Tag Archives: Criminal Justice

Gangsters to Greyhounds: The Past, Present and Future of Offender Registration

Flickr/oldandsolo

Flickr/Shankar S.

Elizabeth Reiner Platt

Contrary to popular belief, offender registries are not a recent phenomenon. Offender registries are government-controlled systems that track the movements and other activities of certain persons with criminal convictions. While today they are most commonly used for sex offenders, registries have been adopted
since the 1930s to regulate persons convicted of a wide variety of offenses including embezzlement, arson, and drug crimes. Early registries were widely criticized as ineffective and overly punitive, and many were eliminated through litigation or legislative repeals. Others simply fell into disuse over the course of the 20th century. Now, there is a growing body of research that demonstrates that
modern sex offender registries are similarly ineffective at reducing crime. Sex offender registries are costly, vastly overbroad, and error-ridden. Even worse, the overwhelming stigma of public notification provisions may actually increase recidivism among offenders.2 Despite their repeated history of failure, enthusiasm for publicly available, internet-based registries for every offense imaginable has only grown in recent years. There have been proposals across the country to register those found guilty of animal abuse, arson, drug offenses, domestic violence, and even failure to pay child support. Existing registries are
expanding and becoming increasingly punitive. Without a concerted effort to stop the tide of offender registration, we are at risk of repeating past mistakes on a much larger and more treacherous scale.

Offender registries are backwards, punitive measures that do not make communities safer. Unfortunately, those in favor of more nuanced, data-driven methods of reducing violence and sexual abuse face substantial barriers in overcoming precedent from years when registries were far narrower in scope than they are today. Advocates must work to distinguish current registries from their predecessors, educate legislators and the public on the ineffectiveness and perverse consequences of offender registries, and continue to conduct research to determine what actually works to prevent harm. While it is an uphill battle, we may take comfort that the facts are on our side.

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The School-to-Prison Pipeline Tragedy on Montana’s American Indian Reservations

Flickr/Nomadic Lass

The boundary of Rocky Boy’s Reservation in Montana. Flickr/Nomadic Lass

Melina Angelos Healey

American Indian  adolescents in Montana are caught in a school-to-prison pipeline. They are plagued with low academic achievement, high dropout, suspension and expulsion rates, and disproportionate contact with the juvenile and criminal justice systems.  This phenomenon has been well documented in poor, minority communities throughout the country. But it has received little attention with respect to the American Indian population in Montana, for whom the problem is particularly acute. Indeed, the pipeline is uniquely disturbing for American Indian youth in Montana because this same population has been affected by another heartbreaking and related trend: alarming levels of adolescent suicides and self-harm.

The statistical evidence and tragic stories recounted in this report demonstrate beyond doubt that American Indian children on the reservations and elsewhere in Montana are moving into the school-to-prison pipeline at an alarming and tragic rate. The suicides of so many children is cause for despair, and the complicity of the education system in those deaths, whether through deliberate actions or through inattention, is cause for serious self-reflection and remediation. This article has been written in the hope that the people of Montana, government officials at all levels, teachers and school administrators, and public interest lawyers will have some of the information they need to take action. Despair, prison, and untimely death should not and need not be the ending places of public education for our most vulnerable children.

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Deportation, Moncrieffe and the Rights of Immigrants

By Jesse Rockoff & Leila Kang

On the morning of October 10, 2012, we arrived at the front steps of the Supreme Court. Waiting for the doors to open, we formed a small circle with our colleagues in the Immigrant Rights Clinic and our professor Alina Das. Surrounding us were crowds of journalists and activists—but hardly any of them were interested in the argument that we were scheduled to attend. Most of them were there to show their support, in one way or another, for the argument in Fisher v. University of Texas at Austin.[1] The great majority were unaware that Fisher was being preceded by oral argument for Moncrieffe v. Holder,[2] a case that would affect thousands of immigrants facing deportation from the U.S. due to past criminal convictions. After many months of anxious waiting, immigrants’ rights advocates around the country breathed a sigh of relief after reading the Moncrieffe opinion on April 23rd.

At base, Moncrieffe is about a superficially dry question of statutory construction: namely, whether Congress intended the social sharing of a small amount of marijuana to presumptively qualify as an “aggravated felony” for immigration purposes. The result in Moncrieffe, however, signals a welcome recognition that the immigration system treats immigrants with criminal convictions out of all proportion with the acts for which they were originally punished.

To understand the import of Moncrieffe, one must be acquainted with the “categorical approach,” the main interpretive tool for assessing the criminal convictions of noncitizens. For nearly a hundred years,[3] the categorical approach has served to focus immigration adjudications solely on the type of convictions on a noncitizen’s record, rather than the actual conduct that led to these convictions. The primary purpose of the categorical approach is to promote administrability and fairness in civil immigration proceedings, which lack the procedural safeguards of the criminal process.[4] The categorical approach also helps to promote predictability for criminal attorneys seeking to properly advise noncitizens of the consequences of potential criminal dispositions and pleas, as required by the Supreme Court under Padilla v. Kentucky.[5] While the bright-line rules of the categorical approach may sometimes cut against noncitizens, immigration advocates generally seem to be of the opinion that the categorical approach does more good than harm.

 The last several years have seen a series of efforts by the Department of Homeland Security (DHS), with varying degrees of success, to erode the categorical approach.[6] Despite the additional work created for massively backlogged immigration courts in delving into the circumstances of noncitizens’ sometimes ancient criminal convictions, the government has attempted to undermine the categorical approach not only as a way to gather more information on the noncitizens it seeks to deport, but also as a way of imposing an insurmountable burden on respondents. The government’s position, at least until Moncrieffe, was that it could charge respondents with “evidence indicat[ing]” an aggravated felony and then force noncitizens to produce evidence rebutting this presumptive conduct on pain of deportation.[7] This position became the law in three circuits.[8] Essentially, the government’s solution to administrative difficulties caused by its rejection of the categorical approach was to shift the necessary record-building to respondents,[9] many of whom were detained, many of whom were without legal representation, and many of whose convictions occurred decades ago, with the necessary records long since lost or destroyed. The result was a government end run around any reasonable conception of basic fairness for immigrants with criminal convictions.

The detrimental impact of this erosion of the categorical approach became particularly acute for immigrants who were convicted of minor misdemeanor marijuana offenses, like Adrian Moncrieffe. Moncrieffe is a Jamaican national who had been a lawful permanent of the resident (“LPR” or “green card” holder) of the United States since 1984, when he was three years old.[10] During a traffic stop in 2007, police found 1.3 grams of marijuana in his car and he pleaded guilty to possession with intent to distribute, in violation of a Georgia statute.[11] As a first-time offender, Moncrieffe received no jail sentence, but instead was required to complete five years of probation, at the end of which his charge would be expunged.[12] While this plea proceeding may have seemed relatively innocuous to Moncrieffe and his criminal defense attorney at the time, it became the reason for his deportation proceeding: the Department of Homeland Security argued that his conviction was for a drug trafficking aggravated felony, and that Moncrieffe was removable from the United States and ineligible to seek any form of relief from deportation.[13]

Many others before Moncrieffe were unjustly treated as “drug trafficking aggravated felons,” as discussed at length in an amicus brief filed on behalf of immigration law professors[14]:

  • Tam Duy Pham was a Vietnamese refugee who became an LPR in 2001. He pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit a misdemeanor in violation of a Virginia statute that included the giving of marijuana, received a 12-month suspended sentence, and was placed on probation. Seven years after his guilty plea, he was removed from the United States for being a drug trafficking aggravated felon.[15]
  • Belito Garcia arrived as an LPR in 1982, fleeing persecution and civil war in Angola. His parents, wife, and son were all U.S. citizens. Fourteen years after obtaining his green card, Mr. Garcia pled guilty to two counts of possession with intent to distribute marijuana in violation of Pennsylvania law. He also did not serve a jail sentence but received one year of probation. Even though he faced persecution if returned to Angola, he was prevented from seeking asylum.[16]

In Moncrieffe, the Supreme Court unequivocally held that such convictions do not necessarily constitute aggravated felonies.[17] This is because these convictions, without more, now definitively cannot establish a presumption that the underlying conduct corresponds to ‘drug trafficking’ as defined by the federal Controlled Substances Act.[18] The Court thereby reaffirmed the correct application of the categorical approach: when determining whether a particular criminal conviction renders a noncitizen deportable, immigration courts are to presume that it “rested upon [nothing] more than the least of th[e] acts criminalized.”[19] The Court also admonished the government for its continuous attempts to classify low-level drug offenses as “illicit trafficking aggravated felonies,” noting that such an approach “defies the commonsense conception of these terms.”[20] Moreover, the Court stated that “ambiguity in criminal statutes referenced by the INA [Immigration and Nationality Act] must be construed in the noncitizen’s favor”[21]—a rare affirmation of the rule of lenity in the immigration context.

Before Moncrieffe, lawfully residing immigrants could be deported for sharing a small quantity of marijuana without any opportunity to seek relief.[22] Now, thanks to seven members of the Supreme Court, the government may no longer rely exclusively on such conduct as grounds for separating noncitizens from their families and the only country they may have ever really known. However, while the immigrant rights community is savoring the Moncrieffe victory, the immigration system continues to treat noncitizens with criminal convictions in almost unimaginably harsh ways.[23] Litigation is only one of many tools to finally restore some measure of justice and proportionality to individuals who have long since paid their debts to society—our shared society.

Leila and Jesse are currently  2L Staff Editors on the Review of Law and Social Change. Both are representing noncitizens with criminal convictions in the Immigrants Rights Clinic.



[1] 132 S. Ct. 1536 (2012) (granting certiorari).

[2] No. 11-702, 569 U.S. ___ (Apr. 23, 2013), available at http://www.supremecourt.gov/opinions/12pdf/11-702_9p6b.pdf.

[3] Alina Das, The Immigration Penalties of Criminal Convictions: Resurrecting Categorical Analysis in Immigration Law, 86 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1669, 1688–1702, 1749–52 (2011). See also Moncrieffe at 6 (citing Das, supra).

[4] Moncrieffe at 15–16 (collecting cases and noting that the categorical approach “promotes judicial and administrative efficiency by precluding the relitigation of past convictions in minitrials conducted long after the fact”).

[5] 559 U.S. 356 (2010).

[6] See, e.g., Nijhawan v. Holder, 557 U.S. 29 (2009); Lanferman, 25 I. & N. Dec. 721 (B.I.A. 2012); Silva-Trevino, 24 I. & N. Dec. 687 (A.G. 2008).

[7] See 8 C.F.R. § 1240.8(d).

[8] See Young v. Holder, 697 F.3d 976 (9th Cir. 2012) (en banc); Salem v. Holder, 647 F.3d 111 (4th Cir. 2011); Garcia v. Holder, 584 F.3d 1288 (10th Cir. 2009). But see Martinez v. Mukasey, 551 F.3d 113 (2d Cir. 2008).

[9] See, e.g., Castro-Rodriguez, 25 I. & N. Dec. 698 (B.I.A. 2012), overruled by Moncrieffe v. Holder, No. 11-702, 569 U.S. ___ (Apr. 23, 2013). Cf. I.N.A. § 240(c)(3)(A) (requiring that the government bear the burden of proving a noncitizen’s removability by clear and convincing evidence).

[10] Moncrieffe at 3.

[11] Id.; Ga. Code Ann. §16-13-30(j)(1) (2007) (“It is unlawful for any person to possess, have under his control, manufacture, deliver, distribute, dispense, administer, purchase, sell, or possess with intent to distribute marijuana.”).

[12] Moncrieffe at 3.

[13] Id. at 3–4.

[14] Brief of Immigration Law Professors as Amici Curiae in Support of Petitioner, Moncrieffe v. Holder, 569 U.S. ___ (2013) (No. 11-702), 2012 WL 2561163 [hereinafter Law Professors]. See also In Upcoming Supreme Court Case, the Immigrant Rights Clinic and the Center for the Administration of Criminal Law Weigh in with Amicus Briefs, N.Y.U. Sch. of L., News, http://ecmappdlv02.law.nyu.edu/nyu_law_website//news/UPCOMING_SUPREME_COURT_CASE_TWO_NYULAW_ENTITIES_WEIGH_IN (last visited May 5, 2013).

[15] Law Professors, supra note 14, at 24–25. See Pham v. Holder, 442 Fed. App’x 62 (4th Cir. 2011).

[16] Law Professors, supra note 14, at 34–35. See Garcia v. Att’y Gen., 462 F.3d 287 (3d Cir. 2006).

[17] Moncrieffe v. Holder, No. 11-702, 569 U.S. ___, slip op. at 1–2, 22 (Apr. 23, 2013).

[18] Id. at 6–9.

[19] Id. at 5 (citing Johnson v. United States, 559 U.S. 133, 137 (2010)) (internal quotation marks omitted).

[20] Id. at 21 (citing Carachuri-Rosendo v. Holder, 130 S. Ct. 2577 (2010)) (internal quotation marks omitted).

[21] Id. at 20–21. See also Fong Haw Tan v. Phelan, 333 U.S. 6 (1948).

[22] As the Court acknowledged in Moncrieffe, the result of the decision is not that Moncrieffe necessarily avoids deportation. His conviction still constitutes a controlled substance violation. At the very least, however, he may apply for cancellation of removal, which allows lawful permanent residents to demonstrate the reasons for why they should not be removed.

[23] See Peter Markowitz, Deportation is Different, 13 U. Penn. J. Const. L. 1299, 1301–03 (2011).

Triangulating Rape

Sarah Swan

Civil actions for rape and sexual assault have recently been undergoing significant changes in both quantity and quality. Quantitatively, the number of these kinds of cases has increased dramatically since the 1970s. Qualitatively, the litigation has shifted from a woman versus man paradigm to a triangulated tort claim involving a female plaintiff, a male defendant, and a corporate or institutional third party entity that either facilitated or somehow failed to prevent the sexual harm. While it may seem odd to think of sexual assault as involving three parties, the legal forms of rape have traditionally been triangulated. Historically, rape was a legal wrong between two men regarding one’s proprietary interest in a woman: one man’s rape of another man’s wife, daughter, or servant would be legally constructed as a wrong done to him. Then, as this triangulation faded and the criminal justice system became the main forum for rape redress, the criminal triangulation of state versus male defendant, regarding the wrong to a woman, became the dominant structure of rape law.

Despite the fact that the criminal regime has been demonstrably unsuccessful in addressing or deterring sexual harms, it remains the primary forum for their adjudication, and many cultural, legal, and political pressures encourage women to rely solely on this system. This article argues against those pressures, and asserts that triangulated claims in private law represent a potentially promising avenue of redress for sexual harms. These civil suits can function as “crimtorts” (private civil actions which target public harms). Although they must overcome some significant obstacles, triangulated civil suits can serve as an important tool in targeting the social realities that contribute to sexual assault.

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Alleyne and the Future of Mandatory Minimums in the Federal Sentencing System

by Joe Austin

On Monday, January 14, the Supreme Court will hear oral argument in Alleyne v. United States[1]. In Alleyne, the Court will reconsider whether the Sixth Amendment’s right to a jury trial requires that a jury, not a judge, find those facts that increase the minimum of a sentence.

The Facts in Alleyne

On September 7, 2010 a jury convicted Allen Ryan Alleyne of robbery and using a gun in the commission of a crime of violence. The jurors issued a special verdict finding that Alleyne used or carried a firearm in the commission of the robbery but, notably, had not “brandished” it.[2] Nevertheless, Alleyne is currently serving a seven-year mandatory minimum sentence for “brandishing” a gun.

The firearms statute under which Alleyne was convicted prescribes a five-year mandatory minimum sentence for using a gun in the commission of a crime of violence, including robbery. Brandishing a gun during such a crime, however, triggers a seven-year mandatory minimum sentence. Alleyne is currently serving the longer sentence for aspects of a crime that the jury specifically said he did not commit.

Despite the jury’s findings, the district judge found by a preponderance of the evidence that Alleyne had brandished a gun and sentenced him to the corresponding seven-year mandatory minimum. Citing the Supreme Court’s 2002 decision in Harris v. United States[3], the judge concluded that “brandishing” is a sentencing factor for a judge to determine, not an element of the underlying crime. Had this been considered an element of the crime, the prosecutor would have had to convince a jury, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the defendant “brandished” the weapon.  Instead, the prosecutor only had to convince the judge, under the lower burden of proof for judicial sentencing determinations, to secure the higher sentence.

Legal Landscape

In 2000, the Supreme Court issued a groundbreaking ruling in Apprendi v. New Jersey, holding that juries, not judges, must find “any fact [other than a prior conviction] that increases the penalty for a crime beyond the prescribed statutory maximum . . . .”[4] In Apprendi, the Court barred judicial fact-finding to raise the sentencing ceiling, but just two years later, in Harris, it declined to extend this rationale to cover raising the sentencing floor. In Harris, the Court considered the same firearms statute under which Alleyne was convicted and held that it was not unconstitutional for a judge to find a factor that raised the minimum sentence.

On Monday, the Court will hear arguments in Alleyne and consider whether to overturn Harris.  Justice Breyer, for one, may be willing to reconsider his opinion. He cast the crucial fifth vote in Harris, but conceded in a separate opinion that he “cannot easily distinguish Apprendi . . . from this case in terms of logic.” [5] Nonetheless, he demurred from extending Apprendi because he “[could not] yet accept its rule.” [6] Since Harris, though, Apprendi’s principle that juries must find the “facts that increase the prescribed range of penalties to which a criminal defendant is exposed”[7] has been affirmed in numerous cases.[8] Justice Breyer recognized as much in comments he made during an oral argument in 2010.[9]

Overturning Harris would increase doctrinal consistency and enhance the integrity and fairness of the federal sentencing system.[10]

Significance of Sentencing Minimums

While significant judicial attention has been paid to statutory maximum sentences, it is the minimums that have the greatest impact on the ground. Under some federal statutes prescribing mandatory minimums, the minimum serves as the presumptive penalty; the ceiling is rarely, if ever, reached.

The firearms statute under which Alleyne was charged is a case in point. In Harris, the Court assumed that this statute implied maximum terms of life imprisonment for using or carrying, brandishing, and discharging a gun. But the sentences that are actually imposed for this law hew closely to the enumerated mandatory minimums of five, seven, and ten years. [11] Thus Apprendi’s protection regarding statutory maximums means little. Harris allows an end-run around the jury requirement when applied to the much more salient mandatory minimum sentences.

Mandatory minimums are widely and rightly criticized for their harshness and their inconsistency with the goal of proportionality in punishment. Recent evidence shows that they exacerbate some of the very problems that sentencing reforms like guidelines systems were designed to curb, such as racial disparities in sentencing.  Overturning Harris and requiring that the facts triggering these minimums be proved to a jury would mitigate these harms.

Racial disparities

The reduction of sentencing disparities between defendants of different races was supposed to be one salutary effect of the uniformity that guidelines would bring to sentencing. But the U.S. Sentencing Commission found that despite black defendants making up 48% of those apparently eligible for charging under the firearms law in Alleyne, they actually represented 56% of those charged under the statute and 64% of those convicted under it.[12] Similar patterns exist for drug offenses carrying mandatory minimums.

Two recent empirical studies confirm these disturbing findings. Professors Sonja B. Starr and M. Marit Rehavi found that mandatory minimums were behind racial disparities in sentencing that persisted even after accounting for a host of factors including arrest offense, criminal history, and local crime rates.[13] Another study, by Professors Joshua B. Fischman and Max M. Schanzenbach, concludes that mandatory minimums are a driving cause of increased racial disparity observed in the federal sentencing system in the last five years.[14]

Overturning Harris would result in the imposition of fewer mandatory sentences, as only those whose necessary predicate facts could be proven by a reasonable doubt could be imposed. A reduction in the number of imposed mandatory minimums will in turn reduce differences in sentencing that owe to skin color instead of conduct and culpability.

Unchecked prosecutorial power

In theory, sentencing guidelines should produce sentences that reflect offense and offender characteristics, not the biases and preferences of criminal justice system actors. By reducing judges’ discretion, similar convicted defendants would be treated similarly. However, mandatory minimums do not eliminate sentencing discretion, but rather shift it to prosecutors while tying judges’ hands even when every factor except that one triggering a mandatory minimum suggests that a lower sentence would be appropriate. Moreover, allowing prosecutors to bypass juries removes another check on the extraordinary powers they are granted.

When these checks are removed, injustices can flourish. About the longer sentences black defendants received as compared to similarly situated whites, Starr and Rehavi conclude, “Initial charging is an important driver of these sentencing disparities—especially the decision to bring mandatory minimum charges.”[15]

Decreasing mandatory minimum sentences and allowing judges to consider every relevant factor—not one to the exclusion of all others—under the advisory guidelines can tamp down the differences produced by prosecutorial discretion. Fischman and Schanzenbach found that “judicial discretion likely reduces racial disparities” in this system,[16] while Starr and Rehavi similarly reported, “nothing in these data suggests that judges’ use of their post-Booker discretion exacerbated racial disparity.”

Further, when the exercise of a prosecutor’s discretion in the form of the initial charging decision can have such great impact at sentencing, putting a jury determination and heightened burden of proof between that discretion and the eventual sentence helps control this great power.

Conclusion

Mandatory minimums put prosecutors in the role of sentencers and increase pernicious race-based differences in sentencing. Requiring that juries determine the facts needed to impose such punishments will lessen these risks and reinvigorate public control of the judicial process. If the Court decides to overturn Harris it will deal a blow to the mandatory minimums that are behind some of the worst features of the federal sentencing regime.[17]

Joe is currently a 2L at NYU School of Law.  He is a Staff Editor on the Review of Law & Social Change.


[1] 457 Fed. Appx. 348 (4th Cir. 2011), cert. granted, 133 S. Ct. 420 (Oct. 5, 2012) (No. 11-9335).

[2] Alleyne was convicted of carrying and brandishing a weapon under a theory of complicity.  Alleyne was not accused of carrying the gun himself; instead, his accomplice, who was never identified or charged, was found to have done so. Under complicity theory, a perpetrator may be held legally accountable for the actions of his accomplice in the commission of the crime if he knew or should have known that such actions were likely to be taken.

[3] 536 U.S. 545 (2002).

[4] 530 U.S. 466, 490 (2000).

[5] 536 U.S. at 569 (Breyer, J., concurring).

[6] Id.

[7] 530 U.S. at 490.

[8] See, e.g., United States v. Booker, 543 U.S. 220 (2005) (finding the Federal Sentencing Guidelines unconstitutional for allowing judges to determine facts that increase a defendant’s guideline sentencing range); Southern Union Co. v. United States, 132 S. Ct. 2344 (2012) (extending Apprendi’s holding to the imposition of criminal fines).

[9] See Tr. of Oral Arg. at 20, United States v. O’Brien, 130 S. Ct. 2169 (2010) (No. 08-1569), http://www.supremecourt.gov/oral_arguments/argument_transcripts/08-1569.pdf (“[I]n Harris, I said that I thought Apprendi does cover mandatory minimums, but I don’t accept Apprendi. Well, at some point I guess I have to accept Apprendi, because it’s the law and has been for some time.”) (statement of Justice Breyer).

[10] Alleyne’s secondary statutory argument, which could limit the extent to which a ruling in his favor would alter Harris, contends that the firearms statute creates three distinct offenses with respective fixed-term sentences of five, seven, and ten years. Thus, the statute – but not Harris’s constitutional holding – would run afoul of Apprendi because it allows the judge to increase the sentencing ceiling.

[11] See Harris, 536 U.S. at 578 (Thomas, J., dissenting) (“[T]he sentence imposed when a defendant is found only to have ‘carried’ a firearm ‘in relation to’ a drug trafficking offense appears to be, almost uniformly, if not invariably, five years. Similarly, those found to have brandished a firearm typically, if not always, are sentenced only to 7 years in prison while those found to have discharged a firearm are sentenced only to 10 years.”).

[12] U.S. Sentencing Comm’n, Fifteen Years of Guidelines Sentencing: An Assessment of How Well the Federal Criminal Justice System is Achieving the Goals of Sentencing Reform 90 (2004), available at http://www.ussc.gov/Research/Research_Projects/Miscellaneous/15_Year_Study/15_year_study_full.pdf.

[13] Sonja B. Starr & M. Marit Rehavi, Racial Disparity in the Criminal Justice Process: Prosecutors, Judges, and the Effects of United States v. Booker (Nov. 1, 2012), available at http://ssrn.com/abstract=2170148.

[14] Joshua B. Fischman & Max M. Schanzenbach, Racial Disparities Under the Federal Sentencing Guidelines: The Role of Judicial Discretion and Mandatory Minimums, 9 J. Empirical Legal Stud. 729 (2012).

[15] Starr & Rehavi, supra note 14, at 19.

[16] Fischman & Schanzenbach, supra note 15, at 730.

[17] Amicus curiae briefs submitted on Alleyne’s behalf by NYU School of Law’s Center on the Administration of Criminal Law and by the Sentencing Project and American Civil Liberties Union alerted me to the studies and reports cited in this article. Those briefs contain a more extensive discussion of those documents and of some of the arguments raised here.