Abnormally Distributed Justice

I found "Courtroom 302" exceptionally interesting and most decidedly revelatory. Steve Bogira reports the true, on-going story of abnormally distributed justice from within our nation's busiest criminal courthouse. "Courtroom 302" uncovers the good, the bad and the ugly realities of our criminal justice system and Bogira's story-telling style makes the book an exciting page-turning read. I found it difficult to put down and I read it in three sittings. I predict Pulitzer.

A fascinating and surprising, but limited portrait

Steve Bogira's profile of Chicago's Courtroom 302 shows American justice as any thinking person might imagine it to be -- that is, at once civilized and enlightened and terribly human. Everyone involved in the court's proceedings, other than the defendants and observers outside the plexiglass barriers, are there to do a job -- and as with any job, workers are in a position to think not only of their own personal moral and ethical codes, but of the codes of other people and institutions involved (the police, probation officers, judges' associations, politicians, etc.). Bogira's job, it seems, has been to observe and report on not only the goings-on each day in this courtroom, but to unearth the layers of complexity that such competing values have in our justice system. In doing so, he's provided a richly detailed and nuanced look at a subject we all take for granted is simpler, until we ourselves are ensnared in it.

And ensnared is what we become in "Courtroom 302." Bogira draws the readers in with innumerable trainwrecks for rubberneckers to gawk at -- cases from present and past that could easily fill the season's lineup cards for TV's cop-and-court shows. The one narrative-thread defendant we see most often is a small-time drug abuser named Larry Bates, a 40-ish black man who can't stay on the straight and narrow even when his life makes promising turns. While the larger cases in Bogira's tale hold our attention most, it's Bates who holds the key to the primary message of the book. Bates becomes Bogira's exemplar of the cog in the machine -- while the court most often shows mercy on Bates, the interminable waits he must endure because of his poverty and the limited help he gets in solving his problems show how little that mercy comes to mean when one is dependent upon our bureaucracy of social assistance.

If Bogira uses Bates to show readers the perspective of those who typically stand before the bench, he also provides a detailed and surprising look at someone behind the bench, in the person of Judge Daniel Locallo. While Bogira gives short-shrift to the backgrounds and complex lives of the Chicago cops, prosecutors and public defenders he mentions in the story, he gives ample space to the details of defendants' circumstances -- as if to stress continually the pity we ought to feel for most of those caught in the dragnet of police enforcement. Still, I thought these tales-of-woe weren't completely convincing because Bogira doesn't get a clear picture of these defendants -- mostly he gets what they tell him. But with Locallo, he provides a fuller view -- the fullest view in whole book. Because of he has access to details of Locallo's background (his father was a Chicago PD detective), his career milestones and goals (as prosecutor and judge), his countless (and written) decisions, as well as access to so many people's experience with Locallo in the courtroom, Bogira is able to provide a complex portrait of this justice that the writer can't carry off with any other characters here. Here, we see Locallo at his most callous and ass-covering and willfully obtuse (bordering on corrupt) -- but we also see him as exceedingly fair-minded, thoughtful and merciful, often in the face of trying and even threatening circumstances. The complexities of the court exemplified in Locallo are why this book is really worth reading.

Overall, I was disappointed in Bogira's simplistic conclusions about those charged with crimes as well as those who work within the less heralded parts of the criminal justice system (cops, correctional types, PDs, probation officers, etc.). He seems to come at his subject believing that cops are corruptible, violence-prone racists and that all "perps" are misunderstood victims of circumstance. For example, the author implies more than once that police likely frame defendants by themselves dropping packets of dope at the site and saying the perp dropped them. This is some seriously mixed up logic, especially when many of the drug arrests in his book turn out to be repeat offenders. Bogira himself seems surprised when he discovers (and he reveals to us) that almost all of the defendants in his profile are guilty of what they've been charged with and, further, continue to break the law once out of jail.

Bogira's answer to this seems to be to criticize laws themselves as well as enforcement initiatives -- specifically, the war on drugs. He implies throughout "Courtroom" that the innumerable drug arrests clogging Chicago's courtroom dockets and jails are wastes of the court's time and taxpayers' money, and neglects to round out his personal (and preconcieved) conclusions with a recitation of facts and studies about the damage drug dealers and drug users do to individuals, communities and society in general. The answer is not to simply arrest drug users and dealers and process them through the criminal justice system. But neither is the answer to wink at people taking drugs or selling small amounts in order to fund their own habits. The scope of Bogira's book is limited such that he can't address necessarily complex solutions to any of the problems he reveals.

Perhaps in the end, one whole year in the life of this courtroom is too long a time span. Bogira can only give us quick looks at issues here before moving on to other cases, other people, other problems. Perhaps a "Mrs. Dalloway"-day-in-the-life is taking it too far, but by limiting the scope of this profile, Bogira may have been able to draw more balanced portraits of the people he includes here -- and as a result may have been able to see himself how much more complex situations are than he portrays.

To this end, I think some supplemental reading is in order. Readers might want to look into Ted Conover's "New Jack: Guarding Sing Sing" and "Blue Blood" by Ed Conlon, for starters. Conlon's profile of NYC cop life is full-bodied and as complex a portrait as I've ever read. And he's not anti-anyone, but rather balanced and fair in his perspective on police, criminals and politics.

A must read!

Warning - this book will definitely get you depressed about the American crimial justice system. Other reviews have elaborated on this book, and I agree with most of their analysis. This book really makes you question how "justice" is carried out in this country. No, I am not a flaming liberal, but a die-hard Republican. If this book can convince me that things need to change, I believe that is a pretty good indicator as to the depth of the problem. There are broader implications of this book - bottom line is that the world, not just the United States, needs to be spending LOT'S more money on education vs. the penal system.