Attorney General’s memo on pursuing drug-related capital crimes

This is a follow-up to my last post, from March 19.  Yesterday, March 20, the Attorney General circulated this memorandum to the United States Attorneys, “strongly encourag[ing]” federal prosecutors to “use” the existing capital offense statutes that involve drug trafficking predicates.  He specifically identifies VICAR, the firearms statutes, the CCE law, and the drug kingpin provisions of the Federal Death Penalty Act (did he catch my last post, I wonder?).

While I fully support the sentiment expressed in the AG’s memo, I’m wondering what its purpose is.  After all, the existing death penalty protocol already requires that the United States Attorneys submit all death-eligible cases to Main Justice for review.  Pursuant to the existing death penalty protocol in the United States Attorneys Manual, federal prosecutors in the districts cannot unilaterally decide whether to seek the death penalty; they can only make recommendations, and the final decision belongs solely to the AG.  This is important, by the way.  As I understand the memo, it should not be interpreted to mean that the AG has now instructed federal prosecutors to unilaterally seek death sentences.  Under the protocol, they have no such power until he says so after Main Justice protocol review.  Rather, unless I am mistaken about the memo’s meaning, I understand the memo as instructing federal prosecutors to charge these underlying capital offenses (i.e., to “use” them) when the facts support such charges, thus ensuring Main Justice review and an AG decision, as well as a conforming indictment.  I do not see this as unilaterally changing the protocol (indeed, it would be strange for the AG to simply give up centralized Department review in these cases).  Consequently, when the AG refers to the “pursuit” of the death penalty in these cases, he is the one — the only one — who decides whether the death penalty is “pursued.”  It makes little sense to place that burden on the districts, who already have an obligation to submit death-eligible cases for review.

With that in mind, my sense is that federal prosecutors are already “using” these statutes — in the sense that they are seeking indictments and submitting cases for review pursuant to existing statutory law (with the possible exception of using section 3591(b), which applies only to a very small subset of potential defendants, as compared to, say, section 924, which is far more broadly applicable).

Moreover, assuming the memo means to retain the existing protocol, is the AG hinting that more USAOs need to submit “seek” recommendations?  Or is he hinting that he will sign off on the death penalty in cases implicating these statutes?  I reiterate, as I have before: the death penalty may be the right decision in a given case, but it is dangerous to signal in advance that the death penalty will be sought, prior to full and fair review of each individual case.

So I suppose one possible consequence of Monday’s presidential announcement, and of the AG’s memo, is that more and more United States Attorneys will submit “seek” recommendations to Main Justice.  And perhaps that is wise, depending upon the cases.  But each case will still have to proceed through the Capital Case Section and the AG’s Review Committee, as well as ODAG and OAG.  And defendants will still have the opportunity to argue against seeking death in their cases.  So it is possible that this new push will practically result in more capital prosecutions in cases involving drug-related killings.  But I do not see how it will change much of what federal prosecutors, and the death penalty experts at Main Justice, are already doing, and have been for many years.

Perhaps, then, the purpose of the memo was not to change what is already happening on the ground in the world of federal prosecution.  Perhaps the memo was simply meant to send the message that this Justice Department takes seriously the social, cultural, familial, and economic damage being done by those who seek to profit off of the misery, tragedy, and ultimate death of those affected by the current drug crisis.  More death sentences will not solve the crisis.  But a death sentence might serve the ends of a justice in a given case.

Advertisements

Let’s cook: Drug Trafficking and the Federal Death Penalty

Today, in remarks in New Hampshire, and via the White House website, the President announced an opioid prevention and enforcement plan and repeated his previous suggestions about imposing the death penalty for drug trafficking.  That issue has garnered significant attention, though it is not clear whether he will propose any new death penalty to federal criminal law.

The President often speaks in grandiose and vague terms, so it is difficult to know what he means by a death penalty “for drug traffickers.”  His language on this issue seems to be the very species of flumadiddle that nearly always characterizes his public speech on matters of complex policy.

Quite possibly, what he has meant in other remarks is a death penalty option in cases where a dealer distributes to a person who then subsequently dies from the drug received as part of the transaction.  The President did not elaborate on this today, though the White House announcement of the plan says that the Justice Department would seek the death penalty “where appropriate under current law.”  But the President also said today that DOJ is “working very hard” on changing the law.  Nothing more specific, naturally.

Several issues come to mind.

First, the idea of a death penalty connected to drug trafficking is not at all outrageous or even unusual.  Several provisions of federal criminal law already provide for this (the firearms statutes, the CCE/drug kingpin law, the drive-by shooting law, and even the racketeering laws, like VICAR).  Moreover, Congress in 1994 beefed up the capital punishment provisions for CCE/kingpin-related crimes in the Federal Death Penalty Act (FDPA).  See 18 U.S.C. 3591(b).  Indeed, a drug kingpin — Juan Raul Garza — is one of only three people executed by the federal government in the modern death penalty era (he was executed a little over a week after the Government executed Timothy McVeigh).

I understand the President to be demanding stronger enforcement of those laws.  But to suggest, as he did today, that the country maybe is “not ready” for a capital drug trafficking law suggests either that he does not know that current law already covers this ground, or that he has an unusual new capital drug trafficking law somewhere up his sleeve (is that what he meant when he said that DOJ is working to change the law?).

Second, if a new capital drug trafficking law was adopted, what would it look like?  The idea that the act of engaging in a drug transaction in which the recipient dies would be punishable by death — particularly where the victim’s death is reasonably foreseeable — is not as outrageous as it may seem.

The idea could be based on a fairly standard theory of felony murder — death resulting from the commission or attempted commission of the underlying drug trafficking felony.  And it would be consistent with the theory of non-capital death-resulting penalties used not only in the some of the federal statutes mentioned above, but also those contained in the core drug offense penalty statutes.  See, e.g., 21 U.S.C. 841(b)(1); 21 U.S.C. 960.  Those statutes could be amended to include death as a penalty for the death-resulting conduct.

This general idea could, however, raise significant questions of causation and culpability, depending upon how the law is drafted.  Who is the cause of the victim’s death: the street-level dealer?  The distributor?  The manufacturer?  The victim?  When does the chain of causation between the underlying felony and the death end? (but see this earlier post on one of the federal statutes punishing death-resulting drug activity).  Would it matter that the victim took the drugs voluntarily?  That might matter to FDPA enforcement, because one of the mitigating factors listed in section 3592(b) is that “the victim consented to the criminal conduct that resulted in the victim’s death.”  A new  statute could also raise questions about Eighth Amendment proportionality under the rule of Enmund v. Florida, if the dealer/trafficker’s culpability is too attenuated from the death (though I would argue that Tison v. Arizona would likely provide an important counterweight to any Enmund claim, where the dealer/trafficker could be said to be a major participant with reckless disregard for human life, which may be especially true when trafficking in certain opioids).

So there are some open questions raised by the idea of a new capital drug trafficking statute, and perhaps that has made the White House hesitant to propose one.

Finally, even assuming that the President’s interest in seeking more death penalties in drug cases is desirable, and that he is simply asking for stronger enforcement of current law without any new additions to the prosecutorial menu, publicly pressuring the Justice Department to seek the death penalty is a dangerous game to play.

A President should be able to make his law enforcement priorities known, including his support for the death penalty.  Every President shifts DOJ resources to those areas he wishes to prioritize (gangs, guns, corporate crime, etc.).  Still, as I have previously written in the context of the President’s public statements about the Saipov case, whenever the President appears to be putting political pressure on the Justice Department to seek the death penalty, that pressure can create the impression that the DOJ’s death penalty review process is a sham.  It undermines public confidence in what should be a serious and apolitical review based on the facts and circumstances of each case.  That confidence, and the sober nature of DOJ death penalty protocol enforcement, is critical to the continued legitimacy of the federal death penalty.

To be fair, today’s remarks do not raise quite the same concerns — advocating a death penalty generally for a category of federal offenders is not the same as advocating it in a specific case without having all of the available facts and evidence.  And the White House’s statement that the DOJ “will” seek the death penalty “where appropriate under current law” may suggest that the review process will remain objective.  But, it also raises a concern: does the White House mean to say that the DOJ will seek the death penalty where the statutory scheme provides for it?  Or does the White House mean that the DOJ will seek the death penalty only where current law allows it and the DOJ concludes from its internal review that death is an appropriate punishment based on the specific facts and circumstances of the case?  Big difference.

The President’s proclivity for public bombast when wanting to appear “tough” can have negative consequences for the policies he claims to support, transforming tough talk into presidential weakness.  His counter-opioid plan has some admirable components.  They deserve a serious but careful defense.

Federal crimes in Charlottesville

The horrific events in Charlottesville yesterday have prompted a number of important questions associated with the political and moral necessity of condemning the evils of white supremacy and political violence: why did the President fail — once more — to specifically condemn white supremacy and explicitly disavow fascist and racist supporters? Will Republicans condemn the President’s anemic and equivocal response? Should we call this domestic terrorism, and why would that matter? Those are worthy questions.

Now that one person is in custody related to the car crash that killed a 32-year-old woman, however, it is also important to begin looking at the criminal law questions, as well as the political ones. The Justice Department — after an appropriate statement of condemnation from Attorney General Sessions — announced that it has opened a civil rights investigation. It is early, and we need to await more evidence before arriving at any conclusions about charges or guilt. Still, what might the Feds be looking for?

Most likely, investigators will focus on whether there was a conspiracy to violate civil rights of anyone, including the counter-protesters, pursuant to 18 U.S.C. 241. Investigators will also likely focus on 18 U.S.C. 245, which targets actions against those engaged in certain specific federally-protected activities; whether anyone was intentionally obstructed in the free exercise of their religion, pursuant to 18 U.S.C. 247; and whether this was a violent hate crime, pursuant to 18 U.S.C. 249. These latter three charges, in particular, would require evidence that the person had acted with some specifically proscribed animus, such as racial or religious animus. With respect to the car incident specifically, because death resulted from the actions of the driver, capital punishment is available under sections 241, 245, and 247, but not section 249, if those statutes applied.

But the Feds may not need to rely solely upon civil rights enforcement statutes here.  For example, 18 U.S.C. 33 makes it a crime for any person, acting “with intent to endanger the safety of any person on board” or “with reckless disregard for the safety of human life,” to damage, disable or destroy any motor vehicle “used, operated, or employed in interstate or foreign commerce.”  Section 33 also makes it a crime to, “with like intent,” disable or incapacitate “any driver or person employed in connection with the operation or maintenance of the motor vehicle, or in any way lessen[] the ability of such person to perform his duties as such.”  The video and photographic evidence from the scene in Charlottesville strongly suggests that Section 33 is a potential avenue for prosecution, though this would also depend upon other factors, such as evidence to prove the jurisdictional element (though that should ordinarily not prove to be difficult).

Section 33 does not specifically employ capital punishment, but it need not.  Section 33 is a part of Chapter 2. This is important because Section 34 provides that the death penalty applies to anyone convicted of a crime listed in Chapter 2, where the crime has resulted in a person’s death.

Another important question that remains is whether the driver is a member of, or acted on behalf of or at the direction of or in an effort to become a member of or increase status in, some specific entity, organization or association-in-fact. If so, this could potentially implicate the racketeering laws, notably the violent crimes in aid of racketeering (VICAR) statute, 18 U.S.C. 1959.  Unlike the RICO statute (sections 1961 and 1962), VICAR provides for capital punishment.  Of course, in addition to proving the underlying conduct, the Government would need to prove that the entity met the statutory definition of a racketeering “enterprise.”

Finally, it is worth noting that any mention of capital punishment is subject to both the procedural prerequisites of 18 U.S.C. sections 3591 and 3592, as well as the DOJ’s death penalty protocol.

Virginia has proven itself more than capable of handling high-profile homicide cases.  But in recent years, we have also seen the Justice Department take the position that federal action is required when civil rights enforcement is at stake.  It will therefore be important to find out whether investigators can uncover evidence of animus, or other evidence, that would be sufficient to implicate the federal civil rights statutes in Title 18.  But even without the civil rights statutes in play, federal prosecutors still may have an avenue for federal action, depending upon what the investigation reveals.  The question would then be, as it often is, whether the Feds would be content to let Virginia handle the case alone, whether Virginia would defer to the Feds, or whether there would be dual prosecutions, in which case the Feds would have to assert a unique federal interest that would not be vindicated by the state prosecution.  If the civil rights statutes are implicated, and if prior similar cases are any guide, the chances of a federal prosecution are very high.

When does robbery of a local brothel substantially affect interstate commerce? Apparently, pretty much always.

Last year, I posted about the Supreme Court’s review of, and unsurprising decision in, Taylor v. United States.  That case, up from the Fourth Circuit, held that the jurisdictional element of the Hobbs Act, 18 U.S.C. 1951, is satisfied where there is a robbery involving a drug dealer.

This past week, the Fourth Circuit issued another opinion raising a similar question about the application of the “affects commerce” element of the Hobbs Act to an unlawful business operation.  This time, rather than drug dealers, the court in United States v. Lopez considered the 2007 robbery of a Maryland brothel.

As the court described the facts of the case, the Prince George’s County brothel was located in a first-floor apartment, staffed by a Adelaida Garcia-Calderon and a doorman/money collector.  Two young men entered, demanded money, tied the doorman’s feet and hands, and then one of them raped Garcia-Calderon at knife-point.  Another man, Carlos Cordon, walked in on the robbery and was stabbed to death by one of the perpetrators; Cordon’s body was found behind the apartment building.  Garcia-Calderon and the doorman survived, but the case remained unsolved for several years.  Finally, local police were able to match the DNA from the crime scene to Miguel Ramon Cerros-Cruz, an MS-13 member, and Alexsi Lopez.  Police also had the testimony of an MS-13 member who was incarcerated with Lopez and overheard Lopez confess to the brothel robbery and killing, while also implicating Cerros-Cruz.

Lopez was indicted for violating, and conspiring to violate, the Hobbs Act.  (Although he was 17 at the time of the crime, Lopez was 24 at the time of trial, and was subject to trial in federal district court; the five-year statute of limitations was also extended because of the DNA testing, see 18 U.S.C. 3297).  Cerros-Cruz pleaded guilty; Lopez went to trial and was convicted.  The court sentenced Lopez to 20 years in prison.  (Though I remain curious: if there was evidence that the perpetrators committed the robbery, rape, or killing in order to maintain or increase their standing with MS-13, why not charge the case under VICAR, 18 U.S.C. 1959?).

The Fourth Circuit rejected Lopez’s claim on appeal that there was insufficient evidence to show the required effect on commerce.  Citing the familiar line that the Hobbs Act requires only a de minimis effect on commerce, the court noted that a brothel — like drug dealing — is an “inherently economic enterprise.”  Moreover, the court noted, in many cases, including this one, the brothel workers will travel across state lines.  The Government also provided evidence that the brothel used condoms manufactured out-of-state, and that Lopez and Cerros-Cruz targeted the brothel because of its nature as an illegal business that dealt in cash.

Although this case feels much like Taylor, that case expressly limited its holding to situations involving drug dealers as targets and to “drugs or drug proceeds,” because the federal government has jurisdiction over those markets.  “We do not resolve what the Government must prove to establish Hobbs Act robbery where some other type of business or victim is targeted,” the Court said.  After Taylor, it is worth asking whether a small-scale, local brothel engages in the kind of commercial activity over which the United States exercises jurisdiction the way that it does with respect to the controlled substance market.  After all, the Taylor decision was arguably inevitable in light of Gonzales v. Raich, which expressly decided that Congress had the power to regulate the interstate drug marketplace by reaching even wholly intrastate, locally grown marijuana.

The Fourth Circuit did not have a similar precedent on which it could rely with respect to federal jurisdiction over an interstate brothel marketplace.  Still, existing Hobbs Act case law seems to support the Lopez holding. This includes the more general rationale offered in Taylor — citing Raich — with respect to aggregation of economic activity and Congress’s ability to reach intrastate incidents of an activity that is part of a broader class of activity that is within Congress’s reach.  See also Perez v. United States.  Just as drug dealing is a “moneymaking endeavor,” as Taylor described it, so, too, is prostitution.   To reach this activity through the Hobbs Act, though, one must conclude that robbery of a brothel would also effect an interstate brothel marketplace over which the United States exercises jurisdiction.

In addition, multiple lower federal court cases recognize that where the robbery depletes the assets of a commercial establishment, then this is enough to satisfy the jurisdictional element.  But does the Lopez case involve the depletion of assets of a business, or simply of the individual sex worker or brothel manager?  Presumably, of course, someone else  — to whom Garcia-Calderon answers — is getting a cut of the cash.  But is that cash used for purposes connected with the business (such as to buy condoms, or bed linens, or other items associated with pursuing a business that involves sexual activity)?  Also, the fact that the condoms came from out-of-state provides a thin basis for satisfying what should be a more demanding jurisdictional analysis, unless the robbers took condoms, as well.  Nonetheless, federal courts have found the Hobbs Act satisfied on much thinner grounds than exist in Lopez.

Still, it is worth considering the gravamen of Justice Thomas’s Taylor dissent, and the efforts that Justice Alito made to limit the reach of the Taylor holding (perhaps to satisfy some of Justice Thomas’s concerns).  If the Fourth Circuit is correct that the brothel’s character as a commercial establishment, even an unlawful one, is by itself sufficient to satisfy the Hobbs Act (and thus the Commerce Clause), then it would seem that any robbery of any business — no matter how small, or how local, and no matter the volume of its business nor the amount of money that it makes — would be enough to justify the exercise of federal jurisdiction under the statute.  One wonders whether that rule would be consistent not only with the statutory definition of “commerce,” but also with a Constitution that denies a general police power to the federal government.

Perhaps the Fourth Circuit, even if ultimately correct, could have offered a more substantial analysis with respect to the effect on commerce.  It is one thing to acknowledge that the Hobbs Act incorporates all of Congress’s commerce power.  It is quite another to interpret the Hobbs Act in a way that gives Congress more than that.

 

Supreme Court decides Taylor: knowingly robbing a drug dealer of drugs or proceeds satisfies Hobbs Act

After a long week of business travel, I’m ready to begin posting again and wanted to begin with some observations on the (in my view) egregious treatment given to Dustin Johnson yesterday at Oakmont by the United States Golf Association.  Fortunately, DJ played sterling golf down the stretch, mooted the consequences of the USGA’s concerns, and (implicitly, of course) gave the USGA a big ol’ middle finger with a dramatic birdie at 18 to widen his margin of victory in the U.S. Open.  But I have been thinking about doing some posts on what the rules of sports can learn from rules of law, and the Johnson-ball-moving controversy supplies an excellent subject for such a post (as would the almost equally egregious treatment DJ received from the PGA of America at Whistling Straits back in 2010, robbing him of his place in the playoff for the PGA Championship – I’m sure I want to revisit that, too).

But that commentary will have to wait.  More immediately, it was a big day at the Supreme Court for federal criminal justice.  Nothing shocking, but three cases announced today each have some significance for prosecutors and defense lawyers.

The Court decided Taylor v. United States.  I posted on Taylor earlier in the year (here).  Predictably, the Court, per Justice Alito, held that the jurisdictional element of the Hobbs Act, 18 U.S.C. 1951, is satisfied merely by showing that the defendant knowingly robbed a drug dealer of drugs or drug proceeds.  The opinion was short, and found that any questions about the scope of the jurisdictional element were governed by Gonzales v. Raich.  Because Congress has the authority to regulate the intrastate possession, manufacture, or distribution of controlled substances, it follows that Congress can criminalize the intrastate theft of controlled substances.

Three items from Taylor are noteworthy.  First, Justice Alito’s opinion accepted, for purposes of this litigation, the holding from Stirone v. United States that the Hobbs Act employs the full scope of congressional commerce power.  Justice Alito does not defend this proposition with any additional language, but simply says the “expansive language of the Act” cannot be interpreted otherwise.  But that is exactly the problem: the expansive language of the Act.  Had Taylor placed before the Court the question of whether the wording of the jurisdictional element was consistent with the Court’s Commerce Clause cases since 1995 (Lopez), and not 1960 (Stirone), I think Justice Alito would have had to defend the scope of the Hobbs Act more decisively.  My view is that these drug robbery cases are the somewhat easy cases, because of Raich; far more difficult applications of the jurisdictional element involve other kinds of robberies, ones that do not involve subject matter already covered by a Court decision on the scope of the Commerce Clause (e.g., robbery of, say, a local convenience store, or a home-invasion robbery of a person who also owns a small business).  Justice Alito seems to acknowledge this by limiting the holding to drug dealer robberies, and perhaps that very sentence will encourage challenges to the scope of the jurisdictional element in other robbery cases that do not involve drug dealers.

Second, Justice Alito acknowledges Justice Thomas’s lone dissent.  Justice Thomas was largely echoing concerns he has raised for twenty years about the Court’s Commerce Clause jurisprudence, and because he could not muster majorities in the previous Commerce Clause cases in which he wrote separately to express his views on Commerce Clause originalism, it is unsurprising that he is speaking for himself here, as well.  But Justice Alito then says “we have not been asked to reconsider Raich.  So our decision in Raich controls the outcome here.”  Fair enough.  But what if the Court had been asked to reconsider Raich?  I’m not sure this matters much, as I think Justice Alito (and the Chief Justice) would be highly unlikely to undo Raich.  Even if that question were before the Court, Justice Thomas would likely be writing for himself (after all, he is the only Raich dissenter who is still on the Court).

Finally, the majority opinion says the Hobbs Act is satisfied if the defendant “knowingly stole or attempted to steal drugs or drug proceeds.”  I read this as requiring proof of knowledge as to the derivation of the items sought.  But what if the defendant robbed a drug dealer and did not know the person was a drug dealer?  Or, what if the defendant knowingly targeted a drug dealer but stole items not derived from the sale of drugs (such as, for example, expensive jewelry that the victim bought with salary from legitimate employment)?  The Court’s language here could invite additional litigation in these cases on the question of where the money to purchase the stolen items came from –  legitimate sources or drug trafficking?

The Court today also decided RJR Nabisco v. European Community (here), which held that in civil RICO litigation, RICO does not apply extraterritorially unless Congress expressly makes it so.  Because civil RICO decisions can affect the scope of criminal RICO prosecutions (each kind of action derives from the same body of statutory law), I will think more about how important this case may (or may not) be in future criminal RICO cases.

And the Court decided Utah v. Strieff (here), holding that the exclusionary rule does not apply where an unconstitutional Terry stop leads to the discovery of an outstanding warrant, the arrest for which turns up drug evidence.  The discovery of the outstanding warrant, the Court held, breaks the chain of causation between the initial illegality and the seizure of the evidence.  I’ll have more to say on Strieff in a future post.

DOJ obtains major Gangster Disciples indictments; 48 charged

The Gangster Disciples originated in Chicago with the merger of two other gangs.  They now have a presence in half of the country.  They are hierarchical, well-organized, and extremely violent.

Yesterday, the Justice Department released now-unsealed indictments from two districts – the Northern District of Georgia and Western District of Tennessee – that charge 48 alleged members of the Gangster Disciples with a wide variety of federal crimes.  The crimes include RICO conspiracy, drug conspiracy, murder in aid of racketeering, extortion, and various firearms offenses, as well as a variety of financial crimes.

From my reading of the indictments, at least one person, named in the NDGA indictment, will be death-eligible for allegedly committing a murder in aid of racketeering and using a firearm during or in relation to the murder (there is no death penalty under RICO, but there is a death penalty under the VICAR statute and the firearms enhancement statute).  Others may be similarly death-eligible using complicity principles (e.g., if others ordered or approved the killing).

The DOJ’s press release is here.  Both indictments are linked at the bottom of the release.

 

Fixing VICAR for murders in aid of racketeering committed by juveniles

This week, the United States Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit decided United States v. Under Seal, which provides ample reason to continue questioning the Supreme Court’s egregious errors in Roper v. Simmons and Miller v. Alabama.  The Under Seal opinion is here.

The defendant is a juvenile who was, according to the court, “a few months shy of his eighteenth birthday.”  Truth is, he was 17 years and 8 months.  According to the Government, he was also a member of MS-13, and was accused of directly helping others in MS-13 to kill a fellow gang member who had been suspected of snitching.  The Government also explained that the victim had actually been lured to a Falls Church, Virginia park on the pretext of submitting to a calenton, which involves beating a member while others count to 13.  This was, according to the Government’s description of the crime, an especially brutal killing involving a knife and a machete.  The defendant allegedly helped the others in holding down the victim, stabbing the victim in the stomach, and slashing the victim’s jaw and neck using the machete.  The gang then buried the victim’s body in the park.  Fearing that the body would be found, the defendant then helped others in the gang dig up and rebury the body.

The Government sought to prosecute the defendant as an adult for murder in aid of racketeering (MS-13, of course, being the relevant racketeering enterprise).  Under the murder provision of the Violent Crimes in Aid of Racketeering (VICAR) statute, 18 U.S.C. 1959, however, the only available punishment for the defendant would be death or life imprisonment.  The defendant argued that it would be unconstitutional to transfer him from the juvenile system to the adult system because either of the two available punishments – death or mandatory life – would violate the Eighth Amendment when applied to a juvenile.  Of course, the defendant is correct.  Roper held that the death penalty cannot be imposed upon a person who commits a capital crime before age 18, and Miller held that juvenile homicide defendants cannot be sentenced to a mandatory term of life without parole for crimes committed before 18.  The district court and the Fourth Circuit agreed that the transfer would be unconstitutional.

The Government tried to argue severability, but the Fourth Circuit rejected those arguments.

The logical conclusion of Under Seal is that – because of Roper and Miller – no juvenile defendant can ever be prosecuted in federal court for murder in aid of racketeering.  Given the number of juveniles involved in major gang crimes, including criminal homicides, this is not a desirable status quo for the federal criminal law.  Punishment as a juvenile delinquent for such crimes – just think about the alleged murder in this case, as an example – does not serve the ends of justice nor would it generally serve the purposes of the criminal law.  And while it is true that there are other crimes, which allow for punishments of less than mandatory life, that the Government could seek against juveniles, VICAR is an important statute in fighting very serious crimes, including murders, committed by gangs and organized crime.  Unlike RICO, VICAR allows for the death penalty (for an adult offender, of course).  Also unlike RICO, VICAR does not require the Government to prove a pattern of racketeering activity, which makes it a desirable statute for isolated violent crimes.  It would therefore be unfortunate if the Government was permanently forbidden from using VICAR to target gang-related murders committed by juveniles.

Accordingly, and consistent with the Fourth Circuit’s implied invitation in Under Seal, Congress should amend VICAR to state that, in the case of a juvenile defendant convicted of murder in aid of racketeering after an appropriate transfer proceeding, the punishment shall be for any term of years.  Congress could even add a mandatory minimum (say, ten years), as long as it avoids mandatory life.

Absent this fix, the result is a juvenile delinquency adjudication for allegedly slicing up a guy with a knife and machete and burying him in a park.