An Unusual Decision Not to Publish - by Brian Toth
Earlier this year, Justice
Thomas, joined by Justice Scalia, dissented from the court’s decision not to
review a ruling by the Fourth Circuit reviving a habeas petitioner’s claim that
he was sentenced too harshly by a vindictive judge. The dissent in Plumley v. Austin was
notable mostly for its sharp criticism of the Fourth Circuit’s choice to label its
decision “unpublished”—that is, without precedential effect. The Fourth
Circuit’s decision was 40 pages long, rendered after oral argument, contained a
dissent, and, in Justice Thomas’s view, satisfied three criteria for publishing
decisions. “It is hard to imagine,” Justice Thomas wrote, “a reason that the
Court of Appeals would not have published this opinion except to avoid creating
binding law for the Circuit.”
Yesterday, the Eleventh Circuit
issued a decision in United States v. Rivero affirming a 30-year sentence for a 56-year-old defendant
who pleaded guilty to possession with an intent to distribute cocaine and marijuana.
Because Mr. Rivero qualified as a career offender, his advisory-guidelines
range was 188 to 235 months. The government recommended that Mr. Rivero be
sentenced toward to bottom of that range, but the district court, citing his
lengthy criminal history, sentenced him to 360 months in prison—the statutory
maximum. The Eleventh Circuit’s decision was rendered after oral argument and
over a forceful dissent by the panel’s only active judge, Judge Martin, who
addressed not just Mr. Rivero’s case but also the court’s precedents on
sentencing. The Eleventh Circuit’s decision in Rivero, like the Fourth
Circuit’s in Austin, was unpublished. Why?
In certain respects, the panel’s
choice not to publish Rivero seems sound, and might even, to some, be
preferable. Mr. Rivero’s first argument on appeal—was he a career offender?—was
foreclosed by precedent, and applying precedent to new cases rarely justifies
publication alone. And the majority disposed of Mr. Rivero’s challenge to the
reasonableness of his sentence by carefully hewing to the court’s precedents
and to its highly deferential standard of review. Plus, the decision doesn’t
create binding precedent for imposing on other defendants, in Judge Martin’s
words, “an extraordinary sentence for what seems to be an ordinary crime.” The court
metes out tough justice for Mr. Rivero, but only for Mr. Rivero.
But for those who closely follow
the Eleventh Circuit, that yesterday’s decision is unpublished may seem unusual.
The Eleventh Circuit takes special interest in sentencing, and nearly always
seems to publish decisions involving large variances (only death-penalty cases
get similar automatic-publication treatment). Further, because we want
similarly situated defendants to be sentenced similarly—and because,
presumably, we want the process in which they are sentenced to be
similar, too—publishing decisions involving sentencing is important. The court,
moreover, publishes many decisions where, as in Rivero, there has been
oral argument. And although it’s common for the Eleventh Circuit to dispose of
an appeal in an unpublished decision after oral argument where the result is
clear, it’s not common to do so where there has been a strong dissent by the
only active judge on the panel. And the facts of this case are compelling: Mr. Rivero,
a 56-year-old man, indeed has a long criminal history, but he was given a tough
sentence for, according to the majority, an “unremarkable” current offense. And
the government recommended a bottom-of-the-guidelines sentence as well. In
short, this is not your run-of-the-mill sentencing case.
Courts don’t say why they
publish their decisions; per the Eleventh Circuit’s internal operating
procedures, the choice is up to the majority of the panel. Thus, why Rivero
is unpublished is anybody’s guess. But I suspect that a principal reason was,
as Justice Thomas observed in Austin, “to avoid creating binding law for
the Circuit.” If so, then the question still remains, Why?
I don’t know and, to be clear,
I’m not criticizing the majority’s choice not to publish Rivero. But one
by-product of its decision seems clear: the likelihood of en banc review is greatly
reduced, for there is little reason for the full court to undertake the arduous
process of reviewing a decision that doesn’t bind it or lower courts. In
dissent, Judge Martin observed that she was “aware of no published opinion in
which we have held that an above-Guidelines sentence was substantively
unreasonable.” If Rivero had been published, her observation would
remain true. But it would also be true that the likelihood of en banc
review—and therefore the likelihood of a published opinion in which an
above-guidelines sentence was held to be substantively unreasonable—would have
been greater.