people-v-hatch-3" target="_blank">There's a California Supreme Court case called <i>People v. Hatch</i></a> that seems pretty darn similar to the current case, and that generally makes it somewhat difficult to hold that dismissals in the interests of justice (like this one) -- which are <i>sometimes</i> for insufficient evidence, and hence bar a retrial -- are in fact really for insufficient evidence rather than just amorphously "in the interests of justice" (and thus <u>don't</u> bar a retrial).</p><p>Justice Danner does a great job in that regard. There are differences, to be sure, but it does, in fact, seem like the present case is fairly similar to <i>Hatch</i>. So if a retrial wasn't barred in <i>Hatch</i>, then it's not barred here.</p><p>Fair enough.</p><p>But after reading roughly 30 or so pages of Justice Danner's opinion, the following idea popped into my head. "Okay, that's fine," my head said, "I get that the California Supreme Court apparently thinks that the Double Jeopardy Clause doesn't bar a retrial in these situations. But that's (among other things) a federal constitutional principle. There's always federal habeas later. I wonder if the <i>federal</i> courts are ultimately going to agree with this. Particularly the Ninth Circuit, which isn't exactly equivalent (even these days) to the California Supreme Court in 2000."</p><p>Because I could definitely see -- in fact I'm certain that -- particular Ninth Circuit panels would not view this case the same way that Justice Brown saw it in <i>Hatch</i>.</p><p>Shortly thereafter, one I was finished reading Justice Danner's opinion, boom, up comes Justice Lie's concurrence. In which she makes a similar point to the one that popped into my head, albeit from a slightly different perspective.</p><p>Justice Lie agrees that the case is similar to <i>Hatch</i> and says that, for that reason, she's bound to the result here. But she says -- and she's pretty persuasive on this point -- that federal double jeopardy law has definitely advanced since <i>Hatch</i> was decided in 2000, and in a manner not exactly favorable to <i>Hatch</i>. She says that, as a lower court, she's bound by the California Supreme Court's decision, so she concurs, but "respectfully urge[s] the California Supreme Court to reexamine the
continuing vitality of Hatch’s narrow definition of an acquittal under federal double
jeopardy principles."</p><p>Darn good point.</p><p>But that left me with one final thought.</p><p>It seems to me that neither Justices Danner nor Lie have fully articulated why they come out the way they do. (I'll add that Justice Bromberg joins Justice Danner's opinion -- my, what an incredibly smart panel, by the way.) For this reason:</p><p>Everyone agrees that the relevant double jeopardy rule is governed by federal, not state, law. (It's in the federal Constitution, after all.) Sure, the California Supreme Court said X in <i>Hatch</i>, and this case is very much like X, and as a general matter, lower state courts are bound to follow superior state tribunals.</p><p>But not when there's an intervening decision of an even higher court; in this case, the United States Supreme Court. Particularly on issues, as here, of federal law.</p><p>So, for Justice Danner, my question is why she doesn't dissent, rather than concur, if she thinks -- as she seems to -- that the intervening decisions of <i>Evans</i> and <i>McElrath</i> are inconsistent with <i>Hatch</i>. If that's the case (she says "But for our continuing duty to follow <i>Hatch</i>, I would instead conclude the
section 1385 dismissal here is an acquittal that bars retrial under <i>Evans</i> and <i>McElrath</i>"), then the lower court has the right -- indeed, the duty -- to depart from state precedent and follow the intervening decision of the higher court. So why not dissent? (She further says that "<i>Evans</i> and <i>McElrath</i> 'erode the analytical foundations' of Hatch," which I think is darn similar to <a href="http://calapp.blogspot.com/2023/07/carmona-v-dominos-pizza-9th-cir-july-21.html" target="_blank">a recent analogous Ninth Circuit opinion</a> that refused to follow existing Ninth Circuit precedent in light of an intervening Supreme Court decision that "undercut" that circuit precedent.)</p><p>My question for Justice Danner (and Justice Bromberg) is a similar one. Justice Danner's opinion doesn't even discuss the Supreme Court's intervening decision in <i>Evans</i> or Justice Lie's concurring argument that <i>Evans</i> is inconsistent with <i>Hatch</i>. That seems to me a huge problem, for the reasons identified above. Don't you have to explain why you think the state precedent is consistent with intervening higher court authority? Because otherwise, you've got to follow the latter? Yes, in most cases, it's sufficient to say "We're a lower court, or boss the California Supreme Court has decided X, and we've got X here, so that's what we're doing." But that's not sufficient when, as where, the boss of your boss (the United States Supreme Court) has said Y <u>after</u> your boss said X and Y is arguably -- as argued by your co-worker Justice Lie -- inconsistent with X.</p><p>So it seems to me that both sides have to address this point, albeit from slightly different perspectives. Justice Lie has to explain -- or at least it'd be helpful to explain -- why she follows <i>Hatch</i> instead of <i>Evans</i> if she truly thinks they're inconsistent, and Justice Danner has to explain (or at least it be helpful to explain) why she (probably) thinks <i>Hatch</i> and <i>Evans</i> are consistent.</p><p>Those are my thoughts for the day. </p><p>(Now I gotta get back to trying to figure out why Lufthansa just cancelled my flight to Budapest.)</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-89019833927888095772024-03-12T13:46:00.000-07:002024-03-12T13:46:30.063-07:00In re Seumanu (Cal. Ct. App. - March 11, 2024)<p>I legitimately would like to know the answer to this question:</p><p>Why write a three-judge concurrence?</p><p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/A169146.PDF" target="_blank">Justice Streeter authors a thoughtful 46-page opinion</a> involving complicated details about certificates of appealability in state habeas cases. Then Justice Goldman adds a brief three-page concurrence that suggests helpful ways that the parties can help assemble the record in such cases, with a suggestion that the Judicial Council get involved.</p><p>All great thoughts.</p><p>But everyone joins Justice Streeter's opinion, and everyone joins Justice Goldman's concurrence.</p><p>So why not just issue one opinion with both thoughts? Particularly since everyone agrees?</p><p>Justice Streeter notes at the outset of the opinion that a three judge concurrence is a "rare but not unknown" occurrence. Sure enough. But why take that form at all?</p><p>I understand that concurrences sometimes involve suggested changes or critiques of existing law. But opinions can -- and often do -- contain those same things. Since everyone agrees, why not put them all together?</p><p>The only thing I can think of is that maybe the author of the opinion wants to give credit where credit is due and identify the author of the concurrence as the originator of whatever thoughts are expressed therein. Fair enough, I guess. But opinions are often products of a collaborative enterprise. That's why we have panels, after all. If everyone agrees, why not just get everyone to sign on -- who's listed as the "author" of the thing seems to matter little (to me, anyway).</p><p>Plus, it's perhaps a marginal point, but as a persuasive matter, a suggested change from an "opinion" might be a little more powerful than a suggested change from a "concurrence."</p><p>No big deal either way, I assume. I just wonder why the panel decided against simply plopping Justice Goldman's three pages into Justice Streeter's 46-page missive. Or if there's any special reason of which I'm unaware as to why a three-judge concurrence is the "proper" way to raise these sorts of things.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-58539876065608094202024-03-11T12:43:00.000-07:002024-03-11T12:43:00.422-07:00Kalulu v. Garland (9th Cir. - March 11, 2024)<p>Judge Sanchez authors a dissent that helpfully summarizes both what's at stake as well as his overall position on the matter. He says:</p><p>"Petitioner Milly Kalulu, a native of Zambia, alleges she
was persecuted because she is a lesbian in a country that
criminalizes same-sex relationships. When her relationship
with a woman was discovered by her girlfriend’s brothers,
she was beaten, whipped, injected with an unknown
substance, stabbed in the chest, doused with gasoline, and
threatened with death over several violent encounters.
Kalulu submitted documentary evidence corroborating her
claims, including a copy of her medical report, a declaration
from her aunt in California, and declarations from several
Zambians who witnessed the attacks on her. The agency,
however, dismissed this evidence based on unsupportable or
trivial grounds."</p><p>I might add that Ms. Kalulu came over here with her Zambian girl scout troupe and lived with her aunt, so suspect that she's quite young as well. Oh, and like many women like Zambia, she's HIV-positive, in case you need some additional sympathetic facts.</p><p>Judge Van Dyke nonetheless <a href="https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2024/03/11/21-895.pdf" target="_blank">authors a majority opinion</a> that largely contends that Ms. Kalulu was not a credible witness. The footnotes of his opinion are -- as is sometimes the case -- where things tend to get a bit snippy, or at least directly responsive. For example, from footnote 11:</p><p>"The dissent claims the majority does not “dispute that the vast majority
of the agency’s credibility findings” are not supported by sufficient
evidence. But we do. By the majority’s count, at least five of the
agency’s factual bases for its adverse credibility determination are
supported. Even assuming all the other findings are unsupported, barely
more than one-half of the agency’s findings related to credibility are
unsupported, hardly a “vast majority.” Even by the dissent’s count, fully
one-third of the agency’s findings remain supported. Apparently “vast
majority” too is being affected by inflation."</p><p>Though, somewhat charitably, that same footnote goes on to say that "We don’t point this out to be pedantic or to manufacture disagreement
where our dissenting colleague is admirably trying to find common
ground. Rather, this ungenerous characterization of the majority’s
position relates back to the fundamental problems with the dissent’s
novel ratio test." That said, at least the "inflation" point was, I think, really more about being snarky ("pedantic") than some fundamental doctrinal problem with the dissent's alternative approach.</p><p>Still, it definitely livened things up.</p><p>Speaking of livening things up, I also had to smile a little bit with the deadpan manner in which Judge Van Dyke ended the next footnote, which concludes with:</p><p>"93.2% of statistics give the illusion of
quantitative certainty while providing very little in the way of substance."</p><p>Though, as a writing tip, <a href="https://prowritingaid.com/can-you-start-a-sentence-with-a-number#:~:text=According%20to%20the%20Modern%20Language,sentence%2C%20spell%20out%20the%20number." target="_blank">pretty much everyone says that you shouldn't begin a sentence with a numeral</a>.</p><p>It was nonetheless funny.</p><p><br /></p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-90769905635157135642024-03-06T17:29:00.000-08:002024-03-06T17:29:00.699-08:00VFLA Eventco v. William Morris Endeavor Ent. (Cal. Ct. App. - March 6, 2024)<p>I get it. I really do. Justice Viramontes does an excellent job going through the contract and explaining how the force majeure clause gets applied to a concert festival that was cancelled during COVID. It's a persuasive analysis, and I can't really fault any of the doctrinal things he says.</p><p>So, yep, under American contract law, <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/B323977.PDF" target="_blank">the defendant is entitled to summary judgment</a>. The artist gets to deep the deposit. That's legally right under existing doctrine.</p><p>But imagine that you're just reasoning from first principles. Or perhaps creating your own country (or justice system). What's the just result -- again, I'm asking about justice -- in this hypothetical:</p><p>Organizer wants to put on a music festival. It's willing to pay Lizzo $5 million (!) to show up and sing. Lizzo wants to make sure the money's coming, so asks that it be deposited with her agent, and Organizer agrees. </p><p>Four months later, COVID hits, and Los Angeles prohibits public gatherings, including (obviously) the planned festival. So no concert, and (obviously) no singing or gate receipts.</p><p>Should Lizzo get to keep the $5 million?</p><p>I think not. Someone's going to be stiffed, obviously; either Lizzo or the Organizer. But, in truth, Lizzo has lost nothing, whereas the Organizer's lost tons. Lizzo loses out on her $5 million payday, but that's because of COVID. Sorry about that, but at least she's not out of pocket. Nor, in truth, has she really lost any opportunities either, because, yeah, she (at least hypothetically) could have sung at a different concert if she hadn't committed to the festival, but that one would have been cancelled too.</p><p>Whereas Organizer is definitely out real money. It presumably had to pay for tons of stuff in advance. To stiff it for another $5 million seems entirely unwarranted. Particularly when it's otherwise going to someone who only lost an "opportunity" for an absurdly high payday.</p><p>The Court of Appeal nonetheless lets Lizzo keep the money. On the theory that parties get to allocate the risk of loss however they want, and here, the best interpretation of a far-from-entirely-clear force majeure clause is that Lizzo gets to keep the thing.</p><p>Sure enough.</p><p>But not entirely just, either.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-39747852830454662972024-03-05T13:12:00.000-08:002024-03-05T13:12:55.375-08:00Reiman v. Vasquez (9th Cir. - March 5, 2024)I typically talk about opinions in which I think the appellate court was (at least partially) wrong, on the theory that it's not all that useful for me to just mimic what the opinion already says. No need for an echo chamber. (Though contemporary media viewing preferences might suggest a different reality.)<div><br /></div><div>I'm nonetheless going to make an exception this time, because I would have been seriously disappointed if Judge Milan Smith had come out the other way in this one.</div><div><br /><a href="https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2024/03/05/22-56054.pdf" target="_blank">The Ninth Circuit holds</a> that when a social worker (allegedly) deliberately lies to a court in an effort to take two kids away from their parents for a couple of months, that's not something to which immunity -- either absolute or qualified -- applies.</div><div><br /></div><div>Spot on right.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe there were other things going on here that aren't reflected in the opinion. But at least facially, what transpired here is chilling. A kid falls out of bed and then seriously overaggressive social workers take the kids away from the family without notice, in part by falsely telling the court that the parents were not available for the hearing -- even though the parents were repeatedly calling the social workers to try to get in touch (with the social workers refusing to take the calls or get back to them).</div><div><br /></div><div>You could see that happening to anyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>If what's in the opinion is true, I'd definitely be giving the parents some money were I one of the jurors.</div>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-25834447632561139102024-03-04T16:05:00.000-08:002024-03-04T16:05:22.974-08:00People v. Hardin (Cal. Supreme Ct. - March 4, 2024)<a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/S277487.PDF" target="_blank">Here's proof that we live in California</a>.<div><br /></div><div>Background: When the Supreme Court decided that the death -- and, later, life without parole (LWOP) -- sentences weren't okay for juveniles, California passed a statute that allowed eventual parole hearings for people who committed their crimes when they were under 18. (The California Supreme Court also added impetus to this effort, since it held that determinate sentences that effectively kept juveniles in prison for their entire lives -- e.g., sentences of 300 years -- were also impermissible.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Thereafter, since we're a left-leaning jurisdiction, the Legislature gradually ratcheted up the relevant age cutoff; first to 23, then to 26, in recognition that frontal cortexes don't suddenly become fully functional at the ripe old age of 18. So, now, if you committed your offense at age 25 or younger, you're entitled to at least a shot at parole, albeit maybe only after a quarter century or so in prison. Still, you get an eventual attempt.</div><div><br /></div><div>With one important caveat.</div><div><br /></div><div>If you were under 18 at the time of your crime, the Supreme Court already said that LWOP sentences aren't okay for you. And if you were under 26 and <i>didn't</i> receive an LWOP sentence, then, great, you still have a shot.</div><div><br /></div><div>But if you were between 18 and 25 when you committed your crime and got sentenced to LWOP, tough for you. No parole hearing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Petitioner here received an LWOP sentence for a murder he committed when he was 25. He says that it violates equal protection to give every other youthful offender, but not people like him (i.e., people sentenced to LWOP for crimes between their 18th and 26th birthdays), the ability to receive a parole hearing. </div><div><br /></div><div>The California Supreme Court rejects this claim, and, applying rational basis review, holds that it isn't unconstitutional to do what the Legislature has done. Even though people like Mr. Hardin may not have their frontal lobes fully developed at the time of their crime, the Legislature might rationally have felt that certain serious crimes (e.g., those for which the offender received an LWOP sentence -- generally, first-degree murder with special circumstances) should still be punished with life in prison even though the offender's brain wasn't fully developed.</div><div><br /></div><div>In so holding, I suspect that California is not different from the overwhelming majority of -- or perhaps all -- other state supreme courts. I'd be surprised if other state supreme courts would readily go the other way and find the underlying distinction unconstitutional. Indeed, in most states (say, Alabama), I'm very confident that the state supreme court would literally laugh out loud at the mere mention of any such claim.</div><div><br /></div><div>So in that way, California is, I suspect, no outlier.</div><div><br /></div><div>But here's where we're different.</div><div><br /></div><div>First, there's a dissent. One by Justice Liu, and one by Justice Evans. They think it's unconstitutional for a state to recognize that juvenile offenders have undeveloped brains and hence can potentially change and be amenable to rehabilitation and yet categorically exclude certain youthful offenders (e.g., LWOP offenders) from possible parole. Plus, both of them -- particularly Justice Evans -- note that there are underlying racial implications of this rule that both highlight its adverse consequences as well as maybe enhance the type of rational basis scrutiny that is otherwise employed in evaluating these principles.</div><div><br /></div><div>That's different than most other states. You wouldn't see anything like that in most other state supreme courts. Particularly those in which state supreme court justices are directly elected (e.g., Texas, where such judges get elected in <i>partisan</i> elections.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Second, even the majority is overtly sympathetic to Mr. Hardin's claim. You wouldn't see that in virtually any other state. Justice Kruger's opinion repeatedly mentions that the Court of Appeal has often encouraged the Legislature to revisit this issue and to think about providing potential parole hearings for <u>all</u> youthful offenders. Her majority opinion just says that this is a legislative issue, rather than an appropriate task for the courts. (The dissents obviously disagree.)</div><div><br /></div><div>You can read the entire 118 pages (!) if you want. Both sides do a great job articulating their positions. Plus, it's the contemporary California Supreme Court, in which you get to view a lot of high-pitched dissents these days. So something relatively unusual. (Even then, it's nothing like the U.S. Supreme Court; here, both sides are incredibly respectful to the other's position, notwithstanding their competing views.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll just say one other thing. Justices Liu and Evans make a strong argument in favor of providing at least the possibility of parole for youthful offenders, but honestly, I think that the true fight here is over LWOP sentences themselves. Justices Liu and Evans are surely correct when they say that people who commit even horrible crimes at age 25 may potentially change after, say, a quarter century in prison and thus at least possibly be worthy of a life outside of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>But what's true for a 25 year old is also true for someone who commits that same offense at age 26. People can change. Yes, people at 18 (or 25) are perhaps more capable of changing than people at 26 (or even 40), as their brains develop and otherwise. But there's no categorical distinction. Some people are who they are at 20, and never change, whereas others are capable of even profound change at a much later stage in life.</div><div><br /></div><div>Line-drawing is, of course, inherently arbitrary, and it seems absurd to say that someone who commits a murder the day before their 18th birthday should always get a parole hearing 25 years later (regardless of the severity of the crime) but that they should never receive one if they commit that same offense one day later. The true distinction here isn't really about the level of brain development. It's instead really a fight about whether people deserve at least a potential chance at proving that they're a different person now than the one who committed prior crime.</div><div><br /></div><div>For some, the answer is a resounding "No" -- that some crimes are so heinous and reflect a certain type of character that no rehabilitation or chance at redemption is either possible or appropriate. Others take a contrary view.</div><div><br /></div><div>(Here's the <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=shawshank+parole+hearing&rlz=1C1GCEA_enUS976US976&oq=shawshank+parole+hearing&gs_lcrp=EgZjaHJvbWUyBggAEEUYOTIICAEQABgWGB4yCAgCEAAYFhgeMg0IAxAAGIYDGIAEGIoFMg0IBBAAGIYDGIAEGIoFMg0IBRAAGIYDGIAEGIoF0gEIMzIwMWowajeoAgCwAgA&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8#fpstate=ive&vld=cid:64c18d5c,vid:Di7vbNJwzZQ,st:0" target="_blank">best 90-second articulation</a>, IMHO, of the latter. Courtesy of Morgan Freeman. Start it at the 30 second mark.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Regardless, today's opinion is uniquely Californian, I think. For better or worse.</div>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-5754577378407128262024-02-29T16:37:00.000-08:002024-02-29T16:37:54.443-08:00Berlanga v. USF (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 29, 2024)<p>Sorry, USF students. You're not getting a partial refund for the fact that "college" was online during COVID. You lost your class action, and <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/A165976.PDF" target="_blank">the Court of Appeal affirmed</a>.</p><p>You could perhaps see why the generalized statements that USF made here didn't effectively promise that college would be in person.</p><p>Though if USF was nice, it might have given a little bit of a voluntary tuition rebate.</p><p>Because online college, respectfully, was very -- very -- much not the same as being there in person.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-55613233712609874892024-02-28T13:55:00.000-08:002024-02-28T13:55:05.835-08:00People v. Hollywood (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 28, 2024)<p>Justice Yegan begins <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/B323018.PDF" target="_blank">this afternoon's opinion</a> in a fairly dramatic fashion, saying:</p><p>"“The fabric of the law will stretch only so far before it will
unravel.” (People v. Martin (2018) 26 Cal.App.5th 825, 828.)
Appellant seeks to stretch the newly enacted reduced murder
penalties to his case. It just will not stretch and the fabric
unravels. Leniency for a person who orders his cohorts to murder
a 15-year-old child with a machine gun? The child is dead and
our answer is, no."</p><p>One reason he might write in such a style is due to the nature of the crime, as it's not surprising that the cold-blooded murder of a teenager might get one's blood boiling. Another reason may perhaps be because it's a high profile case, and involves a petition filed by Jesse James Hollywood and the underlying murder subsequently made into the film <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alpha_Dog" target="_blank">Alpha Dog</a>. So maybe Justice Yegan thinks -- entirely accurately -- that this opinion will be read (or quoted) more than the run-of-the-mill appellate opinion, so wants to add some spice.</p><p>It's not my cup of tea, honestly. Yeah, it's a brutal crime, and we're rightly horrified by it. But I'm fairly confident that the whole "Rule of Law" thing -- a not insignificant principle -- means that you follow the rule of law regardless of your emotional reaction to the underlying offense. So starting off an opinion by saying that you're not going to be "lenient" because a child is dead is not really how I'd frame the legal analysis of a case by the Court of Appeal. It sends a message of retribution rather than a dispassionate application of legal principles.</p><p>It's not that Justice Yegan doesn't have a point. He is confident -- from the movie or otherwise -- that the petitioner here doesn't deserve relief under the Legislature's newly-enacted resentencing provisions. And I'm pretty darn confident that he's right (though I haven't seen the movie or read the underlying opinions). It seems like Mr. Hollywood did, in fact, have an intent to kill, which, if true, negates relief under the statute.</p><p>Here's the problem, though: Mr. Hollywood says that he didn't have that intent, and files a petition that so avers.</p><p>That's probably untrue. We have a way of finding those things out: under the resentencing scheme, it's called an "evidentiary hearing." The issue on appeal is whether he's entitled to one.</p><p>Justice Yegan says that Mr. Hollywood's a liar, and we already know the truth, so we don't have to provide him with a hearing. In another colloquial passage at the end of the opinion, he says: "Checking a box on a printed form saying the petitioner
could not presently be convicted of murder, given the record of
conviction, is ridiculous."</p><p>Okay. I bet that's true. I bet the affirmation on the petition is wrong. Because, among other things, the trial judge below was the one who decided the petition for resentencing, and I'm confident that he very distinctly recalls the facts of this extraordinarily high profile case.</p><p>Nonetheless, to me, this smacks of "We all know you're guilty, so let's just dispense with the trial." We have procedures for things like this. At stage one, the petitioner says he's eligible for relief. At this stage the only thing we look at is the record of conviction to see if it categorically precludes relief. We don't engage in factfinding. That's for stage two. Kinda the same way we have an indictment and then let the case go to trial if the indictment is sufficient. We don't skip that second part just because the evidence of the crime is overwhelming.</p><p>Justice Cody makes some of these points -- more subtly -- in her concurrence. She says, seemingly accurately, that the petition here can be denied in a straightforward fashion, because the record of conviction for aiding and abetting murder requires an intent to kill. Which makes even more unnecessary than usual the holding here that trial judges are allowed to engage in factfinding at the initial petition stage, since you can achieve the same result without recourse to a "special exception" involving dead teenagers in high-profile cases.</p><p>It's quite possible I'm old fashioned here. I'm not a big "bloodlust" type, particularly in the Court of Appeal. I'm quite fine with Mr. Hollywood's resentencing petition being denied. But I'm also entirely okay with giving him a hearing if one's required, regardless of his underling offense. That, to me, is what it means to be committed to the rule of law.</p><p>Which, again, is No Small Thing.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-9542881538923903832024-02-27T13:21:00.000-08:002024-02-27T13:21:36.233-08:00People v. Pittman (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 27, 2024)<p>The opinion in this case is about restitution, and seems right, but that's not what caught my eye. Rather, it's <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/A166669.PDF" target="_blank">something very briefly mentioned in the opinion</a> -- something easily overlooked but which I thought was both fairly rare and merits at least brief reference.</p><p>The underlying offense was the daytime burglary of a home in San Francisco. The burglars stole some cash and jewelry and basically anything else they could find of value.</p><p>There was video footage -- probably from a Ring camera. That's pretty damning. Hat tip: Probably wear a mask or something if you're going to burglarize a home with a camera.</p><p>Hat tip #2: Don't commit a burglary when you're on parole, like one of the burglars here. Extra time added to your sentence, etc.</p><p>Final hat tip. The one that really piqued my interest. Don't commit a burglary when you're on parole <u>and wearing a GPS ankle monitor that proves you were at the burgled residence at the time of the burglary</u>.</p><p>I mean, come on. You've got an ankle monitor, dude. Try not to commit crimes while wearing the thing.</p><p>That's just common sense.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-91403812161921336562024-02-26T16:06:00.000-08:002024-02-26T16:06:24.980-08:00TriCoast Builders v. Fonnegra (Cal. Supreme Ct. - Feb. 26, 2024)<p>It's only $150. Go ahead and post jury fees yourself. Even if the other side's already requested a jury.</p><p>Yes, it's nonrefundable. But, in the scheme of things, it's a pittance.</p><p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/S273368.PDF" target="_blank">Otherwise, this might well happen to you too</a>.</p><p>Nothing stops the other side -- the side that demanded a jury and posting the fees -- from withdrawing that demand on the first day of trial. If that happens, you've prepped for months for a jury trial, but at the last moment, you have to retool everything for a bench trial. Exhibits, opening statements, etc. Plus, you've already waived your own right to a jury trial by not posting fees, so you no longer have that right.</p><p>Sure, you can ask for a discretionary waiver from the trial court. But don't be surprised if, as here, the trial court denies your request. Bench trials are so much easier. Plus, then the trial judge gets to make sure that the case comes out the way s/he wants.</p><p>One more thing. If, perchance, the trial court denies your request for a discretionary waiver, file a writ. Do not, under any circumstances, do what the party did here, which was to elect against filing a writ, wait to see if they win at the bench trial anyway, and if they lose, then file an appeal asserting an erroneous denial of your request for a discretionary waiver.</p><p>The California Supreme Court holds that, at that point, you've got to affirmatively show prejudice -- i.e., that the result would have been different if the case was resolved by a jury instead of a judge. A showing that is, quite literally, impossible.</p><p>So, to reiterate:</p><p>Spend the $150.</p><p>I'll potentially save you a world of hurt.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-26234655180464823882024-02-22T13:20:00.000-08:002024-02-22T13:20:19.271-08:00City of Lancaster v. Netflix (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 22, 2024)<p>I'm most assuredly not in a position to disagree with Justice Lavin in this one, as literally everything I know about the "Digital Infrastructure and Video Competition Act
of 2006 (Pub. Util. Code, § 5810 et seq.)" is <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/B321481.PDF" target="_blank">contained in today's opinion</a>. Moreover, everything that he said in his opinion sounded entirely plausible, so I can't really say with any confidence that individual cities should have the ability to sue video providers for not getting a state franchise and paying the applicable fees. (The Court of Appeal holds they can't.)</p><p>The one thing I can say, however, is that it seems to me like the state Public Utilities Commission should darn sure take a position on this stuff. If cable companies have to pay for using public right of ways for their transmission stuff (e.g., their cables), then it only makes sense (to me) that streaming services like Netflix and the like should have to pay as well. It sounds to me -- again, knowing virtually nothing -- like the streaming services don't pay but cable companies do, despite the fact that both of them use fiber optic cables (or non-fiber optic cables) running under our streets, etc. Doesn't seem fair or equitable. If both use public resources, both should pay.</p><p>So it's entirely possible that the Court of Appeal is correct that the statute only says that cities can sue if a franchisee doesn't pay, whereas here, Netflix isn't a franchisee in the first place, so can't be sued even if it doesn't pay.</p><p>But the PUC can definitely sue. And if the facts are as they appear to be in the opinion, I'm seriously wondering why the PUC hasn't.</p><p>But, again, it's entirely possible I'm missing something here.</p><p>Which, on rare occasion, happens. </p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-17063639125063910952024-02-21T13:17:00.000-08:002024-02-21T13:17:32.684-08:00People v. Garcia (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 21, 2024)<p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/D081713.PDF" target="_blank">It just gets worse and worse as you wade through this opinion</a>:</p><p>"In July 2021, Garcia sent threatening text messages to a Child Welfare
Services worker. Garcia threatened to abduct the worker, “cement” her, and
“toss” her into a river for abducting and abusing Garcia’s children. In People
v. Garcia, No. SCN426026, the San Diego County District Attorney charged
Garcia with one count of making threats to a public officer (§ 71); and two
counts of disobeying a court order (§ 273.6)."</p><p>Okay, not wise to send those text messages. I know you're upset. Few people are super thrilled to have child welfare officials intrude into their parenting. Still. No threatening messages, okay?</p><p>"In August 2021, Garcia brought a large kitchen knife into juvenile
court. Video surveillance showed that she had the weapon in her waistband
when she walked into a courthouse restroom. The knife was later recovered
from the restroom. In People v. Garcia, No. SCD291317, the San Diego
County District Attorney charged Garcia with possessing a weapon in a
courthouse (§ 171b, subd. (a))."</p><p>Yikes. That's quite a bit of escalation, no? Plus, I gotta ask, <i>how did the knife get through the metal detector</i>? Inquiring minds definitely want to know.</p><p>Still. Don't bring weapons into court. An even worse idea than the threatening text messages.</p><p>"In June 2022, Garcia “stabbed a woman several times in the back, head
and neck.” The attack resulted in “several lacerations to the victim” and required “staples and sutures to close” the wounds. In People v. Garcia, No.
CD294930, the San Diego County District Attorney charged Garcia with
attempted murder (§§ 664, 187, subd. (a)) and assault with a deadly weapon
(§ 245, subd. (a)(1)). The felony complaint further alleged that Garcia
personally used a deadly and dangerous weapon under section 12022,
subdivision (b)(1) and personally inflicted great bodily injury under section
12022.7, subdivision (a)."</p><p>Now we're really off the deep end. No probation this time. This is attempted murder. You can't get much more of a serious charge than that.</p><p>Ms. Garcia is ultimately found incompetent to stand trial, and reading the opinion, you can see why. There's a serious mental health problem ("unspecified schizophrenia
spectrum and other psychotic disorder"). Which is something that I'm quite confident is not improved in the slightest by the use of recreational drugs (e.g., the reference to "stimulant use disorder" in the opinion).</p><p>I'm not confident that Ms. Garcia will get much better in the state's mental health facility. But I don't think she'll get much worse, either.</p><p>Life outside was not going well for anyone. Not Ms. Garcia, and definitely not the people around her.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-17307397722223917692024-02-20T16:44:00.000-08:002024-02-20T16:44:00.134-08:00Valley Hosp. Med. Center v. NLRB (9th Cir. - Feb. 2024)<p><a href="https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2024/02/20/22-1804.pdf" target="_blank">Judge O'Scannlain's concurrence here has a point</a>. Both about the NLRB's flip-flopping in general as new administrations enter office -- and thus reshape the Board to correspond to their political preferences -- as well as with respect to the potential import of that practical reality on Chevron and general administrative deference.</p><p>Worthy of a read.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-71062413413487746802024-02-20T14:44:00.000-08:002024-02-20T14:44:07.292-08:00People v. Rouston (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 20, 2024)<p>Putting police officers on the stand in criminal cases as "experts" is always a touchy issue. They constantly give testimony that goes to an ultimate issue. For example, in gang enhancement cases, the prosecutor always gives the officer a "hypothetical" with the facts of the actual case in front of the jury and asks the officer if, on those facts, the conduct of the defendant was for the benefit of the gang --to which the officer always responds "Yes". The Court of Appeal is pretty much fine with that.</p><p>At the same time, we don't allow officers to tell the jury that, in their opinion, the defendant is guilty given the evidence against him. That's too much. Everyone knows that too. (Though, as everyone knows, the line between permissible and "impermissible" testimony in this regard is definitely a fine one.)</p><p>The Court of Appeal concludes that the officer's testimony in this case (out of San Diego) is more in the second bucket than the first, <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/D080114.PDF" target="_blank">so reverses the conviction and remands for a new trial</a>. Which makes sense. Can an officer, as an "expert", testify on "expert" things that a jury wouldn't (allegedly) know; e.g., the nature of a gang? Sure. But what s/he <u>can't</u> do is give "expert" testimony outside of their alleged expertise.</p><p>So, here, when the police officer testifies that the defendant -- rather than the other guy in the car -- was the actual shooter, based on the testimony of another witness, that's not expert testimony. The jury could hear that other witness. The officer isn't an expert on who shot who. It invades the province of the jury (or, to put it another way, it's way too influential) for an officer to testify to this ultimate fact based upon his own view when that view is no better (or worse) than the jury's.</p><p>Do police officers know a lot? Sure. But they're not "experts" on crime generally.</p><p>And when the trial judge let's 'em testify too broadly, as here, we gotta throw out the conviction and do the whole thing all over again.</p><p>Unfortunately.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-76924866536211105602024-02-16T15:35:00.000-08:002024-02-16T15:35:37.222-08:00People v. Yeager-Reiman (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 16, 2024)<p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/B331175.PDF" target="_blank">I think I've discovered the next crime I'll commit</a>.</p><p>"On April 2, 2018, the California Department of Justice filed
a felony complaint charging defendant and others with
conspiracy to commit grand theft, identity theft, forgery, making
a false and fraudulent claim, and preparing false evidence (§ 182,
subd. (a)) (count 1); grand theft of personal property (§ 487, subd.
(a)) (count 2); and making false and fraudulent claims (§ 550,
subd. (a)(5)) (count 5).</p><p>The complaint alleged that in 2011 and 2012, Amit
Marshall, the owner, president, and director of the Alliance
School of Trucking (Alliance) obtained approval from the
California State Approving Agency for Veterans Education for
Alliance to provide non-college degree trucking programs to
veterans eligible for benefits under the “Post-9/11 GI Bill” (38
U.S.C., Pt. III, Ch. 33). That approval authorized Alliance to
receive tuition and other payments from the VA. Marshall and Alliance director Robert Waggoner falsely certified to the VA that
they would truthfully report veteran students’ enrollment status
and attendance records and maintain current knowledge of VA
rules and benefits.</p><p>Between October 1, 2011, and April 22, 2015, Marshall,
Waggoner, and Alliance employee Aaron Solomona recruited and
caused others to recruit eligible veterans to enroll in the
approved Alliance trucking programs. Solomona told prospective
students that together they could defraud the VA—students
would not have to attend classes, but Alliance would report to the
VA that they did, and each student would receive between $2,000
and $3,000 per month in benefits. . . .</p><p>Between September 1, 2011, and April 22, 2015, Marshall,
Waggoner, Solomona, and Sandor Greene created and caused to
be created fraudulent student files for the purported students
that contained false attendance records, false grades, and false
certificates of completion. Through the completion of a VA form,
Marshall and Waggoner falsely and fraudulently certified that
defendant and/or other veteran students had attended classes at
Alliance.</p><p>Between December 8, 2011, and April 22, 2015, as a direct
result of their fraudulent scheme, Marshall, Waggoner,
Solomona, Greene, and Ivanova Jimenez caused the VA to pay Alliance approximately $2,351,658.19 in tuition and fees and
approximately $1,957,715.89 in education benefits to veteran
students, including defendant, who fraudulently claimed to have
attended Alliance trucking programs."</p><p>That's a lot of money, no? Seems like a pretty good scam. The school gets millions, the "students" get paid -- both by the feds and the school -- and everyone walks away happy. (Sure, no one actually knows how to drive a truck, but no biggie; they've got the cash.)</p><p>Defendant's an alleged participant in this scam, ultimately pleads guilty, and gets sentenced to . . . </p><p>Two days of probation.</p><p>With reduction to a misdemeanor if he doesn't do anything wrong for a while thereafter.</p><p>Sounds like a pretty good deal for everyone involved. Even if caught.</p><p>(Except for taxpayers, of course.)</p><p>I'm confident the ringleaders got longer sentences, but still. Not really a huge deterrent to participate in these scams if all you're getting -- if you're even caught -- is two days of probation.</p><p>Though I'm sure he's a nice guy. </p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-58962602286568901672024-02-14T13:12:00.000-08:002024-02-14T13:12:35.578-08:00People v. Paul (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 14, 2024)<p>Absent the invention of a time machine, there's no way to prove or disprove the following hypothesis. I'd nonetheless bet a fair amount of money that five or ten years ago, <a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/B320488.PDF" target="_blank">this case would have come out the other way</a>.</p><p>You could easily see how an opinion could be written to say that Mr. Paul wasn't detained at all when the officers first approached him. Something like this:</p><p>"The officers approached Mr. Paul's stopped vehicle on foot. They didn't draw their weapons. They didn't block his vehicle from departing, either with their police cruiser or with their bodies. They engaged him in polite conversation, just like anyone else. They never told him he wasn't free to leave. Sure, they shone their flashlights on him, but that was understandable, since it was 9:00 p.m. and dark. No reasonable person could have believed that they were not free to leave the voluntary conversation with the officers. As a result, there was no detention at all, and hence no illegal search."</p><p>What I think has relatively recently changed, however, is a more robust understanding of police/civilian interactions, particularly in poorer, minority communities. I doubt that even I would feel entirely free to leave if the police pulled up to my vehicle, shined their lights on me, and started talking to me. But one's willingness to fire up your car and suddenly pull away as the police approach might be even lower if, say, you're a young black man with dreadlocks in South LA. Amongst other things, that's potentially a pretty good way to get yourself shot.</p><p>(Today's opinion doesn't say where the incident here occurred, and the briefs aren't online, but I will note that there's a "Jeremiah Paul" in Compton -- as well as another one who works in East L.A. -- and the defendant apparently had dreadlocks and the incident was in an area "patrolled regularly" by the cops and in which the officer's usual practice was to ask anyone if they were on probation or parole. So there's at least a chance that the dynamics of the encounter might not have been exactly like, say, Elon Musk being pulled over on Rodeo Drive.)</p><p>I think that some of this might have influenced how the Court of Appeal comes out here. Here's how Justice Moor ultimately comes out -- a fair piece different than my hypothetical opinion a decade ago:</p><p>Considering the totality of the circumstances, we conclude
that the initial encounter with the officers was an unlawful
detention and that the trial court’s order must be reversed. Several factors lead us to this conclusion. First, although Officer Kumlander did not park the patrol car in a manner that
prevented Paul from driving away, the officers’ subsequent
positioning of their bodies blocked Paul from either driving away
or departing on foot. By Officer Kumlander’s own testimony, he
was at most between two to three feet away from the Prius’s
driver’s side door. Paul testified that the officer was inches away
and that he could not open the door without hitting the officer.
The video shows that, even if Officer Kumlander was standing a
few feet away from the Prius initially, he was holding his
flashlight only inches away from the driver’s side window and
had to move back to permit the door to open even slightly. Paul
could not have exited the vehicle with Officer Kumlander
standing there, nor could Paul have pulled the Prius out and
driven away without either engaging or endangering Officer
Kumlander. An objective person would not believe that he or she
was free to simply start driving away with Officer Kumlander
standing in the roadway. Moreover, the presence of Officer
Helmkamp on the passenger side of the vehicle prevented Paul
from sliding across the seat and exiting on foot without engaging
Officer Helmkamp.</p><p>Second, Officer Kumlander and Officer Helmkamp exited
their vehicle, approached the Prius from both sides, and shined
their flashlights into the Prius from close range, right at the car
door windows. This was a display of authority that would lead an
objective person to believe that he or she was suspected of
wrongdoing, both because more than one officer approached and
because the officers shined their flashlights on Paul from opposite
angles, effectively illuminating him on all sides. . . . If the officers wished to signal that
Paul was free to go, the officers could have approached the Prius
from the same side of the vehicle and engaged Paul in casual
conversation. The officers instead flanked the Prius and
approached from both sides while shining their flashlights into
the vehicle. The officers’ approach is exactly the kind of
coordinated action that an objective person would expect to
witness when being detained. A reasonable person would
conclude that when two officers approach in this manner,
surrounding the individual in the vehicle, he or she is not free to
leave.</p><p>Third, the officers approached Paul while he was talking on
his phone inside a legally parked vehicle with the windows rolled
up. Paul could not reasonably decline to interact with the officers
without suspending or ending his phone conversation and at least
engaging in a brief conversation with them. The circumstances
would lead an objectively reasonable person believe that the
officers required their attention and that they could not simply
depart. . . .</p><p>Finally, although the dialogue between Paul and Officer
Kumlander appears to have been non-confrontational in tone and
language up to the point when Paul stated that he was a parolee,
this is not strong evidence to conclude that a reasonable person
would have felt at liberty to terminate the encounter with the
officer. . . . Ostensibly, Officer
Kumlander would interact in a polite, professional manner with a
detainee who was responding in a polite manner, as Paul was in
this case. If the officer’s tone and words had been aggressive, it
would be an additional reason for a reasonable person to believe
that he or she was being detained. The converse is not
necessarily true, however—the officer’s courteous manner of
speaking did not overcome the impression that he intended to
detain Paul, which he and his partner conveyed through their
actions. Moreover, if Officer Kumlander did not intend to detain
Paul, he could have stated that Paul was free to leave at the
outset of the conversation.</p><p>In light of all of the circumstances, we cannot conclude that
the interaction between Paul and the officers was consensual."</p><p>I'm confident that there are many appellate judges (both state and federal), in California and elsewhere, who would have found these interactions entirely consensual, even today.</p><p>But I also think there's an increasing number who would agree with Justice Moor. Including but not limited to, obviously, the other two members of the panel here, since the opinion is unanimous.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-64276999495388674042024-02-13T13:31:00.000-08:002024-02-13T13:31:47.595-08:00People v. Kimble (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 9, 2024)<p>It's a slow "news" (opinion) day today, with only a single (clearly right) published opinion from the Ninth Circuit and nothing yet from the California appellate courts, so I thought I'd go back and briefly mention this opinion from last week. If only because it's unusual. Typically, when the Attorney General makes a concession in a criminal case, it's accepted by the Court of Appeal, and thought well-founded.</p><p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/C097389A.PDF" target="_blank">Not so here</a>.</p><p>In 2008, Kelly Kimble gets a three strikes sentence of 25 to life, plus one year for an enhancement. In 2022, he attempts to be resentenced, but the trial court only shaves off the extra enhancement year, so he appeals. The Attorney General's office opposes the appeal, and in July of 2023, the Court of Appeal agrees with the Attorney General and affirms.</p><p>Usually, that'd be the end of the story.</p><p>But, here, two weeks later, the Attorney General files a petition for rehearing, saying "that his position had changed, and that he now conceded
defendant was entitled to application of the Reform Act’s revised penalties at his 2022
resentencing." That's a big win for the defendant, right?</p><p>Not so much. The Court of Appeal is not persuaded. It says that "[t]he Attorney General did not explain the basis for his change in position,
cite to any recent authority that might have triggered the sudden reversal, or point out any
errors of law or fact in our opinion." So the Court of Appeal tells the AG to pound sand, and refuses to change its opinion.</p><p>End of story, right?</p><p>Nope.</p><p>Then the California Supreme Court gets involved.</p><p>After the Court of Appeal refuses to rehear the case or change its opinion, in October of 2023, the California Supreme Court grants review and transfers the case back to the Court of Appeal with instructions to "reconsider the cause in light
of the Attorney General’s concession that defendant was entitled to resentencing under
the revised penalty provisions of the Three Strikes Reform Act. (Cal. Rules of Court,
rule 8.528(d).)”</p><p>Defendant then submits briefs saying that he's entitled to resentencing (and noting the AG's previous concession), and the Attorney General's office doesn't submit an opposition.</p><p>Okay. Handwriting on the wall, right? Certainly, at this point, the Court of Appeal will relent and go the way that pretty much everyone -- even the California Supreme Court -- apparently seems to think is the correct resolution, right?</p><p>Nope. Not even then.</p><p>Here's how Justice Krause summarizes the Court of Appeal's current take:</p><p>"Having carefully reconsidered the matter, we again decline to accept the Attorney
General’s bare concession. As a general rule, we are not bound by concessions made by
the People in a criminal case. (People v. Alvarado (1982) 133 Cal.App.3d 1003, 1021.)
And here, we are not inclined to give the Attorney General’s concession significant
deference, as the issue before us turns on a question of statutory interpretation, such that
the analysis is not invalidated simply by a change in party position.</p><p>It also is worth highlighting that while the Supreme Court’s basis for granting
review appears to be the Attorney General’s concession, he has declined to take any
position after transfer. Defendant, however, advances new arguments in his supplemental
brief following the Supreme Court’s transfer order. We will address these contentions,
and explain why the judgment is properly affirmed."</p><p>There you have it.</p><p>Which is basically the Court of Appeal saying: "Hey, we still think we're right, and we don't care what anyone else seems to think. At this point, it's your move, Cal Supremes. If you think we're wrong, fix it yourself. We're sticking with what we said."</p><p>Now we just wait and see if the California Supreme Court feels like fixing the alleged problem itself.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-54813466326854557842024-02-12T12:01:00.000-08:002024-02-12T12:01:25.117-08:00Johnson v. Lowe's Home Centers (9th Cir. - Feb.12, 2024)<p>The Ninth Circuit holds -- fairly predictably -- that the California Supreme Court did just fine when it held that individual PAGA claims may be required to go to arbitration but the non-individual PAGA claims can stay in court. So for that issue, absent anything new (like the Supreme Court stepping in and saying that its earlier dicta about the scope of state law in <i>Viking River Cruises</i> was correct), we pretty much know at this point how these things will go in both federal and state court.</p><p><a href="https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2024/02/12/22-16486.pdf" target="_blank">Judge Lee adds a concurrence</a> that has little to do with the substance of the court's holding but that he nonetheless feels is important to add just so employers don't potentially get stuck with issue preclusion from the outcome of the arbitration proceedings. He says that, in his view, even if the employer loses in arbitration, there shouldn't be issue preclusion on the PAGA claims that remain in court because the tiny amount of money at stake in the individual arbitration claim means that there's no "adequate opportunity or incentive to litigate" in arbitration. Meaning that the employer should get two bites at the apple: one in the arbitration proceeding, and another one in court.</p><p>I could say a lot about the opportunity/incentive aspect of res judicata, but my facial reaction can be summed up fairly quickly. To me, it's one thing to say that there's no incentive to litigate when a party is sued for a tiny amount (say, $500) and potentially faces issue preclusion in a much bigger suit as a result. There's nothing the defendant can do about that, since it was the plaintiffs who split up the lawsuits and raised the possibility of such issue preclusive effects.</p><p>It's quite another, it seems to me, when <u>the defendant</u> is the one who put himself in this position; i.e., when it was the defendant himself who (1) elected to create an arbitration provision, (2) decided that this would cover PAGA claims that he knew couldn't be arbitrated, and (3) elected to insist upon arbitration anyway once the lawsuit was filed -- typically over plaintiff's objection. If you decide to go down that path, with full knowledge of the issue preclusion consequences of your strategic choices, to me, you can hardly be heard to complain about that result. You could have avoided issue preclusion entirely by simply litigating the tiny individual claim alongside the much bigger claim in court. You chose not to. Any issue preclusion consequences of that decision are your own doing, and I find it implausible that you can be heard to complain about them.</p><p>So I understand and appreciate Judge Lee's attempt to provide an advance viewing of his position on a topic that's not at issue in the present case but that may perhaps nonetheless arise in some cases in the future. But it seems to me that he's wrong on the merits. Just as, for example, a plaintiff can't potentially assert non-mutual offensive issue preclusion when she was the one who strategically split up the two cases, so too should a defendant not be permitted to claim lack of incentive/opportunity to litigate with respect to defensive issue preclusion when he's the one who elected to split up the cases in the first place.</p><p>That's my take, anyway.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-40966144726076981722024-02-09T14:01:00.000-08:002024-02-09T14:01:00.148-08:00Sherman v. Gittere (9th Cir. - Feb. 9, 2024)<p>It's always amazing to me just how bad some people can be at committing a crime. Especially a serious crime like murder. Even when it's totally planned.</p><p><a href="https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2024/02/09/16-99000.pdf" target="_blank">Like here</a>.</p><p>Did Donald Sherman successfully kill his former girlfriend's father? Yep. Went to Las Vegas, broke in through a window, and bludgeoned him to death in his bed. No witnesses. No prints, either. No DNA or anything else at trial.</p><p>Okay. I suspect that Mr. Sherman might have considered that a job well done.</p><p>Now, before the murder, Mr. Sherman might have done some unnecessary talking that might have raised suspicions. After all, according to the opinion, "On May 1, 1994, Dianne’s friend, Erin Murphy,
informed her that Sherman was going to Las Vegas and that
she feared he would harm Dr. Bauer. Murphy told Dianne
that she should tell her father and the Las Vegas Police
Department. Dianne says that she informed her brother, the
Longview Police Department, and the FBI about the danger
Sherman posed to her father."</p><p>But that's not super compelling evidence that he's guilty of a murder that took place a month later. Still, he might not want to have said anything to anyone beforehand.</p><p>Here was his first big mistake, though. "Sherman stayed at a local Las Vegas hotel
from May 28 to May 31, 1994, which coincided with the
murder." Yeah, that's probably a bad idea. Might want to pay cash, or sleep in your car, if you're planning to kill someone in a different town. Or get a fake identification for the hotel room. Given how many kids have one for getting into bars, they can't be hard to get, right?</p><p>But it's not just that. Here's the absurdly stupid part. With a reminder that the person who was murdered was Dr. Lester Bauer:</p><p>"On May 30 [the day of the murder], Sherman called Swinging Susie’s, an
escort service, and asked for an escort to meet him at his
hotel room. An escort, “Paige,” met with Sherman, who
introduced himself as “Dr. Bauer.” Sherman paid for
Paige’s services with Dr. Bauer’s credit card and signed the
receipt as “Dr. Lester Bauer.” Paige returned to Sherman’s
hotel the next morning, May 31.</p><p>Later on May 31, Sherman checked into a hotel in Santa
Barbara, California. Again, he introduced himself as “Lester
Bauer,” paid with Dr. Bauer’s credit card, and signed the
receipt as “Dr. Lester Bauer.”</p><p>On June 2, Santa Barbara law enforcement arrested
Sherman while he slept in Dr. Bauer’s stolen car. Inside
Sherman’s wallet the officers found Dr. Bauer’s credit cards
and restaurant and jewelry-store receipts signed by “Lester
Bauer.”"</p><p>Dude, seriously? After you bludgeon a guy to death with a hammer, you might not want to (1) tell an escort that you're that guy, (2) pay with the dead guy's credit card, (3) check into a hotel as that guy, using (again) his credit card, (4) buy jewelry and go to restaurants with that same card, and (5) sleep in <u>the dead guy's stolen car</u>.</p><p>Needless to say, the guy gets convicted and sentenced to death in Nevada. And, on habeas, the Ninth Circuit affirms. Because, among other reasons, any potentially problematic evidentiary rulings at trial would have been harmless error given the overwhelming evidence of Mr. Sherman's guilt.</p><p>Since it's Nevada, there's a slightly greater chance than in California that Mr. Sherman would actually be executed since his federal habeas appeals are about over. That said, Nevada hasn't actually executed anyone since 2006, and of the dozen people executed there since the death penalty came back in 1976, all but one have been "volunteers". So I'm not sure that today's opinion really puts Mr. Sherman on the edge of actually having his sentence carried out.</p><p>Still. <a href="https://www.reviewjournal.com/the-64-faces-of-nevadas-death-row/" target="_blank">Life in prison on death row in Nevada</a> is hardly where one wants to end up in life. Or, as here, spend 27 years, and counting, with another 30 or so to go before almost certainly dying in the place.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-78291283978795883802024-02-09T11:55:00.000-08:002024-02-09T11:55:54.609-08:00Lietz v. Lietz (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 8, 2024)<p>If you litigate long enough, you'll eventually have some issues with an expert. Maybe tiny ones, maybe big ones.</p><p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/G061866.PDF" target="_blank">Just be glad you're not the lawyer in this case</a>.</p><p>It's a divorce action, and the big fight seems to be about the value of the marital home. Wife says it's worth $1.1 million, whereas Husband says it's worth $1.02 million. At trial, they both get experts to testify to their respective positions. (Why you can't just settle at $1.06 million or so is beyond me, as opposed to going to trial over the $40,000 difference, but that's a different issue, and I don't do family law, so the unique dynamics of that field may perhaps explain the decision here.)</p><p>Wife's appraiser, Kristina L. Burke, prepares an appraisal report on November 16, 2021, and the parties exchange reports two days later, on November 18, 2021. The trial is the next day, on November 19, 2021. (Aren't you jealous of family law cases getting to trial so quickly after expert reports are due?)</p><p>At trial, Wife's expert, Ms. Burke, doesn't actually show up. Instead, she testifies . . . on the phone. </p><p>From her car.</p><p>Without access to her appraisal (or the opposing expert's appraisal) or other documents in the case.</p><p>The trial judge was not impressed, to say the least:</p><p>"During cross-examination, Andreas’s counsel moved to exclude or strike
Burke’s testimony and appraisal report “due to lack of preparation and lack of ability to
testify in this matter.” In response, the court stated, “Essentially, you’re doing it from a
phone in a car, and you can’t use your phone to look at documents and appear in a
hearing.” The court declared that Burke’s manner of testifying created a problem in an
evidentiary hearing. The court continued the trial to November 22, with the admonition,
“Ms. Burke, I’m hoping that you will be in a different situation, not on a phone.”"</p><p>Ultimately, Wife loses, as the trial court found Husband's appraiser "to be more credible and found the home to be valued at $1,020,000."</p><p>Wife appeals, and loses in the Court of Appeal as well.</p><p>Litigation tip of the day: Don't have your expert testify at trial from her car.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-67365087503536854032024-02-07T13:34:00.000-08:002024-02-07T13:34:11.762-08:00People v. Jimenez (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 7, 2024)<p>I gotta give props to Justice Kelety. When this opinion was initially published last week, I thought: "Whoa. I understand Part II, but I'm seriously thinking deeply about Part III. Was the evidence really insufficient to sustain defendant's conviction? The guy nearly hit a cop car, drove like a bat out of hell at 60 to 100 mph (!) in a 35 mph zone for over a mile while evading a marked police car with its siren and lights on while driving on the wrong side of the road and nearly hitting other vehicles, and then crashes his car into a brick wall. The officers totally recognize the defendant as the one driving the vehicle during the pursuit, but when they get to the crashed car, he's nowhere to be found. They so testify at trial. Is that really insufficient evidence as a matter of law that the guy in fact committed a hit and run, which is what the Court of Appeal in fact held? Seems to me like the guy <u>obviously</u> fled."</p><p>So I thought about saying something like that, but then life got in the way, I got busy, other things happened, the whole "Biblical Flood in Southern California" thing went down, etc. etc.</p><p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/D081267M.PDF" target="_blank">Today, Justice Kelety decides to <u>not</u> publish Part III</a>, even after originally not publishing the entire thing, then deciding to publish the whole opinion, and then splitting the middle to take out (IMHO) the part that totally had me wondering.</p><p>I mean, I get her point: the police didn't testify about how long it took them to respond to the collision, or why exactly Mr. Jimenez was nowhere to be found after the crash. They definitely (probably) should have.</p><p>But, I mean, come on. The guy was crazy evading the police. It's <u>obvious</u> (to me, anyway) that after trying out outrun 'em, and then crashing his car, he ditched the thing in one last effort to get away. Is it <i>theoretically</i> possible that it took the police, like, an hour to get to the car after it crashed, or that the guy really wanted to call the police and report his crash but, shucks, was just too concussed or confused to do so? Maybe. I guess. But I'd bet my left foot that the police got there <i>really</i> quickly after chasing the guy at 100 mph for a little over a mile, and even <u>if</u> the guy testified that he intended to call in the accident (which he didn't), I'd bet my entire set of feet on the fact that he wasn't telling the truth and that he deliberately fled in a (continuing) attempt to get away.</p><p>But, hey, at this point, Part III is unpublished, and -- as I noticed at the time -- the guy's sentence on Count 2 (the one reversed by the Court of Appeal) was stayed anyway. So not like it really matters at this point. To anyone.</p><p>Problem solved.</p><p>(Though I still do wonder if the Court of Appeal is really right on this one. Which I'd care more about if it mattered, which, again, it doesn't much at this point.)</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-18983480531327666242024-02-07T08:53:00.000-08:002024-02-07T08:53:00.135-08:00Devas Multimedia Private Ltd. v. CC/Devas Ltd. (9th Cir. - Feb. 6, 2024)<p>I know that it doesn't matter much either way. But since senior judges on the Ninth Circuit aren't allowed to vote on <i>en banc</i> calls in the first place (even though they're invited to express their views internally, if they wish), I probably wouldn't have them publish something that simply says -- <a href="https://cdn.ca9.uscourts.gov/datastore/opinions/2024/02/06/20-36024.pdf" target="_blank">as Judge O'Scannlain does here</a> -- that in a universe in which they had a vote, they'd have voted for <i>en banc</i> review. ("I agree with the views expressed by Judge Bumatay in
his dissent from the denial of rehearing en banc.")</p><p>I mean, sure, that's great to know, and there's no real downside in saying so. But, to use an analogy, we don't allow 14-year olds (or people in prison) to vote in elections, even though they're fully entitled to participate in deliberations about whom to elect in those things, and we likewise don't have official procedures designed to record how they would have voted if they had a vote. (Which, again, they don't.)</p><p>So I'd probably just leave this one alone.</p><p><br /></p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10018114.post-41775286544964199742024-02-06T09:55:00.000-08:002024-02-06T09:58:03.175-08:00M.A. v. B.F. (Cal. Ct. App. - Feb. 5, 2024)<p><a href="https://www.courts.ca.gov/opinions/documents/G061598.PDF" target="_blank">The split opinions in this case</a> demonstrate just how tough it is to apply the words of a traditionally-minded Legislature to the hookup culture of modern California universities. The central question here is what it means to be in a "dating relationship" with someone given contemporary teenage relationships. When you occasionally "hook up" with someone at college, does that constitute being in a "dating relationship" with them under Section 6210 of the Family Code?</p><p>It's a domestic violence case, so people might well have strong opinions at the outset. At the same time, in the pantheon of domestic violence cases you read in the California Appellate Reports, this is definitely on one end of the spectrum. As I'll explain more fully in a bit, "B.F." (I'll call him "Brad") and "M.A." (I'll call her Mary) are in college, where Brad's a senior and Mary's a freshman. They get introduced by a mutual friend at the college gym one day, and six months later randomly run into each other in a different gym, where they make out and exchange phone numbers. After several weeks, they meet at another gym, work out, then go back to Brad's place and have oral sex. The next month, they meet up at Brad's place again and do the same thing.</p><p>Three months pass, and then they hook up at another gym and make out. Three months later, Mary goes to a fight that Brad's in and they take pictures, but no fooling around.</p><p>Around a year later, Brad texts, says he's in town, they meet up in Mary's mother's apartment complex, go down to the private movie theatre, and have sex in the theatre. Five days later, Brad texts and says he wants to hook up again. Mary agrees, Brad picks her up, they kiss in the car a little bit at some red lights, and as they're driving to the place they're going to do the deed, and Brad asks Mary if she likes her hair pulled during sex. Before Mary has a chance to respond (she'd say "No," by the way), Brad grabs her hair and snaps her head back, presumably to mimic what he likes to do in bed.</p><p>But he pulls too hard, Mary's neck makes a noise, and while she doesn't think it's that bad, it still hurts. Mary tries to make light of the situation, saying "I might have to wear a neck brace on the red carpet," presumably referring to the movie theatre they're going to have sex in. They make it to the apartment complex, start to have sex in the men's locker room, someone walks in and interrupts them, and they leave and Brad drops Mary back off at school.</p><p>The next day, Mary sends Brad some texts about her neck hurting, saying things like "I know you had a long day, but no more
hair pulling. Like my neck was badly affected by it." She eventually goes to a doctor, who says she has something like whiplash from the head pull. Mary tells Brad about this, and he said he was sorry, didn't mean to do it, and offers to pay her medical bills. "Later, B.F. sent additional
messages to M.A., saying he hoped she was feeling better, he was praying for her, and he
was there for anything she needed. M.A. “didn’t really respond.” B.F. ultimately gave
M.A. a check for $120 to help cover her medical copayment amounts."</p><p>The next week, Mary files a police report against Brad, gets a restraining order from campus security, and meets with a prosecutor to press criminal charges against Brad. Several years later, after no charges were filed, Mary filed the present civil lawsuit against Brad, which seeks compensatory and punitive damages for domestic violence under Section 1708.6 of the Civil Code.</p><p>The core legal issue is that, unlike in assault or battery claims, to obtain damages for domestic violence under Section 1708.6, the parties have to be in a "dating relationship" as that term is defined under the Domestic Violence Protection Act. (Or spouses, cohabitants, or the like, but none of those others even arguably apply here.) Here's the relevant definition of a "dating relationship" -- from a Legislature that is likely infinitely unfamiliar with the college scene in the twenty-first century:</p><p>"Frequent, intimate associations primarily
characterized by the expectation of affection or sexual involvement independent of
financial considerations."</p><p>At trial, only Mary testified, and she described the above-mentioned facts, as well as characterized her relationship with Brad as "friends with benefits." Do the interactions between Mary and Brad constitute a "dating relationship" under the statute?</p><p>The trial court didn't think so, and after a bench trial, entered judgment for Brad. The Court of Appeal affirms, with Justice Sanchez dissenting.</p><p>There's definite merit to both of these competing positions. Justice Gooding's opinion focuses on the fact that the trial judge found for Brad, and that one one requested a statement of decision, which means that on appeal, you're only looking to see if the decision below is supported by substantial evidence, not that it's necessarily right. Justice Gooding says that a "FWB" situation might well involve a dating relationship in some settings, but not in others, and since the trial court can make credibility findings and need not believe everything one party says, the finding that Brad and Mary weren't dating is indeed sufficient for affirmance on appeal. By contrast, Justice Sanchez says that the evidence is undisputed and that, in his mind, the parties were clearly in a "dating relationship" as that term is defined in the statute.</p><p>Again, both of these positions have a point. Think about which one you think has the better of the argument. Personally, I think it's a very close call.</p><p>The one thing I might add, however, is that neither opinion really discusses the statue's requirement that the intimate associations be "frequent" -- indeed, on occasion, Justice Sanchez's dissent even omits this part when he quotes the statute. This might be because the parties didn't really argue about this part, or because, facially, perhaps it seems obvious that two blowjobs, one makeout session, and one instance of sex (plus one abortive attempt after the incident) over a two-year-long period counts as "frequent" intimate association. Maybe. But I could definitely see an argument the other way. Four times over a year or two isn't much. Moreover, sure, it's sexual stuff, but the "intimacy" part doesn't seem especially strong here. It's hooking up. Brad's lawyer emphasized at trial that there were no social outings, no gifts, no showing up at the other's birthday party (even though Mary asked him to), nothing at all for Valentine's Day, etc. It's friends with benefits, but honestly, it doesn't seem like even much friendship, though I'm sure there was at least some level of caring there -- though maybe much more on one side than on the other, honestly.</p><p>Anyway, that's the case. It's often difficult to apply old-style legislative pronouncements to the modern era, but perhaps especially so in the context of substantially variable social dating mores. As here.</p><p>P.S. - Since the post involves sex, Blogger apparently requires that it be behind a "sensitive content" warning. Hence the thing.</p>Shaun Martinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00520022099172733931noreply@blogger.com