The Irony of Technology: Takeaways From #ABATECHSHOW 2012

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I'm writing this from my Chicago hotel room after just getting back from the final session at ABA TechShow® 2012, where I spent the past three days learning about, seeing, and trying the latest and greatest technology tools for practicing law. Ironically, despite the myriad gadgets and tech toys from literally all over the world, the best part of TechShow was the people. So many of us obsess over having the hippest gear, or the latest-generation iToy—we even justify the expense of it as an investment—and in doing so it's easy to lose sight of how important it is to invest in good-old-fashioned, personal relationships.

These past few days I've had the chance to talk one-on-one with folks whose books and blogs I read, whose apps I use, and with whom I tweet and email back-and-forth regularly, yet never met in person. For example, I spent time talking with Ben Schorr (@bschorr), who literally wrote the book on mastering the Microsoft Office suite in the practice of law. I talked with famed bloggers like Kevin O'Keefe (@kevinokeefe), Carolyn Elefant (@carolynelefant), and Tim Baran (@Tim_Baran). I also hung out with Mac gurus like Victor Medina (@victormedina), Ben Stevens (@themaclawyer), Ernie Svenson (@ernieattorney), and Randy Juip (@rajuip), iPad guru Tom Mighell (@TomMighell), and the original Mac Power User David Sparks a/k/a Mac Sparky. Dave also wrote the books Mac at Work and iPad at Work, which are like the Physician's Desk References to attorneys using Macs (I'd call them bibles but for fear of reprisal, especially right before Easter).

On the eve of TechShow, Matt Homann (@matthomann) of LexThink hosted a phenomenal forum in which each speaker had just 6 minutes to deliver their message about technology and the practice of law. There, I met Mark Britton (@mark_britton), CEO of Avvo.com, and Jay Shepherd (@jayshep), two incredibly dynamic speakers, both of whom are using their legal training to do great things outside the traditional practice of law. Despite how great Mark and Jay were, my personal favorite was Will Hornsby (@willhornsby), but I think that was because he mocked one of the silliest ethics rules still in effect, in New Jersey of all places.

Throughout the conference I was also speaking to guys like Brett Owens, founder and creator of Chrometa (@Chrometa), Deskspace Attorney's Nick Lightbody (@nicklightbody), and Ian O'Flaherty of Lit Software (@litsoftwareapps). Ian is the developer of one of my favorite legal tools in my arsenal—Trial Pad for iPad. I'm also anxious to try out his latest app—Transcript Pad. It's fascinating to interact with the people who actually create some of the tools I use, and to hear about how complicated it is to bring something like that to the marketplace. (Disclosure: I received a free copy of Trial Pad for purposes of writing a review.)

Although I'd met Ian before, it was great to reconnect with him, just like it was great to hang out with old friends like Andrea Cannavina a/k/a the Legal Typist, Brett Burney (@macsinlaw), Marc Matheny (@Indysoloesq), and Jack Newton (@jack_newton) and Gwynne Monahan (@econwriter5) from Clio. On Thursday night, the Clio crew threw a red-carpet bash at Chicago's Sushi Samba Rio, which was a virtual who's who in legal technology. (Disclosure: My firm uses Legal Typist's services, and I am a regular contributor to the Legal Connection eZine publication; my firm also uses Clio for practice management. I did not receive any benefit for writing this.)

So it's easy to say that I learned a lot about tech at TechShow, but thanks to these relationships, my takeaway from TechShow is so much more (human) than that. I wholly embrace technology in my life, both personal and professional. I believe that technology makes our lives richer—by increasing our efficiency, creating access to information, and enabling us to share things with friends and family we don't see often—but technology is not a substitute for human contact. Texting, tweeting, and Facebook-ing are all fantastic communication tools, but they can't replace handshakes, hugs, or sharing a beer.

The Ravi Verdict: Justice Served or Society's Price of Political Correctness

I don't know what Dan Abrams, Nancy Grace, and Mark Geragos were saying about the Dharun Ravi trial, and I didn't need to know, because I was there. Granted I didn't see the whole trial from opening statements to closing arguments, but I did see direct and cross-examination of most of the key witnesses, I heard key arguments held outside the presence of the jury, and I even had opportunities to discuss the case with Dharun's attorneys. So in case the so-called legal experts haven't yet said so, I am saying it—the jury's finding Dharun guilty is an aberration, and a setback for the American justice system.

Although the evidence of privacy invasion may have been clear-cut, the jury's verdict on so-called bias intimidation was surprising to many observers of the trial. In part, that's because Ravi didn't seem like the archetypal anti-gay bully.

The prosecution didn't present evidence that he had made intimidating comments directly to his roommate, for example, or that he disparaged gays when talking with his friends.

To anyone who still believes that the investigation and trial of Dharun Ravi was not about Tyler Clementi's death, you are kidding yourself, because since Clementi jumped to his death from the George Washington Bridge in September 2010, the Middlesex County Prosecutor's Office has been on a witch hunt. They were on a mission to crucify the boy who made gay jokes to his friends, and then took things too far by spying on his gay roommate with a webcam. Those were two separate events, but to win their case, the prosecution had to prove not only that Dharun did them, but also that they were inextricably intertwined—that one caused the other.

Pig-pen_peanuts.PNGThe irony here is that by being first-generation Indian, Dharun himself belongs to a commonly stereotyped class of people. It's in the movies, and even in cartoons like the Simpsons; we all make jokes about Indian and Middle Eastern immigrants—their accents, choices of jobs, and the distinct aroma that tends to follow them around like the cloud of dirt that followed the Peanuts character Pig-Pen. Tyler Clementi even posted such comments about Dharun's family, saying that they probably owned a Dunkin Donuts

I was deeply disturbed when I heard the verdict. By convicting Dharun of the serious crimes that carry a potential prison term of ten years (which would most likely be followed by his deportation) the jury has destroyed a life, in addition to the one that was destroyed when Clementi committed suicide. But this is not quid pro quo, because it's unfair to assume that Dharun caused his roommates suicide, moreover, it would be unconscionable to conclude that Dharun intended it, or even that Clementi's suicide was a foreseeable consequence of his stupid prank. But intent and foreseeability are the key elements that must be present (and which the prosecution must prove beyond a reasonable doubt) to hold a person criminally liable for homicide.

As I said before, the criminal statutes that Dharun was convicted of leave the judge with very little discretion over sentencing. He would be facing far less prison time (if even at all) if he were convicted of manslaughter. If the Ravi verdict stands, it will pave the way to potentially criminalize conduct that most people routinely engage in every day—stereotypical hyperbole and other ethnic-related jokes—regardless of whether those comments are private, semi-private, or even among friends.

Assuming that Dharun's defense team files an appropriate post-trial motion, the presiding judge, Honorable Glenn Berman still has the option of setting aside the jury's verdict. I'm not counting on that. It's more likely, though, that at least a portion of Dharun's conviction could be reversed on appeal. If all that fails, perhaps Governor Chris Christie will step in to see that the integrity of our justice system is preserved.

Teen Prank Gone Awry: The Case Against Dharun Ravi

I've been fortunate enough that over the past week-and-a-half all of my trials/hearings/court appearances have been at the Middlesex County Courthouse, which is not only one block from my New Brunswick, New Jersey office, but also happens to be the venue for the criminal trial of Dharun Ravi, which started on February 20th and is expected to last a month. Dharun is the Rutgers University freshman who used a webcam to spy on his gay roommate having an intimate encounter with another man in September 2010. The story caught national headlines because the roommate, eighteen-year-old Tyler Clementi, jumped off the George Washington Bridge the following day. (For more backstory Ian Parker wrote a fantastic article in The New Yorker last month.)

Had Clementi not committed suicide but instead filed a criminal complaint against Ravi…what punishment would the state seek? Allowing public outrage/moral panic to dictate the policy behind criminal law is wrong.

After spending several days hearing snippets of the prosecution's case in State v. Ravi, I now have quite a bit more information about the case than I did when I wrote this post last April. Because I don't believe that the story is being accurately portrayed by mainstream media, I wanted to share some of the key points I've picked up on from listening to the testimony in the courtroom:

  1. First of all, let me set the record straight—Dharun is not a homophobe. He's an extroverted and tech-savvy teenager, who could've either been the class clown or the class president when he attended West-Windsor Plainsboro High School North, which is in the somewhat affluent New Jersey suburb. Actually, he was co-captain of the school's Ultimate Frisbee team (I had to look this up, because I had no idea what it was).
  2. Regardless of how tragic, Clementi's death was the result of a teen prank gone awry. Enough said.
  3. The prosecution is using this case as a political statement, and this is also another example of prosecutors over-charging crimes. Although Dharun isn't charged with causing Clementi's death, by indicting him for hate crimes (N.J.S.A. § 2C:16-1) Dharun faces more prison time than if he'd committed manslaughter. The quote above is that of my friend and colleague Professor Doug Berman (@SLandP), who wrote those words way back in October 2010—six months before prosecutors upped the ante in the case against Dharun. (As far as I know, there's no relation between Doug and the presiding judge here, the Honorable Glenn Berman.)
  4. Dharun has an amazing legal defense team. I personally witnessed attorney Steven Altman methodically dismantle the credibility of Lokesh Ojha—a key prosecution witness—Dharun's former friend, who helped him setup the webcam.
  5. The prosecution would have a much weaker case if Dharun hadn't voluntarily spoken to police without his attorney present. This seems to be a recurring theme—why? Presumably, Dharun agreed to talk because he believed he'd committed no crime. 

The problem with giving a statement without your attorney present is that you don't know the law. You may say things that, while seemingly innocuous at the time, are later used against you, after prosecutors have had time to pour over your statement, hoping to find some scintilla of evidence they can use to get an indictment. Don't speak! As a friend of mine says all the time: Even a fish wouldn't get caught if he didn't open his mouth.

Almost every day a potential client calls me about a legal problem that started (or got much worse) because they didn't want to spend the money to hire an attorney. In most cases it ends up costing them a lot more to hire an attorney to clean up the mess that they created. What most people don't realize that they could actually save money if they hired or consulted with an attorney prior to making a potentially life-altering or financially significant decision.

Over the next couple weeks I will continue to watch the trial, but I'll probably wait until the end before posting on the topic again. In the meantime I'll try to share updates (and maybe pics) from the trial on Twitter (@njAtty). You also might want to follow Above the Law's Elie Mystal (@ElieNYC). I stumbled upon a number of Mystal's ABL blog posts that seem consistent with with my thoughts after watching parts of the trial (not mention incredibly witty/humerous): "Let's hope nobody you make fun of ever decides to kill themselves. Otherwise you might end up like Ravi."