Dorf on Law

Mostly law-related musings by Cornell Professor Michael Dorf and some of his lawyer/professor friends

Thursday, December 21, 2006

The Admissibility of Violent Rap Lyrics

Yesterday’s federal court murder conviction of Ronnell Wilson rested in part on the prosecution’s introduction into evidence of rap lyrics that Wilson had composed. A wire story explains that prosecutors nationwide have increasingly relied on rap lyrics in pursuing cases against accused criminals. The story does not, however, draw what should be some important distinctions.

In some of the cases, rap compositions by the defendant have been introduced essentially as confessions. This strikes me as appropriate. To be sure, there is a risk that someone who boasts in his song that he committed a particular rape or murder is puffing, but that risk is no different from the risk one encounters in a prosaic confession.

The more interesting cases involve prosecutors introducing lyrics composed by the defendant or to which the defendant listened prior to the crime he allegedly committed. Here I see two issues, one not serious, the other more serious. The not-serious issue is freedom of expression. We might worry that the evidentiary use of rap lyrics will chill their creation or enjoyment. I realize that there are many people who would deem that a positive result, but I’m going to assume that the First Amendment would deem it a negative. Nonetheless, it strikes me that the First Amendment simply does not protect against this sort of use of artistic taste or creativity. John Doe may have a First Amendment right to read American Psycho, but if he’s charged with committing a murder that is identical to one depicted in the book, the fact that he did in fact read it tends to show that he could have been the killer. This is even more clearly true where the author or composer of an obscure work stands accused of committing a crime much like one appearing in the work.

The more serious worry, it strikes me, is one of ordinary evidence law: Prosecutors may be introducing rap lyrics to circumvent the propensity rule. The Federal version of that rule (Fed. R. Evid. 404(a)) provides: “Evidence of a person's character or a trait of character is not admissible for the purpose of proving action in conformity therewith on a particular occasion . . . .” However, a prosecutor can introduce a rap song to show intent or plan or something else that’s relevant so long as it does not rely on the following chain of inference: This guy listens to or writes violent rap; therefore this guy is bad; therefore this guy is guilty. Where the same evidence is relevant both to character (and thus the “bad guy” inference) and to something legitimately contested, such as m.o., the trial judge is supposed to balance the legitimately probative character of the evidence against its unfairly prejudicial impact. The gist of the wire story linked above is that judges are generally striking that balance in favor of admission of rap lyrics. I’d need to know a lot more about the individual cases to say that this is the right balance, but given the popularity of rap, I’m dubious. Where it doesn’t tightly correlate with the particulars of the crime, the taste for rap may not actually tell us that a defendant has much more of a taste for real violence than does the taste for the violence of, say, Itchy & Scratchy. But for jurors who don’t themselves have the taste for rap (read “middle-aged white people” like me) the shock value may be so great as to trigger the bad guy inference.

3 Comments:

  • At 11:21 AM, Blogger da_2_b said…

    I wonder if there's an argument to me made that something that was written by the defendant is more likely to be admissible than something that the defendant just listened to.

     
  • At 1:46 PM, Blogger Octopus Grigori said…

    I think admitting rap lyrics not composed by the defendant that the defendant listened to prior to committing a crime is an unambiguously terrible idea.

    Doesn't this take us down the line of pulling defendants' library records, their Netflix cues (did they watch "Reservoir Dogs" or "Taxi Driver" or "Saw 3"), etc.?

    There's simply no getting around rap's identity as a "black" musical genre. Tarring a defendant with the "stigma" of listening to hardcore rap is not too different, in my mind, from saying, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, this is a black kid from the ghetto; black people from the ghetto are violent; there are lots of guns and drugs there, and, well, you get the picture . . . ."

    Moreover, I'm going to venture that 99% of the kids in South Central L.A. or Detroit, Chicago's South Side, etc., listen to hardcore rap. They are not listening to the Dixie Chicks, Tori Amos, or the Decemberists. As a practical matter, wouldn't hardcore rap lyrics be admissible against any defendant from these areas? And do we need to think very hard about why that would be wrong?

    Sure, maybe we could introduce hardcore violent metal or death rock or the like against white defendants, but (1) I don't know if that is happening, and (2) it would not carry the same suggestions of black=violent and criminal.

    I feel I am becoming the P.C. police, but it really does seem to me that culturally "white" prosecutors (and this does not depend on the color of the prosecutors' skin, cf. Clarence Thomas or Condoleeza Rice) are fully susceptible to common reflexive, unconscious racial prejudices, which can be shoehorned into some type of elegant legal justification.

     
  • At 6:27 PM, Blogger David C. said…

    Reading octopus's comment, I too at first had a similar concern: that prosecutors were "confirming" for the jury its assumptions about an African-American defendant, by establishing that the defendant comported with the negative stereotypes of an inner-city, violent, black man.

    That said, I wonder if the problem is culturally white prosecutors who themselves suffer from racial prejudices. I'm only working off intuituions, but I'd wager that the prosecutors would introduce evidence that: a white teenager defendant played a lot of violent video games, watched the (violent) Matrix, and visited violent websites; a rich white CEO defendant lived lavishly, ordering expensive shower curtains and treating his subordinates like dirt; that an ex-con was at it again (when allowed to introduce such evidence); that a substance abuser who did violence to himself would do violence to others; etc. In other words, I think prosecutors probably are, as a class, a zealous group that is happy to play to any of a jury's prejudices, not just those that involve African-Americans. I'm not saying this is a good thing, especially if juries save their most vicious prejudices for young African-American males. But I wonder if the rap issue is not as much a phenomenon of racism as it is of prosecutors pushing the limits of 404.

    Having just taken Evidence, I always thought one of the most interesting questions that the professor would pose was: If you were on a jury, wouldn't you want to know this? In all of the above examples---the white, Doom-playing teen; the avaricious CEO; the ex-con; and the rap-writing/listening teen, I wonder if I were on a jury if I'd want to have that info kept from me. It may condemn the majority of defendants who appear to align with our prejudices, but boy would it make us think hard about the CEO who donated 80% of his wealth to non-profits; the white and black teens who spent their time at violin recital; and the substance abuser who demonstrated, for example, that he never abused when driving or when around kids (i.e., a significant measure of self-control). If that's the case, keeping the info from the jury can be a fruitless effort if the jury will always assume the worst about a defendant---that he lives up to the stereotypes. While we might be able to kick out substance abuse habits and personal wealth on 403, and felony status on 609, we are stuck with our age and skin color. Octopus assumes "that 99% of the kids in South Central L.A. or Detroit, Chicago's South Side, etc., listen to hardcore rap." Juries might leap to the same conclusions when staring at a African American defendant, even if it happens to be a product of the fact they themselves have never lived within these communities. If it's the elephant in the room, so to speak, it might be better to air it out in court so that the defense can show its irrelevance when the sterotypes prove somewhat true, and so the defense can show the inapplicability of the sterotypes (and the resulting inferences) when the defendant does not live up to billing. Of course, 404 attempts to do this now by letting the defense control the introduction of character evidence, and maybe we just need stricter enforcement. I dunno.

     

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