Like many millions of Americans, I am hooked on true crime stories.  Some see this collective fascination with true crime as an indictment of our current society, but let’s remember that Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood was an international bestseller when it was published nearly 60 years ago. And 40 years before that, the Leopold and Loeb murder case and the Lindbergh child kidnapping and murder engrossed the nation.  

Judging by the many biblical references to criminal human behavior, that’s been the case throughout human history. Crime doesn’t pay, but accounts of it sure as hell intrigues and entertains the masses. 

In addition to learning about the victims, the perpetrators, and the Shakespearean cast of characters involved in these stories, we often learn about the gatekeepers of the judicial system, like cops, and DA’s, judges and lawyers, for example. 

Unsurprisingly, many appear to be hard-working and dedicated to their jobs and upholding the rule of law. Our judicial system, the venerated byproduct of our founding fathers wisdom, would fall apart without them. Their commitment to serving the public good deserves our thanks and praise. 

Unfortunately, in far too many of these true crime stories, we hear of prosecutors who bend and sometimes break rules to send innocent defendants to jail, or worse, to Death Row. We hear of police officers who plant evidence to frame defendants. We hear of judges who turn a blind eye to prosecutorial misconduct, of defense lawyers who take the money and run, of sadistic prison guards who perpetuate judicial maltreatment. 

Frankly, it’s not the alleged crime but the prosecution of the crime that sickens me. Violent crimes are often acts of passion, or the byproduct of a broken childhood. They’re heinous acts, but sometimes at least somewhat understandable.  

Intentional misconduct is not. Circling the wagons and protecting that misconduct is not. A prosecutor who knowingly sends an innocent man to Death Row to gain favor, improve conviction stats or win an election, is guilty of attempted murder. If that man is eventually killed as a result, he was murdered by another’s hand, and the killer should be charged with intentional first-degree murder. Any peace officer who knowingly aided or abetted the crime should be appropriately charged as well. 

But that’s not the way the system works in America. As we learn in story after depressing story, justice in America has very little to do with right and wrong, innocent or guilty, good guys and bad guys. It’s got more to do with the have and the have nots. The truth might not set you free, but money and power and connections often will. 

The total and qualified immunity offered to judges, prosecutors and police provides them with an iron dome of protection that is unique to their positions. This dome has been pierced in recent years to hold abusive police officers to account on occasion, but there is still almost no accountability for prosecutors and judges who commit judicial misconduct of any kind, even in the worst of cases. 

With so little consequence for misconduct, it’s laughable to expect there to be consequences for systemic law enforcement and judicial negligence. For example, the deputy sheriff from the Sagadahoc County (Maine) Sheriff’s Office who was found to be grossly negligent in not taking the Lewiston, Maine mass shooter into custody prior to the shooting announced shortly after that he was running in the upcoming sheriff’s election. That’s right, instead of being contrite, he’s seeking a promotion. 

I wish this was an example of an extreme outlier, but it’s not. It’s a pervasive arrogance, a reflexive demonstration of unaccountability that exists in far too many law enforcement and judicial jurisdictions. Most of us have to answer for workplace misconduct or negligence. Not so in our current law enforcement and judicial system. Our fascination with true crime has made that abundantly clear.