the trial. First, the witnesses from the bank and the police officers testified. This testimony was straightforward and not surprising, since we had admitted to the robbery in our opening statement. Our issue was not whether he had robbed the bank, but why he had done it.
Second, the two psychiatrists testified, one for the government and one for the defense. The psychiatrist called by the prosecution testified that Steven may have been in a “neurotic state of depression” but was not insane at the time of the crime. There were two flaws in his testimony. First, his definition of legal insanity was limited to psychoses. This was not the actual law, which was much broader. In 1971, the federal test of insanity was “a mental disease or defect which caused the person to not know the difference between right or wrong, or lack the substantial capacity to conform his conduct to law.” A “mental disease” was not restricted to a psychotic condition.
The psychiatrist also admitted, under cross-examination, that he had never read Black Rage. This emphasized his second mistake—his denial that it was necessary to take racial environmental factors into consideration when diagnosing Steven Robinson.
The psychiatrist called by the defense wasn’t much better. It seemed that he had not read all the reports and documents with which we had provided him. Though he had been articulate and confident in his office, we felt his presentation on the witness stand was weak (an observation confirmed by the jurors with whom we spoke after the trial).
Fortunately, our strategy did not rely on psychiatric testimony. This is a mistake many lawyers make: hoping the expertise of the psychiatrist will persuade the jurors. In fact, “expert witnesses” on each side usually cancel each other out. Also, the psychiatric testimony often paints the defendant as so crazy that the jury cannot identify with the defendant and does not want to find him or her not guilty.
Expert witnesses, by virtue of their expertise, are allowed to state their opinions instead of sticking to observable facts. For example, a psychiatrist can give his opinion as to whether a person is suffering from a mental illness, or an orthopedist can give her opinion as to the cause of a fractured leg. In our case, however, we relied more on “lay witnesses,” that is, people who had observed facts relevant to the issues in the case. These lay witnesses were the third segment of the case. We called the veterans’ affairs coordinator from the Bay Area Urban League, who testified about his attempts to get Steven a job. Although we did not attempt to prove the pervasive job discrimination in the Bay Area, the impact of his testimony underlined the existing racism. We then called Elaine, who testified to the family’s illnesses, how her husband wouldn’t let her apply for welfare, and how strange he had acted during the week before the robbery. The last witness was Mr. Judge from Sacred Heart Parish, who testified to providing a food order for the family and to Steven’s obvious need to be the main supporter of his wife and child. These witnesses took no more than half a day of testimony. Jurors get bored sitting in those chairs all day long. We did not want to lecture them about racism; we did not want to create a classroom atmosphere. White people know there is discrimination. We didn’t feel we had to hit them over the head with what they already knew in their hearts. The idea was to get them to look into their hearts.
The fourth and most important segment of the trial took place when Steven took the stand. Cases are often won or lost by the defendant’s own testimony. Too many times a lawyer takes the credit for winning a case, but blames the client if he loses.
There are two different theories on how to relate to a client. The prevailing theory was put forth succinctly by my trial practice teacher in law school at Berkeley: Never explain the case to the client, because one of two things will result. The client will understand you and wonder why he is paying you so much for something so simple. Or he won’t understand you and therefore will waste your valuable time asking questions. Our law collective rejected this elitism. We were committed to demystifying the law and dignifying the client. This required the full participation of the person we represented. Yes, it took more time. But it was rewarding to see clients in crisis able to overcome their fears and anxieties, to help clients educate themselves about how the legal system actually worked, and to engage with them as partners in a joint effort to achieve some measure of justice. It was also more effective than having a client who felt isolated, alienated, and completely at the mercy of forces beyond his or her comprehension and control. An empowered client can offer a different point of view from the lawyer’s, who is often limited by his professionalism. And although 90 percent of the clients’ suggestions are inappropriate or useless, the other 10 percent are often gems that help win the case.
In Steven’s case, once he was encouraged to participate in his own defense he began to play an active role. He agreed with or deferred to our judgment in almost all decisions. But he had two points he felt very strongly about. First, he refused to blame racism for his crime. Second, he would not say he was “insane” at the time of the robbery. He would not use that word. Fortunately, we agreed with him.
Our strategy was to argue that racism is a major factor in the equation that causes a person to strike out. A different strategy is to blame racism for one’s predicament. The former has the potential to open people’s eyes to the powerful impact of environment. But the latter points the finger at others for one’s failings and results in closing people’s eyes to social reality. We chose the course that retained Steven’s dignity and pride, and rejected the course that led to pity and victimization.
Steven took the stand as our last witness. In a typical bank robbery trial, the issue is whether or not the defendant in fact robbed the bank. He may have the defense of alibi. For example, “I was in the park with friends at the time of the crime.” So, the dispute is whether he was in the bank or in the park. The defendant’s mental state is not an issue, nor are the factors that shaped his behavior. Therefore, no testimony is allowed as to the defendant’s social background. In a psychiatric case, however, the issue for the jury is whether or not the person who admits robbing the bank was suffering from a mental state that is considered insanity under the law. A person who was “insane” at the time he committed a crime is not considered morally responsible, because he did not have knowledge of the consequences of his behavior or was not in rational control of his behavior. In such a trial the entire life of the defendant becomes relevant because it has formed his mental state. Therefore, the psychiatrist and Steven were allowed to testify to Steven’s life experience.
Steven was born on the south side of Chicago in September 1941. His parents were divorced at an early age, and he lived with his mother and grandmother. He lived a life fairly typical of a black child in the ghetto on the south side of Chicago. His mother worked at various unskilled jobs, earning less than a dollar per hour. His grandmother cleaned white people’s homes as a domestic. For the first ten years of his life, Steven rarely saw his father. His uncle, however, took him to zoos, museums, and the ballgames. When Steven was ten years old, his uncle, the most important male in his life, whom he loved dearly, died of tuberculosis.
At fourteen Steven moved in with his father. As he grew older, people commented on how much he looked like his dad, and Steven identified with his father. His father, for all his harshness and discipline, cared deeply about Steven and loved him. But their poverty continued. They lived in hotels, always moving from one to another. They often had to live in slums infested with roaches and rats. Steven’s father, like so many black men, just could not provide economically for his family. Steven swore to himself that he would never fail his family like his father had.
After high school, Steven joined the Air Force, where he was an air policeman. He was honorably discharged and returned to Chicago, where he worked seriously on his music. He became involved with a community organization of musicians who played high-quality live jazz for free throughout the ghetto. Soon thereafter he moved to San Francisco and met Elaine and Kamisha, who were to become his wife and daughter.
Steven specifically testified to his wife’s and child’s illnesses and how his failure to afford a specialist affected him. He testified to walking the streets
