US Supreme Court Justice Sotomayor Refuses to Agree Police Can Do No Wrong: The Explanation of “He Reached for His Waistband” is a Depressingly Well-worn One, Trotted Out All Too Often to Justify Police Shootings
April 26, 2017
(
Rewire) - In 2010, Chris Thompson, a Houston police officer, shot Ricardo
Salazar-Limon in the back. Salazar-Limon remains partially paralyzed.
Salazar-Limon sued Thompson and the City of Houston, saying that the
shooting was excessive force—in other words, that Thompson had no right
to shoot him. The case wound its way through the courts for years.
This
week, it
ended up at the U.S. Supreme Court
over one critical question: Can the word of a police officer defending
an excessive force claim be considered an “undisputed fact” in a
lawsuit, even if that account differs from their accuser?
Like a lot of cases involving police violence, there is
considerable dispute between Salazar-Limon and Thompson about what happened that night in 2010.
Both parties agree as to how it all started: Thompson was operating a
speed gun that evening, and he recorded Salazar-Limon’s speed as over
the limit. He pulled Salazar-Limon over and asked for his license. He
checked the license and found no open warrants or charges, but told
Salazar-Limon to get out of his truck
, as he was being detained on suspicion of driving drunk.
After that, things get muddy. Salazar-Limon and Thompson both say
that they struggled, but differ on how much and how long. Thompson
contended it went on for quite some time and that Salazar-Limon pushed
him toward oncoming traffic. Salazar-Limon, on the other hand,
characterized the encounter as brief.
Following the struggle, Salazar-Limon pulled away and started to walk
back to his truck. Thompson ordered him to stop. Salazar-Limon said
that Thompson then shot him within seconds. Thompson said that
Salazar-Limon not only didn’t stop, but he also raised his hands to his
waistband, as if he was reaching for a gun. (No gun was ever found.)
Only then, according to Thompson, did he shoot Salazar-Limon.
When Salazar-Limon sued over questions of excessive force, the lower
court granted summary judgment in favor of Thompson and the City of
Houston. The Fifth Circuit upheld that decision.
Summary judgment
is designed to allow courts to decide cases prior to trial, but it can
only be granted when there are no disputes over key facts. A key fact is
something integral to the dispute between the parties. In other words,
when two parties disagree over the foundational facts of the case, the
court can’t grant summary judgment.
Here, the parties disagree over the very essence of the case: Did
Thompson shoot Salazar-Limon in the back for no reason, or did he do so
because he believed Salazar-Limon was reaching for his waistband and
therefore possibly a gun? When this level of disagreement occurs, the
court generally has to let the case go to trial so a jury can sort out
which party is more credible.
On Monday,
the Supreme Court refused to hear Salazar-Limon’s appeal in
Salazar-Limon v. City of Houston. In concurring with the
denial of certiorari,
Justice Samuel Alito essentially said there was no dispute over the key
facts because, although Salazar-Limon and Thompson utterly disagree on
everything that happened after the very beginning of the traffic stop,
Salazar-Limon didn’t utter the magic words “I didn’t reach for my
waistband” in his depositions and affidavits—and therefore no
disagreement exists.
It’s a controversial and pedantic way of thinking about the law, but
one at least some conservative Supreme Court justices have endorsed.
In
doing so, they’re essentially saying that cops are inherently
believable, while people that are shot by cops are not.
And Justice Sonia Sotomayor is having none of it. She believed the Supreme Court should have taken the case: In her
dissent from the denial of certiorari, she raged, and rightly so, about this state of affairs.
She dryly noted that the explanation of “he reached for his waistband” is a
depressingly well-worn one,
trotted out all too often to justify police shootings of this sort. She
saves her real ire, however, for discussing how this decision
flies in the face of how the American legal system is supposed to work:
This is not a difficult case. When a police officer
claims that the victim of the use of force took some act that would have
justified that force, and the victim claims he did not, summary
judgment is improper.
What Sotomayor is getting at is incredibly crucial:
Officers are no
more or less inherently believable than anyone else at this stage in a
lawsuit. A determination of credibility must go to a jury for them to
sort out who is telling the truth. To decide at this point that a police
officer’s word is better than that of the shooting victim—even though
the victim’s testimony is also made under oath—is to say that the police
essentially never lie (and that, of course, victims of police shootings
do).