By the time singer-songwriter Fiona Apple introduced the practice of courtwatching to millions of Americans last year, urging them to go observe the basic machinery of the criminal legal system at work, these programs had emerged all over the nation. Typically, they’re piloted by people critical of mass incarceration who hope to shed light on the everyday abuses defendants suffer when nobody’s looking. In Los Angeles, organizers visit one of the county’s 36 courts twice a month. In Baton Rouge, the Reverend Alexis Anderson is at the local courthouse almost every day. “Everywhere you’ve got a court, somebody needs to be watching it in real time,” she told me.

A new courtwatching effort has sprung up in San Francisco in recent years. Like the other groups, Stop Crime SF volunteers attend hearings and take notes. They emphasize the importance of transparency and public accountability. “San Francisco courts are notoriously opaque,” the group’s founder, Frank Noto, told me.

But Stop Crime SF is approaching courtwatching from essentially the opposite direction. Noto and his fellow members want harsher sentences for people with repeated violations, and they’re highly critical of judges who let people out on their own recognizance, meaning without money bail, to await trial. “At a time when drug overdose deaths are at an all-time high, many chronic drug dealers and other repeat violent felons are free on our streets because of overly lenient court rulings,” the group said in an August statement.

Now, as California’s March 5 elections approach, Stop Crime SF’s sister c(4) organization, Stop Crime Action, is jumping into the city’s judicial races and working to oust two sitting judges whom it says are fueling this crisis, Michael Isaku Begert and Patrick Thompson. The group, which is also led by Noto, is championing Chip Zecher and Jean Myungjin Roland, Begert and Thompson’s challengers, who are also running with heavy tech and venture capital money and support from the local police union. 

The response from Bay Area progressives has been furious, with City Supervisor Aaron Peskin urging voters to “reject this right-wing attack on San Francisco’s judiciary.” LaDoris Cordell, a former superior court judge in Santa Clara County, south of San Francisco, said she worries that “you may see a sea change in how judges behave” if Stop Crime SF’s effort succeeds and Begert and Thompson are removed. 

“These judges are going to start handing down harsher sentences and who is it going to impact?” Cordell told Bolts. “Poor people, people of color, and here we go again.”

San Francisco has in recent years been embroiled in an intense debate over policing and incarceration that attracted national attention when the city elected and then quickly recalled progressive DA Chesa Boudin. In the years since, Boudin’s critics have continued blaming progressive reforms for crime and drug problems in the city, benefiting from an alliance with a fleet of billionaires who have used their considerable resources to boost politicians and legislation with a more punitive approach.

The latest offensive against San Francisco’s judges fits into this broader playbook. Still, the fact that advocates for greater punishment are using an approach crafted by proponents of criminal legal reform renders it more confounding. On its own, courtwatching is essentially neutral, and its empirical nature seems to render it trustworthy. The question is: Who’s watching? And what happens next?

The California prison population ballooned from just over 21,000 in 1978 to over 175,000 at its peak in 2006, driven in part by some judges’ tendency to maximize sentences. And the perception that voters would only support tough-on-crime officials has also shaped how the judiciary has approached its work. 

“When I started as a baby judge, and I was first appointed, one of the older judges came to me and said, ‘Look, if you don’t want to get reversed in criminal cases, just throw the book at everybody,’” Cordell recalls. 

Later, when she ran for reelection, Cordell was attacked for being too soft with defendants. “My opponent was this hard-nosed DA, and he put out, ‘she’s just a Rose Bird clone,’” she told me. That’s a reference to former California Chief Justice Rose Bird, who faced years of reprisals from conservative groups for overturning death sentences as unconstitutional. In 1986, residents voted decisively to remove her from office. 

Cordell prevailed and secured reelection, though, ultimately staying on the Santa Clara superior court from 1988 to her retirement in 2001.

These battles have picked up in recent years. Santa Clara voters recalled Judge Aaron Persky in 2018 after he gave Stanford student Brock Turner a three-month sentence for sexual assault. Turner was required to register as a sex offender for life, but after the case made national news, some onlookers found the sentence unforgivably light and levied a campaign against the judge. 

Inversely, also in 2018, four San Francisco public defenders ran from the left against sitting superior court judges; all lost, though one of them was elected the following cycle. In 2022, Angelenos elected a public defender to the bench who ran on a goal of lowering incarceration rates and criticized sitting judges for stubbornly resisting sentencing reforms. 

Progressives’ wins in judicial races came alongside their takeover of DA offices in San Francisco in 2019 with Boudin and Los Angeles in 2020 with George Gascón, outcomes that intensified pushback from critics of criminal justice reform. 

Noto, a former lobbyist for real estate developers, started Stop Crime SF as a neighborhood group back in 2017, advocating for more resources for police and new legislation to prevent car break-ins. The group promptly took on Boudin after his election and later supported the effort to recall him. That November, Joel Engardio, who was Stop Crime SF’s executive director, ousted an incumbent supervisor. 

During this time, the group expanded its scope to scrutinize the bench, building a courtwatch program to get volunteers to study how judges responded to property crimes. “We wanted to make sure that judges understood, that the district attorney understood, that these are important too and they just couldn’t ignore this,” Noto told me. Eventually they began tracking responses to violent crime and drug offenses as well. 

Stop Crime SF’s approach gained a powerful ally when Brooke Jenkins was appointed DA by Mayor London Breed to replace Boudin. Before her appointment, Jenkins was paid over $150,000 to consult for Neighbors for a Better San Francisco, a group that heavily supported the recall effort and has also backed Stop Crime SF. 

Jenkins promptly clashed with local judges. When she said she would prosecute some 16 and 17 year olds as adults, the lowest age state law would allow, a veteran judge, J. Anthony Kline, refused to send any young people into the adult court system. In response, Jenkins’ office began blanket-challenging him, which effectively removed Kline’s entire case load. Jenkins also told ABC that “judges are refusing to make sure that these individuals stay in custody, and that has to change.” At a town hall in the summer of 2023, the DA excoriated local judges for releasing defendants with multiple drug offenses pre-trial, rather than keeping them locked up. 

Zecher, one of the candidates endorsed by Stop Crime Action, told the San Francisco Chronicle that he was inspired to run by a comment Jenkins made urging challenges to sitting judges. Zecher, a corporate lawyer on the board of UC Law San Francisco, did not agree to a request for an interview for this article.

Boudin believes his successor has been “scapegoating” judges to deflect from her own responsibility, also pointing to Breed, an ally of Jenkins who last year vociferously criticized a federal judge for upholding a ban on of homeless encampments as long as the city lacks sufficient shelter beds. “They both leaned so heavily into the doom-loop, fearmongering approach to defining San Francisco as a way to get me out of office, and now they own the problems and the perceptions,” he told Bolts. “They can’t shake it and so they’re looking for someone else to blame.”

Breed, who like Jenkins is up for reelection in November, is also championing a wide-ranging ballot measure on March 5, Proposition E, that would expand the powers of the local police; Stop Crime Action has endorsed it. Another measure, Proposition B, would increase the size of the police force, but only if the city creates new taxes to pay for it, a condition that troubles police advocates; one of its chief opponents, Axios reports, sits on the board of Stop Crime SF.

Over the last year, Stop Crime SF’s courtwatching program, and its accusations that the local bench is fostering crime, have morphed into an effort to outright remove two local judges whom the group says exemplify this behavior. Noto wrote in the organization’s newsletter in November that Begert and Thompson “have a demonstrated track record of releasing serious and dangerous offenders back into the public.”

Begert presides over several of San Francisco’s collaborative courts, where judges either try to formulate a treatment plan for people who are jailed, or get people into services as an alternative to incarceration. He also oversees San Francisco’s CARE court, where people close to someone with substance abuse or mental health issues can petition the court to mandate treatment—a program that has also proved controversial on the left because of concerns around civil rights.

Begert told Bolts in an interview that he believes he is being targeted because of his work on the collaborative courts, alleging that his critics are pursuing an agenda that’s single-mindedly punitive.

“Why me?” he asked. “Because I’m running these treatment courts, and these treatment courts are built on trying to address the underlying causes of criminal behavior, to increase public safety by reducing future conduct. And if your primary motivation is to impose punishments on people, or to accomplish what we call in legal philosophy retribution—that’s not furthering your objectives.”

Noto rejects the notion that he’s politicizing the judiciary. He says his group is largely looking to promote transparency, and that its decisions about which judges to target stem from external feedback.

In the lead-up to the 2024 elections, Stop Crime Action released what it called a judicial “report card” that rated judges whose terms end in 2024, and gave both Begert and Thompson (and no one else) failing grades. According to The San Francisco Standard, the group drew on cases that were tracked by courtwatchers and a variety of other factors, including a survey the group sent out to local trial attorneys. 

But the group only received roughly 25 answers—most of them, perhaps unsurprisingly, from prosecutors rather than judges and defense lawyers. Mission Local reported that the group misrepresented a single person’s assessment in a way that implied numerous negative reviews. 

“I have no objection to engaging with the public and having people see what we do,” Begert told Bolts. “I think we should have more of that. My objection is to coming into the project with a political agenda.”

The other targeted judge, Patrick Thompson, handles preliminary hearings; he evaluates evidence to determine whether the case will continue to trial. Much of the criticism against him in the Stop Crime Action report card centers on cases where he released defendants with past convictions on their own recognizance pending their trial. 

The San Francisco Chronicle found this month that, in a number of the cases, Thompson’s decision to release received no objection from the prosecutor on the case, meaning that all parties agreed the defendant should be released pending trial. Lara Bazelon, a law professor who advocates for criminal justice reforms in San Francisco, says pretrial detention is legally considered a final course of action. “It’s the resort only after every other less restrictive alternative has been considered and rejected,” she said. “And that’s because when you lock someone up pretrial, you’re taking someone that is presumed innocent, and taking away their freedom for weeks or months or even years at a time.”

Thompson did not respond to a request for an interview, nor did his opponent Roland, who currently works as a prosecutor in Jenkins’s office. 

The San Francisco Bar Association, the more traditional rating system for local judges, rates each of Thompson and Begert as “well-qualified.” Zecher and Roland received no ratings from the bar association because they declined to participate in the process, an unusual decision.

The president of the association told KQED in December that she’s worried about attacks on “the independence of the judiciary.” Boudin echoed that concern, telling Bolts that judges are constrained in how they can defend themselves; he pointed to state rules known as the judicial canons that prohibit judges from talking about the cases in front of them. “Unsurprisingly, they’ve chosen people who are uniquely vulnerable,” he said. 

Courtwatchers on the left view judges as too prone to detain defendants pretrial and throw the book at them—even beyond what the law requires. Stop Crime SF, meanwhile, sends its members into courtrooms to observe criminal cases with a form asking them to rate whether “defendants were held accountable for their actions by the court.” The form defines accountability, among other things, as whether a judge sets money bail and ultimately sentences someone at—or beyond—sentencing guidelines. 

Progressive courtwatchers elsewhere have taken note of the effort in San Francisco. And while their goals differ significantly, some say they support more scrutiny on the courts on principle, since they believe courts’ opacity to the public has produced harmful results overall.

Courtwatch LA also has a website, Rate My Judge, where community members and lawyers can weigh in on their experience in court. A lot of the negative reviews center on judges’ treatment of the people in their court, but some are outcome-focused, too—one judge’s page has several comments alleging that he categorically denies resentencing petitions. They also plan to challenge judges in the future, though they would not consider a score statistically significant until it was composed of at least 45 reviews.

“I think it is something the left has to sort out or at least accept as inevitably a two way street,” said Bazelon. “Courts are open to the public. There’s nothing unlawful or untoward about going and observing what happens in court. And I don’t think it should come as any surprise that it’s going to be a tool that both sides are going to use.”

The Los Angeles organizers tend to also distrust the assessments by professional groups like the bar association, arguing that while they’re purportedly neutral, they’re biased against candidates of color and women, and against lawyers opposed to the status quo. They say their approach brings in a different, necessary perspective.

“At the end of the day, it is a community tool,” said Titilayọ Rasaki, policy and campaigns strategist for La Defensa, the Los Angeles organization that runs Courtwatch LA. “I think it’s just a question of who’s in and who’s out in your community.” She noted that many of Courtwatch LA’s volunteers have had past contact with the criminal legal system. For these people, she said, “it’s a kind of reclamation, or a way of shifting your relationship to the criminal legal system that has probably impacted your life in vastly different ways.”

Rasaki and her colleague Gabriela Vázquez, deputy director of La Defensa, told me that they weren’t threatened by Stop Crime SF’s use of a similar playbook. In their eyes, the problem with what’s happening in San Francisco is not that incumbent judges face scrutiny or opponents; it’s the “scare tactics” employed against them. “If we have a drug overdose epidemic, the easy way out is just criminalizing people, or attacking judges,” Vázquez said. “What we’re seeing in the Bay Area is that they’re trying to take the easy way out and find scapegoats.”

Still, Rasaki said she welcomes anyone to courtwatch. If they feel comfortable with how poorly people are treated and how easily they’re incarcerated, she said, “that’s a value judgment for them… We can disagree and we can use different organizing strategies and the ballot box, I guess—this is where we’re duking it out. It’s a contention of ideals.” 

“If it gets more people in the courts, if it gets more discourse about what it is that the courts are up to, and whether or not they’re meeting the needs of our society—that’s a conversation I’m really trying to start,” she said.

The post In Pursuit of Harsher Punishments, San Francisco Courtwatchers Target Judges appeared first on Bolts.

There’s something odd about next month’s ballot in Arkansas. 

Voters are filling two supreme court seats in two separate nonpartisan elections. Neither seat’s current occupant is seeking a new term, so at first glance it may look like the cycle will add two fresh faces to the court. But of the six candidates running for these two seats, four are already sitting justices on the court—they just want to shift into different seats than their own. 

If justices who already sit on the supreme court win either of those seats, they would then need to resign from their current positions. This would create vacancies that would be filled by the state’s staunchly conservative governor, Sarah Huckabee Sanders, a reshuffling that’s poised to accelerate the court’s shift toward a solidly right-wing majority. 

“Almost inevitably, the governor is going to end up with some appointments here,” said Jay Barth, a professor emeritus at Hendrix College who has long studied Arkansas politics. “And the more she gets, the more conservative the court is likely to get as well.” 

The only two candidates not already on the court face tough odds, crushed by their opponents’ name recognition and fundraising. Each told Bolts that they’re concerned about the prospect of the governor shaping the court’s membership when justices are supposed to be chosen by voters. 

Many states select justices via elections, but then stretch the spirit of that approach. Justices in other states routinely resign before their term is up, enabling governors to name a replacement; in Minnesota, for instance, all current justices owe their seat to an appointment despite the state’s election system. As Bolts has reported, a loophole in Georgia law has even allowed state justices and other officials to maneuver to outright cancel some judicial elections.

In Arkansas, the reasons for this situation are very different across the two elections. One of the two open supreme court races this year is to replace Chief Justice John Dan Kemp, who is retiring rather than seek a new term. Three of the court’s associate justices—Karen Baker, Barbara Webb, and Rhonda Wood—are running for the open chief justice position, which is akin to seeking a promotion, since the chief justice has broad responsibilities over supervising the state’s judicial system. 

It’s not unusual for an associate justice to run for chief justice, but already sitting on the court is not a necessary stepping stone. Kemp was not on the court in 2016 when he successfully ran for chief justice. This year too, there’s a candidate running from the outside: Jay Martin, an attorney and former lawmaker, argues it’s an asset that he’s not already a justice. “I just think that we need a fresh pair of eyes on the court in the role of chief justice,” Martin told Bolts. (This race will head to a November runoff if no one tops 50 percent on March 5.)

Arkansas’ other open supreme court race is a special election that was triggered by the death last summer of Associate Justice Robin Wynne. It pits another outsider to the supreme court—Carlton Jones, a lower-court judge—against another sitting associate justice, Courtney Hudson, who is attempting to switch to the open associate justice seat. (With only two candidates in this race, one of them is sure to win outright in March.)

There’s no promotion at play here; Hudson’s current seat (“Position 3”) and the seat she is running for (“Position 2”) both fill the same role. What’s different between them is the timing of their elections. 

“By running for Position 2, I can potentially serve longer as a justice on the Court and continue my work of ensuring that everyone benefits from the goodness and protection of the law,” Hudson told Bolts this week.

Switching seats would allow Hudson to spend more time on the court, circumventing the state’s retirement age by a few extra years. Arkansas rules strip justices of retirement benefits if they run for reelection past age 70 but don’t force them to resign once they hit 70; justices can finish whatever term they’re already serving without endangering their benefits, thus the exact timing of their terms determines when they must retire. 

For Hudson, these are all considerations for a very distant future since she is only 51. Even if she stayed in her current seat, the earliest she’d have to retire is 2042. But if she succeeds at moving into the new seat this election, she’d be allowed to run as late as 2038 and serve out a final eight-year term until 2046—a potential four additional years on the court.

Jones, the lower-court judge challenging Hudson for the open seat, told Bolts in an interview that Hudson’s motivation for running was a “personal want,” comparing it unfavorably to what he called her three colleagues’ “legitimate reason” to run for chief justice. He added that a vacancy created by a Hudson win would be an “artificial opening” because of how unnecessary it is, and that this would betray the selection system that allows Arkansans to “express their choice through the ballot box.”   

“These offices, they belong to the citizens of the state of Arkansas, and we should be doing those things that best serve them,” he added. 

Hudson dismissed Jones’ concerns about her decision, saying it’s wrong to litigate the fate of the Position 3 seat during the campaign for Position 2. She said her experience makes her the best option to fill the open seat, telling Bolts, “The job of a Supreme Court Justice is far too important to wait for ‘on the job training’ to occur.” 

Martin, who is challenging three sitting associate justices for the chief justice seat, says he does not fault his opponents for trying to “step up” into the role. But he echoed Jones’ assessment that these races, and the prospect of gubernatorial appointments looming over them, are in tension with the state’s commitment to judicial elections, a system that was ratified by voters in a 2000 ballot initiative. 

“Arkansans made the decision to elect our judges, and not have the governor appoint judges,” Martin told Bolts. “We value electing judges.” 

Wood, one of Martin’s opponents, does not share his concern, telling Bolts via email, “I believe the people of Arkansas would prefer an experienced Chief Justice with a proven judicial record versus risking the Chief Justice position on someone with no judicial experience only because some would prefer the Constitution provided an alternative method for filling the temporary vacancy.” Baker and Webb did not reply to requests for comment.

A vacancy in Arkansas sparks a special election in the next even-numbered year, and an appointed justice cannot run for a full term. So if Huckabee Sanders chooses one or two new justices, they’d serve for up to two and a half years; then, there’d be new open elections for those seats in 2026. 

After Wynne’s death, for instance, the governor replaced him by appointing Cody Hiland, who was thus barred from running for the seat in the special election this year. But Barth says he expects Hiland to be on the shortlist for a new appointment to fill any vacancies that may result from the 2024 elections, which would extend his term on the court without facing voters to roughly three years. Hiland dodged the question of a reappointment when asked by The Arkansas Times earlier this month.

And important cases are looming just over the next few years, such as the challenge to a state law passed in 2023 that has significantly weakened direct democracy in the state. Relatedly, transparency advocates are embroiled in a legal saga against the state’s Republican attorney general who has blocked some popular initiatives from moving forward; the court is likely to weigh in on the fate of several ballot initiatives in coming years.

The reshuffling of the court also comes at a time of quick ascendancy for Arkansas conservatives.

While the state leans firmly to the right, its judiciary is divided between a more centrist and a more conservative wing, with recent elections producing some victories for the former. In 2022, conservatives failed in their effort to oust two justices whom they deemed to be too moderate—Baker, who is now running for chief justice, and Wynne, who passed away last year. 

Those two justices, plus Hudson, formed an informal group of three moderates on the seven-member court. Barth says that Kemp, the retiring chief justice who was first elected in 2016, typically issued conservative rulings but sometimes sided with his more moderate colleagues. But Wynne’s death last year, and his temporary replacement with Hiland, a conservative, set up a more reliably conservative majority on the court made up of Hiland, as well as Webb and Wood, who are both now running for chief justice, and Shawn Womack, an associate justice who is running for reelection unopposed this year. 

Kemp’s retirement could leave Baker and Hudson as the only two justices left on the court who have a more moderate reputation. Both are sure to stay on the supreme court no matter how they fare this year in their effort to switch seats. But if they win their upcoming races, the resulting appointments by Huckabee Sanders may shift the court yet another step to the right. 

“It’s pretty clear that the governor will attempt to appoint conservatives in those positions, that’s been the nature of her appointments so far,” Barth said. 

In their respective interviews with Bolts, Jones and Martin—the would-be newcomers to the court—each downplayed having ideological commitments, highlighting their independence. WIth candidates for judge in Arkansas running without any party label, that all makes it risky to predict how the court would rule on any issue even if they were to win. 

Still, both have run for past offices as Democrats. Jones became prosecuting attorney in Lafayette and Miller counties, in southwestern Arkansas, running as a Democrat in 2010; he served until becoming a circuit judge in 2014. Martin, who says he’s now an independent, was a Democratic lawmaker and House Majority Leader in the mid-2000s, right before the state’s hard swing toward the GOP. He also ran for governor in 2022, coming in a distant third in the Democratic primary. 

As he now runs against three sitting justices at once, Martin embraces his outsider status as the thing that distinguishes his campaign, even as his opponents hold it against him. “The presumption that any necessary change is stalled because there is not an outsider on the court is wrong,” Wood, one of the justices on the ballot, told Bolts in an email. “The Chief Justice role is not one that you can learn on the job.” Wood says she has goals of improving the court system, such as setting up a “web portal for victims of domestic violence” to file their documents.

Martin insists that his experience is relevant to the position. A volunteer pastor in Little Rock, he points to past activities like his involvement in an expungement clinic through his church as an example of the outsider’s perspective he’d want to bring. “I think that community involvement is very important to break up the status quo,” he told Bolts, denouncing the fact that many Arkansans lack access to legal help and end up unsuccessfully representing themselves in expungement proceedings or civil disputes with landlords. 

Martin also told Bolts that his background as a former legislator would prime him to talk to lawmakers and identify funding sources in budget negotiations. He vowed to be “the chief advocate for more pro bono work for attorneys and law students” to improve the legal representation people receive. 

“We can do a better job of providing services,” he said. Of his opponents who are already on the court, Martin added, “I think that it’s just easy to maintain the status quo after a number of years.”

The post Judges Play Musical Chairs on Arkansas’ Highest Court appeared first on Bolts.

Most obviously, these courts have become an urgent route for liberal litigants in light of conservatives’ durable majority on the U.S. Supreme Court. State courts get to interpret state constitutions, which often protect rights and liberties more expansively than the U.S. Constitution, and they’ve proven friendly to arguments that wouldn’t succeed in federal court. The right has also focused on them to expand its control over the judiciary.

But these courts have even more clout than you may realize. They can shape virtually any policy area that state and local governments touch. They’re likely to have the final word on all cases filed in state courts, and many play additional roles that extend far beyond deciding cases, from crafting the rules of criminal trials to taking part in redistricting and certifying elections.

And yet these courts’ exact powers and procedures often remain well under the radar. What justices do and how they’re selected varies widely from state to state, and it always differs from the federal system. Most states elect justices but have their own twist on electoral rules, while some courts are shaped by commissions largely out of public view—and nearly all serve some idiosyncratic function with little scrutiny. These distinctions all influence how each court acts and what might be levers of change.

Today Bolts is publishing a new state-by-state resource that plunges into the weeds of these critical judicial powers. For each of 54 courts—accounting for the highest court in all 50 states, two of which have two separate high courts, plus Puerto Rico and D.C.—we cover every nook and cranny of how they are organized, what functions they serve, and rules for judicial selection.

But here we also wanted to take a step back. Why should we care about state supreme courts? What types of cases do they even hear? And what do we know about the balance of power between liberals and conservatives foothold on these courts across the country? Below is our FAQ to answer your big questions on state supreme courts.

I follow the U.S. Supreme Court: Why also care about state supreme courts?

If state and local governments have any involvement in an issue, you can bet that state supreme courts shape public policy on it. Why is abortion more widely available in this state than in neighboring ones? Why are police officers harder to prosecute in one jurisdiction over another? Why does this state better protect the rights of employees or access to mail-in ballots? The answer often has to do with how legal cases were resolved by state supreme courts, and who was sitting on them when they did.

In fact, many cases begin and end in state court, and never interact with federal judges. That includes countless civil lawsuits, and the vast majority of criminal prosecutions. These cases are heard within each state’s separate judicial system, and then work their way to the top state court that has supreme authority over their outcomes.

That’s how state supreme courts end up with the final word on critical cases—whether a lawsuit against South Carolina’s abortion restrictions, the appeal of a death sentence in Florida, or the legal battle over Illinois pensions. Some of these high courts also have idiosyncratic roles such as drafting bail schedules or approving pardons, and they can shape the rest of the judicial branch: That’s information that Bolts’ new state-by-state resource supplies.

Why would a case end up in state courts instead of federal court?

By-and-large, federal cases involve allegations that something or someone violated federal laws or the U.S. Constitution, or involve large financial amounts, inter-state disputes, or federal agencies. 

Everything else is likely to end up in state court, and possibly escalate to a state supreme court. 

These can be civil cases—you can bring a lawsuit in state court, especially if you’re invoking your state’s laws or your state’s constitution—or they can be criminal cases. Every state has its own criminal laws, and local prosecutors can charge people for breaking them in state courts; and if you’re convicted of a crime, you can appeal all the way to your state’s high court. 

What’s the role of state constitutions?

The rights inscribed in the U.S. Constitution only set a floor. Each state has a constitution that may have different language or protect rights that the U.S. Constitution doesn’t, at least if a state supreme court interprets it that way. How receptive a given court will be to such arguments, of course, will depend on its membership.

For instance, the U.S. Constitution’s prohibition on “cruel and unusual” punishments is mirrored in many state constitutions, with some even banning “cruel or unusual” punishments, a grammatical tweak that may justify more expansive protections. And in each state, the supreme court will effectively have the final word on what exactly those clauses forbid.

In light of federal courts’ sharp turn to the right, many progressive and civil rights groups have prioritized filing state lawsuits by crafting arguments that rely on their own state’s constitution. They may argue, for instance, that its language enjoins climate action or protects reproductive rights.

But can’t the U.S. Supreme Court step in regardless? 

Yes, if you’re unhappy with how your state supreme court decided your case, you typically can appeal to the U.S. Supreme Court. But that court hears very few cases. It’s also extraordinarily unlikely to consider a case that involves a state supreme court interpreting its own state’s constitution or statutes.

In practice, state supreme courts have the final word on what rights their state constitutions provide, and on nearly all cases and lawsuits that work their way through the state court systems. 

So what do these state supreme courts do, day-to-day?

Their primary role is to review decisions made by lower courts. Every state has its own judicial pyramid, like the federal system: there are trial courts, typically appeals courts, and a supreme court at the top. (There are variations on this structure; most notably, Oklahoma and Texas have separate high courts for criminal and civil matters.)

State supreme court justices decide whether to take up a case for review. 

But these courts also serve many other functions. Most are responsible for supervising the operations of their state’s entire judicial branch, putting them in charge of vast bureaucracies. They appoint people to key spots, and decide on rules that everyone else must follow, from attorneys to lower-court judges. In many states they also write the detailed procedures that govern any criminal case, including major matters like how bail or sentences are calculated.

Some courts have even more direct powers. In Arizona, justices witness election certification. In Nevada, they sit on the pardon board. In Tennessee, they appoint the attorney general.

Our state-by-state database highlights these unique powers for every high court, including the role each plays in crafting the rules of criminal procedures, and in various tasks relating to elections.

How do states decide who sits on their supreme courts? 

Every state sets its own rules for how justices are selected and how they remain on the court, and no two states do it exactly the same—and none do it exactly like the U.S. Supreme Court.

One rare trait that unites nearly all states is that justices serve set terms. They are on their court for defined periods of time and then must seek a new term. Only in Rhode Island do they serve for life with no age restrictions, like they do on the U.S. Supreme Court. 

This alone makes the membership of state courts far more fluid than the U.S. Supreme Court’s. To top it off, some states even impose a mandatory retirement age, often between 70 and 75. 

Otherwise, state systems differ a great deal. Broadly speaking, they fall into two big buckets as to how justices make it on the court.

Some states elect their justices from the get-go. People not yet on the court can run for a seat, and incumbents who want new terms may face challengers. States like North Carolina and Wisconsin, for instance, consistently have heated judicial elections. 

In other states like Indiana and Vermont, justices are always first appointed onto the court, typically by a governor. But these states vary on whether an appointed justice faces elections once they’re on the court. In many states, justices must face retention elections at the end of their term—up-or-down elections in which voters decide whether an incumbent can stay on the court. 

States also vary on how much latitude governors have when they select a justice: Some governors are free to choose anyone without even worrying about legislative confirmation. Governors making high court appointments in other states, like Missouri, are much more constrained and must choose from a shortlist preselected by a nominating commission over which they may have little control. And in Virginia and South Carolina, supreme court appointments are made by lawmakers with little involvement from the governor.

In practice, though, the difference between elections and appointments can get very blurry. 

Take Minnesota and Georgia, which have regular judicial elections but nearly all sitting justices first made it onto the court through an appointment. That’s because justices often resign before their term is over, letting governors select a replacement with little constraint. Once appointed, these incumbents rarely face any opposition when they run for a full term. 

Does my state have elections? 

Thirty-one states organize some sort of elections for supreme court justices. 

In some states, justices only face voters once they’ve already been on the court for a few years, and only in the form of retention elections—no named challengers, just a yes-or-no vote on whether they should stay on the court.

Other states organize regular elections for all judicial seats: Every few years, any candidate who meets the qualifications to be a judge can run for a seat whether or not there’s an incumbent, and the winner joins the court. That sounds simple enough, but each state comes with some twist. Elections may be held at odd times, they may be canceled at the drop of a hat, and they may be governed by unusual rules that don’t apply to the state’s more prominent elections. 

To complicate matters further, states may also mix up these models, using either regular or retention rules depending on the circumstances. 

Are judges partisan or political officials?

Only nine states elect judges in partisan elections. Candidates there may file to run as a Democrat or Republican. 

Still, in states that hold nonpartisan elections, parties and groups that support a political cause frequently get involved. Elections in Wisconsin are ostensibly nonpartisan, for instance, but are also very polarized. Other states with nonpartisan systems have sleepier elections. 

Similarly, in states where justices are appointed, party affiliation is not a formal factor in the process, but the political leanings of prospective appointees are often a factor on the decisions of the governors or lawmakers who make the selection—much like in the federal system.

That may be true even in states that constrain a governor to a list preselected by a nominating commission made up of legal professionals—a process that is meant to be more meritocratic but does not eliminate political considerations. The shortlist may present various options that preserve a governor’s ability to shape the court’s direction, and some commissions also have an ideological bent. There’s often backdoor maneuvering about who sits on them, with governors or legislative leaders shaping their  membership. Florida’s commission, for instance, has helped Governor Ron DeSantis move the state’s high court to the right, while New York’s has faced scrutiny for leaving jurists of color off of nominating lists. In Iowa, the GOP recently changed its commission to give the governor more control over who sits on the commission.

Can you tell me which party, or which ideological side, controls which court?

This is a difficult question. Only 12 high courts explicitly integrate justices’ party affiliation into their selection. That’s usually because the justices are elected in partisan elections, but it may also be because there’s a formal requirement (Delaware) or informal convention (New Jersey) that there be some partisan balance on the court.

In those states, it’s at least possible to say which party holds a majority of the court.

As of today, 6 of these courts have a Republican majority and 6 have a Democratic majority. (Two of those Republican majorities are in Texas, which is a rare state with two high courts.)

But judicial philosophies do not always map onto judges’ partisan affiliation.

Inversely, courts that are technically nonpartisan may have a strong ideological lean. They may have a coherent majority that constantly favors liberals or conservatives, or justices whose careers demonstrate a strong affiliation to a political cause. In Arkansas, for instance, a majority of supreme court justices now have ties with the Republican Party after Governor Huckabee Sanders appointed the chair of the state GOP to the court this summer. Wisconsin’s court flipped from a conservative majority to a liberal one as a consequence of the 2023 elections. New York’s conservative-leaning court took a step to the left this spring after a heated battle in which progressive groups fought the governor’s initial nomination. 

Assessing a court’s politics may then entail identifying other proxies for judicial ideology. In states with judicial appointments, we can start by assessing the party of the governors who selected the justices. In Minnesota, for instance, all justices as of now have been appointed by a Democrat, while in Arizona they’ve all been appointed by a Republican. 

This is a reliable predictor in some states—but it can be an imperfect proxy in others since some governors must get their choices approved by the legislature, or are constrained to choosing from a commission’s shortlist. Then again, governors can try to craft these commissions to their liking to gain more influence over the process, frequently far out of view of the general public.

The devil is in the details, which is why Bolts’ state-by-state database lays out more information on each court’s process.

How do state supreme courts affect a specific issue I care about?

On any issue, lawsuits may put a state’s statutes and practices under court scrutiny, at which point it comes down to what’s written in the state’s constitution and laws—and who has the power to interpret them. Many courts also have rulemaking powers that give them the ability to upend some matters even more directly. Here are some examples of what to watch on just six key issues.

If you care about abortion rights: The U.S. Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in 2022, but state supreme courts can interpret their own constitution as recognizing a right to abortion. A Bolts analysis found that a dozen had done so by the time of the Dobbs ruling, and more since. But conservative gains can undo these rulings. In 2018, Iowa’s supreme court ruled that the Iowa constitution guarantees a right to abortion but then reversed itself in 2022 after the arrival of new conservative justices. 

If you care about criminal justice: State courts shape the rights of people accused of crimes at every stage of a criminal case, and some courts have pushed back more than others against invasive police practices or extreme sentences. Many supreme courts also write their state’s rules of criminal procedure—lengthy codes that govern how cases unfold, from the issuance of warrants to the calculation of sentences. Some courts even set bail schedules. This is an often-overlooked but potent policymaking role. In 2021, for instance, Arizona’s supreme court eliminated peremptory strikes, the practice by which attorneys can eliminate someone from the jury pool without stating a cause. Explore our state-by-state guide to learn the extent of each court’s rulemaking role with regards to criminal procedure; the guide also specifies for each court whether a court is involved in drafting sentencing guidelines and setting bail schedules.

If you care about LGBT rights: Some state constitutions provide greater protections for individual rights than the U.S. Constitution, and LGBT activists have turned to state courts when federal courts have been unwilling to affirm certain rights. In 2003, Massachusetts’ supreme court recognized marriage equality, setting off a wave of supreme courts that did the same before the U.S. Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage nationally. And as states are now passing new anti-trans legislation, state advocates are again turning to state courts.

If you care about education: Many state constitutions contain provisions that state courts have interpreted as creating a right to education, and activists have argued in court since the 1970s that unequally or inadequately funding schools is unconstitutional.

If you care about the environment: As the climate crisis rages on, the regulatory power of environmental agencies often hinges on decisions by state supreme courts. Plaintiffs have also invoked environmental rights to push for climate action, with some success; Hawaii’s supreme courts, for instance, recently affirmed a robust interpretation of such rights in its state constitution, and a case in Montana that involves a right to a “healthful environment” could soon make its way to that state’s supreme court.

If you care about how elections are run: The shape of democracy can hinge on the composition of state supreme courts, which play a crucial role in blessing or rejecting voter suppression. Lawsuits are constantly filed in state courts challenging election law and practices, anything from voting procedures and gerrymandered maps to legislation restricting access to mail ballots. A change in the court’s membership can lead to major changes in election law, as in North Carolina this year. And some supreme courts are tasked with more direct roles in the running of elections, like supervising the drawing of new maps or participating in the certification of election results.

For more information, explore our state-by-state guide to how each state’s high court.

The post Everything You Always Wanted to Know About State Supreme Courts appeared first on Bolts.

Patricia McCullough, a Pennsylvania appeals court judge, issued an order in late November to halt certification of the state’s elections. It was a rare bright spot for Trump’s “Stop the Steal” crusade and its false claims of electoral impropriety, but his victory was short-lived. Within days, Pennsylvania’s supreme court unanimously reversed her ruling and shut down the case by dismissing it with prejudice.

The case, the justices ruled, offered an “extraordinary proposition that the court disenfranchise all 6.9 million Pennsylvanians who voted in the General Election.” The state supreme court has since repeatedly reversed McCullough in other election cases, including overturning a ruling she joined last year against the state’s expanded mail-in voting rules, and rejecting her advice that the state adopt a Republican-drawn redistricting proposal. 

McCullough is now running to join the court that so directly questioned her judgment. The death of Democratic Chief Justice Max Baer in October has left a vacancy that voters will fill this year. The winner will join this swing state’s high court and hear cases that touch the 2024 election, just as Trump vies to be on the ballot once more. 

In the run-up to Tuesday’s Republican primary, McCullough has enjoyed financial support from “Friends of Doug Mastriano,” a political committee that supports Mastriano, the prominent election denier and Trump ally who unsuccessfully ran for governor last year on an agenda of disrupting state elections.

The primary pits McCullough against Carolyn Carluccio, a local judge endorsed by the state’s Republican Party who has also echoed some false claims of election impropriety. Two Democrats, Deborah Kunselman and Daniel McCaffrey, face off in a primary on the other side of the aisle, with a general election scheduled for November.

Dan Fee, a political consultant who works with liberal judge candidates in Pennsylvania, though he is not affiliated with any in this election, says McCullough siding with Trump didn’t surprise those who’ve followed her rulings over the years. 

“Republican judges across the country stood up and said, ‘This isn’t right.’ If you’re the judge who said that this passes the smell test, that raises real questions,” Fee said, calling McCullough a “national outlier of Republicans across the country.”

Judges of all political stripes rejected Trump’s claims in late 2020. The Washington Post tallied at least 38 Republican-appointed judges had ruled against Trump in the five weeks following the 2020 election. That included a Trump nominee in federal court who called a lawsuit to overturn Wisconsin’s results “extraordinary,” and the supreme court in Arizona, which is filled entirely with justices appointed by Republican governors.

“It’s almost hard to overstate how clownish these cases were and how poorly they were litigated,” attorney Sarah Gonski, who argued in favor of the Democratic Party in several Arizona cases in 2020, told Bolts. “The judges that heard our cases in Arizona were routinely Republicans. Every single one of those judges except for [McCullough] said, ‘Get out of my courtroom.’ It was definitely surprising.”

McCullough, in fact, has embraced that distinction. She said in 2021, “I was the only judge in the entire country to enter an order to halt the certification of the 2020 presidential election results.”

She made that comment during her first run for state supreme court, in 2021, just months after trying to block certification. She lost by 19 percentage points to now-Justice Kevin Brobson in the GOP primary. During that campaign, she boasted about her relationship with Trump: “I am the only candidate I know that had a tweet from President Donald Trump, and Donald Trump actually tweeted that I was a brilliant woman of courage,” she told Pittsburgh’s CBS station, in apparent reference to a post by Trump on Nov. 26, 2020.  (Trump did score some other small legal victories in late 2020, but other judges did not agree to halt certification.)

Neither McCullough nor her primary opponent, Carluccio, responded to requests for comment on this story.

Carluccio has also signaled comfort with voting restrictions and election conspiracies.

Asked by The Philadelphia Inquirer whether she believes election results in 2020 and 2022 were “free and fair,” she dodged the question. “If even one Pennsylvanian has concerns about our electoral process, we must address them,” she said. “Our government cannot simply dismiss the concerns of a large portion of our electorate.”

The Inquirer’s question came on the heels of Carluccio telling a local GOP audience that she opposed Act 77, the 2019 bipartisan law that expanded mail-in voting in the state; she claimed it had led to “hanky panky,” echoing Trump’s false allegations that mail-in voting has led to voter fraud.

Act 77 was already at the core of the 2020 case in which Trump allies sued to halt certification, as they sought to invalidate the mail-in ballots cast in the state thanks to the expanded statute. In reversing McCullough’s order in favor of the plaintiffs, the state supreme court cited the “complete failure to act with due diligence” since Act 77 had passed a year before. More than a year later, in early 2022, McCullough again sided with Republicans in another case they brought against Act 77, striking down the law as unconstitutional in a 3-2 ruling. The supreme court upheld Act 77 in August. 

Other elections on Tuesday feature candidates who have aligned with Trump’s Big Lie. In Kentucky, the Republican secretary of state is running for re-election against an election denier who has the backing of Mike Lindell. In Pennsylvania, VoteBeat and Spotlight PA identified dozens of local candidates who have amplified false claims about the 2020 election in places like Washington County.

The shadow of “Stop the Steal” efforts also loomed large in 2023’s only other supreme court race, in which liberals flipped control of Wisconsin’s high court in April. That election saw more than $31 million spent, a national record for a judicial race. Bloomberg reports that the four Pennsylvania candidates have combined to spend less than $1 million so far, though spending could intensify in the six months before Nov. 7.

Unlike in Wisconsin, the court majority is not in question in Pennsylvania this year. 

With one seat on the bench now empty, Democrats hold a 4-2 majority, and November’s victor will fill the seventh seat.

This election could open the door, however, to Republicans regaining court control in Pennsylvania in the future. The terms of three of Pennsylvania’s Democratic supreme court justices end in 2025; if they seek another term, they would face an up-or-down retention election. One Democratic justice, Christine Donahue, is set to hit the mandatory retirement age in 2027, which will prompt a vacancy. Should Republicans win this year, it may help them flip the majority later in the decade.

In the near term, Pennsylvania is likely to remain at the epicenter of election-related litigation, and the state supreme court will continue to be central to resolving that litigation.

“Anyone who remembers 2020 and is thinking ahead to 2024 knows that the Pennsylvania Supreme Court is going to play a critical role in how the state runs its elections and how the outcome of the election is managed and dealt with,” Victoria Bassetti, senior advisor at the nonpartisan States United Democracy Center, which works to protect ballot access and beat back voter suppression, told Bolts. 

She added, “No one should ever, ever be complacent or overconfident about how courts will rule in these cases, which means that every election and every judge who’s elected to that bench is important.” 

The post The ‘Stop the Steal’ Judge Who Wants a Seat on Pennsylvania’s Supreme Court appeared first on Bolts.

In the church vestibule, someone had put out free “Justice 4 Wisconsin” spice packets from the outspokenly progressive spice company Penzeys, which is headquartered in the Milwaukee area and has trademarked the phrase “Season liberally.” “Wisconsin’s Republicans lie and cheat, and when we stay silent they win,” says the messaging on the packet. “Speak out for Justice, our environment, a fair playing field for all, and the importance of voting April 4.”

The event itself was nonpartisan and the candidates’ names were barely mentioned. Instead, the panelists discussed how they grapple with getting out the vote in underserved Milwaukee communities that are struggling with gun violence, underfunded schools, and food deserts.

They lamented the challenges of organizing in Milwaukee given some state conservatives’ undisguised hostility toward the voters of color who make up the majority of the city’s population. Most recently, a GOP member of the Wisconsin Elections Commission bragged to other Republicans in a January email about a successful voter-suppression campaign “in the overwhelming Black and Hispanic areas” of Milwaukee; the commissioner, Bob Spindell, refused calls to step down and has not been disciplined.

“There’s so many needs pressing our community today. When we talk about disparities in this country, Milwaukee leads the nation,” said panelist Sharlen Moore, who co-founded the local youth leadership program Urban Underground in 2000. To energize voters, “we got to get back to the block” and build community with neighbors.

Another panelist, 20-year-old activist Deisy España, shared a message that she said resonates with her peers, many of whom—like España—have immigrant parents who cannot vote. “I tell them they’re voting for their parents,” she said.

After the town hall, attendee Deborah Thompson told Bolts that in her neighborhood of Heritage Heights, a small middle-class, majority-Black community about six miles northwest of the church, she is talking with her family, friends and Bible study group about voting on April 4.

“Democracy is a big concern of mine because I do see it as under threat,” said Thompson, who is 75. To encourage people to vote, she first brings up the erosion of voting rights and the loss of ballot drop boxes, which the state supreme court disallowed last year in a 4-3 ruling. 

“If I feel safe enough, then I’ll bring up women’s rights,” she added.

Tuesday’s election will settle if conservatives keep a majority on Wisconsin’s supreme court or if it flips to the left, and all of those issues hang in the balance. Amid an outpouring of national attention and spending, the urgent questions the race will decide have dominated the campaign and its coverage. Will the state’s abortion ban from 1849 survive a legal challenge, will Wisconsin end up with fairer electoral maps for the rest of the decade, will voters regain access to drop boxes? For people who are volunteering their time on this race, these stakes are as enormous as they are self-evident.

But they also face a difficult reality. This momentous showdown is taking place in an off-year, springtime, low-turnout election, far from the energy that greets a presidential race.

Mobilizing people to come out in elections that aren’t synced with national cycles is always a challenge, and there’ve been efforts across the country to move their time. “Historically these spring elections have extremely low turnouts. This election is going to be all about who gets the people out to vote,” Christine Sinicki, a Democratic Assembly member who represents the southernmost parts of Milwaukee and some adjacent suburbs along Lake Michigan, told Bolts. 

Roughly 960,000 people statewide cast ballots in the first round in February that decided which two judicial candidates would move on to next week’s general election. That’s a huge drop from November 2020, when nearly 3.3 million Wisconsinites voted for president. It’s an especially pressing headache for liberals: The drop-off is far more prevalent in Milwaukee, an engine of Democratic politics, than in the outer ring of conservative suburbs that power Wisconsin’s GOP candidates.

As a share of all registered voters, turnout in February was 26 percent in Milwaukee County and 33 percent in the WOW counties. Within just the city of Milwaukee, it reached only 22 percent.

In Wisconsin’s nail-biters, these shifts can make all the difference. And now, control of the state’s supreme court hinges in part on whether organizers in Milwaukee persuade and help enough city residents to vote.

Restrictions that have been blessed by that same court, like the ban on drop boxes, have not helped. A Republican law adopted in 2018 also cut back early voting in Milwaukee from nearly six weeks to two weeks before an election. That makes it harder for working families in Milwaukee to find time to vote, Sinicki said. “There’s a lot of people out there working two jobs who just can’t get there on Election Day.”

Even within the city of Milwaukee, turnout is not spread evenly. According to an analysis by Marquette University researcher John Johnson, Milwaukee’s overall voter turnout in recent years has declined, with the biggest losses in low-income and predominantly Black and Latinx areas. That pattern held in the first round in February: Turnout varied wildly, from roughly 5 percent of registered voters in some wards to roughly ten times that rate in more affluent neighborhoods.

In the ward that contains St. Gabriel Church of God in Christ, turnout reached only 12 percent in February—down very precipitously from where it stood in the November midterms, 51 percent.

LaToya White, another panelist in the town hall, pointed to the disparities felt by residents on the north side of Milwaukee, especially younger people. “Being an organizer, you’re in the community every day, and you see our youth,” she said. “They feel like they’re left out.”

White works at Wisconsin Voices, a community organization that promotes civic participation; she saw “amazing” engagement here last fall but this has not carried into the judicial race. “This election is so quiet,” she said. “A supreme court race to them, they don’t see how important this is and don’t know that this election here is one of the most important out of the next ten years.”

In a race where so much is at stake, organizers and party representatives aren’t sticking to one issue to energize voters.

“A lot of people until recently I don’t think understood the importance of the supreme court and how important it was to our day-to-day lives and our rights,” Sinicki said. “People are finally waking up. I always said we have to hit rock bottom before people realize what’s going on here, and I think we’re there. If they can strip away our rights to control our own healthcare, what’s next?”

A lawsuit against the state’s abortion ban is working its way through state courts, and Janet Protasiewicz, the liberal candidate in the race, has campaigned on her personal support for abortion rights. Last week, in her only public debate with her conservative opponent Daniel Kelly, Protasiewicz said, “If my opponent is elected, I can tell you with 100 percent certainty, that 1849 abortion ban will stay on the books.” 

For reproductive rights advocates, anger over the ban is tied in with concerns about democracy in Wisconsin. There is no plausible path for Democrats to overturn it legislatively because Republicans have maintained ironclad control over Wisconsin’s legislature thanks to the heavily gerrymandered electoral maps they have drawn. The maps are widely considered some of the most skewed in the country. Sam Munger, an election consultant and panelist at the town hall, said the maps have “rendered voting largely irrelevant.”

But the supreme court election is a statewide race, so it offers Wisconsinites the opportunity to vote outside the confines of those gerrymanders. Protasiewicz has called the state maps “rigged” and many Democrats hope that a liberal court could strike them down. 

Protasiewicz’s supporters talk up the election’s implications for the future of voting rights. The Democratic Party of Wisconsin held a “Voting Rights Panel” in mid-March on Milwaukee’s north side to address issues of gerrymandering and voter suppression, in the presence of prominent Democrats like former Lieutenant Governor Mandela Barnes, who lost the U.S. Senate race last fall.

Conservatives are mobilizing around the same issues. Wisconsin’s leading anti-abortion groups have rallied around Kelly. 

Scott Presler, a young, pro-Trump conservative from Virginia and founder of the Super PAC Early Vote Action, has spent the last couple of weeks in Wisconsin, door-knocking and making appearances to get out the Republican vote for Kelly, with the long-term goal of advancing what he calls “election integrity” in swing states to ensure a win for Trump in 2024. On a March 16 episode of Steve Bannon’s War Room show, Presler called the April 4 election “one of the most consequential elections in Wisconsin history” because of the state supreme court’s control over voter access issues like ID and proof-of-residency requirements.

“If the liberals are able to win on April 4, we will have unmanned drop boxes in Milwaukee and Madison going into the 2024 election,” he warned. The morning after the first day of early voting last week, Presler took to Twitter to celebrate strong turnout numbers in conservative Waukesha County and to call on people to vote in a string of counties that did not include Madison and Milwaukee.

Other Republicans are also treating Milwaukee, where Protasiewicz serves as a local judge, as a foil for the rest of the state. That’s a frequent campaign tactic for the GOP in Wisconsin. Some are already floating impeaching her over her work as a Milwaukee judge if she wins. (On the same day as the supreme court race, a special election for a state Senate seat will decide if the GOP has the Senate supermajority it would need to remove a state official on a party-line vote.)

The judicial race is ostensibly nonpartisan but Democratic groups are backing Protasiewicz and Republican groups are supporting Kelly, a lawyer who used to sit on the state supreme court and has a long history in conservative politics.

Money has poured into the race, reflecting national interest but also lax campaign finance rules that allow for massive expenditures. Total spending in the supreme court race is already near $45 million with a week to go, according to WisPolitics, which triples the national record for a judicial election.

That includes at least $15 million in independent spending since Jan. 1, according to the Wisconsin Ethics Commission. Groups supporting Protasiewicz have a slight edge in spending as of publication, but far more of the money on the liberal side has gone directly into the candidate’s campaign coffers. Billionaires George Soros and J.B. Pritzker, the Illinois governor, are among the largest liberal donors, while conservatives include megadonors Richard and Elizabeth Uihlein and Federalist Society co-chairman Leonard Leo. People and groups with ties to the efforts to overturn the 2020 presidential election have also donated millions to help Kelly. 

But as the panelists of the St. Gabriel Church town hall attested, that noise isn’t heard equally in all parts of the state. 

After the March 18 town hall, a few groups of volunteers left to canvass nearby. They handed out nonpartisan fliers that listed general election and early voting information.

Milwaukee resident Jodi Delfosse, 55, took a stack of fliers and walked up and down a nearby block knocking on doors. It was a finger-numbing 16 degrees and the weather switched disorientingly between blizzard-like snow and clear sunshine every few minutes. She was met mostly by Ring security systems, with residents answering the door through their intercom, and a few face-to-face interactions. In a friendly voice, one resident told her through a closed door to leave the flier outside because “I’m not dressed.”

These obstacles to reaching voters door-to-door was one reason Linea Sundstrom started Supermarket Legends, a nonpartisan Milwaukee voter advocacy group that is run exclusively by volunteers, mostly retirees. They pass out informational literature and register voters outside local supermarkets and food pantries, at bus stops, on college campuses and on public sidewalks or outside any business that gives them permission.

“Everybody has to eat, and what we’re trying to do is go where people are instead of expecting them to come to us,” she told Bolts. The group’s flier for the supreme court race does not advocate for a candidate but identifies issues with a series of questions, such as “Is the 1849 abortion ban right for Wisconsin today?” and “What regulations are right for tap water?”

Supermarket Legends focuses on low-turnout areas and wherever “people don’t have a lot of resources,” Sundstrom said. They pay attention to where other groups are working and “try to fill in the gaps.” Right now, she said, the biggest gap is on the near-south side, a predominantly Latinx area where voter turnout outside of major elections is typically very low. 

Sundstrom described her group’s work in a ward where only 29 people voted in February, which is only 6 percent of registered voters. “One person standing in front of El Rey Supermarket on the south side can talk to 60, 70 people an hour, face to face,” Sundstrom said. 

Sylvia Ortiz-Velez is a Democratic lawmaker who represents the Wisconsin Assembly district with the highest share of Latinx residents in Wisconsin. Two weeks out from the runoff, she was canvassing her constituents in Milwaukee’s Polonia neighborhood, which is located about three miles south of the El Rey supermarket. Voter turnout is reliably higher in this neighborhood—26 percent in the primary—as is household income.

Going door to door is a way to reach the registered voters who regularly vote because they are the “lower-hanging fruit” of any get-out-the-vote campaign, she said. Plus “you learn a lot about what’s landing.”

At one house, the barrel-chested 64-year-old who opened his door to Ortiz-Velez already had his mind made up about the two candidates. “Get rid of ’em both. They’re wishy-washy. We need law and order,” he told her. He was wearing a National Latino Peace Officers Association T-shirt. He said Protasiewicz is too soft on crime, echoing GOP attacks. He called Kelly, who was paid by state Republicans to advise them in a covert scheme to overturn the 2020 election, “a crook.”

Then he added: “The one thing I like about (Protasiewicz) is giving women their rights.”

This comment surprised Ortiz-Velez. “In my district, abortion might come up, but it might not come up. It’s not something I would lead with,” she told Bolts. “Most of the people in our community make maybe $35,000 per year and work very hard for their families and they’ve always had to do a lot with less.” If she has time, she said she’ll “absolutely talk” with voters about gerrymandering, rigged district maps and voter access.

Here in Polonia, Ortiz-Velez made sure to mention that Protasiewicz is homegrown—she grew up on the south side, her parents are buried in a nearby cemetery and she attends a Catholic church about eight blocks away.

As she walked, she consulted a canvassing app on her phone called MiniVAN. It tells her the name, age and voting history of registered voters on the block. 

“Back in the day we put this all on index cards,” she said.

Ortiz-Velez has been canvassing in the district for over 20 years. Some things have not changed. “My father was an evangelist and he always told me, ‘Smile, smile, smile,’” she said outside one house while waiting for an answer at the door.

The post “This Election Is So Quiet”: Inside the Scramble to Mobilize Milwaukee in a High-Stakes Judge Race appeared first on Bolts.

Smith, an appointee of Republican Governor Ron DeSantis, lost his re-election bid on Tuesday in Hillsborough County (Tampa). This blue-tilting region, long viewed as a national bellwether, was just stripped of its prosecutor by DeSantis over his defense of abortion.

After a campaign dominated by his decision in the January abortion case, Smith was ousted by Nancy Jacobs, a local attorney in private practice. Although the election was nonpartisan, vote breakdowns suggest that Smith drew support from GOP voters while Jacobs was backed by Democrats. 

The campaign broke the mold of Florida’s judicial elections, where the local establishment typically rallies to easily carry incumbents across the finish line. The editorial board of the Tampa Bay Times, which backed Joe Biden in 2020, endorsed Smith as well as the other sitting circuit court judge on the ballot this week, lauding Smith for the “respect he shows litigants in his court” even as it acknowledged issues in the abortion decision. (The other incumbent judge easily won.) Even the county’s elected chief public defender, Democrat Julianne Holt, endorsed Smith, though she ultimately pulled her support as the race became contentious in the final stretch.

Further south, in Miami-Dade County, James Bush, the only Democratic lawmaker who voted for Florida’s 15-week abortion ban, was ousted in a primary by challenger Ashley Gantt. Bush, who frequently sided with Republicans, was also the only Democrat who supported the recent law against discussion of gender identity and sexual orientation in Florida classrooms.

These twin results speak to the shockwaves felt both within Democratic politics and the general electorate ever since the Supreme Court overturned federal protections for abortion in June. Also on Tuesday, Democrats unexpectedly held a congressional seat in an upstate New York district that Joe Biden narrowly carried two years ago, adding to a streak of overperformances for the party since Dobbs; some Democrats also pointed to abortion as a factor in their win over the district attorney of Tennessee’s Shelby County earlier this month. 

John Fox, a Tampa-based Democratic operative who runs a PAC called Progressive Youth that campaigned against Smith, said the results in Florida show abortion rights is motivating voters.

“Abortion is a huge issue,” Fox told Bolts. “Voters are seeking out information on it, and anytime you can link that to voters’ minds in a genuine way, I think it’s going to be a winning issue.”

But Fox also stressed that those links are often obscure when it comes to the role of local officials, despite the mountain of races where abortion is on the line this year. Fox said he first made the connection to Smith’s race when he read about the judge’s January decision, but said it was hard for him to convince people to pay attention to such a downballot race. “These races are just so low information,” he told Bolts. “The chance that your life is going to be affected by a bad judge is significantly higher risk than a bad state House member or state Senator, and nobody really kind of knows what’s going on.”

Progessive Youth sent mailers to voters that hit Smith for ruling “based on his religious beliefs—not the law.” Another mailer sent by the same organization was specific to the Jane Doe case, stating, “Judge Jared Smith thinks women are too dumb to make their own bodily choices.”

Smith sought to save his job by rallying religious conservatives. “I’m a believer, I’m a judge and I’m a Christian,” he declared while campaigning in a church. Smith is also associated with a group that attacked Jacobs for having a “woke” agenda, Creative Loafing Tampa Bay reported earlier this month. 

“I think the only religion that belongs in the courtroom is the rule of law,” Jacobs told Bolts on Wednesday when asked about Smith’s comments.

But Smith’s record also testifies to the vast authority local officials already wielded over people’s access to abortion before Dobbs, let alone now. 

Smith’s decision in the January case was overturned by an appeals court that ruled he had abused his discretion in holding that “Jane Doe” was too immature to be granted a waiver from parental notification laws. But the very fact that he heard the teenager’s plea stems from restrictions Florida adopted that empower local judges to arbitrarily bestow reproductive rights upon specific teenagers, in a process known as “judicial bypass.” An investigation published by Mother Jones in 2014 documented how conservative laws combine with local anti-abortion judges in Florida to close the door for hundreds of minors every year. 

Jacobs would not comment to Bolts on Smith’s decision in January beyond pointing to the appeals court ruling that faulted his reasoning. She also stressed that she would apply Florida’s laws on abortion regardless of what they may be. 

Florida has not banned abortion at the moment, and for now a state supreme court precedent bars such a ban, but the state is currently implementing a 15-week ban, and the conservative supreme court could revisit its precedent. The state also has plenty of restrictions like a parental notification mandate that led to Smith’s decision in January.

Smith’s defeat also comes just weeks after DeSantis suspended the Democratic prosecutor Hillsborough County voters elected in 2016 and 2020, Andrew Warren, and replaced him with a conservative ally, Susan Lopez, who has promptly rolled back reforms put in place by her predecessor. In justifying his decision, which Warren is now challenging in court, DeSantis pointed to Warren’s public statement that he would not prosecute abortion cases. 

In ousting Smith, whom DeSantis appointed to his circuit court seat in 2019, Hillsborough voters signaled their distaste for the anti-abortion policies that the governor is only escalating. 

But DeSantis was more successful in other primaries on Tuesday in his quest to  reshape the state to his liking. DeSantis pushed to move local school boards to the right, endorsing and campaigning for candidates who express alarm about discussions of racism and the rights of LGBTQ students. Most of the candidates he endorsed across the state prevailing on Tuesday, including two in Miami-Dade, the state’s most populous county. Two of three school board candidates he endorsed in Hillsborough County also won.

A rare DeSantis failure in those school board races occurred in Alachua County (Gainesville), where  the governor had also ousted an elected official out under controversial circumstances. Diyonne McGraw, a former school board member who was removed from her position by the governor over objections to her residency in 2021 (those objections are no longer operative, according to The Alligator), won her old seat back, beating the conservative school board member the governor had appointed to replace her. 

In November, DeSantis will face Charlie Crist, a former Republican governor turned Democratic member of Congress. Crist, who supports abortion rights, cinched the Democratic nomination for governor on Tuesday. November will also decide control of the state legislature, an attorney general race that pits a Republican incumbent against  a former Democratic prosecutor who was herself targeted by a GOP governor over her reform stance, as well as the retention of five of the seven justices on Florida’s conservative Supreme Court.

Hundreds of thousands of Floridians will be barred from voting in those elections as a result of Florida’s extremely harsh felony disenfranchisement rules, including if they are too poor to pay off their court debt. DeSantis announced last week that a new elections police force set up this year was indicting people who erroneously registered to vote local Republicans in the state have already been prosecuting people for months for registering when they owed court debt, even though the state does not provide information to voters regarding their eligibility. 

Still, Fox is urging Floridians to pay attention and engage with local elections, like races for judge. “One of the lessons that people learned ever since 2016 is sometimes you just gotta—nobody is coming to the rescue,” he said. “If you see something and it bothers you, sometimes you just got to do it.”

The post Voters Oust Florida Judge Who Denied Teenager’s Abortion Request Because of Bad Grades appeared first on Bolts.

Three of the court’s four rulings came down in narrow 4-3 decisions, all along party lines with the four Democratic justices banding together and the three Republicans dissenting. (One Republican crossed over in the final case.) Each of the Democrats wrote for the majority in one of the four rulings, signaling their broad agreement that state practices are in need of change.

This shake up highlighted the importance of Michigan’s upcoming Supreme Court elections, which could flip the court’s partisan balance. Democrats currently enjoy a 4-3 advantage on the court, but one justice from each party is running for re-election in November. The Republican justice on the ballot, Brian Zahra, dissented in all four cases and made it clear in his opinions the lengths to which he would go to make punishment harsher in Michigan.

The decisions come as some progressives look to state courts as one possible workaround for the conservative control of the federal bench. On matters ranging from abortion to criminal justice, state courts can provide greater protections than those the U.S. Supreme Court finds in the federal constitution by turning to state statutes or state constitutional provisions.

Michigan’s court decided the four cases by building on U.S. Supreme Court decisions, but they relied on the Michigan Constitution and Michigan laws to go further than the U.S. Supreme Court has gone—and has signaled it will go with its current membership. 

The U.S. Supreme Court restricted harsh sentences against children in a series of major rulings between 2005 and 2016. The court first banned imposing the death penalty on minors and life sentences without the possibility of parole (called LWOP) for non-homicide cases. Then, in a 2012 ruling (Miller v. Alabama), the court barred mandatory LWOP sentences for any crimes, including first-degree murder, committed by people under 18; four years later, in Montgomery v. Louisiana the court held that Miller decision applied retroactively, and that people already sentenced under a mandatory LWOP law should have an opportunity for a different outcome.

Under a mandatory sentencing scheme, any minor who is convicted of certain acts is automatically handed an LWOP sentence, with no additional consideration. The U.S. Supreme Court, in these rulings, held that LWOP is so extreme that, before subjecting a child to it, a court has to at least consider whether the acts reflect “permanent incorrigibility” rather than “transient immaturity.” The court did not bar sentencing minors to LWOP, but it opened a door for many who expected to die in prison and limited future LWOP sentences.

Michigan was heavily impacted by the Miller and Montgomery rulings, due to the large number of minors handed mandatory LWOP sentences in the state. As of 2015, when Montgomery was heard, Michigan had 368 incarcerated people in that category. Only Pennsylvania, a state known for very aggressive life sentences, had more.

In implementing the decisions, the Michigan legislature eliminated mandatory LWOP sentences for acts a person committed while a minor. It also allowed for anyone sentenced to a mandatory LWOP sentence as a child to be resentenced under the new rules. 

Still, many other states have gone much further over the past decade by entirely abolishing LWOP sentences for minors. Michigan has not. Incarcerated Michiganders who get a new day in court are entitled to have their sentence reconsidered, but they can end up with a new LWOP sentence—and many local prosecutors have fought to ensure that they do.

In the years since, reform advocates have kept fighting to reduce the scope of these sentences, including by electing prosecutors who promise to not fight resentencing hearings and filing new lawsuits to chip away at the sentences. And they scored successes in court last month.

In its first 4-3 case, the Michigan Supreme Court ruled that it is unconstitutional under Michigan’s constitution to sentence a minor to life without parole for second-degree murder. Chief Justice Bridget Mary McCormack explained that the Michigan Constitution’s bar on “cruel or unusual punishments” provides “slightly broader protection” than the U.S. Constitution’s Eighth Amendment bar on “cruel and unusual punishments”—“not surprisingly given the plain meaning of conjunctions.” 

The notion that this distinction—between “or” and “and”—makes Michigan’s constitution more protective was not a new argument; it is the court’s longstanding position, fleshed out into a test for the court to apply decades ago and established even earlier. In People v. Lorentzen, a 1972 decision, the court held that a mandatory minimum sentence of 20 years for the sale of marijuana is unconstitutional due to Michigan’s “cruel or unusual” provision: “The prohibition of punishment that is unusual but not necessarily cruel carries an implication that unusually excessive imprisonment is included in that prohibition.”

The court has since adhered to this critical holding. But Zahra, the Republican justice who wrote the primary dissenting opinion in the case, made it clear he wants to change this. The court should “revisit whether the textual difference between [the Michigan Constitution] and the Eighth Amendment translates into a greater protection under the Michigan Constitution,” he wrote. Zahra’s move prompted McCormack to write a separate opinion detailing the history of the court’s approach.  And that in turn prompted Zahra to lambast McCormack. “Chief Justice McCormack embraces a cafeteria-style approach to constitutional interpretation,” he wrote at one point.

In a second decision, written by Justice Megan Cavanagh, the court increased the burden on prosecutors who are looking to sentence a minor to LWOP. The court ruled 4-3 that a prosecutor must prove that they are not seeking a disproportionate sentence. In plain English, the court held that Michigan’s legislature had made it clear that it was the prosecutor’s decision to seek LWOP, and, as such, it was up to the prosecutor to prove that it’s justified and not the defendant to prove it’s not justified. (Here again, the court’s three Republican justices dissented.)

The court’s third and fourth decisions, issued on the same day, brought the logic of shielding children from mandatory LWOP into new spaces—in one case to protect slightly older teenagers, and in another to question other types of harsh sentences.

In the third case, the court considered the mandatory LWOP sentence that was imposed on a teenager who was already 18 at the time of his crime, and so was no longer covered by the protections afforded under the Miller and Montgomery rulings. Even so, the court ruled in another 4-3 opinion that the mandatory LWOP sentence that he received violated the Michigan constitution’s “proportionality” requirement and was cruel under the state’s constitution. 

The majority opinion, written by Justice Elizabeth Welch, took issue with an arbitrary cutoff age of 18 for protections for youth. “Because of the dynamic neurological changes that late adolescents undergo as their brains develop over time and essentially rewire themselves, automatic condemnation to die in prison at 18 was cruel,” she wrote. “The logic articulated in Miller about why children are different from adults for purposes of sentencing applied in equal force to 18-year-olds.“ 

The court ruled that other 18-year old defendants should also be entitled to an “individualized sentencing procedure,” rather than a mandatory sentence, when they face LWOP. But Zahra wrote in dissent to again say that he would have the court revisit its longstanding interpretation of the state constitution’s “cruel or unusual” clause.

In the fourth and final case, the court looked beyond life without parole.  It provided new protections for some Michigan youth facing other sentences that are technically lower but still very harsh.

The 5-2 decision, written by Justice Richard Bernstein, applies only to the sentencing of people convicted of the high-level crimes that are eligible for LWOP.  In those cases, the court ruled, judges must consider youth as a mitigating factor in sentencing even when LWOP isn’t being sought, and even the prosecutor is instead seeking a set number of years of prison time. (The court also ruled, though, that the sentencing court does not need to explicitly detail how it considered youth as a mitigating factor. Justice Elizabeth Clement, the one Republican to join the majority, split on one of the two cases under consideration, saying that a brief mention of the defendant’s youth at sentencing was enough. The four-justice Democratic majority disagreed and still sent it back to the lower court for further review.)

Zahra, again, wrote the dissenting opinion, arguing that the court should not “extend” Miller to cases where prosecutors are not seeking LWOP sentences. He concluded that he therefore would have upheld both of the sentences—of 40 to 60 years in prison—without any further inquiry. Clement, one of Zahra’s two fellow Republicans on the court, wrote separately, in part to counter Zahra’s claim, writing that “the majority opinion in this case” is not “extending” Miller. “Accordingly, I concur with its holding that the mitigating effects of youth must be considered during term-of-years juvenile sentencing,” she wrote.

Zahra and Bernstein are each seeking new eight-year terms this fall. Michigan’s supreme court races follow a hybrid system; partisan nomination processes are followed by general elections where candidates for all seats share a single ballot that does not note their party ID. In 2022, this means that Bernstein and Zahra will be on one ballot alongside other candidates, and the top two vote-getters will win.

Neither party has yet held its convention to nominate candidates, but Kyra Harris Bolden, a state lawmaker, will likely be the Democratic nominee and Paul Hudson, an appellate lawyer, will likely be the GOP nominee.

Democrats need only to win one of the two seats to maintain the majority, while Republicans must sweep both to flip the court. Hundreds of court cases involving minors are working their way through Michigan courts, and the high court signaled its interest in bringing new scrutiny to how youth are being treated. But whether that interest lasts beyond 2022, and perhaps pushes into new directions, now hangs in the balance.

The post Michigan Supreme Court Restricts “Cruel” Treatment of Youth in Run of Major Decisions appeared first on Bolts.

Shelby County has been notorious for punitive practices that leave people languishing in jail for years without a conviction and fuel harsh youth prosecution, largely against Black residents. Local advocates have fought for years to change the system. The county was under federal monitoring by the U.S. Department of Justice for violating the rights of Black children between 2012 and 2018. In 2018, a DOJ report found continued violations and discrimination in juvenile courts, and characterized the policies of the district attorney’s office as a “toxic combination for African-American youth.”

The local officials who oversaw that system, District Attorney Amy Weirich and Juvenile Court Judge Dan Michael, were both ousted on Thursday. The winners, Steve Mulroy in the DA race and Tarik Sugarmon in the juvenile judge race, ran on reform agendas and secured eight-year terms.

Mark Ward, a local criminal court judge, also appears to have lost his re-election bid. Ward sparked an outcry earlier this year for sentencing Pamela Moses, a Black activist who was erroneously told by a state agency that she was eligible to register to vote, to six years in prison. That case was prosecuted by Weirich’s office, and Moses decried the aggressive charges as a scare tactic.

“I’m very excited,” Raumesh Akbari, a Democratic state senator from Memphis who champions criminal justice reform, told Bolts as she was leaving Mulroy’s victory party. “I think it’s a new day in Shelby County, with a new district attorney and new juvenile court judge, and it’s gonna be a totally different approach to how we handle the criminal justice system in Shelby County.” 

Weirich, a Republican, won her last DA race, in 2014, by a nearly two to one margin. While Shelby is a blue-leaning county, Tennessee holds general elections for local offices over the summer, and the resulting lower turnout can scramble expectations. But on Thursday, Mulroy, a Democrat, defeated Weirich by a margin of 56 to 44 percent. In the nonpartisan race for juvenile judge, Sugarmon won by 10 percentage points, in a rematch of the race he lost in 2014.

The DA race is one of the first elections to take place in the wake of the U.S. Supreme Court’s Dobbs decision overturning federal protections for abortion rights. A ban on abortions is now in effect in Tennessee, which Mulroy pointed to as a critical issue for the campaign. He attacked Weirich for lobbying on behalf of a “fetal assault” bill in the past, and vowed that prosecuting abortion cases would be a “very low priority” for his office. He has not outright ruled out such charges, saying in part that taking a blanket stance may trigger retaliation by GOP politicians; on the same day as Mulroy’s win, the governor of Florida indefinitely suspended a local prosecutor who said he would not prosecute abortions.

Akbari told Bolts that she thinks abortion “definitely made a difference” in the race, noting that Tennesseans voted just two days after Kansas rejected an effort to erode abortion rights. “This is a big deal that impacts women and families across this country.”

The DA race also unfolded in the wake of the prosecution against Moses. Faced with the state’s extremely strict and complicated felony disenfranchisement laws, Moses had received written guidance from a state agency that she was eligible to get her voting rights restored, but when she acted on that guidance that turned out to be erroneous, Weirich’s office threw the book at her andWard sentenced her to six years in prison after accusing her of “tricking” the probation’s office. After The Guardian’s Sam Levine revealed holes in the case, Ward overturned the conviction and Weirich dropped the charges.

“I think the goal was to scare people, but it could boomerang,” Moses told Bolts in March after being released from prison. Ward and Weirich both lost their races on Thursday.

In voiding Moses’s conviction in February, Ward faulted Weirich for failing to disclose evidence that Moses had been told by a probation officer she was eligible to vote. Weirich’s office has drawn attention from the Tennessee Board of Professional Responsibility and from the media for withholding evidence in the past, including in a New York Times Magazine investigation in 2017.

Local and national advocates told Bolts that the case against Moses was a window into other patterns of harsh and unequal treatment in Shelby County as well. They fault the DA’s office and local judges for overcharging defendants, imposing a harsh “trial penalty,” and for ramping up pretrial detention. Human rights organizations have denounced local bail practices as discriminatory and unconstitutional, and a report released last year by a court-appointed inspector documented that people are held pretrial in the county jail “for months or years.”

Mulroy ran for DA on planks associated with criminal justice reform, including working to reduce pretrial detention and decreasing  the volume of prosecutions for lower-level charges like drug possession. He told Bolts in a phone interview this spring that the DA’s office should not have prosecuted Moses and that, as DA, he would try to counter any chilling effect felt by residents who are unsure about their voter eligibility.

Mulroy said that he wanted to confront the “demonstrated recent history of racial discrimination in our justice system,” telling Bolts that, “I think any district attorney should make it a high priority to try to reduce the obvious and blatant racial disproportionality in our criminal justice system. That goes double for somebody in Shelby County.”

“Excessive bail and excessive seeking of pretrial detention, along with adult transfer of juvenile cases, have a hugely disproportionate minority contact rate,” he added.

The disparities in prosecution and sentencing extend into the electoral realm due to felony disenfranchisement rules. 21 percent of Black Tennesseans were stripped of the right to vote in 2020, compared to 7 percent of other adults, which barred thousands of Shelby County residents from voting on Thursday. 

Weirich seized on her opponent’s commitments to say he would endanger safety in Shelby County, and she ran a campaign centered on promises of law and order. “I believe violent offenders should go to prison,” she wrote on Facebook last week. “If you do too, please vote for me.”

“The most dangerous words in Shelby County would be ‘DA Steve Mulroy,’” that statement also said.

But Weirich’s critics scoffed at the implication that her policies were more effective to bring public safety, and point out that violent crime and murders have increased since she came into office. “If what they’re doing, this tough on crime stance was working, then there wouldn’t be a need to have reform,” Akbari said. “It’s not. It’s costing states, cities and counties an exceptional amount of money. Lives are destroyed by it, communities are destroyed by it.” 

The county’s treatment of Black children was a central theme in Mulroy and Sugarmon’s campaigns. Besides the DOJ’s 2018 report on systemic rights violations, local advocates from organizations such as Memphis for All and Just City have assailed continued disparate treatment, and earlier this year they demanded a racial equity audit of local decisions. Data released by the county shows, for instance, that Black youths were held in pretrial detention nearly three times as often as white youths in 2021. And nearly every single minor who gets prosecuted as an adult, facing far tougher sentences, is Black; the raw numbers are high, too, as Shelby County prosecutes far more children as adults than other counties.

In Tennessee, the DA seeks a child’s transfer into adult courts, and the juvenile court judge then decides on the transfer. This judge also gets to appoint the magistrates who hear the cases.

Michael, the juvenile court judge who lost his re-election bid on Thursday, resisted the federal monitoring, calling for it to end until Trump administration officials granted his wish and ended the oversight in 2018. He defended his record against critics during the campaign. “It’s a very, very difficult decision to make,” he said of his decisions to transfer children into adult court. 

Sugarmon, the victorious candidate against Michael, has called for the DOJ to resume its monitoring. He told MLK50 that he would allow fewer children to be transferred into adult court, and that he wants fewer children to be prosecuted in the first place. Black children were nearly five times more likely than white children to have cases referred to the juvenile court in 2021.

Mulroy echoes Sugarmon on the issue. “I think we also need to call for the U.S. Justice Department to resume its monitoring of our juvenile court,” he told Bolts. 

The incoming DA has not ruled out seeking adult prosecutions of minors, though he told the Daily Memphian, “we would create a strong presumption against transfer. Absent some very, very severe circumstances, adult transfer needs to be a last resort.” 

To Akbari, the election results prove that local residents are looking for a change from the status quo. “It’s easy to just throw somebody in jail. It’s hard work to actually do reform and get to the root of what causes crime, and to make sure that juvenile offenders do not become adult offenders,” she said. “And I think this vote proves that people are ready for something different. You can’t keep doing the same thing and expecting different results.”

The post Memphis Ousts DA and Judge Who Oversaw Its Notoriously Harsh Court System appeared first on Bolts.

If the U.S. Supreme Court strikes down Roe vs. Wade, the right to access abortion will stay protected in Kansas—at least for now—because of a recent ruling by its state supreme court. The North Carolina Supreme Court struck down Republican gerrymanders earlier this year, producing fairer midterm maps. And last year, Washington State’s supreme court restricted sentences of life without parole for youth beyond what the U.S. Supreme Court has established. 

Judges grounded all of these decisions in their state constitutions. As conservatives flex their stronghold on the federal bench to unravel decades of constitutional protections, state courts can offer alternative paths for civil rights litigation. Inversely, some state courts are proving as zealously conservative as the U.S. Supreme Court, as when Louisiana’s high court effectively restricted the right to protest earlier this year.

The midterm elections are now poised to reshuffle many supreme courts. Voters will elect dozens of justices all around the country, expanding or restricting these courts’ viability as a counter-weight to federal judges.

These elections will decide many of the judges who will hear election law cases in 2024, when former President Donald Trump could once again push to overturn election results. They may also hear many more cases dealing with reproductive rights if the end of Roe makes each state responsible for determining the legality of abortion.

The stakes are most transparent in the four states where the partisan balance of their supreme courts is on the line this fall—Illinois, Michigan, North Carolina, and Ohio.

But the 2022 cycle could also shift jurisprudence across the country if the fragile balance of power is altered in some state supreme courts. In Arkansas, Montana, and New Mexico, for instance, conservative lawyers are running to push the bench further to the right. In Washington State, justices who have formed a narrow progressive bloc are up for re-election.

Most states with supreme court elections this year organize them as regular elections, namely races where multiple candidates face off against each other. Other states straddle a middle ground between appointed and elected judiciaries, with appointed judges facing so-called retention elections, which are up-and-down votes without challengers. It is exceedingly rare for justices to be ousted in retention elections—in fact, in some states this has never happened—though this is at least an avenue for major upheavals this fall in populous states such as Arizona, California, and Florida, if organizing on the left or right were to pick-up. 

This breakdown from Bolts walks you through each state’s supreme court elections, telling you who’s running at this stage and why the race could matter. 

As the year progresses, new resignations and vacancies could spark new judicial elections, or even cancel them. Ballotpedia’s database can keep you up-to-date.

States with regular supreme court elections

Alabama

A longtime election lawyer for Republicans, Greg Cook is now sowing doubt about the handling of the 2020 election and blaming other state supreme courts for allowing expanded voting options that year. These Trumpian concerns are a major reason he is running to replace a retiring Alabama justice this year, he says. In the May Republican primary, Cook defeated lower-court judge Debra Jones, who also tied herself to the former president, in the Republican primary. He will be favored against Democrat Anita Kelly in the November general election given the state’s politics.

In the state’s second supreme court election, Republican Justice Kelli Wise drew no challenger.

Arkansas

Arkansas’s supreme court elections are ostensibly nonpartisan—but in the May 24 elections, candidates with close ties to the GOP hope to push the court to the right. 

Justice Karen Baker faces Gunner DeLay, a lower-court judge and former Republican lawmaker. DeLay, besides touting his conservative politics, is using the old-school tactic of attacking Baker over a vote she took to vacate a murder conviction. (The court found in that case that a charge had been filed in the wrong jurisdiction.) And one of the two challengers to Justice Robin Wynne is the former executive director of the state Republican Party, Chris Carnahan. (A third justice, Rhonda Wood, is unopposed.)

Update (Sept. 26): Baker defeated DeLay on May 24, but Carnahan forced Wynne in a November runoff, Bolts reported.

Georgia 

On paper, the 2022 cycle had the potential to rock Georgia’s supreme court: Four seats, a majority of seats on the court, were meant to be on the ballot at once. But by the time the filing deadline passed, one of those four elections was canceled, and two incumbents recently appointed by Governor Brian Kemp had drawn no opponent. 

The reason: A “dystopian” loophole that allows Georgia officials to game the system by delaying elections at the last minute, pulling the rug out from under challengers late into a campaign—as state Republicans did in 2018. The gambit appears to be having a chilling effect on candidates’ willingness to jump in.  

As the state’s supreme court moves further to the right, at least on criminal justice issues, this legal loophole helps Republicans lock down a conservative bench as long as they have the governorship. The one justice who faces an opponent in the May election is Verda Colvin, against Veronica Brinson.

Idaho

Justices Robyn Brody and Colleen Zahn will each be unopposed as they seek a new term. 

Even though it is mostly made up of Republican appointees, this supreme court has protected progressives’ efforts to use direct democracy to circumvent the GOP-run state government. In 2019, it ruled against a conservative lawsuit seeking to invalidate a ballot initiative that expanded Medicaid; last summer, it struck down a Republican law that would have made it significantly harder to qualify an initiative on the ballot. Zahn just joined the court in the summer of 2021 and took part in neither of those decisions; Brody was part of the majority in the latter ruling.

Illinois

Partisan control of the Illinois supreme court could flip, and Republicans had to score an unlikely win just to get this far. A Democratic justice lost an up-or-down retention vote in 2020 and had to leave the court, which triggered an extra election to replace him this year. Two seats are on the ballot, and Republicans would seize control of the court—and with it the power to revisit the state’s Democratic gerrymanders, among other state issues like pension reform—if they win both.

Illinois justices are elected by district rather than statewide, which helps Republicans as neither of the two elections that will decide the court’s partisan balance involves any voter from heavily Democratic Cook County. (The state constitution gives Cook County three supreme court seats, and the rest of the state gets four.) Democrats redrew the judicial map last year for the first time since the 1960s; the 2nd district (Lake, Kane, McHenry, Kendall and DeKalb counties) and 3rd district (Bureau, DuPage, Grundy, Kankakee, Iroquois, LaSalle, Will counties) will decide the court’s balance. 

Separately, one Illinois justice from each party is facing a retention election. 

Kentucky

Joseph Fischer, a Republican lawmaker who has led the fight to pass abortion restrictions in the Kentucky legislature, is now running for a seat on the state supreme court. He is challenging Michelle Keller, a Democratic-appointed justice, in the sixth district, in northern Kentucky. That election is one of several that will decide this supreme court’s membership this year, since two justices are not seeking re-election in the second and fourth districts. Kentucky’s high court has been an active player in the battles between the Democratic governor and Republican legislature, for instance in its unanimous ruling last year reinstating a law that limited the governor’s public health emergency powers.

But the biggest fireworks in Kentucky’s judicial elections may be found in the very local election for the circuit court of Franklin County, a small jurisdiction that has outsized importance for civil rights and voting rights and has drawn the attention of U.S. Senator Mitch McConnell, as Bolts reported in February. 

Louisiana

The Louisiana Supreme Court issued a 6-1 ruling earlier this year that makes protesters guilty by association, threatening the right to protest. And conservatives’ stronghold on the court is sure to continue after 2022. The one justice due to face voters this year is John Weimer, who joined the majority in that ruling, and who represents the 6th judicial district, a large coastal area in the southeast of Louisiana. Weimer faced no opponent in his prior two elections in 2002 and 2012; the filing deadline for 2022 has not yet passed. 

Update (Sept. 26): No one filed to challenge Weimer by the filing deadline for the third consecutive cycle. Weimer has thereby secured another term.

Michigan

The 2022 elections will decide nothing less than who controls the state supreme court in one of the nation’s premier swing states during the 2024 presidential race. And since allies of Donald Trump who trot out his Big Lie are trying to take over the machinery of election administration in Michigan, this supreme court may come to play an exceptionally important role at that time. The court’s majority will also be critical on criminal justice issues given a new slate of party-line decisions this year.

Democrats currently enjoy a 4-3 majority on the court. One justice from each party faces voters this year (Richard Bernstein and Brian Zahra, respectively). Republicans need to win both seats to regain control of the court.

Minnesota

Natalie Hudson and Gordon Moore, who are both justices appointed by Democratic governors, are up for re-election this year. Minnesota’s supreme court elections appear as nonpartisan on the ballot, and incumbents have easily won all elections held over the last decade. 

Update (Sept. 26): No one filed to run against either Hudson or Moore.

Montana

Conservatives want more control over Montana’s judiciary, and they have tried (unsuccessfully so far) to change election rules. This year, they are taking aim at both supreme court justices on the ballot, Democratic-appointed Ingrid Gayle Gustafson and GOP-appointed James Rice. 

Gustafson in particular faces an opponent who enjoys strong support from the state’s Republican officials: Jim Brown, a former counsel for the state’s Republican Party, as well as for a group that took down the state’s election disclosure laws. (A lower-court judge, Mike McMahon, is running in this election as well.) Montana’s supreme court is now at the center of the state’s latest voting rights disputes, as it’s long been, adding special importance to this showdown.

Nevada

Incumbent judges frequently go unopposed, and that will be the case this year for Justice Ron Parraguirre. But what’s more surprising is that the retirement of Justice James Hardesty has also occasioned no contest: Linda Bell, a lower court judge who has worked as a federal public defender and as a local prosecutor, is the only candidate and will join the state’s highest court. 

New Mexico

New Mexico’s state supreme court, which is currently entirely made up of Democratic justices, is sure to keep its Democratic majority this fall. But Republicans could narrow their deficit; Justices Julie Vargas and Briana Zamora, both appointees of Governor Michelle Lujan Grisham, will face GOP challengers Thomas Montoya and Kerry Morris, respectively. 

In a letter touting his candidacy, Morris casts Montoya and himself as “conservative voices,” and frames his bid as an answer “to the power of George Soros and Zucker Bucks [in reference to Mark Zuckerberg] to control the elections in New Mexico.” As Bolts reported in March, some on the right are fomenting conspiracies tying election funding to Soros and Zuckerberg, both of whom are Jewish, often spuriously.

North Carolina

The math is simple but the stakes are high in North Carolina. Democratic justices hold four of seven Supreme Court seats but they must defend two this year. If a Republican flips just one of them, they would gain control of the court. 

Given the state’s recent history, a partisan flip would affect the outcome of major civil rights cases. In recent years, the Democratic-majority court has voted on party lines to struck down GOP gerrymanders expanded the scope of racial discrimination appeals in the criminal legal system. It is now considering the constitutionality of the state’s felony disenfranchisement statutes in a case that may restore voting rights to tens of thousands of North Carolinians.

Depending on the outcome, Democrats may rue the 2020 cycle, when Democratic Chief Justice Cheri Beasley lost her re-election race by just 401 votes.

North Dakota

Justice Daniel Crothers is running for a new 10-year term unopposed, just like the last two times he faced voters, now that the filing deadline has passed for anyone to challenge him.

Ohio

Ohio’s highest court struck down Republican gerrymanders on 4-3 votes this year, with the three Democratic justices who prevailed in 2018 and 2020 in the majority, joined by Republican Chief Justice Maureen O’Connor. 

But everything is now on the line in 2022. Three seats are on the ballot, and all are now held by Republican justices, so Democrats have a shot at grabbing a majority of the court. But the court could also shift to the right because O’Connor is barred from seeking re-election due to her age. This means that, if Republicans sweep the cycle’s three elections, and even if these would all be partisan holds, it would likely tip the balance toward them in future redistricting cases, and re-open the gerrymandering floodgates.

One twist: The only Democrat running for O’Connor’s chief justice seat is Jennifer Brunner, who is already a justice on the court. Were she to win and flip that seat for Democrats, Ohio’s Republican governor would likely get to appoint Brunner’s successor. In other words, Democrats must flip one of the other two seats—ousting either Pat Fischer or Pat DeWine, the son of the state’s governor—to be sure to seize a court majority. 

Oregon

Governor Kate Brown appointed Roger DeHoog, a lower-court judge with past experience as a public defender, to the state Supreme Court in January. The appointment was noteworthy given the dearth of justices who have worked as public defenders in state supreme courts.

DeHoog is now seeking a full 6-year term—and he is sure to win, since no one filed to challenge him.

Texas

Conservative “stop the steal” activists fell short in their effort to oust a Republican judge in the March primary; they were angry at Scott Walker’s vote late last year to limit the attorney general’s efforts to investigate voter fraud. Now, it’s time for the general election. All 18 judges across the state’s two high courts are Republican, and five of them (including Walker) will face Democratic challengers in November. 

Democrats will have their work cut out for them: They haven’t won a statewide election in the state since 1994, and all the seats on the 2022 ballot (three on the Court of Criminal Appeals, which handles criminal cases, and three on the Supreme Court) feature a GOP incumbent. Of note: Two of the Democratic challengers, Erin Nowell and Amanda Reichek, are lower-court judges who beat Republican incumbents in 2018.

Washington

Washington’s supreme court has grown more progressive and diverse with Governor Jay Inslee’s appointments, with major ramifications for criminal justice. Last year, the court issued landmark rulings that expanded restrictions on life sentences, and that struck down state statutes that criminalized drug possession. (State Democrats then passed a law that makes drug possession a misdemeanor; it was a felony before the court’s ruling.) Both rulings were 5-4, a sign of the importance of court membership even in reliably Democratic-states.

Two of the justices in this emerging progressive majority, Mary Yu and Helen Whitener, have to face voters to secure new terms this year, as does a third incumbent, Barbara Madsen.

Incumbent justices seeking re-election in Washington have won very easily in recent cycles; the elections appear on the ballot as non-partisan.

Update (Sept. 26): None of the three justices who are seeking a new term this year will face an opponent on the ballot.

States that only have retention elections this year

Alaska

Daniel Winfree, the only sitting justice appointed by former Governor Sarah Palin, is technically up for retention this year, but he is set to hit the mandatory retirement age early next year anyway. Whomever is elected governor this fall will appoint Winfree’s replacement, and at least one other justice, and candidates are connecting the dots to future of abortion rights.

Arizona

Bill Montgomery built a punitive record as prosecutor of Arizona’s Maricopa County until he was nominated to the state supreme court in 2019 by the Republican governor. This year, he faces his first retention election, alongside other Republican-nominated justices. The political context is explosive: The GOP expanded the court’s size and changed the appointment procedure last decade to solidify conservative power.

On paper, all of this could all add up to a major showdown—if it weren’t so exceedingly rare for Arizona judges to fail retention elections. When voters ousted a county judge in 2014, it was the first time an Arizona judge had lost a retention election in decades. And it has not happened since.

California 

It would mark a significant break with recent history if California’s retention elections proved contentious this year. No justice has so much as dipped below two-thirds of the vote in the last two midterm cycles. Still, four justices are up for retention this year—one appointed by Arnold Schwarzenegger, another by Jerry Brown, and two by Gavin Newsom.

Progressives looking to affect the court have focused their efforts on pressuring Governor Gavin Newsom to appoint a justice with background as a public defender, which has not happened in decades in this state. But both of Newsom’s appointments have prosecutorial experience instead. 

Florida

Five of the seven justices on Florida’s supreme court are up for retention this year, including two appointed by Republican Governor Ron DeSantis. On paper, then, Democrats have a path to reverse the court’s dramatic rightward shift; also on paper, the right could push its advantage since one of the justices on the ballot, Jorge Labarga, is part of the court’s shrinking left flank.

But in practice, it would be an immense undertaking to convince the electorate to fire a justice. No judge has ever lost a retention election in Florida. 

And regardless of the ballot box, conservatives are likely to further solidify their hold on this court since Alan Lawson (one of the court’s less conservative justices) recently announced he would retire over the summer, granting DeSantis yet another appointment.

Indiana

Justice Steven David was meant to face a retention election in 2022, but he indicated instead that he would retire at the end of the year, so Indiana will host no supreme court race this year. Republican Governor Eric Holcomb will choose David’s replacement in the coming months.

Iowa

Not long ago, Iowa’s supreme court leaned liberal, as it issued a landmark ruling on same-sex marriage in 2009 and considered other progressive lawsuits. But the court has swung to the right alongside the rest of the state because conservatives ousted three justices in the 2010 cycle, and later Republican governors got to appoint many judges. The 2022 ballot features retention elections for two of GOP Governor Kim Reynolds’s appointees, Dana Oxley and Matthew McDermott, who long worked as a lawyer for Republican politicians.

Kansas

The Kansas Supreme Court ruled in 2019 that the state constitution protects access to abortion. That landmark decision, which drew just one dissenter, was the latest in a string of decisions on reproductive rights. Those battles bled into the electoral realm in 2016, when conservative groups led by Kansas for Life targeted a group of justices. But all incumbents prevailed that year by margins no smaller than 10 percentage points.  

This year, six of seven Kansas justices (three of whom joined the court after that 2019 ruling) are on the ballot in retention elections.

Conservatives are seeking another route this year to overturn the court’s rulings on reproductive rights: Kansans will vote on a constitutional amendment on August 2 that would affirm there is no right to an abortion in the state constitution, effectively overturning the court’s 2019 ruling. (If the referendum fails, though, the court’s composition will remain paramount for this issue.)

Redistricting is also on the menu: By the time these retention elections come around, the Kansas supreme court will have settled the uncertain fate of the state’s GOP gerrymander.

Maryland 

Five of the court’s seven judges have been appointed by Republican Governor Larry Hogan and confirmed by the Democratic-controlled state Senate. Hogan’s first four appointees easily cleared their retention elections in past cycles, receiving at least 75 percent of the vote. The fifth, Steven Gould, faces voters this year.

Missouri 

Two judges face voters in retention elections this year: longtime incumbent Zel Fischer, and the recently appointed Robin Ransom. Retention elections have been uneventful in Missouri’s recent history; no judge has received less than 63 percent of the vote over the past ten years, and often they win with even higher margins.

Nebraska 

Nebraskans have overwhelmingly voted to retain their supreme court justices ever since a successful campaign in 1996 to oust David Lanphier over some of his rulings, including one that gave dozens of people incarcerated over murder convictions the opportunity for new trials. There is no indication so far that this year will be any different, with four justices up for retention if they choose to seek new terms.

Oklahoma

Oklahoma’s supreme court judges have never lost a retention election, according to The Oklahoman, despite the court’s history of high-profile decisions. There’s no reason so far to suspect that 2022 will wield a different result. Up for retention this year: Two longstanding justices who have already won two retention elections, alongside two newly appointed judges.

South Dakota

In November, South Dakota’s Supreme Court struck down a voter-approved initiative that legalized marijuana. The decision could become a campaign issue, considering two of the four justices who issued that ruling are facing voters in a retention election this year.

Tennessee 

Tennessee’s Supreme Court has already shifted rightward in 2022: In January, Governor Bill Lee appointed Sarah Campbell, a conservative jurist and former clerk for Samuel Alito, to replace one of the court’s only two Democratic-appointed justices, who passed away in the fall. 

As recently as 2014, a majority of justices were appointees of a Democratic governor. That year, conservatives launched a major offensive to oust them, but all incumbents prevailed that year by double-digits. Republicans have controlled the governor’s mansion since 2011, though, and they have been able to change the court’s composition through appointments.

The only remaining Democratic-appointed justice, Sharon Lee, is up for retention this year, as is Campbell and other justices. 

Utah

Utah justices facing retention elections over the past decade have all won with at least 75 percent of the vote, which bodes well for Justice Paige Petersen in her retention election this year. The bigger upheaval this year is that GOP Governor Spencer Cox gets to fill two vacancies, including one triggered by the retirement of Thomas Lee, brother of U.S. Senator Mike Lee.

The post Your State-by-State Guide to the 2022 Supreme Court Elections appeared first on Bolts.

It was 2020, the height of the pandemic, amid broad-based efforts to get as many people out of jails and prisons as possible. The prosecutor wasn’t even in the courtroom—she was calling in on Zoom due to COVID-19 safety protocols. But none of that seemed to matter to the judge on the case, who ordered Slotky Reitano’s client to jail after he showed up late to his court date.

Slotky Reitano eventually got the case dismissed and secured her client’s release, but something about the experience—the trivial nature of the charge, the way the judge seemed to want to punish him—stuck with her. What if someone else had been on the bench that day? “I think criminal courts, in particular, are very dehumanizing,” she told Bolts. “And they don’t have to be.” 

Now, Slotky Reitano is running to become a judge on the Los Angeles County Superior Court. While each judicial seat is fought over in a separate election, she has formed an informal campaign ticket with three other progressive candidates—Holly Hancock and Elizabeth Lashley-Haynes, who are also public defenders, and Carolyn “Jiyoung” Park, a plaintiff’s attorney with background in civil rights and labor law. Each member of the slate faces a crowded field in their own race, with between two and five opponents. If no candidate gets above 50 percent in the June 7 primary, the top two vote-getters will move to a November general election. 

The four candidates on this progressive slate all say they are running because they believe that judges should use their power to take aim at mass incarceration, rather than reinforce it. They also are hoping to disrupt the prosecutor-to-judge pipeline that dominates courts in Los Angeles and across the nation. 

“We need judges who are going to do something different than send everyone to prison,” Lashley-Haynes told Bolts.“We need judges that recognize and appreciate addiction programs, mental health programs, rehabilitation programs—we need judges that are going to implement restorative justice.” 

These unconventional candidacies are the fruit of a growing movement in Los Angeles that aims to connect the dots between judges and broader efforts to reform the criminal legal system, spearheaded by a coalition of local progressive organizations called Transforming the Judiciary. “Our work is to demystify the law for folks, to bring more community voices into the courts, so that we can leverage power,” said Titilayọ Rasaki, who works on policy at La Defensa, an organization dedicated to ending pretrial incarceration that is part of the coalition alongside other organizations like Court Watch LA and Ground Game LA, and the public defender’s union. In 2021, La Defensa launched a site called “Rate My Judge” that invites Los Angeles residents to share their experiences with local judges.

“We need to understand that the judiciary is really the heart of the matter—the heart of mass incarceration,” Rasaki said.

Rasakialso said that they ran an in-depth interview process gauging candidates’ interest in alternatives to incarceration and work in the community before endorsing the four members of the progressive slate, which calls itself “The Defenders of Justice.” Brittani Nichols, an organizer with Ground Game LA, told Bolts that the coalition is hosting a series of campaign events for these candidates, and that it may help them canvass as well. 

Similar bids to “flip the bench” and elevate progressive judges are taking root in other parts of the country. In recent years, slates of public defenders and other outsider candidates have run—often successfully—on decarceral platforms in Las Vegas, New Orleans, and Pittsburgh, among other places.

But efforts to organize around these offices are also running up against the stark fact that judicial elections are some of the most opaque and sparsely covered races in American politics. “It’s nearly impossible to hold those judges to account when no one understands what they do or who they are,” Nichols said. Sitting judges in Los Angeles County often run unopposed, a reality that Hancock, who first ran, unsuccessfully, in 2018, called “appalling.”

It is also often difficult to differentiate between candidates. For one thing, there’s just not that much information available to voters. Slotky Reitano recalled, laughing, how a former therapist called her up and asked her advice on who to vote for in the last judicial election, assuming—incorrectly—that she might have some special insight into the merit of the various candidates. “You couldn’t even Google them!” Slotky Reitano said.

Many candidates, including those on the progressive slate, opt to invoke unobjectionable values like “fairness” and “dignity” on the campaign trail, and the California Committee for Judicial Ethics Opinions forbids judicial hopefuls from campaigning on specific promises about how they would rule. But Hancock, Lashley-Haynes, Park, and Slotky Reitano also say they share a concrete set of guiding principles that have been shaped by their professional experience representing people targeted by law enforcement. Lashley-Haynes spent four years defending minors with severe intellectual disabilities, for instance, while Hancock heads a division dedicated to expunging unhoused people’s criminal records so that they can access housing.  

In individual interviews with Bolts, all four expressed similar philosophies about the criminal legal system, including a belief that Los Angeles County spends too much money incarcerating too many people, and a commitment to using alternatives to incarceration whenever possible if elected. “Los Angeles County has the largest jail system in the nation,” said Park. “We still have crime—because we aren’t addressing the root causes of crime.” The three public defenders say that mental illness, addiction, violence, and poverty often underlie the crimes that their clients commit. “I have had many, many cases where my defendants now were victims a few years ago, and I can’t tell you the number of cases [where] my defendants were victims as children,” Lashley-Haynes said. 

All four candidates on the slate stressed that they would implement these principles by making use of pre-existing laws and programs, something they say many judges are not currently doing. “There’s a mental health diversion law on the books,” Lashley-Haynes said, “but right now in LA County, we have judges that are refusing to follow that. We have judges that are refusing to see SUD, substance use disorder, as a legitimate mental illness, even though it’s in the DSM-5.”

Over Hancock’s twelve years working as a public defender, she has found that judges she worked with were often initially resistant to implementing sentencing reforms that voters have passed over the past decade. “They fought everything,” she told Bolts. She also noted that judges often seem to accede to the desires of the prosecutor on the case: “There was just a pretty constant deference to the prosecution.” 

In Hancock’s view, these tendencies have a lot to do with the fact that most judges start out as prosecutors, a professional affiliation that can align with tougher-on-crime views. One doesn’t have to look far for examples of prosecutorial involvement in anti-reform political lobbying: in Los Angeles County, the union that represents deputy district attorneys has long fought criminal justice reforms. The union recently held a vote on whether its members wanted to recall DA George Gascón, a progressive who has dramatically shaken up criminal justice policy and clashed with other public officials since he came into office in 2020. Over 97 percent of those who voted said yes.

Many prosecutors are running for judge again this year. Across the four elections that feature the progressive slate candidates, there are eight Los Angeles deputy DAs who are also running. 

Bolts reached out to these eight candidates to ask about their views on the current reforms in Los Angeles, and whether they also believe the county resorts to too much incarceration. Two of them responded through a spokesperson with a general statement. “I believe we can seek justice and still believe in public safety,” said Sharon Ransom, who is running against Slotky Reitano in a crowded race for superior court seat #60. “Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.” Ryan Dibble, one of three candidates in judicial race #67, which also includes Lashley-Haynes, spoke of supporting alternatives for incarceration “on a case-by-case basis,” mostly for low-level charges. “My goal is to be as balanced as possible in my approach,” he told Bolts. 

There are more than 150 judicial elections on the Los Angeles County ballot in June; a handful of other public defenders are running for judgeships, though they are not part of this four-candidate progressive slate. Public defender Patrick Hare joined them at a campaign event last month.

A forthcoming study of the federal bench lends support to the notion that electing or appointing judges with a public defense background may lead to less incarceration. Political scientists Maya Sen and Allison P. Harris found that judges who have worked as public defenders are less likely to sentence defendants to prison, and more likely to hand out shorter sentences when they do. 

Judge Allison Williams, a former public defender who was recently appointed to the Sacramento Superior Court by California Governor Gavin Newsom, said she believes that public defenders’ “extensive interaction with the community and the public has given us a different perspective that I think really can enhance our system of jurisprudence.” 

Slotky Reitano agrees. Being a public defender, she said, is sort of like being a trial attorney and a social worker at the same time. “We know exactly what’s going on with most clients,” she told Bolts. “We know all about the programs that are available and the alternatives.”

Still, there has long been a stigma around public defenders seeking judgeships. “I think historically, our society said that public defenders weren’t smart enough—public defenders didn’t have the ability to be fair and impartial—public defenders had too much of a bleeding heart to become judges,” Williams said.

President Biden has changed the tide at the federal level by appointing public defenders to the bench at a record rate, culminating with his nomination of Ketanji Brown Jackson to the U.S. Supreme Court earlier this year. That momentum has yet to carry over to state courts, though, where governors still rarely appoint judges with such backgrounds. California has not had a former public defender on its state supreme court in decades.

Los Angeles organizers are hoping to forge another way.  “A person who has spent their career defending the most marginalized in our communities, they know they have to deal with a wider array of tools. They’re trying to leverage all the community resources that they have in their disposal,” said Rasaki. “That kind of perspective wearing a robe is transformative.” 

Editor’s note: During an interview with Park, the author learned that Park has helped file a class action suit on behalf of Black Lives Matter protestors who were arrested by the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department in 2020. The author was arrested by the LASD for protesting during that time period, and then talked about the events to lawyers volunteering with the National Lawyers Guild, which is an organization that among other things provides legal assistance to protesters, but is not actively involved in the litigation.

The post The Movement to Decarcerate Los Angeles Targets Judicial Elections appeared first on Bolts.