Watching Legislatures
for Apprendi’s
Effects on Plea Bargaining
Darryl K.
Brown*
Cite as
5 Cal. Crim. Law Rev. 1 Pincite
using paragraph numbers, e.g. 5 Cal. Crim. Law Rev. 1, ¶11
I. Introduction
¶1 In Apprendi v. New Jersey,[1]
decided just two years ago, the United States Supreme Court held that any facts
that work to increase a criminal defendant’s sentence above the statutory
maximum must be treated as elements of the crime, and thus determined by
juries, rather than as sentencing factors to be determined by the judge. With this decision, the Court purported
to restrict legislatures’ ability to aid law enforcement in circumventing
constitutional criminal procedure rules like the criminal burden of proof--thereby
aiding criminal defendants. With a
recent article in the Yale Law Journal, Stephanos Bibas joined other scholars
in observing how easily legislatures can rewrite statutes to avoid Apprendi’s
prosecutorial and legislative restrictions, if indeed they are substantive
restrictions at all.[2] Uniquely and provocatively, Bibas then argued that Apprendi,
as a practical
result of its interaction with the other rules and incentives of criminal
litigation, will actually hurt criminal defendants, by shifting more
power to prosecutors. Bibas argued
that Apprendi
acts to deprive defendants, who overwhelmingly plead guilty rather than face
jury trials, of the only meaningful, real-world hearings they are likely to
receive--judicial sentencing hearings.[3]
¶2 Scholars have already responded
to and challenged Bibas’s assumptions and predictions about how Apprendi
will affect the real-world strategic behavior of both prosecutors and
defendants. In this article, I
want to discuss why it will be the legislative reaction to Apprendi, circumvention or
not,that
will prove or disprove the accuracy of Bibas’s theses. Over the last four decades,
legislatures have responded, often indirectly but still very effectively, to a
broad range of judicial criminal procedure decisions that have attempted to
impede law enforcement in various ways.
If Bibas’s analysis is accurate, and Apprendi in fact acts to significantly
disadvantage criminal defendants, legislators will have little incentive to
circumvent it or otherwise to effect statutory change as a result, no matter
how easy such circumvention would be.
If however, contrary to Bibas’s predictions, Apprendi in practice does
afford defendants its intended benefit (or otherwise increases the price of
adjudication), legislators will revise statutes to avoid its implications.
II. Apprendi’s Holding
¶3 In Apprendi, the Court focused
on a New Jersey statute that subjected offenders in a wide range of crimes to
higher sentences if their crimes were committed with a racial motive. The statute, however, did not make
racial motive an element of Apprendi’s crime (Apprendi pled to weapons possession counts), or of any
of the crimes to which the sentencing enhancement applied; it made racial
motive a mere sentencing factor.[4] This allowed prosecutors to prove the
fact to the judge instead of a jury, by preponderance of the evidence instead
of beyond a reasonable doubt.
¶4 In the Court’s view, the New
Jersey legislature had improperly labeled a substantive element of the crime as
a sentencing factor, making it functionally a civil component of adjudication.[5] With Apprendi, the Court
attempted to force legislatures to treat facts that affect punishment as crime
elements, and thus subject to criminal procedure rules, rather than as
functionally civil sentencing factors.
However, Apprendi is, on its face, a weak constraint on
legislatures. The Court left open
the option for legislatures to raise maximum sentences for lower grades of an
offense, allowing judges to distinguish among offenders by using mitigating
factors to lower
the inflated sentences rather than using aggravating factors to raise them
above their maximums. Unless and
until the Court expands Apprendi, it stands as an example of a
larger problem of courts’ unwillingness to regulate the legislative definition
of substantive criminal law.
III. Legislative Responses to Procedural Entitlements
¶5 Only by constraining the
definition of crimes can courts check legislative efforts to undermine the
criminal procedure rules that courts, through the Constitution, impose on
police and prosecutors. Criminal
law scholars will recognize this observation of the link between substantive
criminal law and constitutional criminal procedure as the central insight that
William Stuntz has brought to attention in recent years, and extended in an
essay last year.[6] Stuntz has lamented, as have other
scholars, the legislative trend towards over-criminalization. Ever-expanding statutes have made an
increasingly broad range of conduct[7]—even
petty or innocuous conduct,[8]
or risky conduct we once dealt with civilly[9]—the
subject of criminal law.
¶6 Much of criminal procedure aims
to restrict invasion of personal privacy and liberty by police, preventing them
from stopping and searching us for no reason while walking or driving, and from
searching our homes and personal effects without good cause. By expanding substantive criminal law
to ensure, in effect, that everyone occasionally violates a criminal law,
legislatures allow police to avoid such procedural constraints. Police can now pick and choose among us
all as we commit petty violations in order to search, on a hunch, for evidence
of major ones, as criminal conduct justifies invasions not allowed for civil
violations.[10]
¶7 Notice that the foregoing
describes the problem of legislative over-criminalization, which many
(including Stuntz) would like to see constrained by the courts. Apprendi, in contrast, is about
legislative under-criminalization. By making the racial motive a “sentencing factor” rather than a
“factual element” of the crime itself, the New Jersey legislature evaded two
central requirements of constitutional criminal procedure: the burden of proof
and jury adjudication of the elements of non-petty crimes.
¶8 How can both over- and
under-criminalization be legislative strategies for avoiding procedural
mandates? The answer lies in the
traditional division of criminal procedure rules into investigative processes
and adjudicative processes. Scholars
like Stuntz, who focus mostly on investigative criminal procedure, naturally
see over-criminalization as the legislative means to aid police in
circumventing the set of procedural rules arising primarily from the Fourth and
Fifth Amendments (due process, search and seizure). In contrast, Apprendi falls on the adjudication side,
seeking to bolster the rights provided by the Sixth Amendment (such as the
right to a jury trial, and to fair notice of charges and sentence). Under-criminalization is the legislature’s
means to grant more power and discretion to prosecutors than would otherwise be
allowed by the restrictive procedural rules. This is why legislatures draft statutes like the one under
which Apprendi was charged—facts of his conduct can be proven more easily to a judge
than a jury, due to the lower proof standard, and more cheaply and quickly.
¶9 The legislative strategy with
regard to both types of criminal procedure is to trust law enforcement
officials (both prosecutors and police officers) with a lot of discretion,
while granting limited resources.
With leeway to search the populace at-large granted by broad
over-criminalization, first police will follow hunches, sort through petty
offenders, and (in theory) efficiently find the worst offenders we really want
to prosecute. (Of course, one
obvious downside is they may target suspects on racial or other illicit
grounds; another is the potentially high social cost of privacy
invasion.)[11] Once criminals are caught, legislatures have expedited the
process of disposition by easing prosecutors’ hurdles to conviction and
sentencing, trusting their discretion to employ tools like sentencing
enhancements only when they are truly warranted (which, ideally, would coincide
with those cases in which the jury would find those facts anyway).
¶10 Bibas first argues that Apprendi,
because of its weak and formalistic nature, can be easily circumvented by
creative drafting by legislatures, returning us (effectively) to the pre-Apprendi
regime of judicial finding on key facts that affect sentences. On this point he has much company. Apprendi’s current weaknesses make it an
adjudication-side equivalent of recent doctrines that have largely failed to
restrain legislatures from undermining investigation-side entitlements. The Court’s most likely constitutional
means to limit over-criminalization all have in fact had only minimal reach,
and Bibas argues that Apprendi is similarly ineffective in
limiting under-criminalization.
¶11 Robinson v. California[12]
once promised Eighth Amendment requirements for criminal responsibility, [13]
but it has since been read narrowly merely as a ban on punishing the
“status” of addiction.[14] Lambert v. California[15]
suggested a constitutional requirement of mens rea that has since gone nowhere; even
though the Court disfavors strict liability crimes by interpreting statutes to
contain mens
rea elements, no due process requirement has evolved from Lambert
to seriously limit strict liability.[16] Papachristou v. City of Jacksonville[17]
provided a basis in vagueness doctrine for overturning the broadest of
loitering and public order offenses, but legislators have easily avoided its
restrictions by enacting an array of specific-but-broad offenses that still
allow police to stop a large proportion of citizens in public.[18]
¶12 To make such doctrines, as well
as Apprendi,
real limits on legislatures’ efforts to expand police investigative discretion,
the Court would have to take a bold step into regulating substantive due
process. As King
and Klein point out in another Apprendi article published this year,[19]
any rule stronger than Apprendi designed to similarly protect
adjudication rights (using a constitutional standard to dictate what statutory
facts must count as crime elements) would have to be relatively invasive in its
substantive restraint of legislatures.[20] However, the Court is unlikely to make
such an anti-democratic encroachment on legislative power in this context, even
though such a move would be aimed at ameliorating a decidedly anti-democratic
process defect (i.e., majoritarian disrespect for the entitlements of a disfavored
minority--criminal defendants).[21]
¶13 Thus, Apprendi shows every sign of
being an equally marginal limit on legislative under-criminalization, and
only time will tell whether Apprendi does anything more than Papachristou
or Lambert
to restrain legislative strategies to expand the discretionary power of law
enforcement officials. But judging
from the developments in the investigative side of criminal procedure,
prospects for preserving the efficacy of adjudicative rights without
substantive limits on legislative power are not promising. The same political dynamics that allow
for an ever-broadening scope of criminal statutes,[22]
thereby increasing police power, will likely drive legislatures to attempt to
evade Apprendi’s
prosecutorial restrictions; legislatures will continue to find ways to
“un-criminalize” the determination of key facts, in a continued effort to make
them functionally civil issues for judges to decide.
¶14 Bibas, however, is more worried
about enhanced
prosecutorial power after Apprendi, assuming first that it does
restrict (even if only marginally) legislatures’ ability to grant tools for use
in discretionary strategies.
Counterintuitively, he sees prosecutors gaining from Apprendi’s
nominal constraints on legislative drafting freedom. His analysis fits within an important modern trend in the
scholarship of criminal law (and other areas) to look at how real-world dynamics are likely to
shape the practical effect of formal rules, and to assess whether rules in
practice accomplish what courts intend them to do.[23], [24] Bibas argues that, because most defendants plead
guilty, Apprendi’s
grant of a jury determination of facts formerly used
as sentencing factors is worse than meaningless. Perversely, he argues, prosecutors will in fact use the rule
to deprive defendants of the sentencing hearings that ordinarily follow guilty
pleas, and will coerce defendants into waiving challenges to sentences; post-Apprendi prosecutors will be
able drive harder bargains and even reduce judicial supervision of
prosecutorial sentencing decisions.[25]
¶15 Like all forecasts of future
behavior, Bibas’s thesis rests on several assumptions. He assumes that judicial findings of
sentencing factors (such as drug quantity or racial motive) were once a
substantial check on prosecutorial power and thus a meaningful right for
defendants to begin with.[26] He also assumes that prosecutors who
formerly declined to seek sentence enhancements based on recidivism for
defendants who pled guilty will now use that power to coax pleas to sentencing
factors as well as base elements.[27] If these assumptions are refuted, Apprendi
is likely to work, in fact, much as the Court intends.[28] To be sure, every prosecutorial
strategy that concerns Bibas existed well before Apprendi--prosecutors have
long been coercing pleas to aggravating facts with recidivism enhancements and,
despite Bibas’s post-Apprendi concern about arbitrarily
different treatment of similar offenders, prosecutors have been distinguishing
between offenders by charging different grades of offenses for just as long.[29]
¶16 Unless Bibas’s views of
legislative motives are as counterintuitive as his analysis of post-Apprendi
litigation practice, he presumably does not believe that legislatures will take
any action in response to a decision that he believes to be beneficial to
prosecutors. In his view, Apprendi makes
it significantly easier and cheaper for prosecutors to obtain plea bargains
with harsher sentences; thus, redrafting statutes to circumvent Apprendi’s
nominal legislative restrictions could only benefit criminal defendants in
strengthening their procedural entitlements, bargaining leeway, and the
judicial supervision of prosecutors’ sentencing preferences. Since his take on Apprendi leads to increased
prosecutorial leverage, Bibas must believe that legislatures are unlikely to
worry about any marginal, theoretical legislative implications.
¶17 What this means is that we can
judge whether Bibas is right by simply watching legislative reaction to Apprendi. If Bibas is right, law enforcement has
already gained the upper hand with Apprendi, and legislatures will see little
incentive to decrease prosecutorial discretion by returning to the pre-Apprendi
state of affairs, or otherwise risking a statutory response to Apprendi. But if Apprendi works as the Court
and defendants hope—if real-world dynamics do not turn the expansion of a right
into a practical disadvantage—we should gradually see legislatures
marginalizing Apprendi bymoving toward higher statutory maxima,
with judicial findings of mitigating factors to lower sentences rather than
aggravating factors to raise them.
*
Associate Professor and Alumni Faculty Fellow, Washington and Lee University
School of Law.
[2]
Stephanos Bibas, Judicial Fact-Finding and Sentence Enhancements in a World of Guilty
Pleas, 110 Yale L.J. 1097
(2001).
[4]
Apprendi,
530 U.S. at 470.
[6]
See
William J. Stuntz, O.J. Simpson, Bill Clinton, and the Transsubstantive
Fourth Amendment, 114 Harv. L.
Rev. 842 (2001) (arguing that excesses in search rules arise from the
failure to calibrate them with substantive crime seriousness); Stuntz, The Uneasy
Relationship Between Criminal Procedure and Criminal Justice, 107 Yale L.J. 1 (1997) (discussing the
relationship of procedural rules to substantive criminal law and funding);
Stuntz, Substance,
Process, and the Civil-Criminal Line, 7 J. Contemp. Legal Issues 1 (1996).
[7]
An estimated 300,000 federal statutes and regulations are enforceable criminally.
See
Susan L. Pilcher, Ignorance, Discretion and the Fairness of Notice: Confronting “Apparent
Innocence” in the Criminal Law, 33 Am.
Crim. L. Rev. 1, 32 (1995).
[8]
Municipal ordinances are great sources for criminalization of innocuous
conduct. See,
e.g., People v. Kail, 501 N.E.2d 979 (Ill.App.Ct. 1986) (crime of
riding a bicycle without a bell).
My current favorite among federal crimes is unauthorized use of “Smokey
the Bear” imagery. 18 U.S.C. § 711
(1994).
[9]
Driving under the influence of alcohol was once widely sanctioned as a civil
offense. See,
e.g., Welsh v. Wisconsin, 466 U.S. 740 (1984). DUIs probably have been criminalized in
reaction to social changes that make us view such conduct more seriously, but Welsh
gave states another incentive to criminalize it: police in “hot pursuit” can
follow offenders into their homes for criminal offenses but not civil
ones. Id. at 41.
[11]
See Tracey
Maclin,
Race and the Fourth Amendment, 51 Vand.
L. Rev. 333 (1998) and David Harris, Driving While Black and All Other
Traffic Offenses: The Supreme Court and Pretextual Traffic Stops, 87
J. Crim. L. & Criminology 544
(1997) (seemingly biased use of investigative leeway arising from
criminalization of petty traffic offenses gives rise to complaints of “driving
while black”). See also Whren
v. United States, 517 U.S. 805 (1996) (foreclosing Fourth Amendment inquiry
into the subjective motivation of officers making traffic stops). For further analysis of this topic, see Pamela S. Karlan, Race, Rights
and Remedies in Criminal Adjudication, 96 Mich. L. Rev. 2001 (1998).
[12]
370 U.S. 660 (1962).
[14]
See
Powell v. Texas, 392 U.S. 514, 535 (1968) (justifying a restrictive reading of Robinson
that does not cover the crime of being intoxicated in a public place because,
on a broader reading, “it is difficult to see any limiting principle that would
prevent this Court from becoming … the ultimate arbiter of the standards of
criminal responsibility, in diverse areas of criminal law”).
[15]
355 U.S. 225 (1957).
[16]
See
Richard G. Singer, The Proposed Duty to Inquire as Affected by Recent
Supreme Criminal Law Decisions in the United States Supreme Court, 3
Buff. Crim. L. Rev. 701 (2000)
(discussing four cases that suggest that the Court strives to read mens rea
requirements into crimes whenever possible: Ratzlaf v. United States, 510 U.S. 135
(1994); United
States v. X-Citement Video, 513 U.S. 64 (1994); United States v. Staples,
511 U.S. 600 (1994); and Cheek v. United States, 498 U.S. 192
(1991)). For an insightful
analysis of when the Court does allow strict liability crimes, see Alan
Michaels, Constitutional
Innocence,112 Harv. L. Rev.
828 (1999).
[18]The Court recently reaffirmed
Papachristou’s vagueness doctrine when it found a gang-loitering ordinance
unconstitutional. City of Chicago v. Morales,527 U.S. 41 (1999).
However, neither decision does much to limit legislative crime-definition power
or police investigative discretion.
See
Debra Livingston, Gang Loitering, The Court, and Some Realism About Police Patrol,
1999 S. Ct. Rev. 141.
[19]
Nancy J. King & Susan R. Klein, Essential Elements, 54 Vand. L. Rev. 1467 (2001).
[21]
Id. Klein and King are, in my
opinion, rather sanguine about Apprendi’s effect on legislatures, arguing
for “[l]egislative freedom to accommodate the criminal law to the times …
except in the most extreme circumstances,” and against “[t]oo much regulation
of the evolution of criminal law by courts”). Id. at 1542. They propose a more moderate re-development of Apprendi,
in the form of a multi-factor test that would prohibit only “the worst
legislative excesses” and otherwise protect “the supremacy of the legislature
in defining substantive criminal law.”
Id.
at 1536-41.
[22]
For more on these political forces, see Stuntz, Substance, Process, and the
Civil-Criminal Line, supra note 6.
[23]
Stuntz’s analyses are prominent in this respect. See supra note 6. See also Daniel C. Richman, Old Chief v.
United States: Stipulating Away Prosecutorial Accountability?, 83 Va. L. Rev. 939 (1997) (discussing
federal prosecutors’ response to the Old Chief rule, which gives defendants a
right to stipulate to prior convictions).
[24]
See Michael
Klarman, Brown,
Racial Change, and the Civil Rights Movement, 80 Va. L. Rev. 7 (1994) (an example in
constitutional law); Russell Korobkin, The Status Quo Bias and Contract Default Rules,
83 Cornell L. Rev. 608 (1998) (an
example in private law, drawing on behavioral economics).
[25]
See Bibas,
supra
note 2, at 1152-59.
[28]
This is, in fact, the thrust of Nancy King and Susan Klein’s recent rebuttal to
Bibas. Nancy J. King & Susan R. Klein, Apprendi and Plea Bargaining,Stan. L. Rev. (forthcoming 2001).
[29]Id.
at notes 14-15 & 45-51.
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