Other reader questions Weissmann addressed this week:
Would it be possible when congressional committees subpoena a witness under oath, like Jack Smith, some thinking to catch him in perjury, that the questioners also be under oath too? If they willingly make false statements, shouldn’t they be subject to perjury?— Ronald O., South Bend, Indiana
I would like to know how the courts can keep the Jack Smith report on the Mar-a-Lago documents case hidden? My tax dollars paid for this investigation, and a case against three co-conspirators has been closed. I don’t understand why the information gathered by the special prosecutor is not available to the U.S. citizenship or available under the Freedom of Information Act.— Alan S., New Canaan, Connecticut
If as Abelson suggests, the law is not what is written, but what is enforced, how can we change our system to guarantee the rule of law (i.e., the enforcement of what Congress legislates)?— Lynn B., Claremont, California
White House officials said they would not reimburse Americans for the $20 million taxpayer-funded pro-Trump ad campaigns, despite a federal judge ordering the administration to stop. Is there any legal recourse American taxpayers can take to confront the administration’s irresponsible spending on things that aren’t quite legal?
Become an MS NOW Member to watch all of Weissmann’s answers, get the chance to submit your own questions and explore full episodes of all the MS NOW Membership exclusive series.
President Donald Trump on Thursday called off plans to livestream the December 3 military execution of Nidal Hasan after the announcement generated widespread disgust.
Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth announced last week that the U.S. government would livestream the firing-squad execution of Hasan, a former Army major who shot and killed 13 people at the Fort Hood Army base in 2009. A court-martial jury sentenced Hasan to death in 2013.
It would have been the first public execution in the United States since a hanging in Missouri in 1937, though the last well-known public execution occurred a year earlier in Kentucky. Rainey Bethea, a black man, was hanged before a crowd of roughly 20,000 people in Owensboro. Kentucky became the last state to outlaw public executions two years later.
The plan to livestream Hasan's execution drew comparisons to the Taliban. The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops called it "a barbaric promotion of a culture of death." Writing at The Lamp, an orthodox Catholic journal, Matthew Walther noted that it would be the "first ever government-sanctioned snuff film in American history."
However, Trump and Hegseth didn't trip over just liberal and religious pieties, but a deep-rooted American aversion to bloody displays of state power that goes back to the colonial era.
Lynn Novick, the director of Ken Burns' upcoming PBS documentary series Crime and Punishment in America, tells Reason that public executions "haven't been a regular part of American life since the Colonial time in the early years of the Republic, and there's really good reasons for that."
One of American colonists' many complaints about oppressive British rule was England's expansive criminal code, known derisively as the "bloody code" because it contained more than 200 capital crimes.
"In Colonial America, [an execution] was an everyday occurrence," Novick says. "There were executions all the time, and one of our scholars told us that most people would have seen someone executed in their lifetime."
Excessive capital punishment also ran contrary to emerging theories by leading Enlightenment thinkers that punishment should be proportional to the crime and not driven by revenge or bloodlust.
Perhaps more importantly, public executions were disorderly affairs that, rather than reinforce the power of the state, inflamed the passions of the mob to a dangerous degree. "In many cases, crowds would become very boisterous, riotous, angry, excited," Novick says. "There were sometimes violent outbursts at these events."
As a result, many of the Founding Fathers saw frequent public executions as disruptive to the fragile social order. The early American republic's move away from sanguinary spectacle was driven by a desire to create a stable, virtuous citizenry and sever itself from the European continent's tradition of public torture and execution.
As Reason described in a recent cover story, the result of this was the invention of the American penitentiary in the early 1800s, which was sold as a humane and rehabilitative replacement for the whipping post and gallows.
States transitioned from public to private hangings behind their newly built prison walls in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, before switching to the use of the electric chair. This was not done out of entirely humanitarian concerns, especially in the South, where public executions often became quasi-religious ceremonies, with the condemned declaring their ultimate victory over death (and the state) through Jesus Christ.
"Executions had contested meanings," Michael Ayers Trotti wrote in The End of Public Execution. "They were moments of justice, of state power; but they were also moments of religion, exceptional moments that transcended normal life."
The main reason that public executions disappeared over the long term, though, is obvious to anyone who's not a sociopath: It's weird and dehumanizing to gather in a crowd to watch someone else be killed, to participate in the government's promotion of its power to take a human life.
Rachel Abbott, who witnessed Bethea's 1936 hanging when she was 5 years old, told WKU Public Radio in 2016 that she had nightmares about it years later.
"I remember it well, but I didn't want to," she said. "I tried to get away from it because it was hurting me so bad. I started having me nightmares after I was older. It's like his spirit was just hanging all around me. The first thing you'd know I'd start crying because I felt he wanted me to help him get buried, get sent back to his gravesite by his father. I still have tears running when I think of it."
A couple of months ago, Donald Trump appeared on a conservative radio show and said that “a lot of people” wanted to see the president pardon himself in his first term.
“I had the absolute right to do it,” he said. “Instead, I fought it through the courts and won.”
While that wasn’t an entirely accurate summary of recent history — Trump, who was convicted of several felonies in New York, only “won” when the federal criminal cases against him ended upon his return to the White House, not because they were adjudicated in his favor — the president’s rhetoric about his “absolute right” to pardon himself stood out.
This week, he returned to the issue during an interview with Newsmax’s Rob Finnerty.
Trump suggests he is going to pardon everyone, including himself: "I'm allowed to do a self-pardon … I don't want to see people that work for me go through years of nonsense"
Asked specifically whether he’s “seriously considering a self-pardon” before he leaves office, the president initially hedged, saying he’s done “nothing wrong,” before adding, “I’m allowed to do a self-pardon. I’m allowed to pardon. … The pardon is very powerful. I know that. They say it’s the most powerful thing a president has, the power of pardon.”
As my MS NOW colleague Jordan Rubin explained in detail just last week, whether presidents can actually pardon themselves is a matter of some controversy. Ahead of Richard Nixon’s resignation in 1974, the Justice Department’s Office of Legal Counsel prepared a memo concluding that presidents can’t pardon themselves, though OLC opinions are not binding on the courts, and the matter has never been tested — at least not yet.
But also of interest was the other point Trump made as part of the same exchange.
On the topic of pardons, the Republican went on to say, “I can tell you this, I don’t want to see my people go through — because these people are lunatics on the, on the left — I don’t want to see people that work for me go through years of nonsense, hire lawyers and everything else, all for nothing.”
This came a few weeks after Trump also told Time magazine that he’s prepared to issue pardons to members of his administration.
Time will tell whether he follows through, and just as notably, just how many members of his team are considered for presidential clemency. But that Trump keeps making comments like these might very have a real impact in the White House and throughout the executive branch: The president is effectively letting a small army of political appointees know that, no matter what they do as part of their duties, he’s inclined to hand them a pardon, whether or not they deserve one.
Systemic government corruption is already a problem in the Trump era. The signal he’s sending to his team is likely to make matters worse.
Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand called for the passage of the Campus Accountability and Safety Act to address systemic failures in protecting students following allegations of sexual assault at Cornell University.
As violent spirits are unleashed in Sky’s Possession, observers see confident creatives reclaiming the island’s narratives in a form of ‘cultural reparation’
A woman opens a 300‑year‑old box, unleashing a violent spirit – it is the spirit of colonialism and oppression roaring back to life. It is a pivotal scene in Sky’s supernatural series Possession and symbolises a wider shift in Jamaica’s film industry, where directors are increasingly using the landscape to tell Jamaican stories – including those that confront enslavement, trauma and historical memory.
The series is about a biracial British lawyer who travels to Jamaica to investigate a multimillion-pound inheritance dispute, only to uncover a dark, vengeful spirit tied to the plantation’s brutal colonial past.
Il 9 ottobre 2026 il Comitato norvegese per il Nobel ha assegnato il Premio per la pace a Navanethem Pillay, giurista sudafricana di 85 anni, già giudice della Corte penale internazionale e Alta commissaria Onu per i diritti umani. La motivazione parla di una persona che ha aperto la strada a un ordine giuridico globale più completo. Il presidente del Comitato, Jorgen Watne Frydnes, ha aggiunto che il premio è un messaggio per chi attacca e mina il sistema internazionale e le sue istituzioni. Il verdetto è dichiaratamente politico, ed è su questo piano che va discusso.
La stessa figura che nel 2011 avrebbe «abbattuto» Gheddafi, spianando la strada al saccheggio del petrolio libico e alla schiavitù dei migranti africani, ora «abbatterebbe» Netanyahu, e preparerebbe così la riabilitazione di Israele. Il filo logico non sarebbe la morale né la pace, ma l’agenda dell’Open Society di George Soros: sacrificare i soggetti diventati scomodi, mai l’essenza del progetto. Qualcuno l’ha battezzata «pal-washing». La domanda di fondo è seria, perché chiede se dietro premi e giurisdizioni dell’ordine liberale ci sia una regolarità.
Occorre sottolineare che il copione è già noto. Vi ricordate quando Barack Obama ricevette il premio Nobel per la pace, inaugurando guerre su guerre? O vi ricordare i personaggi in cerca d’autore come Machado, Mohammadi, o i difensori dei criminali Ucraini? Ma andiamo per ordine.
Atto Primo: la Libia
Nel febbraio 2011 Pillay, Alta commissaria, chiese al Consiglio per i diritti umani un’azione vigorosa per fermare le violenze e chiamare i responsabili a risponderne; il Consiglio condannò le violazioni e istituì una commissione d’inchiesta. Il passaggio successivo toccò al Consiglio di sicurezza: il rinvio alla CPI con la risoluzione 1970, poi la 1973, approvata con dieci voti favorevoli e cinque astensioni (Brasile, Cina, Germania, India, Russia). Nessuno sostiene che Pillay abbia deciso la guerra. Conta la sequenza: il linguaggio dei diritti umani aprì la porta, quello della protezione dei civili autorizzò la forza, e l’operazione scivolò verso il cambio di regime. Già in aprile Lavrov accusava la NATO di eccedere il mandato, e un ministro francese ammetteva che il cambio di regime avrebbe richiesto un nuovo voto.
Poi i costi. Nel 2017 l’OIM documentò aste di migranti subsahariani nel sud della Libia, venduti per somme tra 200 e 500 dollari. Il nesso con il crollo dello Stato dopo il 2011 è la lettura più plausibile, benché la fonte documenti il fenomeno e non la sua causa. Il prezzo lo pagarono la Libia e i migranti; la cornice giuridica ne uscì, sul piano formale, intatta, anche se la controversia sul mandato avrebbe poi pesato sui veti di Mosca e Pechino in altri dossier.
Atto Secondo: Bibi
Il 21 novembre 2024 la Camera preliminare I della CPI emise mandati d’arresto per Netanyahu e per l’ex ministro della Difesa Gallant, per crimini di guerra e crimini contro l’umanità. Pillay aveva lasciato la Corte nel 2008, ma ha presieduto la Commissione d’inchiesta Onu che il 16 settembre 2025 ha concluso che Israele ha commesso genocidio a Gaza. Qui il «pal-washing» trova il suo meccanismo. Il diritto penale internazionale lavora su persone: un imputato, un’imputazione, un periodo. Se il caso si chiude con la sorte di un leader, si apre una cesura narrativa, il prima e il dopo di un uomo, dopo la quale lo Stato può presentarsi come reintegrato. La Libia offre l’analogia: là il caso si chiuse con la caduta di un uomo.
I limiti del percorso giocano a favore della lettura. La Corte non ha una polizia e l’esecuzione dei mandati dipende dagli Stati parte; la Commissione non è un tribunale e non parla a nome dell’intera Onu; lo stesso Comitato, riferisce AFP, ha detto che spetta a una corte stabilire se vi sia genocidio. Il premio non produce effetti giuridici, lo sappiamo, però produce legittimazione per un circuito che promette giustizia e non può garantirla.
Dobbiamo, poi, considerare che dinamiche del genere le abbiamo già viste più volte all’interno dell’ordine globalista che domina in Occidente. L’Open Society Foundations si presenta come il maggiore finanziatore privato al mondo di gruppi per giustizia, democrazia e diritti umani, attivo in oltre cento paesi, e Pillay ha ricevuto lo Stockholm Human Rights Award, lo stesso che nel 2011 è andato a Soros e a Neier. Sembra proprio che si ripeta di nuovo il pattern della agenda sorosiana, fatta di fondazioni, ONG, tribunali, commissioni e burocrazie che condividono un lessico e un orizzonte, quello di un ordine liberale da perfezionare e mai da rimettere in discussione. Chi opera dentro quel lessico può denunciare un governo, un leader, perfino uno Stato, ma non può contestare i presupposti dell’ordine che gli dà legittimità.
Alcuni obietteranno che la Commissione di Pillay attribuisce la responsabilità a Israele come Stato, non soltanto ai suoi leader, il che contraddice l’idea di un’operazione puramente personalizzante. Il secondo è la reazione. Netanyahu ha accusato il Comitato di aver perso la bussola morale, il Ministero degli Esteri israeliano ha parlato di una grottesca strumentalizzazione del premio, e Washington ha annunciato sanzioni contro la CPI poche ore dopo l’annuncio. Tutto vero. Ma avrebbe senso e valore se il sistema occidentale non fosse marcio fin dalle sue fondamenta, se il suo sistema giuridico funzionasse, ma così non è, sotto nessun aspetto (e abbiamo avuto già sufficienti dimostrazioni – non scordiamoci anche il caso Epstein).
Se nei prossimi dodici mesi la caduta politica di Netanyahu verrà presentata come chiusura del caso, anziché come una tappa di un procedimento che riguarda lo Stato, il «pal-washing» guadagnerà peso. Se i procedimenti proseguiranno oltre la sua persona, e se gli Stati parte eseguiranno i mandati, forse ne perderà. Allo stato delle prove la tesi è plausibile e, fino a smentita comprovata, questo è l’ennesimo Nobel della non-Pace, che non possiamo chiamare “guerra”.
Nearly 93 million EU residents were at risk of poverty or social exclusion in 2025, with the latest regional figures revealing sharp differences both between and within member states. The findings raise questions about how effectively European investment is addressing longstanding economic inequality.
More than one in five people living in the European Union remained at risk of poverty or social exclusion in 2025, according to Eurostat figures that reveal substantial differences in living conditions across the bloc’s regions.
Approximately 92.7 million people, representing 20.9 per cent of the EU population, fell into the category during the year. Although the total declined slightly from 93.3 million in 2024, regional data show that economic vulnerability remains heavily concentrated in particular areas.
In 26 of the 243 EU regions for which figures were available, at least 31 per cent of residents were at risk of poverty or social exclusion. At the opposite end of the distribution, 24 regions recorded rates below 13 per cent.
The regional figures published by Eurostat show that the highest rate was recorded in French Guiana, at 54.8 per cent, while Slovakia’s capital region, Bratislavský kraj, recorded the lowest at 2.9 per cent.
National averages conceal substantial differences
The contrast is not confined to richer and poorer member states. In several countries, internal regional disparities are more pronounced than comparisons of national economic performance might suggest.
Within Slovakia, the proportion of people at risk of poverty or social exclusion in Východné Slovensko was 9.1 times the rate recorded in the Bratislava region.
In Italy, the equivalent rate in Calabria was 8.1 times that of Valle d’Aosta, illustrating the persistent economic divide between parts of the country’s north and south.
These differences are recorded in Eurostat’s regional living-conditions statistics, which provide a more detailed picture than EU-wide or national averages.
The comparison requires care. Eurostat’s measure of poverty or social exclusion combines three indicators: relative income poverty, severe material and social deprivation, and very low household work intensity.
Consequently, the figures do not mean that every person included lacks sufficient income to meet basic needs. They identify people experiencing at least one of the defined forms of economic disadvantage.
Differences in income, employment, household composition and living costs can also influence the results, making direct comparisons between metropolitan areas, rural districts and overseas territories more complicated than a single percentage might imply.
Nevertheless, the scale of regional variation illustrates why national economic growth does not automatically produce equivalent improvements in living standards throughout a country.
Poverty reduction remains an EU commitment
The European Union has set a target of reducing the number of people at risk of poverty or social exclusion by at least 15 million by 2030, including at least five million children.
The limited annual reduction recorded in 2025 indicates that progress remains modest relative to the scale of that objective.
The problem has become increasingly important for European policymakers as housing costs, energy prices and employment insecurity affect household finances in different ways across member states.
In May, the Commission presented an anti-poverty and housing policy package, bringing together measures concerning social inclusion, housing exclusion and child poverty.
The regional figures indicate that such initiatives will need to account for considerable differences in local economic conditions.
Policies designed for prosperous urban economies may have limited relevance in regions characterised by low employment, weak infrastructure or dependence on a small number of industries. Conversely, economic activity and relatively high average incomes do not necessarily prevent serious poverty problems within major cities.
Cohesion funding becomes a central question
The findings have direct relevance to negotiations over the EU’s next long-term budget, covering 2028 to 2034.
The European Commission’s proposal envisages roughly €450 billion for economic, social and territorial cohesion under national and regional partnership plans, including at least €218 billion for less developed regions.
The proposed structure would combine several funding programmes within broader national plans, with the Commission arguing that the changes could improve coordination and make spending more responsive to local requirements.
However, regional authorities have expressed concern that greater national control over financial allocations could weaken their influence over investment decisions.
As EU Today reported earlier this week, representatives of European regions have warned that the proposed budget arrangements could concentrate decision-making in national capitals.
The latest poverty statistics provide a concrete context for that disagreement. Investment priorities may differ considerably between a region experiencing industrial decline, an agricultural area with limited employment opportunities and a metropolitan district facing severe housing affordability problems.
A central question for EU institutions is therefore how funding allocations will reflect measurable regional needs rather than being driven primarily by national political negotiations.
The Commission maintains that its proposed partnership arrangements will protect allocations for less developed regions and continue supporting social inclusion.
Negotiations over the financial framework will determine how those commitments are translated into enforceable rules, while Eurostat’s figures provide a statistical basis against which future claims of progress can be assessed.
With 92.7 million people still at risk, the debate is not simply about the overall size of the EU budget. It is also about whether spending reaches the communities where economic disadvantage remains most concentrated.
On a recent episode of the Bulwark podcast, journalist Ron Brownstein described the election as a contest between “the wave versus the wall.” The wave being voter anger and President Donald Trump’s plummeting popularity. The wall being structural impediments to voters’ voices, such as gerrymanders and the Republican Party’s stark spending advantage. Now we know […]
Use of death penalty against people for crimes committed when they were children a ‘new low’, say rights groups
A young man faces imminent execution in Saudi Arabia for attending protests and funerals when he was aged 15 to 17, say human rights groups, in the latest example of the kingdom’s surging use of the death penalty for non-violent crimes.
The investigation resulted in a dramatic 2022 FBI search of Mar-a-Lago that recovered classified records and later produced an indictment in federal court in Florida charging then-former President Donald Trump with dozens of felony counts.
A Missouri judge who locked two children in jail cells because he was frustrated by their resistance to a parental custody decision is liable for violating their Fourth Amendment rights, a federal appeals court ruled this week. The U.S. Court of Appeals for the 8th Circuit rejected Taney County Judge Eric Eighmy's claim that he was shielded by qualified immunity, a doctrine that blocks federal civil rights claims unless they allege a violation of "clearly established" law.
"A reasonable judge should have known better," Judge David Stras writes in an opinion joined by the two other members of the 8th Circuit panel. "The law was 'clearly established' enough" to "place the issue 'beyond debate.'"
Institute for Justice attorney Dylan Moore, who wrote an 8th Circuit brief arguing against immunity for Eighmy and participated in oral arguments, welcomed the decision. "Every reasonable person knows that a judge can't throw children in jail for no good reason," he said. "Yet Judge Eighmy claimed qualified immunity shielded him from accountability anyway because no prior case told him that imprisoning innocent kids is unconstitutional. That defense is ridiculous, and we are thrilled that the court saw through it. When government officials commit such obvious constitutional violations, qualified immunity should never enter the picture."
The incident at the center of the case happened after an October 2019 custody hearing involving Kadan Rockett, then 14, and his 12-year-old sister, Brooklyn, who had achieved a modicum of fame as magicians performing on America's Got Talent. Their divorced parents, Bart Rockett and Kami Ballard, agreed that Ballard, who at that point lived in Missouri, would have primary custody of the children, while Rockett, who was living in California, would be "responsible for them at the beginning of each month and 'during TV pilot season.'" But Kadan and Brooklyn did not want to go home with their mother, which led to an argument in the lobby of the courthouse.
Eighmy intervened, telling Kadan and Brooklyn to come with him to a conference room, where he informed them that they had to leave with Ballard. "The children would not budge, even after the judge mentioned that the other option was foster care," Stras notes. "Frustrated, Judge Eighmy had the children follow him again, this time to a waiting area in the courthouse's juvenile division." A few minutes later, Eighmy "led them down a hallway to two holding cells."
Outside the cells, Eighmy again threatened Kadan and Brooklyn with foster care, but they were still unmoved. "Lock them up," the judge told an officer, who "patted them down and ordered them to remove their socks and shoes" before confining them in separate cells.
It is not clear exactly how much time Kadan and Brooklyn spent in the cells. The Institute for Justice says "about an hour," while Stras says "the time spent in the holding-cell area was between twenty and forty minutes." In any case, the children's respect for Eighmy's authority had improved by the time he came back. He "asked them one more time whether they would leave with their mother," Stras writes. "This time, they both nodded yes, so he let them go."
In June 2021, Rockett, the children's father, sued Eighmy on their behalf under 42 USC 1983, which authorizes claims against state or local officials who violate constitutional rights under color of law. In his motion to dismiss the lawsuit, Eighmy argued that he was protected by judicial immunity, which is absolute with respect to a judge's official duties. U.S. District Judge Douglas Harpooldisagreed, and the 8th Circuit affirmed that ruling in 2023, noting that Kadan and Brooklyn were beyond Eighmy's contempt power because they were not parties to the custody case and that "judges do not do double duty as jailers."
Eighmy reiterated his judicial immunity claim in a motion for summary judgment, and Harpool rejected it again. After the trial began, Eighmy claimed qualified immunity twice, once after all the evidence had been submitted and again after the jury's verdict in favor of Kadan and Brooklyn. Harpool denied him that defense both times.
The jury ultimately awarded Kadan and Brooklyn $5,000 each in damages, and Harpool added about $327,000 in attorney fees. Eighmy appealed again, reiterating his judicial immunity claim. But the appeals court ruled that he had abandoned that argument by failing to raise it during the trial or after the verdict. So Eighmy was left with qualified immunity, which the appeals court said he did not deserve.
Eighmy clearly violated the Fourth Amendment's prohibition of unreasonable seizures, Stras says, because he "did not have 'probable cause to believe that [the children had] committed' an offense, much less one that justified placing them in a holding cell. Rather, their only misdeed was one every parent knows well: resisting authority. Even in the context of legal-custody proceedings, refusing to leave with a parent is not a jailable offense. Nor were there 'exigent circumstances' arising out of danger to themselves or others."
Did Eighmy's authority as a judge give him extra leeway? Nope. "Criminal contempt was off the table because the children were neither parties to the custody case nor present inside the courtroom," Stras notes. "Nor could the power to punish a party for violating an injunction have provided the justification, given that Judge Eighmy never issued one."
Eighmy's motive for jailing the children does not change that analysis. "We have no doubt that Judge Eighmy believed he was acting in 'good faith,' and possibly even in the children's best interests, by detaining them," Stras writes. "But good faith in the Fourth Amendment context is about reasonable reliance, either on binding appellate precedent or a warrant issued by a 'neutral magistrate.'"
What about Eighmy's argument that he had no way of knowing his actions were unconstitutional? "The law in this area" was "clearly established," Stras says. "'[I]t would have been sufficiently clear [to] every reasonable official,' Judge Eighmy included, that locking up two children for refusing to follow directions violated the Fourth Amendment. As we put it over a decade and a half ago, long before the events in this case, '[i]t is clearly established that a warrantless arrest, unsupported by probable cause, violates the Fourth Amendment."
That principle was so well established, in fact, that Kadan and Brooklyn, neither of whom had attended law school, took it for granted. "I don't know how you have a right to lock us up," Kadan told Eighmy when he threatened to jail them, according to Rockett's amended complaint. "We have done nothing wrong." The complaint says Brooklyn raised the same point. "How can you just lock up kids?" she asked. "This isn't legal. We've done nothing wrong."
Given Eighmy's obvious disregard for Kadan and Brooklyn's Fourth Amendment rights, "we are not concerned about the lack of a prior case" with "fundamentally similar" facts, Stras says. "Indeed, given how clear the law is, it would have been surprising to find one." He quotes an observation that Supreme Court Justice Neil Gorsuch made as a 10th Circuit judge: "Sometimes the most obviously unlawful things happen so rarely that a case on point is itself an unusual thing."
A federal judge referred Philadelphia District Attorney Larry Krasner and one of his deputies to the Department of Justice for potential prosecution for alleged misconduct. In response, Krasner's office filed a motion seeking to force the Judge--Paul Diamond--from a case involving his office.
Yesterday, Judge Diamond rejected the Philly DA's motion with a terse and forcefully worded order.
Here, from the order, is some background:
In the last two years, the Third Circuit, this Court, and the Philadelphia Common Pleas Court have condemned as dishonest repeated post-trial concessions of relief made by the Philadelphia District Attorney's Office. . . . The Pennsylvania Supreme Court was so concerned that it took the remarkable step of ordering all Philadelphia Common Pleas Judges to seek the Pennsylvania Office of Attorney General's intervention whenever the DAO made a post-trial concession, so that the Attorney General could confirm the concession's honesty. . . .
The DAO's present post-trial concession is also remarkable: Here, four DAO supervisors credibly testified that the District Attorney himself and his lieutenant, Assistant District Attorney Matthew Stiegler, urged them to make false representations to this Court to "protect the office." According to "the Four," the District Attorney threatened them with "consequences" if they did not. Because these and related accusations, if true, could amount to criminal misconduct, I disqualified the District Attorney and Stiegler from participating further in this case and referred the matter to the Department of Justice for investigation. In the DAO's newly-filed Motions and the District Attorney's unsworn "Declaration"—all of which generate more heat than light—the DAO seeks my recusal from all matters in which the Office appears and asks me to reconsider my rulings in this case. I decline to do either.
And on the merits of the recusal request, here is what Judge Diamond had to say:
During the three-day hearing before me, the DAO failed to object to virtually all the rulings and actions it now challenges. That the Office chose to object only after the Court issued a decision unfavorable to the District Attorney and his lieutenant confirms that the DAO merely disagrees with those rulings. . . .
The Office challenges my noting that the District Attorney neither testified nor offered an affidavit in response to the Four's testimony—on which I based my disqualification order and DOJ referral. I do not credit the District Attorney's absurd suggestion that he did not know he could testify—especially after I twice asked DAO counsel if he wished to call any witnesses. Nor has the District Attorney explained why he did not offer a responsive affidavit, which would have required the declarant to tell the truth (under penalty of false swearing). The Office thus cannot truthfully dispute that the District Attorney chose not to give his version of events in Court under oath. The DAO's apparent belief that this tactical choice was reasonable hardly warrants recusal.
Finally, the DAO believes that I should have been leerier of Mason's testimony—the various corroborative documents notwithstanding—and more responsive to the uncorroborated, dubious testimony of Stiegler. Again, disagreement with my credibility determination is not a basis for recusal. Liteky, 510 U.S. at 555 ("[O]pinions formed by the judge on the basis of facts introduced or events occurring in the course of the current proceedings . . . do not constitute a basis for a bias or partiality motion unless they display a deep-seated favoritism or antagonism that would make fair judgment impossible."); Wecht, 484 F.3d at 220–21 (recusal not warranted despite the court's "skewed and unfair reading of the record"). The other arguments the DAO raises do not warrant discussion. Accordingly, I will deny as frivolous the Motion for Recusal.
And on the question of reconsideration:
The DAO does not discuss or even mention the burden and criteria a party seeking reconsideration must meet. Rather, as it did in seeking my recusal, the Office urges me to revisit my rulings because it disagrees with them. Once again, that disagreement does not warrant reconsideration. . . .
I will not discuss here every protest the Office makes to virtually all my rulings, my credibility determinations, and (once again) my reference to the District Attorney's silence in the face of damning testimony from his own employees and former employee. In his belated, unsworn "Declaration" the District Attorney attacks three of these witnesses as unworthy of belief. This after-the-fact attempt to cram "evidence" into a closed record seems intended to persuade the media, not the Court. In any event, the evidence is unpersuasive and does not warrant reconsideration. . . .
Accordingly, I will again deny the DAO's frivolous Motion.
Judge Diamond's order concludes:
Four of the District Attorney's supervisors offered powerful, unrebutted testimony that their boss and Stiegler urged them to misrepresent to this Court. When the Four told the District Attorney that he had thus created a conflict compelling them to inform the Court and withdraw from this case, he threatened them with "consequences." There are few attorney transgressions more serious than lying to the Court, urging others to do so, or threatening them should they tell the Court the truth. . . . If this in fact occurred, it is all the more serious because it occurred after four Courts condemned the DAO's conduct in circumstances like those presented here. Disqualifying the District Attorney and Stiegler and referring them for investigation is thus reasonable and warranted. That the District Attorney chose not to testify but sought to "make his case" with an unsworn declaration—the credibility of which I am unable to assess—makes that investigation even more necessary. Although Mr. Krasner may yet have the opportunity to testify under oath in another forum, his intemperate filings provide no basis for recusal or reconsideration of my rulings.
According to The Washington Post, "The chairman of the Republican-led House Oversight Committee is investigating two D.C.-based activist groups over hosting what he called 'jury nullification training sessions,' claiming that their instructions given to potential jurors were an illegal attempt to subvert federal prosecutors."
The committee chair in question, Rep. James Comer (R–Ky.), has set his sights on the groups known as Free DC and Harriet's Wildest Dreams because they, in Comer's words, believe "that potential jurors should not make decisions impartially based on applying the law as instructed to the facts presented before them in the case, but based on their subjective, personal beliefs and activist agendas."
I hate to break it to Comer, but many prominent members of America's Founding generation would have agreed with those D.C. activists.
The debate over jury nullification asks whether there is a proper place in our legal system for a jury to acquit, not because of any lack of evidence of a defendant's guilt, but because the jury believes the underlying law that was supposedly broken, or the prosecutor's particular enforcement of that law, to be unconstitutional.
In 1791, the influential Founding Father James Wilson, who was a signer of both the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Constitution, delivered a widely discussed lecture on law at the College of Philadelphia. "Whoever would be obliged to obey a constitutional law, is justified in refusing to obey an unconstitutional act of the legislature," Wilson said. "When a question, even of this delicate nature, occurs, every one who is called to act, has a right to judge." Needless to say, jurors are among those "called to act" in this very manner. Jurors therefore have their own "right to judge" the constitutionality of the law (and prosecution) before them.
Thomas Jefferson made a similar point in a 1789 letter to Thomas Paine. "The trial by jury," Jefferson wrote, is "the only anchor ever yet imagined by man, by which a government can be held to the principles of its constitution." How else may a jury hold the government accountable to the principles of the Constitution than by judging for itself the constitutionality of the government's actions, including the actions of the police and prosecution?
According to Comer, the job of a juror is mechanically "applying the law as instructed to the facts presented before them in the case."
But that's not what Founding Fathers such as Wilson and Jefferson thought. They argued that the job of the juror was to apply the text of the Constitution to the actions of the government and to acquit the defendant if either the law or its enforcement came up short. As Alexis de Tocqueville put it in his great book, Democracy in America, the jury "places the real direction of society in the hands of the governed, or a portion of the governed, and not in that of the government."
In Other Legal News
The U.S. Supreme Court heard oral arguments this week in two cases that are worth keeping track of.
On Tuesday, the justices weighed the matter of Beaird v. United States, which asks how much judicial deference is owed to the U.S. Sentencing Commission's commentary on the federal sentencing guidelines when a judge is applying those guidelines during a federal criminal defendant's sentencing. You can read this newsletter's past coverage of that case here.
On Wednesday, the justices took on the matter of Salazar v. Paramount Global, which asks whether the website 247Sports violated the Video Privacy Protection Act of 1988 when it shared a user's private information, including what videos he watched, with Facebook. Past Injustice System coverage of that case is available here.
Thanks to a 2005 DUI conviction in Pennsylvania, Edward Williams permanently lost the constitutional right to keep and bear arms. But he did not realize that until a decade later, and his confusion on that point is understandable.
The federal law that stripped Williams of his Second Amendment rights is commonly described as applying to "felons," and Williams' offense was a misdemeanor. But although his sentence did not include any time behind bars, his crime theoretically could have sent him to prison for up to five years. That was enough to trigger 18 USC 922(g)(1), which covers anyone convicted of "a crime punishable by imprisonment for a term exceeding one year."
When a lawyer alerted Williams to that wrinkle, which made his continued ownership of firearms a federal felony, he got rid of his guns. But he did not think that requirement was fair, reasonable, or constitutional, and this week a federal appeals court agreed. The U.S. Court of Appeals for the 3rd Circuit recognized a historical tradition of disarming "physically dangerous individuals" whose possession of firearms would pose a threat to public safety. But it said Williams plainly does not fit into that category.
"The federal government spent nearly a decade trying to permanently disarm a peaceable man over a nonviolent misdemeanor—and it lost bigly," says Brandon Combs, president of the Firearms Policy Coalition, which supported Williams' lawsuit. "The government does not get to turn a nonviolent conviction into a lifetime ban on exercising a constitutionally protected right."
The 3rd Circuit's en banc decision in Williams v. Attorney General affirms a 2023 ruling by a federal judge who likewise concluded that disarming Williams was unconstitutional. It elaborates on the logic of Range v. Attorney General, a 2023 decision that restored the gun rights of a Pennsylvania man who had been convicted of food stamp fraud. In both cases, the 3rd Circuit held that applying Section 922(g)(1) to the plaintiffs was not "consistent with this Nation's historical tradition of firearm regulation"—the Second Amendment test established by the Supreme Court's 2022 decision in New York State Rifle & Pistol Association v. Bruen.
Writing for the majority in Williams' case, 3rd Circuit Judge Paul Matey acknowledges that the Supreme Court has described "longstanding prohibitions on the possession of firearms by felons" as "presumptively lawful." But "those longstanding customs restricted the violently dangerous (within which some felons would be included), not felons writ large," he says. "Felons were restricted because they posed a physical danger, rather than for their offense of conviction."
Matey argues that "focusing on physical dangerousness corrects the erroneous argument" that "only law-abiding and responsible citizens can exercise the rights protected by the Second Amendment"—a claim that the Supreme Court rejected in the 2024 case United States v. Rahimi. "We find no history that supports disarming irresponsible people, where 'responsible' is defined by the whim of the sovereign or the will of the majority," he says, alluding to the danger of allowing legislators to whittle away at the Second Amendment by criminalizing an ever-widening range of conduct.
Matey emphasizes "the novelty of forever restricting all felons from possessing firearms for lawful purposes." The original restriction, which Congress approved in 1938 as part of the Federal Firearms Act, applied only to violent crimes such as murder, manslaughter, rape, kidnapping, robbery, and assault with a deadly weapon. In 1961, Congress expanded the ban to cover nonviolent crimes punishable by more than a year in prison.
Williams' 2005 DUI conviction qualified for two reasons. He had a prior DUI conviction, stemming from a 2000 arrest in State College. And when he was arrested again in Philadelphia four years later, his blood alcohol concentration was a whopping 0.223 percent. That made his second offense a first-degree misdemeanor, which carries a maximum prison sentence of five years.
Since then, Williams has stayed out of trouble. "He has done nothing violent, let alone dangerous, for over twenty years, and has held steady employment at the same job for over three decades," Matey notes. Williams drinks only occasionally, and a psychological evaluation found he "has a normal personality, without psychopathology and without addiction or violent tendencies."
The Justice Department nevertheless argued that Williams' continuing disarmament is consistent with the Bruen test, which requires historical analogs that are "relevantly similar" in motivation and scope. In making that case, the government relied mainly on early laws aimed at "habitual drunkards"—the same analogy that the Supreme Court unanimously rejected last June in United States v. Hemani, which involved the federal ban on gun possession by "unlawful" drug users.
Although the Justice Department "acknowledges it may proscribe Williams's possession of firearms only if he 'presently poses a physical danger if armed,'" Matey says, it "offers no evidence to establish this as the aim of the habitual drunkard laws." Those laws, the Supreme Court noted in Hemani, "did not seek to protect the public from violence so much as to protect habitual drunkards from themselves and their families from financial devastation."
Nor did the habitual drunkard laws permanently disarm people, as Section 922(g)(1) does. "Most statutes capped the commitment of habitual drunkards to the state inebriate asylum, prison, or hard labor to a few months or years," Matey notes. "Others provided for an indefinite period of incarceration, but had no indication that upon release individuals continued to forfeit their arms. Rather, once someone was 'safe' to 'go at large,' they were restored to the status of a full rights-bearing citizen."
Contrary to the considerations that the Supreme Court deemed relevant in Hemani, Matey says, the Justice Department "fails to show that Williams threatens to 'misuse[] a gun while intoxicated,' or that he 'poses a danger to himself or others as a result' of
alcohol abuse. In fact, much like those nineteenth-century drunkards released from custody and restored their rights, the record shows that Williams poses no present physical danger from the use of a firearm, or anything else."
The 3rd Circuit is one of three federal appeals courts that have allowed people with nonviolent felony records to argue that Section 922(g)(1) is unconstitutional as applied to them. But such challenges have been blocked in six circuits, notwithstanding compelling historical evidence that the law reaches much farther than the Second Amendment allows. So far, the Supreme Court has declined to accept any of the many petitions asking it to resolve that circuit split.
The scope of the investigation into Omar is unclear, though Homeland Security Secretary Markwayne Mullin has suggested that authorities were examining potential crimes related to her family's immigration paperwork.
The UDF government’s plan to open up plantation land for tourism and industry carries the name of a demand from Adivasi and Dalit movements but leaves out the land they were promised.
Recent warnings from American AI leaders have created the impression that the world is only beginning to confront the dangers of advanced artificial intelligence.
His proposal begins with independent evaluators embedded inside AI companies, moves on to regulation and progresses to government-backed coordination among democratic states.
Ultimately, it seeks global agreements with China on testing of AI systems, dangerous applications of the technology and the pace of AI development.
Yet there is a China-shaped hole in this narrative. The Asian superpower is portrayed as the difficult final participant in a governance system that the US and its allies must first create.
In fact, China has already established an extensive system of AI rules, assessment, filing, technical standards and government oversight. Here’s how China’s AI governance system has developed in stages alongside the technology itself.
Beijing’s 2022 rules on algorithmic recommendation services apply to technologies that select, rank, filter or recommend online content to users.
They compel companies that use algorithms to examine how they work, to protect the personal information of users, to give users certain controls, and to introduce safeguards for workers, consumers, children and older people.
China’s deep synthesis provisions, effective from January 2023, extended regulation to synthetic (or AI-generated) text, images, audio and video. AI companies must authenticate users, protect data, keep relevant records, assess their systems and identify synthetic material that could be mistaken for authentic content.
The interim measures for generative artificial intelligence services were introduced in August 2023. These added rules for public-facing generative AI, particularly those that can influence public opinion or persuade uses in other ways.
The measures apply to the legality and quality of training data, users’ personal information, intellectual property and discrimination based on protected characteristics. The rules also cover transparency by AI companies and the accuracy and reliability of products.
Under the rules, companies must address problems found in their services. These services must undergo a security assessment to examine their risks and compliance with Chinese legislation. The companies must also file information about their algorithms with Chinese authorities.
These mechanisms are not identical to the independent evaluators that would be embedded in AI companies, as has been proposed by Amodei. But they perform some of the same functions.
Frontier risks
Beijing’s latest set of measures is called the AI safety governance framework 3.0, published in September 2026. It sets out a broad approach to identifying, grading and responding to risks throughout the lifecycle of AI systems.
Building on earlier versions, the framework covers AI model and data risks, vulnerabilities in open source models (those which can be freely modified by users), AI’s effects on employment and society and increasingly autonomous systems.
It includes a dedicated mechanism for managing risks associated with rapidly developing AI agents (systems that carry out tasks in response to instructions by a user).
The framework addresses some of the same dangers now generating alarm in Silicon Valley, including highly autonomous systems, the misuse of chemical, biological and nuclear technologies, and the possibility of humans losing control of advanced AI. It proposes continual safety evaluations, risk based safeguards, humans being in charge, and emergency intervention mechanisms.
An independent analysis by the US Carnegie Endowment for International Peace thinktank has described the framework as China’s attempt to “to advance frontier safety without the need for heavy handed regulatory interventions”.
Legal consequences
None of this means that Chinese AI rules should be transplanted elsewhere. Its institutions, regulatory traditions and technological priorities are different.
Many functions now presented as urgent aspirations in the US, including evaluation, accountability for AI companies, risk classification for AI systems, regulatory filing, technical standards and government oversight are already embedded in the governance architecture of the world’s other AI superpower.
The US is free to conclude that a market-led system best serves its economic and strategic interests. The Trump administration has favoured a “minimally burdensome” national approach to AI and has sought to limit more demanding state-level regulation.
But a market-led model cannot mean privatising the rewards of AI while exporting its risks. US companies may capture the commercial gains, while governments elsewhere are left to investigate security incidents, protect public systems and absorb the wider costs when those technologies fail. The OpenAI agent that gained unauthorised access to Australia’s state healthcare service shows how AI risks are being exported.
If Washington rejects extensive controls before systems are released, the US needs a credible legal regime for assessing who is liable for damage caused by those AI models. Otherwise, countries dependent on foreign AI systems will face increasingly difficult choices about whose technology to trust, and on what terms.
Silicon Valley’s governing ethos has long been to “move fast and break things”. That was always a questionable principle for technologies woven deeply into public life. It is untenable for companies whose own leaders now warn that their products could cause catastrophic harm.
Beijing has already surrounded its AI sector with public obligations, regulatory oversight and an evolving framework of risk assessment. A global debate that treats such governance as a future aspiration should at least recognise that one country is already ahead of the curve.
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