Bringing Brendan Dassey into the classroom

Last week, Laura Nirider wrote a thoughtful post titled, “False Confessions, Legal Education, and the Brendan Dassey Case.”  Along with her colleagues at the Center on Wrongful Convictions of Youth, Laura represents Brendan Dassey—one of two defendants prominently featured in the 2015 Netflix series Making a Murderer.  In the post, Laura acknowledged the problem of false confessions—a problem she describes as happening “with disturbing regularity.”  She thereafter wrote what, in my opinion, are two critical sentences:

"It’s time for law schools to do something about it.

In fact, I’d like to suggest that law schools – national stewards of the noble profession of lawyering, responsible for producing the next generation of lawyer-citizens who will shape and change the law to come – are well situated to do something about problematic gaps in the law just like this one."

I agree with her.  Strongly.  As Laura notes, Dassey’s case before the Supreme Court focuses on the voluntariness doctrine.  But the narrow focus of Dassey’s court case hardly tells the full story that we, as law professors, might tell to our students about how Dassey was investigated, represented and ultimately convicted.

The question shifts, then, to how the legal academy might better engage students in the critical topics raised by Dassey’s case—including the role of false confession literature and jurisprudence.  To me, it starts with making it real for students.  Too often the books we teach from and the lectures we give deal in hypotheticals.  What happened to Dassey, though, is not a hypothetical.  And sadly, as Laura notes, his case is far from an anomaly.  The upshot, though, is that students know who Dassey is and they are eager to learn how he was convicted.  In short, his case is the consummate teaching opportunity.

Here at The University of Arkansas, I have twice taught a course called (Un)Making a Murderer and assembled course materials to accompany the class.  I am also in the process of writing a criminal procedure casebook that relies, in part, on filings from Dassey’s case.  Doing so has intimately acquainted me with Dassey’s case (and his co-defendant, Steven Avery) alongside the many legal issues associated with his case. 

To bring Dassey’s case alive for students, I view it as critical to rely on select filings from the litigants, select orders from the courts and appropriate law enforcement investigatory materials.  I’ll submit to you that an investigatory criminal procedure class discussion focused on those materials creates a lively environment unlike a more typical conversation that revolves around discussing one case at a time in a vacuum—disconnected from how that case applies to a real person.  

In a series of posts during my time as a guest here at the Lounge, I’ll propose how law schools might use the diverse range of issues raised specifically by Dassey’s case to better educate students.  Sure, faculty might be interested in teaching a standalone course about Avery and Dassey, but reaching the broader audience of students who enroll in the criminal procedure courses is more salient. 

First, I’ll spend my time here offering some thoughts on how Dassey’s case illustrates the need to teach students about interrogation methods alongside the corresponding judicial opinions.  I felt and feel so strongly about the topic that I became certified in the country’s leading interrogation method. 

Second, I’ll offer some thoughts on why Dassey’s case illustrates some of the complex ways that law enforcement interrogation tactics impact the application of Miranda doctrine.  Demonstrating the disconnect between doctrine and police tactics is important given that so many students will be tasked in their careers with identifying legal issues from interrogation videos or interrogation transcripts. 

Finally, I’ll offer why Strickland v. Washington remains an inadequate measuring stick for defense attorney performance.  Once again Dassey’s case illustrates the harsh Strickland reality:  poor lawyering passes muster for Sixth Amendment purposes. 

Thanks so much for the opportunity to blog here on the Lounge.  Special thanks both to Dan Filler and Steve Lubet.  More on interrogation methods in my first substantive post. 

Comments

[Anthony Gaughan]

Great post, Brian. Welcome to The Faculty Lounge!

[Deep State Special Legal Counsel]

One word says it all: LAWYER. "Five O" don't talk to innocent people.

[Litowitz]

This happens in Chicago so often it is called the False Confession Capital of the Country: here is the 60 Minutes story:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YSo_9Xo_78E

Your course sounds fascinating, and very necessary.

[Deep State Special Legal Counsel]

Litowitz^^^

I am loath to put this on people, but there are probably 70,000 lawyers in and around Cook County. A lot are struggling financially. For two bills, I would bet folks could find a lawyer for a station house interrogation... Or at least a lawyer to give a brief consultation to say, "You should not talk, and here is what to expect if arrested." At least to the Cook County Public Defender started a pre-detention arrestee program.

[Litowitz]

Deep State,

That logic would hold in many places but not in Chicago. We have black sites where innocent people are picked up by the cops, locked, tortured, and thrown out. https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2015/feb/24/chicago-police-detain-americans-black-site We have 5 year waits for a jury trial. Same think in the Bronx, NY -- some people have to come back to court dozens of times, they get detained so long that they confess or kill themselves. And no, these people do not have "two bills" -- they are broke, meaning no money, none. They are surrounded by 6 cops and told they will spend their life in prison if they don't confess.