Injustice
It will not end with Comey.
The first time a federal judge asked, “Who’s here representing the United States,” and I said, “I am, your honor,” is a moment I will never forget. I was proud to represent my country, and to be part of the Department of Justice, an institution that has been a pillar of American democracy. That makes the disgraceful action against James Comey this week all the more devastating.
Working at the Justice Department was not my plan when I started law school. I started with an idea that I wanted to be a civil rights attorney, but wouldn’t have held up under five minutes of questioning on what that meant. A few months into my first year, an alum who was a federal prosecutor in Brooklyn visited to speak on a panel. His work sounded interesting, so I got his card and gave him a call. Two days later I was in his office for an interview and before I’d really thought about it, I had an internship for the summer.
I was assigned to the chief of the Public Integrity section, and early on I watched him argue at a hearing for a reduced sentence for someone he’d just prosecuted. I asked him why, and he said that the defendant was certainly guilty of fraud but had been a minor player in the conspiracy. The standard sentence would not have been fair.
That sealed it for me: I wanted to be a federal prosecutor. Legal ethics begins with a duty to the client and their interests, and I’d never been totally comfortable with that. What if I didn’t agree with the client’s position? What if I didn’t want them to win? But a prosecutor’s client is the public, which means the duty is to the public interest, the rule of law, and the Constitution. The discretion to do the right thing was what I wanted, and that was what the Justice Department offered.
Straight out of law school, I moved to DC and joined the Antitrust Division in criminal enforcement, prosecuting price-fixing conspiracies. I learned from veteran prosecutors, with a wealth of experience from lives spent in public service, the seriousness of the job. Prosecutors wield enormous authority, because they have the ability to focus the police power of the federal government on individuals. The act of investigating can turn a life upside down, even before anyone is charged, tried, or convicted. One morning, I showed up with an FBI agent on the doorstep of a person of interest. His wife answered because he wasn’t home, and I will never forget the look of fear on her face when she saw our credentials. That is not a power to take lightly.
That is why good prosecutors take the ethics of the profession very seriously. It’s why they debate what the right thing to do is, and why they work scrupulously to get every detail right. It’s why they are, or should be, insulated from politics; every morning when I got to the office, I saw the portraits of Barack Obama and Eric Holder, and I don’t believe that either of them would even once have considered telling us who to charge or how to manage our cases. I was tremendously proud to serve and to be a small part of that tradition.
I relate all of this as context for what I felt on hearing that the administration had indicted James Comey. They forced out a United States Attorney, replaced him with a Trump loyalist with no prosecutorial experience, and rushed through an indictment. What they did is a violation of everything that drew me to the Justice Department. It is not new for Donald Trump to abuse trust, to corrupt agencies, or to violate constitutional norms. None of that is surprising. For me, this time, it is personal, because it happened in an institution that means a great deal to me.
What they’ve done should terrify all of us. The power of the Justice Department can be turned on any individual, but what keeps it in check is the rule of law and the integrity of the people inside. Both are under attack, and neither has so far been enough to stop the administration.
Today, James Comey is the target. I don’t believe this is about justice, and I don’t believe it is even wholly about revenge. I believe it is practice.
