Imagine, if you will, that you are a reasonable Massachusetts resident who awakens early one spring morning to find that some evil prankster has littered the lawn and sidewalk outside your home with open bear traps and slimy old banana peels. You know that dozens of kids will be walking past on their way to your nearby middle school within the hour.

Your responsibility under the circumstances is pretty clear here, at least unless you’re prepared to pay for a wardful of kiddie-sized artificial limbs: you’re going to have to clear out, rope off, or otherwise mitigate an obvious hazard to the public on your property.

Easy enough. Now try this one: what if it were a January morning, and you awoke to find that your sidewalk had naturally frozen into a solid sheet of slippery snow and ice? Until recently, you could have thrown some popcorn in the microwave, eased into your favorite bunny slippers, and enjoyed the hilarious slip-and-fall antics with your morning coffee.

The ice was, you see, merely a “natural accumulation.” It came from the sky! It wasn’t your fault!

That’s right: Massachusetts law for the past 150 years has held property owners responsible only for injuries resulting from “unnatural accumulations” of snow and ice. While the “natural” vs. “unnatural” distinction is about as unnatural as it gets, the best I’ve been able to discern is that accumulations caused by any kind of “synthetic” means (i.e., your mother going a little crazy with the snowblower) incur liability, while those which have fallen into place “naturally” (i.e., Mother Nature) do not.

This rule, eliminated at long last today in Papadopolous v. Target, was so stupid that it has been known nationwide as “The Massachusetts Rule” for at least the past century. (This kind of special treatment is not generally proportionate to a given rule’s logic or correctness.) It is an ancient holdover from a time when a completely different legal standard was applied to the duty owed by landowners to people who might be passing over their property in the normal course of business (”invitees”) as opposed to paying tenants.¹

I don’t have much of a stomach for torts,² but anyone who was mostly conscious through their first year of law school will recall the “duty of reasonable care” which homeowners owe to those—even, in some cases, known trespassers—who may be crossing over their property. The principle is pretty straightforward: Every man’s home is his castle, and if you want to cover your floors in rancid butter, rusty caltrops, and used medical supplies, you have every right to do so—so long as you don’t expose anyone else to these conditions. If you know (or have reason to know) of a hazard which might be encountered by others, you have a legal³ responsibility to employ all reasonable means available to clean it up. Hence the banana peels-and-bear-traps hypothetical above, and the simple logic of today’s decision. While a general duty of reasonable care to anyone who might cross their property has been the law for property owners in the Commonwealth since at least the 1977, the courts never bothered to shovel up the old “natural” vs. “unnatural” distinction for snow and ice—and plaintiffs have been tripping up on it ever since.

This weird little exception to the reasonable care rule is somewhat understandable on a practical level: clearing out snow in the middle of a New England winter is a lot of work. But even Rhode Island⁴ snidely parted ways with Massachusetts on this years ago, laconically noting that:

We believe that today a landlord, armed with an ample supply of salt, sand, scrapers, shovels and even perhaps a snow blower, can acquit himself quite admirably as he takes to the common passageways to do battle with the fallen snow, the sun-melted snow now turned to ice, or the frozen rain.

–-Fuller v. Housing Auth. of Providence, 108 R.I. 770, 773 (1971)(emphasis added)

The SJC has basically adopted this reasoning, albeit in slightly less-quotable form, and scattered enough quick-melt salt on the old “natural accumulation” rule to do away with it forever. It even liked this development so much that it opted to make the rule fully retroactive—complete with the usual inevitable assurances that, really, there’s no reason to think that any litigation-minded plaintiff would actually be impolite enough to reach for the blank checkbook this might present for anyone who has taken a spill on some ice in the past 150 years.⁵

As of Papadopolous, the SJC has now finally—mercifully—brought Massachusetts to the very cutting edge of postmodern snow law. Bonus: this decision lands in the middle of one of the Commonwealth’s hottest summers on record.

Happy shoveling!

1. The SJC has provided a perfectly serviceable review of the 150 years of relevant law within its opinion which I don’t feel any need to retread here. [↩]
2. at least those not served a la mode [↩]
3. if not moral and social [↩]
4. Rhode Island! A place so married to tradition that it is the last American state to continue to openly celebrate Victory over Japan Day! [↩]
5. I kid. This was, of course, a major change to a common law rule, a circumstance which generally demands retroactivity. I just love how every time any court announces a groundbreaking retroactive rule it always seems to feel obligated to add that this won’t really, y’know, change anything, and there’s certainly no reason to believe that it will inspire a fresh wave of legal action. [↩]

Uncategorized massachusetts, stupid laws

Former Catholic priest Paul R. Shanley was back in the news this week when his appeal from denial of his motion for a new trial following his 2005 conviction on sex abuse charges was accepted for further review by the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court. His motion, largely based upon the allegedly improper use of expert testimony regarding so-called “repressed memories,” raises some interesting issues, and I look forward to seeing how the SJC addresses them.

Since it’s not often that a motion for a new trial makes headlines, I thought that this would be a good time to address questions which I am often asked in connection with vacating convictions in Massachusetts. I should note up front that while practitioners typically refer to this process as a “motion for new trial,” these motions are also legally identical to motions to withdraw a guilty plea, and are often collectively referred to as “motions to vacate.” I will be using this last term throughout this post not only because it is somewhat simpler, but also because I like the sound of it.

What is a motion to vacate?

Rule 30(b) of the Massachusetts Rules of Criminal Procedure states that judges may vacate prior convictions “at any time” upon a showing that “justice may not have been done” in the prior proceedings. This includes convictions arising either from trials or guilty pleas.

If turning back the clock to rectify a situation in which “justice may not have been done” sounds like a job for Superman—or, if Mr. Kent is otherwise engaged, perhaps Matt Murdock—you can think of Rule 30(b) as a Massachusetts judge’s own personal phone booth. It bestows the courts with extraordinary powers, which is exactly why they generally choose to exercise them only in extraordinary circumstances.

How is a motion to vacate different from an appeal?

Motions to vacate differ from direct appeals in two significant ways:

1) Timing.  Notice of direct appeal from a criminal conviction must be brought within 30 days of the date of conviction, although late appeals may be permitted under certain circumstances. Under Rule 30(b), however, a motion to vacate a conviction may be brought “at any time.” It is not uncommon to see these motions brought decades or more after the original conviction, usually when the defendant is facing serious collateral consequences such as deportation or enhanced sentencing in a subsequent charge.

2) Content. New evidence may not be raised on direct appeal, as all claims made on appeal must be supported by the settled record in the trial court. A motion for new trial presents an opportunity to expand the record with information which did not appear in prior proceedings. This could be exculpatory (newly-available eyewitness testimony, new scientific evidence, etc.) or, more commonly, evidence as to elements of the trial (usually, but not always, attorney performance) which are not immediately apparent from the face of the record.

What does it take to vacate a conviction?

Grounds for a successful motion to vacate can vary widely, and you should consult an attorney who is experienced with these unique and highly technical motions if you believe that “justice may not have been done” in any criminal proceeding. Possible reasons for vacating convictions will depend entirely on the circumstances of your case, but they may include deficiencies in the plea hearing, problems at trial (including ineffective assistance of trial counsel), and/or newly-available exculpatory evidence.

Dude, I was totally high when I pled to that. Shouldn’t I get another chance?

Maybe, but probably not. Read more…

Criminal Appeals, massachusetts massachusetts, post-conviction, vacating convictions

There’s a lot to love about being a licensed attorney in the Commonwealth. I’m proud to be  serving the oldest functioning written constitution in the world (the only state constitution to specifically mention “the duty of legislatures and magistrates… to cherish the interests of literature“!) , and to have taken an Attorney’s Oath which has remained unchanged since 1686. The Boston Massacre took place right outside one of my favorite T stations, where fellow Mass Bar member John Adams secured acquittals for six of the eight British soldiers involved only yards away.

But, like the man said, the past isn’t dead… it isn’t even past. For as much as there is to love about having a constitution and an attorney’s oath that are at least twice as old as most American states, it also means that we sometimes have to live with statutes that are just as old–or older.

Our legislature’s woeful failure to update some of our creakiest and most ancient statutes seems to be driven by the same philosophy that has kept the cult of King James going in certain Christian circles: If it was good enough in 1620, it’s good enough for 2008.

Take G.L.c. 272 Sec. 53 (…please!). Although it’s usually referenced as the “disorderly conduct” statute, it is actually a tasty smorgasbord of old-timey criminality. Namely:

Common night walkers, common street walkers, both male and female, common railers and brawlers, persons who with offensive and disorderly acts or language accost or annoy persons of the opposite sex, lewd, wanton and lascivious persons in speech or behavior, idle and disorderly persons, disturbers of the peace, keepers of noisy and disorderly houses, and persons guilty of indecent exposure…

There’s a lot to say about this damnably stupid law, starting with this: It needs to die. Just ask our own Supreme Judicial Court:

We note at the outset that G.L.c. 272 Sec. 53 has been saved, although sometimes just barely, by several limiting constructions and we have repeatedly commented that the statute is archaic and in need of legislative scrutiny.

Commonwealth v. Chou, 433 Mass. 229 (2001), FN2.

Which is to say: Boys,  load up yer shotguns, drag this thing out back, and kindly shoot it in the HEAD. Read more…

Criminal Appeals, disorderly conduct, massachusetts, stupid laws appeals, criminal law, disorderly conduct, massachusetts, stupid laws