Critical reflections on the Cantu commutation … aka why some federal prosecutors perhaps deserve to be demonized
The more I reflect on the typo-correction sentence commutation of federal prisoner Cesar Huerta Cantu (basics here), and especially after re-reading this 2255 dismissal order that followed Cantu’s own effort to have a court fix its own significant sentencing error, the more disgusted I feel about the modern federal sentencing system and especially about the U.S. Department of Justice and those federal prosecutors most responsible for Cesar Cantu’s treatment by our Kafkaesque system. In an effort to achieve some catharsis, let me try to briefly explain my feelings in three basic points:
1. Cantu’s original federal sentencing as guidelines numerology: My disgust begins as I think about the basic reality that our federal sentencing system enables a small numerical typo — what should have been a 34 was a 36 in the presentence report guideline calculations — to result in 38-year-old defendant with no criminal history (who pleaded guilty and had considerable family support) to get sentenced to an extra 3.5 years in prison. I continue to struggle to find much sense of justice or wisdom in a federal sentencing system in which quantitative numbers invented by a government agency, rather than qualitative factors and reasoned judgment, often still conclusively determine how many years or decades defendants are ordered to spend locked in a cage.
2. Cantu’s original federal sentencing as federal actors gone numb: Arguably more depressing than a federal sentencing system in which numbers invented by a government agency determine how long a defendant gets locked up are sentencing actors whose concern for the human realities of incarceration have been numbed by all the numbers. One would hope that, as part of a system in which years of human experience for federal defendants (and those who care about them) get determined by basic math, everyone involved would make extra sure the math is always done right. But, numbed by so many humans being imprisoned for so many years based on so many numbers, the author of the PSR did not notice a typo that inflated Cantu’s guideline-recommend prison sentence by many years, and neither did the defense attorney representing Cantu, and neither did the US Attorneys prosecuting Cantu, and neither did the federal judge sentencing Cantu.
3. Cantu’s dismissed 2255 motion as federal prosecutors possessed: Bill Otis and others sometimes complain that I seem at times to suggest federal prosecutors are evil or satanic. In fact, I have great respect for the hard work of federal prosecutors, and I am sure I would much rather have my daughters date 99% of federal prosecutors than 99% of federal defendants. But I must wonder about what kind of evil or satanic forces may have possessed the federal prosecutors who responded to Cantu’s pro se 2255 motion to correct his sentence with a motion to dismiss this matter as time-barred.
Based on my reading of this 2255 dismissal order that followed Cantu’s motion, federal prosecutors have never disputed that a typo resulted in Cantu receiving a sentence 3.5 years longer than he should have, nor have they disputed that federal government officials are wholly responsible for this consequential error. Still, the federal prosecutors who contributed to a mistake costing Cantu 3.5 years of his freedom responded to his 2255 motion by urging the sentencing judge also responsible for this mistake to refuse to correct Cantu’s sentence because Cantu discovered their mistakes too late. I am hard-pressed to come up with adjectives to describe this federal prosecutorial decision to seek dismissal of Cantu’s 2255 motion other than inhumane.
I want to be able to imagine a positive motivation for why federal prosecutors sought a procedural dismissal of Cantu’s motion to correct his indisputably erroneous sentence: perhaps, I was thinking, six years after prosecutors helped get an erroneously long sentence imposed on Cantu, these prosecutors came to believe Cantu was a criminal mastermind still involved in serious criminal wrongdoing from prison. But, as this New York Times article reports, years after his initial erroneous sentencing, Cantu provided “law enforcement authorities with substantial assistance on an unrelated criminal matter” and “he has been a model prisoner, taking vocational and life skills courses and expressing remorse.” In addition, according to the Times reporting, Cantu is married and has 8-year old daughter. Even if prosecutors were, for whatever reasons, disinclined to help Cantu get his erroneous sentence fixed after Cantu himself had helped the prosecutors, wouldn’t they lose a little sleep over the notion that a typo could end up costing Cantu’s wife the chance to have her husband’s help to raise their daughter during her coming adolescence?
I am hoping Bill Otis or other current or former federal prosecutors will help me feel better about the work of our federal sentencing system and the Department of Justice in the wake of the Cantu commutation. Especially because Prez Obama has been so stingy with his clemency power, I want this latest commutation to be a reason to celebrate rather than curse our justice system. But unless and until someone can metamorphasize my understanding of the work of federal prosecutors in this case, I have a hard time not thinking that Josef K. and Cantu have far too much in common.