Cops Arrest Man for Pointing Banana at Them, Say They Feared For Their Safety

Ed Krayewski

Darren Wilson avoided indictment, like many police officers involved in fatal shootings do, in large part because he claimed to fear for his safety. Cops almost universally make this claim after a shooting, and it almost always helps in avoiding any criminal charges. This claim by cops that they fear for their safety has become such a go-to claim it was even made by a 300 pound probation officer in Georgia who shot a 12-pound Jack Russell terrier. That officer also insisted he gave the dog "verbal commands" before shooting.

But officers in Colorado this week may have provided the clearest example of how the claim of "officer safety" is used to cover for police lack of thinking. The Daily Sentinel reports that police arrested a man from Fruitvale, Colorado, for allegedly pointing a banana in them as if it were a gun. Via the Sentinel:

The deputies, Joshua Bunch and Donald Love, said they feared for their safety when the man, 27-year-old Nathan Rolf Channing, pointed a banana at them while crossing the 29 Road bridge on foot, according to Channing's arrest affidavit.

Both deputies said they saw that the "gun" was yellow, but feared for their lives nonetheless, the affidavit says.

"I immediately ducked in my patrol car and accelerated continuing northbound, fearing that it was a weapon," Bunch wrote in the affidavit, which lists Love and him as victims. "Based on training and experience, I have seen handguns in many shapes and colors and perceived this to be a handgun."

Channing was jailed for "felony menacing." Time to start raising IQ standards perhaps. Happy Thanksgiving.

This Man Is About to Die Because an Alcoholic Lawyer Botched His Case

What does it take for a condemned person to win a resentencing?

—By Marc Bookman

Robert Wayne Holsey during a death row visit with nieces and a nephew

Update (11/20/2014): Georgia has set a December 9 execution date for Robert Wayne Holsey; a clemency hearing is scheduled for the morning of December 8.

When people recount their alcohol consumption after a night on the town, or even a serious bender, they usually think about it in terms of drinks. Very rarely do they calibrate their intake in quarts. So most of us don't have a good sense of just how much a quart of vodka is—a bit more than 21 shots, as it turns out. That's the amount of alcohol lawyer Andy Prince consumed every night during the death penalty trial of his client, Robert Wayne Holsey, a low-functioning man with a tortured past who now stands on the brink of execution in Georgia.

When a person drinks that heavily, there's bound to be collateral damage—and for Prince and his clients the damage was profound. Once a skilled lawyer, Prince already had dug himself a very deep hole by the time Holsey went to trial in February 1997. But the signs of his downward spiral were clear 14 months earlier, back in December 1995, when a Baldwin County judge first assigned him the case. Prince had recently defaulted on a $20,000 promissory note, and Bell South and Vanguard Financial had won separate judgments against him totaling an additional $25,000. And then there was the probate fiasco: In June 1994, a client named Margaret Collins had hired Prince to handle the estate of her deceased common-law husband, which was valued at $116,000. Within a year there was almost nothing left—Prince had spent it all. He never really considered it stealing, he later insisted. He'd always intended to pay the money back when that one big civil case came along.

His deterioration emerged in other troubling ways. In June 1996, after six months as Holsey's lawyer, Prince got into an argument with neighbors at his apartment complex, cursing at them—"Nigger, get the fuck out of my yard or I'll shoot your black ass"—and threatening them with a gun. He was a white lawyer defending a black man in the high-profile murder of a white police officer, but nowhere in the Holsey case record was there ever a suggestion that he might be unfit to handle the case. He was simply charged with two counts of pointing a pistol at another, two counts of simple assault, two counts of disorderly conduct, and, of course, public drunkenness.

For Prince, it all came back to alcohol. Three months before he wrote the first of many checks against the estate, conduct that eventually put him in prison, he was hit with a complaint from the Athens Regional Medical Center for his failure to pay more than $10,000 for an inpatient substance abuse program he'd attended in 1993. But the drinking began long before that. By 14 he already had a problem with it, and by his late 30s, he'd lost his battle with alcoholism countless times.

On one occasion, in 1988, Prince staggered into the Athens emergency room with a blood alcohol level almost four times the driving limit, declared that he'd been drunk two months running, and asked to be detoxified. He'd come in before, and, as was his pattern, he signed himself out against the advice of the attending doctors. In May 1993, he upped the ante, arriving at the ER with a near-death .346 blood alcohol level. As Thomas Butcher, a doctor at the facility, noted in his psychological evaluation:

When a very intelligent man whose professional life is spent out maneuvering and out smarting other people repetitively makes a serious judgment error based on a belief that has been repeatedly shown to be wrong, he needs to consider that it may be time for him to do some serious revision of his thinking, that is, if he wants to continue to live.

Butcher added that if Prince "made the kind of mistakes in the courtroom that he makes with his drinking he wouldn't have a professional career to worry about."

Three days after the evaluation, Prince checked out of the hospital against doctors' orders, only to return a week later for three weeks of rehab. The treatment didn't take. After two months, he was back again (acute intoxication). But Prince was nothing if not resilient. When a physician brought up his struggles—family problems, his disastrous finances, his heavy work responsibilities—Prince insisted he had them "under control." Events would soon prove otherwise.

Prince was by no means the first drunk to handle a death penalty trial. There are plenty of well-documented examples. Also of drug-addicted lawyers, lawyers who refer to their clients by racial slurs in front of the jury, lawyers who nap through testimony, and lawyers who don't bother to be in court while a crucial witness is testifying. There are lawyers who have never read their state's death penalty statute, lawyers who file one client's brief in another client's death penalty appeal without changing the names, lawyers who miss life-or-death deadlines, and lawyers who don't even know that capital cases have separate determinations of guilt and punishment. (See "10 Ways to Blow a Death Penalty Case.")

There are enough of these cases on record that most people in the legal profession no longer find them particularly shocking. What is more shocking, though, is how commonly courts and prosecutors are willing to overlook these situations as they occur, and how doggedly they try to defend the death sentences that result. Trial judges, of course, are often the ones who appointed the lawyers in question. And prosecutors have little motivation to demand that their courtroom adversaries be qualified and effective. It's a flawed system that often results in flawed verdicts. For a clear window into it, we need look no further than the Holsey case.

In the early hours of December 17, 1995, Robert Wayne Holsey was arrested and charged for the murder of Baldwin County Deputy Sheriff Will Robinson, who pulled over Holsey's car following the armed robbery of a Jet Food Store in the county seat of Milledgeville. As with any killing of a police officer, it was a high-profile affair. Most of the county's judges attended Robinson's funeral, and many sent flowers. To ensure an impartial hearing, the trial had to be moved two counties away.

Deputy Robinson's killing generated lots of local press.

Like the great majority of people arrested for serious crimes, Holsey could not afford a lawyer; he had to depend on the court to appoint one for him. But it is reasonable to wonder why any court would have chosen Andy Prince for the job. Beyond his chronic alcohol problem and the financial judgments piling up against him, Prince did not generally handle cases in the Milledgeville area.

As it turns out, little thought was given to his suitability. The selection process in the Holsey case conjures up the old military trope about volunteering by means of everyone else taking a step backward. "Because of who the victim was, nobody within the circuit wanted to be appointed to this case," Prince later testified. "And I told [the judge], sure, I'd take it."

On one condition: He insisted on picking his co-counsel. Prince had handled capital cases before, and with some success, but he'd only worked on the more traditional guilt/innocence part of the representation—never the crucial sentencing phase. He contacted Rob Westin, the lawyer he'd collaborated with previously. Westin said he'd do it, but then reversed himself in short order. Westin "had gone to the solicitor's office in Baldwin County," Prince later explained, "and had been told that they couldn't believe that he was representing Mr. Holsey and that if he continued to represent him he would never get another deal worked out with that office."

His next attempt to secure co-counsel failed as well; the lawyer quit after a few months on the case and took a job with the state attorney general's office. Seven months before the trial date, Prince finally found his "second chair" in Brenda Trammell, a lawyer who practiced in Morgan County, where the case was to be tried: "She was about the only one that would take it."

As for Trammell, she assumed she was selected "based on proximity," as she later testified. "I had not tried to trial a death penalty case and I waited for him to tell me what to do, and there really was not a lot of direction in that way."

There was still one thing missing. What distinguishes capital murder trials from noncapital ones is the penalty phase, wherein the jury hears additional evidence and determines the appropriate punishment—usually choosing between death and life without parole. During this phase, a "mitigation specialist," whom the American Bar Association (ABA) describes as "an indispensable member of the defense team throughout all capital proceedings," gathers information that might convince jurors to spare the defendant's life. Indeed, the court provided Holsey's defense team with sufficient funds to hire a mitigation specialist, but no one was ever able to account for the money. Prince later said that he didn't remember what happened to it, only that he was certain no mitigation specialist was ever hired. Which may explain Trammell's response to this question from Holsey's appeals lawyer.

Q: When you got into the case, was there any theory with respect to mitigation in the event that he was convicted?
A: No, sir.

Mitigation theory or not, Holsey went on trial for his life in February 1997.

There is a mantra among competent capital defense lawyers: "Death is different." By this they mean that defending against the state-sanctioned execution of a human being requires extraordinary measures, and that a capital case must be handled with even greater care than a "regular" murder trial. "It is universally accepted," the ABA states, "that the responsibilities of defense counsel in a death penalty case are uniquely demanding."

 

The Scottsboro Boys, in 1933, with attorney Samuel Leibowitz, who represented them following the US Supreme Court ruling. Fred Hiroshige/Decatur Daily via Wikipedia

This is not a new concept. More than 80 years ago, in an infamous capital rape case against nine black teenagers dubbed the Scottsboro Boys, a trial judge appointed the entire Scottsboro, Alabama, bar to represent the defendants—a showing of false magnanimity that the Supreme Court ultimately rejected, noting that it fell far short of the constitutional requirement for the appointment of counsel. An accused person "requires the guiding hand of counsel at every step in the proceedings," the opinion concluded.

But Holsey's lawyers did not provide that guiding hand. They were an odd couple with an awkward rapport. While Prince was a drunk, Trammell was a part-time minister who eschewed alcohol. She recalled stopping by her colleague's hotel room once during the trial to find him drinking, and never stopped by again. When he called her at home one night during the proceedings, slurring his words, she told him not to call her there anymore.

Their inability to communicate had a predictably devastating effect. In this exchange, Trammell is responding to questions from an appeals lawyer about her cross-examination of the state's DNA expert, who had testified that the victim's blood was found on Holsey's shoes:

Q: When were you told that you would cross-examine Michele?
A: Before lunch.
Q: When did she testify?
A: She was testifying. We took a break for us to do the cross, for lunch, and during lunch I had to learn about DNA.
Q: Did you know, had you had any training about DNA before that?
A: No, sir.
Q: Did you know anything at all about the DNA process?
A: No, sir…I was calling during lunch the capital defense people, to ask them what am I supposed to ask about DNA?
Q: And did you learn…being thrown into that, that questioning concerning DNA is an extremely technical and complicated area?
A: Definitely.

On February 11, 1997, both sides made their closing arguments and the judge gave final instructions to the jury. Six hours later, the jurors found Holsey guilty of armed robbery and of the deputy's murder. That was the night Prince called Trammell. Drunk. The only time he ever called her at home. He was concerned, she testified, that the sentencing "was not going to be good."

The state presented its case for death the following morning. Eight witnesses detailed Holsey's criminal background. Beyond the crimes for which he had just been convicted, he had pleaded guilty to two counts of aggravated assault 5 years earlier, and an armed robbery with serious bodily injury 14 years earlier. There was considerable dispute over whether the victims in the later incident had initiated the aggravated assaults, but in the end it hardly mattered—Holsey had stabbed a guy four times and admitted to it. By the time they rested their case, the state's lawyers had painted a stark portrait of a violent man with a violent past who now had murdered a faithful public servant in the line of duty.

The defense barely challenged that portrayal. They called several witnesses to prolong the useless debate over who was at fault in the aggravated assaults. Two employees from the county jails testified that he hadn't caused any problems at their facilities. Three people from the local Pizza Hut testified that he'd been a good employee for six months or so, until he lost his job when he went to jail for the assaults. The owner of the bar where the assaults had happened said he "had heard something about" Holsey's bed wetting, and drew some vague conclusions about the mother's neglect of her children and lack of parenting skills. Angela, Holsey's younger sister, begged the jury to let him live, but provided nothing compelling about her brother or their family. Which left only one witness to convey anything of substance: his oldest sister, Regina.

Robert Holsey, top right, with sisters Angela (blue dress), Regina (pale green), two half sisters, and a cousin.

Regina Holsey should have been a star defense witness. She was a deputy United States Marshal, an ex-Marine, and a veteran of Operation Desert Storm—not to mention a former employee of the Baldwin County Sheriff's Department, where the victim had worked. Yet her testimony reads like an underdeveloped roll of film: There are hints of powerful evidence that would cast her brother in a more sympathetic light, but the details never fully emerge. Essential facts are mentioned almost in passing: that their father was shot and paralyzed by the police when her mother was pregnant with Wayne. (The family called him Wayne, not Robert.) That he did poorly in school and was considered borderline mentally disabled. That their mother beat the children. That he was a stutterer, and that his sister Angela and mother, Mary, had mental-health problems.

The record reads almost as though Prince felt he was wasting the jury's time. On four separate occasions, with his most critical witness on the stand, he asked Regina to read from isolated portions of crucial documents rather than guiding her, and the jury, through them:

Q: And I'm not, again, just—I'm going to hit a few highlights. This is a juvenile complaint report dated 6-27-65. And I want you to read just the highlighted portion from that second page of that document. And the jury will be able to read it all, but I'm not going to take that much time. I'm going to hit some of the—would you read those highlighted portions, please?

A: The first part says Mr. Courson advised me that Robert was basically a runaway case. He has no supervision at home and refuses to return home. Says Mrs. Holsey would not go to the school, and sent a note with Robert. Robert was not allowed to return. When he tried to come back, the principal called the police to remove Robert.

Trammell's closing argument is even more cursory, perhaps because she didn't learn she was going to present it until the night before. In a nine-and-a-half-page speech laden with religious references—the lawyer/minister uses the word "God" 16 times and "Jesus" another 5—she managed to condense the mitigating evidence for her client into the space of a single paragraph.

Not all of us are abused and neglected, cursed at. Not all of us grow up with no father, with no mother, in essence who are neglected and are left alone, who are beaten. You know, you have got the records of Angela Holsey. Look at those when you go out. With a foster placement plan that says, "We can't send her back to a parent that won't encourage her in anything; it in actuality encourages her violence." Who is borderline mentally retarded. Wayne is borderline mentally retarded. Does that excuse him? No, there is no excuse. Who stuttered, who wet the bed until he was 12, and no one even takes him to the doctor for it. Who grew up by himself.

She ended with a plea for mercy. As inebriated as Prince may have been when he'd called her before, he was correct in his prediction. In less than two hours, the jury returned with a death sentence.


Trouble caught up with Andy Prince shortly after the trial. Still facing tens of thousands of dollars in judgments, he stole the last $800 from the estate he'd already looted. He then accepted a plea deal related to his fight with the neighbors, receiving probation for disorderly conduct. Eight months after Holsey's sentencing, Prince surrendered his law license, and six months after that, in May 1998, he was indicted for his theft and sent to prison for 16 months. By the time he was called to testify as part of Holsey's appeal, he was out of prison, sober, and getting by as a freelance paralegal. From the appeals transcript:

Q: Did you attempt to conceal your difficulty with alcohol from [the trial judge]?
A: I didn't attempt to conceal it. I just didn't parade it around. At the time, I didn't consider I was having any trouble with alcohol.
Q: And why is that?
A: You know, I could drink a quart of liquor every night and work all day long. I thought I was doing fine.
Q: Since you have become sober, do you have a different opinion now?
A: Absolutely.
Q: And what is your opinion now?
A: Well, what I considered was doing fine at the time was just barely getting by.

Asked whether he should have resigned the Holsey appointment, Prince, who passed away in 2011, replied, "I shouldn't have been representing anybody in any case."

Just as alcoholics see things more clearly when they stop drinking, death penalty cases often come into better focus when good lawyers take over from bad ones. Holsey's case certainly did. But did it matter? The state of Georgia argued that it didn't. Sure, maybe Holsey's lawyer was plastered every night, and maybe another attorney might have handled it better. But Holsey was guilty of murder, the state's attorneys argued, and the best lawyers in the country couldn't change that fact. His appeal was little more than crying over spilled milk.

Capital cases are more than questions of guilt or innocence, though. Often the biggest question is whether the guilty should live or die. And the disturbing details of Holsey's early years only came to light as his appeals unfolded. It turned out, for instance, that his school had promoted him socially year after year despite his inability to grasp basic material. As early as first grade, Holsey was well behind his fellow students—his math and reading abilities never got past the fourth-grade level. As one of his junior high school teachers put it in an affidavit, he "just wasn't playing with a full deck." Two doctors testified that Holsey was not merely borderline, but was actually mentally disabled, which by law would make him ineligible for the death penalty.

There was far more the jury never heard—riveting testimony from witnesses who would have gladly shared the information had anyone bothered to ask. Holsey's mother, Mary, it turned out, was legendary around the neighborhood for the fearsome physical abuse she inflicted on her children. If Wayne opened the refrigerator looking for food because he was hungry, he was beaten. If he crossed the street to pick blackberries, he was beaten. If he wet the bed, which he did until he was a teenager, he was beaten. He was beaten with hands, curling irons, extension cords, high-heel shoes, cooking spoons. In the house, on the corner. The physical abuse was accompanied by verbal brutality: "butthole." "Sissy ass." "Motherfucker." "Dumbo." "Buck teeth motherfucking monkey."

All of this was summed up in the affidavit of Sandra Francis, a woman who grew up in the same neighborhood as the Holsey children before going off to college and graduate school in New Jersey: "I remember saying prayers of thanks and gratitude to God that I was not one of Mary Holsey's children," Francis testified. "We called her unit in the projects the 'torture chamber.'"


That other kids called the Holsey's unit "the torture chamber" was just one detail his lawyers never raised during his sentencing—or ever bothered to find out.

By the end of the appellate hearing, a much clearer portrayal of Robert Wayne Holsey had emerged: a stuttering, bed-wetting man with very low intellectual function who was raised in poverty and terrorized by a vicious, violent, and psychotic mother. The judge concluded that Holsey's trial defense team had "failed to prepare and present any meaningful mitigation evidence as a defense to the death penalty…

In light of this lack of any significant preparation or presentation of such defense, no one can seriously believe that the Petitioner received the constitutional guarantees of the Sixth Amendment right to effective assistance of counsel.

Holsey was going to get a new sentencing hearing—or was he? The state appealed to the Georgia Supreme Court, which had to consider the same two questions that the court below had just answered "no" and "yes": Had Andy Prince mounted a competent defense? And would it have made any difference if he had?

There is a reason that the "entire Scottsboro bar" did not satisfy the constitutional right to counsel when that Alabama trial judge made his outlandish appointment. Fifty-two years later, the Supreme Court, in the case of Strickland v. Washington, explained:

That a person who happens to be a lawyer is present at trial alongside the accused, however, is not enough to satisfy the constitutional command. The Sixth Amendment recognizes the right to the assistance of counsel because it envisions counsel's playing a role that is critical to the ability of the adversarial system to produce just results.

In other words, whether it be the entire bar or just one person, whoever represents the accused has a far greater obligation than just standing around with a law license in his pocket. But the court didn't stop there. If it had, everyone accused of a crime might go looking for the worst attorney he could find as a sort of insurance policy. To prevail on appeal, the condemned must demonstrate that if his lawyer hadn't done such a poor job, the verdict or sentence might reasonably have been different. And there's the rub.

The Georgia Supreme Court opinion in the Holsey case does not mention Andy Prince's alcoholism. It doesn't mention his arrests, his disbarment, or his imprisonment. What it does say is that Holsey's death sentence was vacated "on the basis of trial counsel's alleged ineffectiveness in preparing and presenting mitigation evidence." Alleged. The opinion actually makes it sound as if Prince and Trammell did an outstanding job, describing the evidence found on appeal as "largely cumulative of evidence presented at trial, which highlighted Holsey's limited intelligence, his troubled and abusive home life, his positive contributions at home and elsewhere, and his mother's and sister's mental health issues." Concluding that the result would not have been different, the court reimposed the death sentence.

How do judges determine whether there is a reasonable probability of a different result? In Strickland, the Supreme Court said the decision should be objective, assuming that "the decisionmaker is reasonably, conscientiously, and impartially applying the standards that govern the decision." But is the decision really objective? The death penalty is an individual moral choice. In Georgia—as in most of the 32 states that allow capital punishment—a single juror's change of heart can convert a death sentence into a life sentence. So the Georgia Supreme Court was saying that, in its objective opinion, the new evidence would not have changed any juror's mind.

Apparently the court was not moved by the affidavit of Larry Johnson. One of the Holsey jurors, Johnson had also been a juror in the 1991 capital case of William Brooks, who was represented by a team of expert death penalty lawyers and received a life sentence. Johnson provided his affidavit against the specific advice of the state Attorney General's Office, which sent a letter to the Holsey jurors advising them it was in their best interest not to discuss the case with Holsey's defense team. Johnson considered the tone of the letter "inappropriate"—he knew it was his prerogative to speak to whomever he wanted. Here's what else he said:

I was left to assume that Mr. Holsey was one of the "worst of the worst" in our society. I figured that if a deeper or fuller explanation for his violence had been available, surely the lawyers would have presented everything that they could.

And then he reached the rub.

Had Mr. Holsey's lawyers provided us jurors with even a small part of the wealth of information concerning…his background which I now know was available, it would have made a difference.

But whether it would have made a difference to Larry Johnson was of no consequence. To borrow from George W. Bush, the justices of the Georgia Supreme Court were the deciders, and it made no difference to them.

Holsey lost again in federal district court. Thanks to a provision of the absurdly named Anti-Terrorism and Effective Death Penalty Act of 1996, the only question that remained for the federal courts was whether the Georgia Supreme Court had acted unreasonably, and the district court readily concluded it had not. As the Georgia court had done, the district judge simply presumed that Prince had done a deficient job—his drinking, theft, disbarment, and imprisonment was relegated to a footnote in the opinion.

Now Holsey was down to his final appeal, in the 11th Circuit Federal Court of Appeals. A three-judge panel heard the case, and came back with three separate opinions. Judge Rosemary Barkett wrote that the Georgia Supreme Court was indeed unreasonable: The sentencing testimony, she wrote, "hardly comports with the 'Torture Chamber' described by Holsey's neighbors and family members." And Prince had admitted that he never even considered presenting evidence of mental disability: "This is not surprising given his own testimony that he was drinking heavily during this time and the malpractice suit and criminal charges concerning his theft of client funds." Barkett likened Holsey's case to that of Richard Cooper, a strikingly similar case in which the condemned man was granted a new sentencing by the 11th Circuit:

I cannot believe that one juror hearing all of the mitigating evidence would not credit Holsey's experts and lay witnesses and find Holsey to be either fully mentally retarded or borderline mentally retarded and so diminished in his cognitive and behavioral capacity as to be either ineligible for or undeserving of the death penalty. When combined with Holsey's evidence of his horrific child abuse, none of which was presented to his sentencing jury, there is a substantial probability that one juror would not have voted in favor of the death penalty had this evidence been introduced by competent counsel.

Judge Edward Carnes found precisely the opposite after comparing the testimony from the sentencing and the appeals hearing in great detail. He conceded that some of the new evidence would have helped Holsey at sentencing, "but at this stage of the case, after the state court has adjudicated his claim on the merits, that helpful evidence is not helpful enough," he wrote.

Carnes did not dispute the similarity between the Holsey and Cooper cases, but referred to Cooper as an "outlier." And yet the outcome in that case confirmed that effective lawyering does make a difference: Just last month, after hearing all the evidence, the resentencing jury recommended a life sentence for Richard Cooper.

The tie was broken by Judge J.L. Edmondson, who agreed with Carnes. Edmondson appears to have written his concurrence mostly to complain about the length of his colleague's opinion. ("It seems to me that the incidence of long opinions has been on the rise in the last decade, or, at least, more are coming across my desk.") His own opinion, predictably brief, performed some linguistic gymnastics to conclude that the Georgia Supreme Court's determination fell "within the outside border of the range of reasonable."

Which is how, despite the drinking, the stealing, the racist outburst, the abysmal courtroom performance, the disbarment, and the ultimate imprisonment of his lead attorney, an intellectually disabled man has ended up on the verge of execution.

The death penalty is on temporary hold in Georgia, pending a state Supreme Court ruling on whether the public is entitled to know how lethal injection drugs are made and who is providing them for executions. The relevant Georgia statute deems this information a "confidential state secret." A decision could come down any day, and if the law is allowed to stand, Holsey's last hope will be clemency from the State Board of Pardons and Paroles. (Update: On May 19, the court voted to uphold the law.)

Clemency, a legal concept hundreds of years old, is most commonly defined as a showing of compassion or forgiveness in judging or punishing. Georgia is one of just a handful of states that give this power to a board, rather than a governor. The five board members are appointed to staggered terms, with a majority needed to commute a death sentence to life without parole.

Holsey will come before them with compelling evidence: a remarkable prison record of obedience and compliance during his 17 years on death row, a sincere and consistent commitment to his faith demonstrated by years of service, and an incredible letter of support from a man who spent 11 years on the row with him and was fortunate enough to receive his own clemency. The board will also have evidence never heard by his jury—of his intellectual disability, of deprivation, of the violence of his mother's torture chamber. And of course, of the lawyer, the drunken, disgraced lawyer assigned to him by the state that now wants to kill him.

Georgia's lawyers will say that none of this would have made a difference. They may say that it doesn't make a difference even now. But it does.

Texas approves textbooks with Moses as Founding Father

by Michael Stone

Christian conservatives win, children lose: Texas textbooks will teach public school students that the Founding Fathers based the Constitution on the Bible, and the American system of democracy was inspired by Moses.

On Friday the Republican-controlled Texas State Board of Education voted along party lines 10-5 to approve the biased and inaccurate textbooks. The vote signals a victory for Christian conservatives in Texas, and a disappointing defeat for historical accuracy and the education of innocent children.

The textbooks were written to align with instructional standards that the Board of Education approved back in 2010 with the explicit intention of forcing social studies teaching to adhere to a conservative Christian agenda. The standards require teachers to emphasize America’s so called “Christian heritage.”

In essence, Christian conservatives in Texas have successfully forced a false historical narrative into public school textbooks that portray Moses as an influence on the Constitution and the Old Testament as the root of democracy.

Critics called the whole process into question after publishers posted a number of last-minute changes to the textbooks yesterday, leaving board members and observers without time to figure out exactly what was in the approved texts.

According to reports, scholars did not have an opportunity to review and comment on the numerous changes publishers have submitted since the last public hearing. Some of those changes appeared to have been negotiated with state board members behind closed doors.

Texas Freedom Network President Kathy Miller issued the following statement:

“What we saw today shows very clearly that the process the State Board of Education uses to adopt textbooks is a sham. This board adopted textbooks with numerous late changes that the public had little opportunity to review and comment on and that even board members themselves admitted they had not read. They can’t honestly say they know what’s in these textbooks, which could be in classrooms for a decade.”

In addition to Miller’s complaints about the process, the Texas Freedom Network issued a statement on today’s State Board of Education vote to adopt new social studies textbooks for Texas public schools, noting:

the new textbooks also include passages that suggest Moses influenced the writing of the Constitution and that the roots of democracy can be found in the Old Testament. Scholars from across the country have said such claims are inaccurate and mislead students about the historical record.

Emile Lester, a professor of history in the Department of Political Science and International Affairs at the University of Mary Washington, claim the textbooks contain “inventions and exaggerations” about Christianity’s influence on the Founding Fathers and, by extension, the formation of American democracy.

Credible historians warn the misguided attempt to suggest biblical origins for the Constitution would lead students to believe that “Moses was the first American.”

Scholars claim the decision to include the biblical figure of Moses in social studies education is part of a concerted effort by Christian extremists to promote the idea that the United States is a “redeemer nation” – giving a divine justification for supposed American exceptionalism.

The proposed textbooks are deeply flawed, and have no place in a public school classroom. It is wrong and factually incorrect to teach Texas public school students that the Founding Fathers based the Constitution on the Bible.

Despite the efforts of Christian conservatives to pervert and twist U.S. history to satisfy their religious superstition, the fact remains Moses was not the first American, and America is not a Christian nation.

Children deserve the truth.

Automation Makes Us Dumb

Human intelligence is withering as computers do more, but there’s a solution.

By Nicholas Carr

Artificial intelligence has arrived. Today’s computers are discerning and sharp. They can sense the environment, untangle knotty problems, make subtle judgments and learn from experience. They don’t think the way we think—they’re still as mindless as toothpicks—but they can replicate many of our most prized intellectual talents. Dazzled by our brilliant new machines, we’ve been rushing to hand them all sorts of sophisticated jobs that we used to do ourselves.

But our growing reliance on computer automation may be exacting a high price. Worrisome evidence suggests that our own intelligence is withering as we become more dependent on the artificial variety. Rather than lifting us up, smart software seems to be dumbing us down.

It has been a slow process. The first wave of automation rolled through U.S. industry after World War II, when manufacturers began installing electronically controlled equipment in their plants. The new machines made factories more efficient and companies more profitable. They were also heralded as emancipators. By relieving factory hands of routine chores, they would do more than boost productivity. They would elevate laborers, giving them more invigorating jobs and more valuable talents. The new technology would be ennobling.

Then, in the 1950s, a Harvard Business School professor named James Bright went into the field to study automation’s actual effects on a variety of industries, from heavy manufacturing to oil refining to bread baking. Factory conditions, he discovered, were anything but uplifting. More often than not, the new machines were leaving workers with drabber, less demanding jobs. An automated milling machine, for example, didn’t transform the metalworker into a more creative artisan; it turned him into a pusher of buttons.

Bright concluded that the overriding effect of automation was (in the jargon of labor economists) to “de-skill” workers rather than to “up-skill” them. “The lesson should be increasingly clear,” he wrote in 1966. “Highly complex equipment” did not require “skilled operators. The ‘skill’ can be built into the machine.”

We are learning that lesson again today on a much broader scale. As software has become capable of analysis and decision-making, automation has leapt out of the factory and into the white-collar world. Computers are taking over the kinds of knowledge work long considered the preserve of well-educated, well-trained professionals: Pilots rely on computers to fly planes; doctors consult them in diagnosing ailments; architects use them to design buildings. Automation’s new wave is hitting just about everyone.

Computers aren’t taking away all the jobs done by talented people. But computers are changing the way the work gets done. And the evidence is mounting that the same de-skilling effect that ate into the talents of factory workers last century is starting to gnaw away at professional skills, even highly specialized ones. Yesterday’s machine operators are today’s computer operators.

Just look skyward. Since their invention a century ago, autopilots have helped to make air travel safer and more efficient. That happy trend continued with the introduction of computerized “fly-by-wire” jets in the 1970s. But now, aviation experts worry that we’ve gone too far. We have shifted so many cockpit tasks from humans to computers that pilots are losing their edge—and beginning to exhibit what the British aviation researcher Matthew Ebbatson calls “skill fade.”

In 2007, while working on his doctoral thesis at Cranfield University’s School of Engineering, Mr. Ebbatson conducted an experiment with a group of airline pilots. He had them perform a difficult maneuver in a flight simulator—bringing a Boeing jet with a crippled engine in for a landing in rough weather—and measured subtle indicators of their skill, such as the precision with which they maintained the plane’s airspeed.

When he compared the simulator readings with the aviators’ actual flight records, he found a close connection between a pilot’s adroitness at the controls and the amount of time the pilot had recently spent flying planes manually. “Flying skills decay quite rapidly towards the fringes of ‘tolerable’ performance without relatively frequent practice,” Mr. Ebbatson concluded. But computers now handle most flight operations between takeoff and touchdown—so “frequent practice” is exactly what pilots are not getting.

Even a slight decay in manual flying ability can risk tragedy. A rusty pilot is more likely to make a mistake in an emergency. Automation-related pilot errors have been implicated in several recent air disasters, including the 2009 crashes of Continental Flight 3407 in Buffalo and Air France Flight 447 in the Atlantic Ocean, and the botched landing of Asiana Flight 214 in San Francisco in 2013.

Late last year, a report from a Federal Aviation Administration task force on cockpit technology documented a growing link between crashes and an overreliance on automation. Pilots have become “accustomed to watching things happen, and reacting, instead of being proactive,” the panel warned. The FAA is now urging airlines to get pilots to spend more time flying by hand.

As software improves, the people using it become less likely to sharpen their own know-how. Applications that offer lots of prompts and tips are often to blame; simpler, less solicitous programs push people harder to think, act and learn.

Ten years ago, information scientists at Utrecht University in the Netherlands had a group of people carry out complicated analytical and planning tasks using either rudimentary software that provided no assistance or sophisticated software that offered a great deal of aid. The researchers found that the people using the simple software developed better strategies, made fewer mistakes and developed a deeper aptitude for the work. The people using the more advanced software, meanwhile, would often “aimlessly click around” when confronted with a tricky problem. The supposedly helpful software actually short-circuited their thinking and learning.

The philosopher Hubert Dreyfus of the University of California, Berkeley, wrote in 2002 that human expertise develops through “experience in a variety of situations, all seen from the same perspective but requiring different tactical decisions.” In other words, our skills get sharper only through practice, when we use them regularly to overcome different sorts of difficult challenges.

The goal of modern software, by contrast, is to ease our way through such challenges. Arduous, painstaking work is exactly what programmers are most eager to automate—after all, that is where the immediate efficiency gains tend to lie. In other words, a fundamental tension ripples between the interests of the people doing the automation and the interests of the people doing the work.

Nevertheless, automation’s scope continues to widen. With the rise of electronic health records, physicians increasingly rely on software templates to guide them through patient exams. The programs incorporate valuable checklists and alerts, but they also make medicine more routinized and formulaic—and distance doctors from their patients.

In a study conducted in 2007-08 in upstate New York, SUNY Albany professor Timothy Hoff interviewed more than 75 primary-care physicians who had adopted computerized systems. The doctors felt that the software was impoverishing their understanding of patients, diminishing their “ability to make informed decisions around diagnosis and treatment.”

Harvard Medical School professor Beth Lown, in a 2012 journal article written with her student Dayron Rodriquez, warned that when doctors become “screen-driven,” following a computer’s prompts rather than “the patient’s narrative thread,” their thinking can become constricted. In the worst cases, they may miss important diagnostic signals.

The risk isn’t just theoretical. In a recent paper published in the journal Diagnosis, three medical researchers—including Hardeep Singh, director of the health policy, quality and informatics program at the Veterans Administration Medical Center in Houston—examined the misdiagnosis of Thomas Eric Duncan, the first person to die of Ebola in the U.S., at Texas Health Presbyterian Hospital Dallas. They argue that the digital templates used by the hospital’s clinicians to record patient information probably helped to induce a kind of tunnel vision. “These highly constrained tools,” the researchers write, “are optimized for data capture but at the expense of sacrificing their utility for appropriate triage and diagnosis, leading users to miss the forest for the trees.” Medical software, they write, is no “replacement for basic history-taking, examination skills, and critical thinking.”

Even creative trades are increasingly suffering from automation’s de-skilling effects. Computer-aided design has helped architects to construct buildings with unusual shapes and materials, but when computers are brought into the design process too early, they can deaden the aesthetic sensitivity and conceptual insight that come from sketching and model-building.

Working by hand, psychological studies have found, is better for unlocking designers’ originality, expands their working memory and strengthens their tactile sense. A sketchpad is an “intelligence amplifier,” says Nigel Cross, a design professor at the Open University in the U.K.

When software takes over, manual skills wane. In his book “The Thinking Hand,” the Finnish architect Juhani Pallasmaa argues that overreliance on computers makes it harder for designers to appreciate the subtlest, most human qualities of their buildings. “The false precision and apparent finiteness of the computer image” narrow a designer’s perspective, he writes, which can mean technically stunning but emotionally sterile work. As University of Miami architecture professor Jacob Brillhart wrote in a 2011 paper, modern computer systems can translate sets of dimensions into precise 3-D renderings with incredible speed, but they also breed “more banal, lazy, and uneventful designs that are void of intellect, imagination and emotion.”

We do not have to resign ourselves to this situation, however. Automation needn’t remove challenges from our work and diminish our skills. Those losses stem from what ergonomists and other scholars call “technology-centered automation,” a design philosophy that has come to dominate the thinking of programmers and engineers.

When system designers begin a project, they first consider the capabilities of computers, with an eye toward delegating as much of the work as possible to the software. The human operator is assigned whatever is left over, which usually consists of relatively passive chores such as entering data, following templates and monitoring displays.

This philosophy traps people in a vicious cycle of de-skilling. By isolating them from hard work, it dulls their skills and increases the odds that they will make mistakes. When those mistakes happen, designers respond by seeking to further restrict people’s responsibilities—spurring a new round of de-skilling.

Because the prevailing technique “emphasizes the needs of technology over those of humans,” it forces people “into a supporting role, one for which we are most unsuited,” writes the cognitive scientist and design researcher Donald Norman of the University of California, San Diego.

There is an alternative.

In “human-centered automation,” the talents of people take precedence. Systems are designed to keep the human operator in what engineers call “the decision loop”—the continuing process of action, feedback and judgment-making. That keeps workers attentive and engaged and promotes the kind of challenging practice that strengthens skills.

In this model, software plays an essential but secondary role. It takes over routine functions that a human operator has already mastered, issues alerts when unexpected situations arise, provides fresh information that expands the operator’s perspective and counters the biases that often distort human thinking. The technology becomes the expert’s partner, not the expert’s replacement.

Pushing automation in a more humane direction doesn’t require any technical breakthroughs. It requires a shift in priorities and a renewed focus on human strengths and weaknesses.

Airlines, for example, could program cockpit computers to shift control back and forth between computer and pilot during a flight. By keeping the aviator alert and active, that small change could make flying even safer.

In accounting, medicine and other professions, software could be far less intrusive, giving people room to exercise their own judgment before serving up algorithmically derived suggestions.

When it comes to the computerization of knowledge work, writes John Lee of the University of Iowa, “a less-automated approach, which places the automation in the role of critiquing the operator, has met with much more success” than the typical practice of supplanting human judgment with machine calculations. The best decision-support systems provide professionals with “alternative interpretations, hypotheses, or choices.”

Human-centered automation doesn’t constrain progress. Rather, it guides progress onto a more humanistic path, providing an antidote to the all-too-common, misanthropic view that venerates computers and denigrates people.

One of the most exciting examples of the human-focused approach is known as adaptive automation. It employs cutting-edge sensors and interpretive algorithms to monitor people’s physical and mental states, then uses that information to shift tasks and responsibilities between human and computer. When the system senses that an operator is struggling with a difficult procedure, it allocates more tasks to the computer to free the operator of distractions. But when it senses that the operator’s interest is waning, it ratchets up the person’s workload to capture their attention and build their skills.

We are amazed by our computers, and we should be. But we shouldn’t let our enthusiasm lead us to underestimate our own talents. Even the smartest software lacks the common sense, ingenuity and verve of the skilled professional. In cockpits, offices or examination rooms, human experts remain indispensable. Their insight, ingenuity and intuition, honed through hard work and seasoned real-world judgment, can’t be replicated by algorithms or robots.

If we let our own skills fade by relying too much on automation, we are going to render ourselves less capable, less resilient and more subservient to our machines. We will create a world more fit for robots than for us.

Oscar Pistorius Now … Elective Amputation in 10 Years?

Oscar Pistorious’ – nicknamed “Blade Runner” and “The Fastest Man On No Legs” – was the first ever amputee to compete in the World Olympics.

Ever since the announcement that Pistorius would race for South Africa in the 2012 Olympics there has been much public debate over whether or not the “cheetah legs” he is running on give him an unfair advantage. A thorough investigation in 2008 purported to demonstrate that Pistorius’ cheetah legs, while they do give him some leverage over non-amputees, such as lower energy expenditure when running at top speed, when all factors are considered (such as greater inefficiency in starting) he cannot be said to have an advantage overall. Many, however, still take issue with the ruling, for various reasons, and find his inclusion in the competition controversial. The question “Is Oscar Pistorius ‘enhanced’?” persists: a point of dispute that will surely gain wider public discourse if he, or his relay team, is awarded a medal.

That an amputee could be considered “enhanced”, even within a narrow domain, is a relatively novel phenomenon, and represents a notable milestone in amputation technology. Thinking broadly and more long-term, some have pointed out that the milestone Pistorius represents is only the first of many yet to come in terms of amputees out-performing non-amputees, whether in circumstances with well defined parameters and restrictions, such as the Olympics, or in everyday human tasks. It’s only a matter of time, some have suggested, before amputation technology can provide amputees with limbs so similar or superior in function to real ones, that it becomes routine for amputees to out-perform non-amputees in a number of complex and diverse tasks, including those that require precise sensory ability in the limb itself, as well as the integration of synthetic sensory data and nervous system. Prosthetics could also one day provide amputees with extrasensory capabilities, such as: optics, chemical sensitivity, echolocation, infrared etc. Could such a reality, many ask, invert public opinion and preference regarding amputation, making amputated limbs a desirable characteristic? And what if, at such point, people without illness or injury desire to amputate their own limbs?

As far out as it may sound, “elective amputation”, choosing to undergo the surgical removal of a limb, or portion thereof, has received a good deal of discussion in recent years, in particular after two disabled patients decided to undergo amputation to improve the function of an injured extremity. The most recent, in May of last year, a young man known as “Milo”, a patient of Dr. Oskar Aszmann (of Vienna School of Medicine), made news around the world for deciding to trade his biological hand for a prosthetic one. Ten years prior, Milo had injured his shoulder in a motor vehicle accident, leaving his hand with very little sensory or motor ability. Recognizing the relative sophistication of current era prosthetic technology, and how the device could improve his life, Milo went without hesitation into the operating room, and professed it a decision made without regret. Milo was the second patient of Dr. Aszmann to electively amputate, the first (and first ever, it is believed) being ‘Patrick’, a young man who lost the fingers of his left hand in an electrical accident, and underwent prosthetic surgery in 2010 to obtain a bionic one.

In futurist circles, many characterize events of this nature as congruent with general techno-social trends underway: the surpassing of man by machine, and the gradual integration of the biological and non-biological. Futurist bloggers and social media figures confidently herald Milo and Patrick’s decisions as harbingers of times to come; where prosthetic technology becomes so exceedingly superior, functionally and aesthetically, that even those without injury or disability would electively amputate their limbs. Those outside futurism have formed similar abstractions. Medical ethicist Dr. Bennette Foddy of Oxford University, for instance, argues “Now as the technology improves, we will eventually get to the point where the prosthetics function better than people’s original hands, and we may see people with perfectly healthy, functional hands, wishing to have a cybernetic replacement.” Many in the field of bioethics, however, responded to news of Milo and Patrick with concern. Due to the permanent nature, and the chance that a more organic means of improvement may later be found, many believe that amputation should only be offered in dire circumstance. Other patients, however, are on their way to elective amputation, and as the technology improves, we can expect such an operation to become more popular.

Since Milo’s surgery, a good deal more progress has been made in prosthetic technology research. For instance, a robotic finger is now able to differentiate textures better than humans, and identify 115 textures with 95% accuracy. Also, researchers at Sandia National Laboratories have broke engineering ground in the development of a body-machine interface for limbs. Using bio-compatible interface scaffolds, the artificial limb could be attached directly to the body, including the nerves, making it possible for the new limb to have the same sensory-motor characteristics as the real one. In addition, 3D printing technology has advanced to the point where it is now commercially feasible to print customized artificial limbs, further increasing functionality, but more notably, opening up a wealth of aesthetic possibilities.

Research and development relevant to advancing the field of prosthetics is expected to continue progressing at a considerable rate, and some believe that within the next few decades we will see prosthetics that are superior in every way to their biological counterparts. Anders Sandberg, perhaps more optimistic than most, predicts that in approximately ten years time we can expect prosthetics significantly better than the real thing.

But when this point is reached, however soon it may be, can we expect a substantial number to undergo elective amputation for the sake of enhancement? Or, will the majority prefer less permanent/invasive means of limb augmentation, such as the use of an exoskeleton?

Preferences and predictions on the matter are divided. Transhumanists, on the one hand, appear to tend towards preferring elective amputation. A poll of Transhumanist Facebook groups “Singularity Network” and “Human 2.0” posing the question indicated a preference for amputation over exoskeleton devices by a factor of 2 to 1. In addition, elective amputation, and the notion of replacing body parts and systems more generally, is arguably more consistent with Transhumanist philosophy in the longer term (in terms of perpetually increasing complexity, for example), since the exoskeleton route entails unnecessary upper bounds. Outside Transhumanism, however, most find the notion undesirable, and/or “too radical”, and many, even professionals in the technology field, believe the majority preference will be for exoskeletons. Noel Sharkey, PhD in psychology, chartered electrical engineer, and computer scientist, is doubtful that elective amputation will ever catch on, believing that thought controlled exoskeletons will be more appealing. He writes: “If I want a really really strong arm, rather than having it attached to my body, it would be much better if it was just alongside me and just moved when I moved and did whatever I wanted. I think you might see that.” I’m inclined to believe that those with chronic injury or illness (affecting any part of the body), whether Transhumanist or not, are more likely to feel positively towards elective amputation, since they appear, in general, to have a better understanding of not only the limits of native biological systems, and their vulnerabilities, but the impedance an (undesigned) body has on subjective well-being and function.

Although the appeal of future amputation technology itself, in terms of aesthetics and functionality, will play a substantial role in generating a desire to electively amputate, amputation is a very serious endeavor, physiologically and psychologically, and thus it is reasonable to assume that forming a preference for it, and actually making the decision to amputate, will depend upon many additional and contextual factors. I propose that elective amputation is unlikely to be broadly adopted without:

-an explicit and holistic disposition towards enhancement

-a recognized branch of psychology adept in the relevant counseling

-a visual culture of rich, realistic imagery

-well regarded advocacy groups

-esteemed early adopters

-a wealth of detailed and varied autobiographical accounts

-a group of reputable physicians known for performing impressive “enhancement” operations

-favorable inclusion in popular literature and media

-and more

Put another way, although the prosthetics themselves may only be one to two decades away, very few can be thought to possess a teleology consistent with elective amputation, and what exists in terms of cultural infrastructure is only a mere skeleton of what one would anticipate necessary in order for amputation to be thought of as ‘low risk’. It is perhaps interesting to note that today’s most famous futurist, Ray Kurzweil, does not include elective amputation (explicitly, at least) in his list of predictions, nor does he discuss it – further exemplifying just how distant the landscape is from one that will foster humans with bionic limbs.

Although the media descended voraciously on Oscar Pistorius, with more than a few articles no doubt questioning a hastening era of elective amputation, it’s good to keep in mind that we are still a decent ways away from bionic limbs superior in all ways to real ones, and even further perhaps from a society supportive of, let alone embracing such an endeavor.

Devon Cannabis Club condemns court case where man had just 0.09 gram of pot

By NDJFran

AFTER publishing a story about a man being taken to court for possessing nine pence worth of cannabis, the Journal was sent a letter by the Devon Cannabis Club condemning the case.

It read: "The Devon Cannabis Club were shocked to read that a 38 year old man was taken to court and given a 6 month conditional discharge and ordered to pay a victim surcharge of £15, all over 0.09 grams of cannabis. This can only be considered an appalling misuse of tax money, in regards to both the initial arrest and subsequent court case.

"0.09 grams is a tiny amount of cannabis by anyone's standards and the fact that the police and courts deemed it worthy of arrest and a criminal record just goes to show the absurdity of the current legal status of the drug. Mr Saunders was not causing any harm to anybody by possessing this miniscule amount of cannabis and as such the charges against him constitute a completely unjust and disproportionate punishment for the 'crime' that was committed.

"Unfortunately for Mr Saunders we have recently taken a step back in terms of how we police cannabis by getting rid of the 'cannabis caution'. If this option had still been available to the police they may well have chosen not to waste so much time and money on such a pointless and unjustified court case.

"Many countries the world over have begun to realise that criminalising people for drug possession is a harmful and unnecessary way to deal with drug use. It costs huge amounts of valuable money and time, does nothing to curtail drug use or put a dent in the pockets of organised crime, leaves thousands of people with criminal records which are far more damaging to them than any substance they may have taken, and causes a breakdown in the relationship between the public and the police.

"It is high time the government took note of what the evidence on drug policy tells them and moved to, at the very least, decriminalise simple drug possession. The Home Office released its own report on international drug policy on October 30th and concluded that punitive drug laws have no effect on levels of use, and that the liberalisation of drug policy in places such as Portugal and Switzerland have been successful in dealing with drug use and related issues in a way that is beneficial to public health.

"We urge everyone, and especially politicians, to look at the evidence and decide for themselves whether the Home Office report is correct. If it is, then it we need to change the UK's drug policy as a matter of urgency, and all parties should pull together to make this happen.

"Yours,

Daryl Sullivan - The Devon Cannabis Club"

ISPs criticised over deal to filter extremist material online

Four largest ISPs have agreed to implement a system of blocks similar to that used to keep child abuse material off web

Alex Hern

British internet service providers have been accused of rushing into an ill-thought-out attempt to block political material online, after agreeing with the government on a system of filters for websites espousing extremist views.

The four largest ISPs have independently agreed with the government to implement a system of blocks, similar to that used to keep child abuse material off the net. But civil liberties campaigners expressed fears that the move opened up a risk of political censorship.

Jim Killock, executive director of the Open Rights Group, said: “We need transparency whenever political content is blocked, even when we are talking about websites that espouse extremist views. The government must be clear about what sites they think should be blocked, why they are blocking them and whether there will be redress for site owners who believe that their website has been blocked incorrectly.”

Downing Street’s proposal to the four ISPs – BT, Virgin, Sky and TalkTalk – is for a public reporting process along the lines of that already implemented to protect children from being exploited online. The Child Exploitation and Online Protection (Ceop) agency lets internet users report child abuse material directly to the police, who can then decide to act immediately if a child is in danger or to pass the information on to the Internet Watch Foundation (IWF), an independent group.

The Metropolitan police’s counter-terrorism internet referral unit (Citru) would play the equivalent role of Ceop under the proposal.

A BT spokesperson said: “We have had productive dialogue with government about addressing the issue of extremist content online and we are working through the technical details.”

An ISP industry insider admitted to the Guardian that Ceop buttons supposed to provide a hotline to the service for web users had faded from view on most of the major ISP’s websites. They said social networks such as Facebook and Twitter were the new focus of attention, given the proportion of both child abuse and extremist material that is sourced there.

The Open Rights Group said that however extremism was reported – whether via a button on ISPs websites or a form on a social network – the important issue was what happens afterwards. “The issue is not about reporting extremism but whether reported content is added to secret lists of blacklisted sites,” Killock said.

Another tech company insider said they would be “very wary of any government attempts to blur the line between child protection and extremist content”. Much automatic filtering of child abuse images happens by matching pictures and video to known databases, a concept that does not work when dealing with “extremist” messages.

“Anyone who’s ever used a search engine will understand: computers do not understand sarcasm, they don’t understand irony,” the source said. “You can’t automate understanding human context around words.”

Downing Street said it would continue to press internet companies to be more proactive in fighting the use of web technologies by extremist groups.

FAST: a machine to detect people who will soon break the law

By Eko Armunanto
From "Minority Report" science-fiction movie to fact, scientists working for U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS) tried to predict the future at an undisclosed location in a northeastern metropolis.

They used no psychics or crystal balls, just a battery of sensors designed to determine human intention through the subtlest of changes in heart rate, gaze, and other physiological markers. The sensors are called Future Attribute Screening Technology (FAST), a $20 million federal project that aims to highlight airport passengers whose bodies betray hostile intentions. FAST has the potential to detect terrorists in the final minutes before they act, but critics warn that the system may have other consequences, such as flagging innocent travelers through false positives while letting some with ill intent sneak by through false negatives. The DHS, for its part, maintains that FAST is merely improving on a far older and more fallible crime predictor: human judgment.

DHS internal documents indicated a controversial program designed to predict whether a person will commit a crime was already being tested on some people voluntarily. Unlike Tom Cruise movie called "Minority Report" that enlisted psychics to predict crimes (Pre Crime), DHS was betting on algorithms: it created a prototype screening facility that will use factors such as ethnicity, gender, breathing, and heart rate to "detect cues indicative of mal-intent".

In the document, FAST program manager Robert Middleton Jr. refers to a limited initial trial using DHS employees as test subjects. Middleton said FAST sensors will non-intrusively collect video images, audio recordings, and psychophysiological measurements from the employees, with a subgroup of employees singled out, with their permission, for more rigorous evaluation. It was designed to track and monitor, among other inputs, body movements, voice pitch changes, prosody changes (alterations in the rhythm and intonation of speech), eye movements, body heat changes, and breathing patterns. Occupation and age are also considered. A government source said that blink rate and pupil variation are measured too.

DHS science spokesman John Verrico stated that preliminary testing had demonstrated 78% accuracy on mal-intent detection and 80% on deception. However, this was not a controlled, double-blind study, and researchers from Lawrence University and the Federation of American Scientists have questioned its validity without further evidence.

The technology would mostly be used at airports, borders, and special events. The mobile units transmit data to analysts, who use a system called MALINTENT to recognize, define and measure seven primary emotions and emotional cues that are reflected in contractions of facial muscles. Results are transmitted back to screeners.

Calling the methods as similar to Lie Detector, some scientists question whether there really are unique signatures for malintent — DHS' term for the intention to cause harm — that can be differentiated from the normal anxieties of travel.

"Even having an iris scan or fingerprint read at immigration is enough to raise the heart rate of most legitimate travelers," says Tom Ormerod from the Investigative Expertise Unit at Lancaster University.

Missouri man fired for posting pictures of DHS vans to Facebook

Navy vet says employers’ security chief called him a terrorist.

by Sean Gallagher

Mark Paffrath, a Navy veteran who worked as a housekeeper for the Drury hotel chain, claims he was fired from his job on Saturday after posting photos and video on Facebook of dozens of vehicles from the Department of Homeland Security massed in a Missouri hotel garage. Paffrath told CNN that Drury’s head of security “called me a terrorist, saying that I dishonorably served my country for posting those pictures and videos on Facebook.”

The vehicles and a large number of people from Homeland Security’s Federal Protection Services arrived last week, apparently in preparation for the announcement of a grand jury decision on whether to charge police officer Darren Wilson in the death of teenager Michael Brown. They were parked at the hotel where Paffrath worked, a short drive from Ferguson in suburban St. Louis. Paffrath posted the video and images of rows of federal vehicles on Thursday, including one with the caption “Why are all these vehicles here, I wonder if it has anything to do with Ferguson? #Ferguson, #No justice, no peace."

Paffrath’s former employer would not comment on how the hotel learned of the posted images, some of which are still publicly viewable on Paffrath’s Facebook page. A Drury hotel spokesperson told CNN, “We do not publicly discuss confidential personnel matters. The safety and privacy of our guests and our team members has always been and will remain our top priority." The hotel management may have seen the photos as a violation of the privacy of guests.

Militarized Police Surround Apartment for 2 Hours After Hearing a Door Slam

WATERLOO — Nearly a dozen squad cars full of heavily armed, militarized police officers surrounded an apartment building in Waterloo this Saturday.

The police held their ground for two and half hours, ready to open fire and receive career boosts for heroic action.

It began when a tenant in the apartment complex slammed a door.

Predictably, the door made a loud noise because of the slamming.

“Apparently there was a heavy door that, when it was slammed, sounded just like a shotgun,” said Staff Sgt. McBride.

“The officers who arrived heard it.”

The police were originally called because a neighbor called 911 after hearing the door slam.

About a dozen more police cars rushed to the area to surround the complex.

After that, even more tactical officers arrived to enter the building.

They finally entered the building around 4 PM, guns drawn.

Fortunately, nobody was arrested and no dogs were shot.

“We don’t know who slammed the door, but we don’t think there was malicious intent,” said McBride. Adan Salazar remarks that “the overzealous response is a product of terror training which conditions police to regard their fellow man with perpetual distrust, and keeps them in constant fear of a largely non-existent terrorist threat.”

Middle Schoolers Suspended for Pretending to Smoke Candy

Lenore Skenazy

At least three New Mexico middle school students have been suspended for 10 days for inappropriately consuming Smarties. No, that's not code for some hip new drug; we are talking about the sweet-and-sour candies sold in a roll and given out to unlucky kids on Halloween. The Clovis Municipal School District classifies them as drugs and says the kids were snorting them.

The mom of one of the kids told KRQE News 13 that in fact the kids were fake-smoking them. That is, they were crushing up the Smarties, putting the powder back in the cellophane, rolling it up like a cigarette and puffing it out, so it would look like smoke. "They were horseplaying," said Kelly Cook, mom of one of the candy-crazed miscreants. (You can find more stories of Smarties suspensions here.)

Smoking or snorting, these kids were not taking drugs any more than eating M&Ms is popping pills. But the school insists that Smarties are extra scary and verboten:

News 13 asked the district Thursday what policy they’re using in this case and if they have a specific rule against Smarties at school. They say they couldn’t comment and referred us to their student handbook. News 13 looked at it thoroughly and nowhere could we find Smarties classified as a drug or even a mention of the candy.

So the school is the one that's blowing smoke. It has advised the kids' parents that they may want to bring legal counsel to a "fact finding" scheduled for Nov. 19. What's more, the school retains the right to actually expel the boys for their Smartie party. It's enough to drive you to the hard stuff.

You know, like Life Savers.

Mom suing after wet t-shirt leads to arrest at Fla. splash park

A central Florida woman who was arrested after her shirt got wet at a kiddie splash park in Tavares is suing the city for violating her rights, the woman's attorney told AOL News.

"We are trying to vindicate her [and] establish [that] what was done to her was unconstitutional and wrong," said civil rights attorney Howard S. Marks.

The incident that provoked the lawsuit occurred in April when Janet Lovett and her husband took their 7-year-old son, who is autistic, to the Children's Splash Park in Tavares. While she was in the park, Lovett was splashed by water, which soaked the front of her white T-shirt and made her padded bra visible.

Janet Lovett's lawyer said the Florida woman is suing the city of Tavares for violating her rights because she was arrested after her shirt got wet at a kiddie splash park there.
"She was ultimately approached by an individual [who] professed to be a city employee and [told] she was not appropriately dressed for the park," Marks said. "[He told her] she would have to change into a bathing suit or some other clothing."

Marks said his client left her husband with their child, put a towel over her shoulders and walked out of the city-owned park. She was planning on going home to get a bathing suit when she was approached in the parking lot by a police officer.

"[The] police officer confronted her and started essentially quizzing her and demanding information from her, stating that she needed to put Mrs. Lovett's name in a database," Marks said.

Lovett, a Peruvian native who was granted American citizenship in January, speaks English, albeit "not perfectly," Marks said. She said she explained the situation to the officer and requested to speak with her husband. The officer allegedly denied that request and asked Lovett to produce her identification. She had none with her and told the officer it was in her car.

"I started shaking. I [felt] nervous. My son was inside [the] park with [my] husband. I was alone," Lovett said in an interview with ABC-affiliate WFTV. "[I was] very scared. I [had] never been arrested before."

A police report obtained by WFTV indicates Lovett did not give her name fast enough. As a result, she was taken into custody on suspicion of obstructing justice and resisting arrest.

"[The officer] took my client's arms and twisted them behind her back after handcuffing her," Marks said. "That caused some bruises to her arms and her hands. [She was] then escorted into the back of a patrol car and taken to jail."

Lovett sat in jail for about five hours before her husband could arrange to pay her $1,500 bond. The state attorney later dropped the charges without explanation.

"Legally, under the constitution of the state of Florida and the U.S., it is our position that Mrs. Lovett did not have to provide any identification information, but she never refused to do so," Marks said. "Obviously, [police] have a right to investigate crimes if there is a reason to believe somebody committed a crime, but there was no crime here."

Marks said he is also concerned about the city's alleged refusal to disclose information on the database into which the officer allegedly said she wanted to put his client's name.

"We have never been able to get any answers from the city," Marks said. "I don't know what database they could be putting her in. It is either a wet T-shirt database -- if the city is maintaining one of those, that's an entirely different story -- or an illegal alien database."

The city of Tavares acknowledges receiving a notice of intent from Lovett's attorney but declined to comment on the case.

"I can't respond to any of those questions," public communications spokeswoman Joyce Ross told AOL News. "[It's] typical for any type of lawsuit or notice of suit that we can't comment."

Marks said the lawsuit he is filing is for violation of civil rights, false arrest and malicious prosecution. He also said that it will ultimately be up to a jury to decide how much money to award his client.

"Mrs. Lovett committed no crime," Marks said. "Absolutely no cleavage [was showing]. Even if seeing someone's bra is indecent exposure or illegal in the U.S., then we are going to have to have a lot of appropriations for jails because most of the public is going to be in them."

ACLU and EFF just sent this letter to every US Senator, pleading with them to stop an anti-trafficking bill that would effectively shutdown user generated content related to sex, from Backpage to Tumblr and Reddit. Incredibly scary.

https://filemanager.capwiz.com/filemanager/file-mgr/aclu/1_coalition_letter_opposing_Senate_SAVE_Act.pdf

Princeton Study Declares U.S. government an Oligarchy

Derrick Broze

A new study from Princeton and Northwestern Universities has found that the United States’ government more closely resembles an Oligarchy or a Corporatocracy than a Republic or Democracy. Researchers examined nearly 2,000 policy changes in the United States between 1981 and 2002 and compared the changes to the preferences of average Americans, wealthy citizens, and interest and lobbying groups.

The researchers sought to find the answers to who governs in America, who really rules, and to what extent are U.S. citizens sovereign or powerless. To do this they analyzed four theoretical traditions in American politics. These include Majoritarian Electoral Democracy, Economic Elite Domination, and two types of interest group pluralism, Majoritarian Pluralism and Biased Pluralism. The researchers write, “The central point that emerges from our research is that economic elites and organized groups representing business interests have substantial independent impacts on U.S. government policy, while mass-based interest groups and average citizens have little or no independent influence.”

They found evidence to support the theories of Economic Elite Domination, and Biased Pluralism, but not for theories of Majoritarian Electoral Democracy or Majoritarian Pluralism. The key difference in the theories is the power and influence that wealthy individuals yield versus the average, or median voter.

Despite past researchers suggesting that policy changes are the result of “collective preferences” or that liberalism and conservatism in policies is representative of the views of citizens, the Princeton study suggests “that reality is best captured by mixed theories in which both individual economic elites and organized interest groups (including corporations, largely owned and controlled by wealthy elites) play a substantial part in affecting public policy, but the general public has little or no independent influence.”

The researchers findings also indicate that even when a majority of citizens disagree with the economic elite, and call for policy change, they rarely get it. The researchers blame “the strong status quo bias built into the U.S. political system.”

The study concludes with the following statement:

“We believe that if policymaking is dominated by powerful business organizations and a small number of affluent Americans, then America’s claims to being a democratic society are seriously threatened.”

Although the researchers (and most of the media) refer to the idealized American government as a democracy it is important to remember that the original text of the Constitution called for a republican form of government, as seen in Article 4, section 4:

“The United States shall guarantee to every state in this union a republican form of government,”

Interestingly enough the researchers also mention critics who believe the elite themselves created the Constitution to take away freedoms from the average citizen. “Analyses of U.S. politics centered on economic elites go back at least to Charles Beard, who maintained that a chief aim of the framers of the U.S. Constitution was to protect private property, favoring the economic interests of wealthy merchants and plantation owners rather than the interests of the then-majority small farmers, laborers, and craft workers.”

Whether you believe in a Democracy, a Constitutional Republic, or self-government, it is clear that unless Americans begin to educate themselves to the problems, and move to action, we will see all our freedoms stripped away and the Corporate-State will become further entrenched.