I know I said I wouldn’t write any more about it but…

Here I am, because it is hard not to write something about the news last week that Brendan Dassey’s conviction was overturned.  Dassey, for those of who you did not watch Netflix documentary Making a Murderer and are willing to take me at my word as to what you would have concluded if you did watch the show, is the only one of the two criminal defendants featured in the documentary who you could walk away from the show just absolutely certain that he did not do what he was convicted of doing.  Dassey will be released from prison in a little less than three months if there is no appeal by the State.

Articles since Friday that I’ve seen discussing the development in Dassey’s case manage to work into the headline that the court (quite rightly of course) called out the conduct of Dassey’s former lawyer, the now infamous Len Kachinsky, as inexcusable.  But, Kachinsky’s epic failings as a lawyer were not actually the justification for overturning the conviction — mostly it appears because Dassey’s current lawyers managed to miss the correct argument to make on that front.

Instead, it was the even more stomach-churning conduct of the police officers in obtaining the “confession” from Dassey that justified the federal court’s action.  You can read the entirety of the 91 page order here if you’d like – though it is infuriating to relive the interrogation even in textual form.

But because Kachinsky really cannot get publicly lambasted enough for his conduct – after all he so very clearly wanted this case to make him famous and he’s gotten his wish though more in the manner that you see in dirty jokes involving genies in lamps with quite mischievous minds — I’ m doing my part by pasting below the pertinent parts of the opinion relating to discussion of just how far off the rails Kachinsky was in his handling of the matter (skipping a part that is really more about the equally vile Michael O’Kelley and his role).  I’ve also edited out the internal citations to cut the length a bit.

C. Leonard Kachinsky, Pre-Trial Counsel for Brendan Dassey

1. Media Interviews

On March 7, 2006, attorney Leonard Kachinsky was appointed to represent Dassey. Kachinsky was excited to be involved in Dassey’s case because by then it had garnered significant local and national attention.  Essentially immediately after his appointment Kachinsky began giving media interviews in which he discussed the case.

Kachinsky first met with Dassey on March 10, 2006. Dassey told Kachinsky that what was in the criminal complaint was not true and that he wanted to take a polygraph test to prove his innocence. After this initial meeting, local media reported Kachinsky as having described Dassey as sad, remorseful, and overwhelmed.  The media reported that Kachinsky blamed Avery for “leading [Dassey] down the criminal path” and said that he had not ruled out a plea deal.  Kachinsky later said that one of his reasons for speaking to the media was to communicate to both Dassey and to his family so that he could get them “accustomed to the idea that Brendan might take a legal option that they don’t like ….”

Over the next few days nearly all of Kachinsky’s work on Dassey’s case involved communicating with local and national media outlets.  On March 17 Kachinsky appeared on Nancy Grace’s national television show.  During that appearance Kachinsky said that, if the recording of Dassey’s statement was accurate and admissible, “there is, quite frankly, no defense.”  Kachinsky later said that he was merely “stating the obvious.”  However, Kachinsky had not yet watched the March 1 recorded interview. All he had seen was the criminal complaint.

In subsequent media interviews Kachinsky referred to the techniques the investigators used in questioning Dassey as “pretty standard” and “quite legitimate.”  One local news broadcast included Kachinsky’s response to statements Avery had made to the media. Avery had said that he knew that Dassey’s confession must have been coerced because there was no physical evidence to support what Dassey had said.  Kachinsky responded that he had reviewed the recorded statement and it did not appear that the investigators were putting words in Dassey’s mouth.  Kachinsky also publicly refuted Avery’s statement that Dassey was not very smart and that it would be easy for law enforcement to coerce him.

In another interview Kachinsky said that, although he believed Dassey had some intellectual deficits, he also believed Dassey had a reasonably good ability to recall the events he participated in. Over the roughly three weeks  following his appointment Kachinsky spent about one hour with Dassey and at least 10 hours communicating with the press.

Kachinsky met with Dassey again on April 3, at which time Dassey again professed his innocence and asked to take a polygraph examination.  Kachinsky hired Michael O’Kelly, with whom he was not familiar, to conduct a polygraph exam.  O’Kelly held himself out as a private investigator and polygraph examiner. Kachinsky informed Dassey of the upcoming polygraph examination in a letter, stating, “the videotape is pretty convincing that you were being truthful on March 1,” and encouraging Dassey not to cover up for Avery.  Shortly before the polygraph examination, the prosecutor sent an email to Kachinsky expressing concern about the pretrial publicity that Kachinsky was engaging in and referring him to the relevant rule of attorney ethics governing such publicity.

2. Defense Investigator Michael O’Kelly

O’Kelly conducted a polygraph examination of Dassey, the results of which were inconclusive. Nonetheless, O’Kelly described Dassey to Kachinsky as “a kid without a conscience” or something similar.  Notwithstanding O’Kelly’s opinion of Dassey, Kachinsky hired him as the defense investigator in the case.

Despite Dassey’s claims of innocence, both O’Kelly and Kachinsky proceeded on the assumption that Dassey would cooperate with the prosecution and become the key witness against Avery. O’Kelly’s primary goal was to uncover information that would bolster the prosecution’s case.  To this end he purportedly developed information as to the possible location of certain evidence.  Kachinsky provided this information to the prosecutor and a lead investigator and informed them that they may wish to speak to O’Kelly.  Although the information led to a search warrant being issued, the search warrant did not yield any additional evidence against Dassey.

Kachinsky decided that he wanted O’Kelly to re-interview Dassey to get him once again to admit to his involvement in the rape, murder, and mutilation of Halbach. Kachinsky wanted to make it clear to Dassey that, based upon the evidence, a jury was going to find him guilty.  Toward that end, he chose May 12 as the date for O’Kelly to interview Dassey—the date a decision on Dassey’s motion to suppress his March 1 confession was scheduled to be rendered.  Kachinsky expected to lose the motion to suppress and believed that the effect of losing such a crucial motion would leave Dassey vulnerable.

Shortly before meeting with Dassey, in an email to Kachinsky O’Kelly expressed contempt for the Avery family. He referred to the Avery family as “criminals” and asserted that family members engaged in incestuous sexual conduct and had a history of stalking women.  He continued, “This is truly where the devil resides in comfort. I can find no good in any member. These people are pure evil.” O’Kelly quoted a friend as having said, “This is a one branch family tree. Cut this tree down. We need to end the gene pool here.”  O’Kelly thought that Dassey’s denial of his confession was an “unrealistic” “fantasy” that was influenced by his family.  On O’Kelly’s recommendation, Kachinsky canceled a planned visit with Dassey because Dassey “needs to be alone.”  O’Kelly said, “He needs to trust me and the direction that I steer him into.”

[snip]

After the interview was concluded, Kachinsky understood from O’Kelly that Dassey was now “on board with cooperating in the Avery prosecution and, ultimately, entering a plea agreement.” However, Kachinsky had not watched O’Kelly’s interview of Dassey.  Nevertheless, he approved of O’Kelly communicating the substance of his taped interview of Dassey to the prosecution’s investigating agents.

3. May 13, 2006 Interrogation

Following the O’Kelly interview, Kachinsky arranged for the state’s investigators to interrogate Dassey again.  Kachinsky did not attend the interrogation. The state had not made any offer of immunity or prosecutorial consideration.  Kachinsky did not prepare Dassey for the interrogation, trusting O’Kelly to do so.  The plan was to have O’Kelly watch Dassey’s interrogation from a separate monitoring room. Kachinsky instructed O’Kelly not to interrupt unless Dassey asked to speak with Kachinsky or otherwise asked to stop.

[snip]

Although it probably does not need to be stated, it will be: Kachinsky’s conduct was inexcusable both tactically and ethically. It is one thing for an attorney to point out to a client how deep of a hole the client is in. But to assist the prosecution in digging that hole deeper is an affront to the principles of justice that underlie a defense attorney’s vital role in the adversarial system. That said, Dassey’s attempt to characterize Kachinsky’s misconduct as a conflict of interest under Sullivan is misplaced.

And, of course, Kachinsky has now weighed in with the media about his thoughts on the reversal.  Unbelievably, he’s going with trying to take a little credit for it and claim it vindicates his efforts:

 “In the sense that [the confession] was an instance that I preserved for appeal, before I was off the case, I was in sense gratified because the fact that that was the basis for magistrate judge Duffin’s decision, it shows that I did my job,” Kachinsky said. “Without a confession, the state didn’t really have anything of a case. It was an issue that was clearly available to appeal.”

And, in excellent news for residents of Appleton, Wisconsin – he’s still licensed and in good standing.

Dishonesty in settlement negotiations

This is a topic I’ve spoken about on a number of times over the years as it can make for a pretty decent CLE presentation.  Any such presentation almost always involves use of a hypothetical to explore issues that seem (or at least can sound) academic to a large extent.  The usual jumping off point is the language set out in Comment [2] of Model Rule 4.1 that speaks of “generally accepted conventions in negotiation,” and that indicates that “a party’s intentions as to an acceptable settlement of a claim” is a type of statement “ordinarily not taken as statements of material fact.”  From time-to-time there are real world situations that can be used to demonstrate that lawyers can end up paying a real price for making a known, false statement in connection with settlement negotiations, as opposed to things that are just chalked up as being “puffery.”

In my reading stack for a couple of months now has been a situation though that falls into the category of dishonesty in settlement negotiations, but looks like nothing I’ve quite seen before.

In late February 2016, the ABA Journal online had an article about a Seattle judge imposing $32,000 in sanctions against two lawyers who were representing Pierce County, Washington in the defense of a false arrest lawsuit.  The sanctions were imposed for the lawyers’ role in “misleading settlement negotiations,” and not telling opposing counsel that there client had rejected a proposed settlement dollar amount.  Which, at least sounds bad on its face, of course, but at that same time — given the fluidity of settlement negotiations — doesn’t necessarily sound all that far away from what the rules speak of as a generally-accepted convention of negotiations.

Both the ABA piece, and this more expansive article from The News Tribune , elaborate a bit on the details, but that elaboration only makes it seem a bit more remarkable to me that these lawyers were sanctioned.  And, since it is a Friday and to cut to the chase it is for this reason, yes it does look like the client contact for these lawyers did tell the lawyers that he would not agree to a $250,000 settlement payment, and that the lawyers continued the effort to negotiate other important aspects of the proposed deal for about a week without telling opposing counsel that the client was saying it wouldn’t agree to the monetary component, but an important aspect of the context is left out of the ABA Journal story for example:  The client who had said it wouldn’t do $250,000 had actually previously offered to settle the case for $210,000.  In a vacuum, it does not seem beyond the pale that lawyers, knowing that the gap to surmount was just $40,000, would continue to work on getting some non-monetary concessions in hopes that they might have a client that would change its mind when it saw additional bells and whistles.

So, why the sanctions really?  I can only guess, but my guess is that the rest of the context matters probably even more and you will get a feel for that context if you read the two stories already linked and this earlier July 2015 story in The News Tribune.

The false arrest suit involves a woman who has been arrested for child molestation, and the charges against her dismissed, twice; one of the dismissals was specifically premised on a finding of prosecutorial vindictiveness.  There is also a separate federal lawsuit filed by the same plaintiff over things done since the first lawsuit was filed, and the elected prosecutor for Pierce County who hired the lawyers to defend the false arrest suit because of his office’s conflict of interest is also facing ethics charges and whistleblower complaints over various aspects of the efforts to prosecute this plaintiff and, if that weren’t enough, also a recall petition.

Oh yeah, and like a week after the sanctions ruling, the same prosecutor appeared on Nancy Grace in the middle of a murder trial to talk about the murder trial his office was prosecuting, prompting a motion for a mistrial in that case.

With the popularity of the “Making a Murderer” documentary, I’m not sure what this one would be called — perhaps just “Making a Mess,” but it sounds like it would make a good sequel.

Legal Ethics Issues in “Making a Murderer” – Part 3 of 3

It has been a while since I last wrote about this topic.  And, getting around to finally writing this piece has been so frustrating and depressing for reasons that ought to be clear by the end of this post, that I am confident that I have no plans to return to it.

When I last left off, I was promising to come back and discuss issues arising under RPC 5.3 for lawyers regarding their responsibilities for nonlawyers that they employ or engage to provide them with assistance.  Specifically, what I promised was that I would come back to the topic of Len Kachinsky and his post-hac efforts to deflect any blame for the way his private investigator handled a session with his juvenile client, Brendan Dassey, and to now say that he would not have hired the private investigator he hired — Michael O’Kelly — if he had known the investigator would engage in such conduct.

Setting aside the question of how believable that position is — the claim that he didn’t know roughly (if not exactly) what was going to happen when he let O’Kelly at his client, let’s take a look at what his ethical responsibilities actually would have been.  (And, for the record, setting aside the question I just set aside takes real doing in the first place when you remember the email exchanges between Kachinsky and the investigator that were detailed in the final episode of the series and that were used in connection with the brutal cross-examination of Kachinsky by Dassey’s newest batch of lawyers.)

Wisconsin’s version (SCR 20:5.3) of the relevant rule is patterned after ABA Model Rule 5.3 and provides:

With respect to a nonlawyer employed or retained by or associated with a lawyer:

(a) a partner, and a lawyer who individually or together with other lawyers possesses comparable managerial authority in a law firm shall make reasonable efforts to ensure that the firm has in effect measures giving reasonable assurance that the person’s conduct is compatible with the professional obligations of the lawyer;

(b) a lawyer having direct supervisory authority over the nonlawyer shall make reasonable efforts to ensure that the person’s conduct is compatible with the professional obligations of the lawyer; and

(c) a lawyer shall be responsible for conduct of such a person that would be a violation of the Rules of Professional Conduct if engaged in by a lawyer if:

(1) the lawyer orders or, with the knowledge of the specific conduct, ratifies the conduct involved; or

(2) the lawyer is a partner or has comparable managerial authority in the law firm in which the person is employed, or has direct supervisory authority over the person, and knows of the conduct at a time when its consequences can be avoided or mitigated but fails to take reasonable remedial action.

To pare that down, the two parts most directly applicable to analyzing Kachinsky’s obligations are (b), (c)(1), and the portion of (c)(2) applicable to a lawyer with direct supervisory authority over the person.

So, this is the part where I could walk through questions about what exactly ought to be expected of a lawyer who hires a private investigator or a consultant in terms of “reasonable efforts” to ensure that they will conduct themselves in a way that would be compatible with the lawyer’s own ethical obligations and those questions can be difficult ones to fully evaluate, and it is often easy to take shots at a lawyer with the benefit of hindsight to conjure up some additional thing that could have, or should have, been done.  And, from there, I could undertake an examination of the likelihood that — especially because the whole O’Kelly  interview of Dassey was video-recorded — that at some point Kachinsky surely had to learn what had happened and could have undertaken some sort of effort to try to remedy the impact on Mr. Dassey.

But, between having watched the documentary itself and having read this piece specifically about Mr. O”Kelly and who he was before and after these events, it’s just not worth all of the effort.  There really cannot be any justification for Kachinsky’s role in the farce.  If nothing else would make it clear, then surely the nice photo of the “document” that O’Kelly put in front of Dassey — the Self Interview and Information Survey — and the “choices” it offers should demonstrate that no one would learn anything from deconstructing this scenario to try to fashion a way that this could have been done in compliance with the ethics rules:

The form Michael O'Kelly gave Brendan Dassey

Or, if that isn’t enough, how about the fact that O’Kelly was known back then (before Kachinsky retained him) for being an adherent of something called SCAN that he considered to be more effective than a lie detector test.  You should actually go read the original Sacramento newspaper article as well, but if you are pressed for time, the summary treatment of it by the Gazette Review piece is pretty good:

In 2001, the Sacramento Daily Recorder ran an article about Michael O’Kelly. In short, the article explained how O’Kelly was one of “a dozen elite practioners” of a “truth detecting technique,” SCAN, which relied on exploiting linguistic deviations in statements. In the article, O’Kelly claims his technique is more dependable than a polygraph. An example of his technique is that if one were to say, “when I was a kid,” then that person was probably molested. Also, if you say the number 3, you’re probably lying.

Ugh.

Legal Ethics Issues in “Making A Murderer”– Part 2 of ?

Two recent events have brought me back around to wanting to talk about ethics issues raised by this fascinating documentary.  One event is public and absurd.  The other event was semi-private and surprising (at least to me).  As neither of the recent events are actually the thing I wanted to talk about a couple of weeks ago when I wrote my first post about this documentary, I will try to dispense with them with relative speed.

First, this story that made the rounds this week further cements the notion that the former prosecutor is really something else.  While, strictly speaking, it is hard to think of an ethics rule directly implicated by his letter to the person he put in prison for murder trying to cajole an admission of guilt so that he (the former prosecutor) can write a book revealing the true story, the mere act of writing such a letter certainly isn’t a strong look for the lawyer.  Perhaps the saddest aspect of it is the desperation of the “this was your absolute last chance to tell the truth and you blew it…. but let me know if you change your mind because I’m probably still going to be interested” approach to coercion.

Second, I found myself enmeshed in an interesting APRL listserv discussion when some lawyers who were taken aback at the “disclosure” made by Avery’s former lawyer, Bob Oedenkirk as Saul Goodman Dean Strang in an appearance on ABC’s Nightline that he worries that Avery “might” be guilty.  A number of lawyers expressed belief that even with the passage of almost ten years, it was bad for the profession for the lawyer to publicly express any such misgivings about a former client, particularly for as long as there are still folks pursuing proceedings to try to have the former client exonerated.  I was a bit taken aback for what I’ve now been able to figure out are three reasons.  First, and the most embarrassing for me because I didn’t realize it until I had already weighed in on the listserv was that I forgot that Tennessee’s RPC 1.9 differs significantly from the ABA Model Rule approach in applying the exception for “generally known” information to both adverse use and disclosure of confidential information of the former client.  Second, having watched all of the documentary, he didn’t seem to me to be saying anything in the Nightline piece that he hadn’t already said in the documentary itself — thus the current disclosures would be merely repetitive of disclosures that presumably had to have been consented to by Avery for broadcast in the first place.  The third reason though finally provides a segue into the original thing I wanted to talk about — given how detestable the conduct of at least one of the other defense lawyers in the drama appears — Strang came across to me as exactly the sort of lawyer you’d hope to have on your side.

That other defense lawyer is, of course, Len Kachinsky.  The second court-appointed lawyer for Avery’s nephew, Brendan Dassey.  The notion that Kachinsky never was disciplined for the way he handled his representation of Dassey is exceedingly difficult to fathom.  A lawyer’s duty to be the client’s zealous advocate is at its highest when the client in question is accused of murder.  Add into the mix details such as the client is a juvenile with well below average intellect and social coping skills, and you’d expect the likeliest ethical failings to come from a lawyer crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed in the name of trying to protect that client.  Yet, Kachinsky now stands as an example of a lawyer managing to violate ethical duties to his client in the course of undertaking what appears to be the polar opposite of zealous advocacy.

As we learn in the course of the documentary, Kachinsky spoke to the t.v. cameras [as shown in Episode 4] before ever speaking to his client and made a much more damning statement about his client than Strang can ever be accused of making about his former client: indicating that his client was “morally and legally responsible” for the murder.  While that alone was unforgivable, it was not as impactful a transgression in the end as was his role, both active and passive, in coercing his own client into giving another “confession” to the police outside of his presence which also managed to lead to an admissible telephone conversation between his client and his client’s mother.

This story from The Guardian lays out much if not all of the detail necessary to take in something of the big picture of the problems with Kachinsky’s performance.  I certainly won’t condone anyone who has harassed or threatened the man as the article indicates has happened and, of course, cancer is awful and thankfully the article reports that his is now in remission.  But as to his explanations for his handling of the case, I’m not inclined to give him any more benefit of the doubt than he afforded to his minor client.

With all that being said, that article also happens to be the first time I’ve heard Kachinsky indicate that he was not aware at the time of the conduct and tactics of the private investigator that he hired.  Kachinsky’s portrayal of that private investigator as a “loose cannon” tees up an interesting discussion about a lawyer’s obligations with respect to the conduct of such a non-lawyer assistant under RPC 5.3, so it seems there will be a part 3 on this topic in my future.

Legal Ethics Issues in “Making a Murderer” – Part 1 of ?

So, the latest rage in Netflix binge-watching is the documentary “Making a Murderer.”  If you haven’t been engaged in a digital detox program over the last month or so, then you are likely aware of its existence.   My wife and I just finished it up last evening.  If you haven’t watched it, you really should as it is quite compelling.  It will only take you roughly 10 hours if you do it in one sitting, I’ll wait here until you get back.

Ok.  Great.  Pretty compelling stuff, huh?

Now, I have my own views about the cases, the documentary, how it makes me feel about the system, etc.  (In addition to watching the series, I’ve also spent some time on the internet reading about the underlying case and things that were left out, etc.)  But I’m not going to get into a bunch of that on this blog because, strictly speaking, even the “law of lawyering,” doesn’t encompass many of the topics worth discussing.  On the broader issue, I will say just this (I guess):  I have no doubt that there was more to the prosecution case presented to the jury than was presented during the documentary.  This would have to be true given the length of the trial versus the length of the documentary.  (I will say that, even before scouring the web to read articles to reward myself for staying unspoiled during the run of watching the show, I found it fascinating on reflection that almost none of what we saw, and what was explored, in the documentary had anything to do with what, if any, motive the prosecution offered for why the accused would have murdered the victim.  Concurrently, though, there also was no exploration of what, if anything, the defense lawyers said and did to exploit the notion that there seemed to be no motive for the commission of the crime).  If you have already watched the documentary series, and want to learn just a bit more through articles that will certainly spoil you as to the current state of affairs for the subjects of the series if you haven’t watched, you could do worse than to read these three pieces: here, here, and here.

The popularity of this documentary and the issues it touches on does provide excellent fodder for occasional discussions of certain legal ethics issues.  I really wasn’t sure I was going to do tackle any of them here, but then I finally remembered (somewhere between watching Episodes 6 and 7 and last night’s watching of the final three episodes) from where I knew the name of the lead prosecutor.  I covered his 4-month suspension from the practice of law in my 2014 Ethics Roadshow.  I won’t pile on about the details of that because, at least at a surface level it has nothing to do with the case(s) explored in the documentary, but I will give you this link that points to that story itself if you want to go familiarize yourself.

What I do want to explore – and see if I can do so in way that doesn’t truly spoil anything for someone who hasn’t watched the series yet — is an instance of conduct, involving the prosecutor, that seemed to me at the time I was watching to clearly have run afoul of the lawyer ethics rules.

There is a memorable press conference, shown in Episode 3, held by the prosecutor.  You can read a transcript someone has made of the entire third episode online just by ginning up a decent Google search and that will get you the transcript of the remarks at the press conference.

Wisconsin, like most states, has (and had at the time of the press conference) an ethics rule governing a lawyer’s ability to make certain public statements about a pending matter in litigation.  Under the ABA Model Rules now (and back then), that rule is RPC 3.6, conveniently titled “Trial Publicity.”  RPC 3.6(a), applicable to lawyers in civil and criminal cases alike, is broadly designed to prevent lawyers from “mak[ing] an extrajudicial statement that the lawyer knows or reasonably should know will be disseminated by means of public communication and will have a substantial likelihood of materially prejudicing an adjudicative proceeding in the matter.”  At first blush, the kind of statements made in the press conference would certainly appear to be statements that are extremely likely to materially prejudice not one but two trials.  RPC 3.6(b)(2), however, goes on to make clear that, despite the general prohibition, a lawyer is still permitted to make an extrajudicial statement about “information contained in a public record.”  Which would mean that as long a lawyer puts enough detail into a court filing, repeating those details in a press conference would not violate RPC 3.6.

But, lawyers who are prosecutors also have special duties under another ethics rule, RPC 3.8.  And, under the ABA Model Rules, there exists a provision, RPC 3.8(f), that reads as follows:

except for statements that are necessary to inform the public of the nature and extent of the prosecutor’s action and that serve a legitimate law enforcement purpose, refrain from making extrajudicial statements comments that have a substantial likelihood of heightening public condemnation of the accused and exercise reasonable care to prevent investigators, law enforcement personnel, employees, or other persons assisting or associated with the prosecutor in a criminal case from making an extrajudicial statement that the prosecutor would be prohibited from making under Rule 3.6 or this Rule.

Now, if a rule like this had applied to the Wisconsin prosecutor, the press conference shown in Episode 3 would have violated this rule about six ways from Sunday.

Wisconsin, however, did not then (and does not now) have this rule in place.  Wisconsin has specifically declined to follow the ABA on this topic.  Thus, my initial instinct was wrong.  Whatever else I may think about the decision to hold the press conference and to have made the statements made (and the New York Times article I linked above indicates that the prosecutor himself has said he regrets holding that press conference), as long as the same contents were in the publicly-filed criminal complaint, then it would not have been an actionable violation of RPC 3.6 or 3.8 in Wisconsin.

Approximately 30 other states, including Tennessee, do have a provision identical to, or strongly similar to, RPC 3.8(f) and, thus, such a press conference by a prosecutor in those states would be a potentially disciplinable offense.

At some point, I will write a post about the troubling ethics issues raised by the acts and omissions of one of the lawyers for the minor defendant whose arrest was part of the subject matter of the press conference, but not today.