This post is used as source material for Prof. Blankenship’s courses.
Officer Theandra “T” Bose was proud to be a law enforcement officer in the State of Ohio. She was the first person in her family to graduate college and the first person to have a job with benefits. Officer Bose was proud of her accomplishments and she was also lonely. Working a full-time job and being a full-time college student didn’t leave a lot of time for friends, family, or socializing at all.
Officer Bose’s Police Department had adopted the Code of Ethics of the International Association of Chiefs of Police. After three years of experience, other Department policies allowed her to accept private security contract(s) for payment provided that it did not interfere with her scheduled work hours. She was still the lowest rank in her department and so she was in the lowest pay scale. Officer Bose’s first private security job was at a wedding. She needed the money.
Right before Officer Bose started with the Department, all but 10% of the senior officers retired in response to a new program implemented by the Department (in cooperation with the State Retirement Fund) to reduce costs. Even though the measure did reduce costs, inexperienced officers, like Office Bose, were often left with little guidance and had to figure things out for themselves.
Officer Bose worked the hours required to satisfy her private security contract without incident. Most of the wedding guests had left and as she was leaving, one of the guests invited her to stay for a post-wedding party. Officer Bose stayed for the post-wedding party. It was actually nicer than the wedding reception. The DJ moved to a small banquet room, two open bars were waiting and the food service was really good (better than the cucumber sandwiches at the wedding reception).
A guest ask Officer Bose if they could touch her badge. “Sure,” she said. “After all,” she thought, “the Department is always asking us to do things to help our public image.”
“Wow, your badge is heavier than I thought it would be,” the guest said. Then the guest started showing the badge to other guests and letting them feel how heavy it was.
At some point, Office Bose noticed a small group of people in the back with a powder that looked like cocaine. She looked around and found the person who invited her to the post-wedding party.
“Hey, is that what I think it is?” Office Bose asked.
In response, the guest offered Officer Bose a rolled-up dollar bill.
It took Officer Bose 30-45 minutes to track down her badge and leave.
After the party, a video circulated via TikTok of the wedding party showing a man holding a police badge. Text on the video suggested that “one or more people at the residence had sniffed cocaine off the back side” of Bose’s badge.
An internal investigation ensued against Officer Bose.
In Ohio, Cocaine is a Schedule II drug. Its possession, promotion, sale, distribution, manufacturing, and /or trafficking is a felony. Specifically, Ohio law provides that:
Possession of a Controlled Substance ( § 2925.11(C)(4) ORC)
Cocaine possession is a felony of the fifth degree in Ohio. If the defendant was found to have five grams of cocaine or more, it is a fourth-degree felony. Between 10 and 20 grams is a third-degree felony. Between 20 and 27 grams is a second-degree felony. Between 27 and 100 grams is a first-degree felony.
Trafficking and Selling Drugs ( § 2925.03 ORC)
Trafficking in cocaine is a felony of the fifth degree. If the offense was done in front of children or close to a school, or within 5 to 10 grams, it is a fourth-degree felony. Between 10 and 20 grams is a third-degree felony. Between 20 and 27 is a second-degree felony, and between 27 and 100 is a felony of the first-degree.
Illegal Manufacture of Drugs ( § 2925.04 ORC)
Illegally manufacturing a drug listed in Schedule II is a felony of the second degree in Ohio. The charge is increased to a felony of the first degree if it occurred in front of a juvenile or within the vicinity of a school.
Brandon L. Blankenship is an assistant professor, continuing legal education presenter, and business educator. He and his wife Donnalee live on their hobby farm south of Birmingham, Alabama.
I think I may have discovered the first regretitation mentioned in the history of Western Civilization.
As you may remember, in the Illiad, Alexandros (Paris) and his brother Hektor visit Sparta and are treated hospitably. When they leave, Alexandros takes Helen (Menelaus’s wife) back to Troy. Menelaus and his brother Agamemnon raise a 1,000-ship fleet and descend on Troy to take Helen back.
Agamemnon makes a proposal to save thousands of lives by letting Alexandro fight for Troy and Menelaus fight for Sparta. If Alexandros wins, he keeps Helen and all her possessions. If, however, Menelaus wins, Helen is returned
then let the Trojans give back Helen and all her possessions, and pay also a price to give the Argives (all those who traveled to Troy to fight) which will be fitting, which among people yet to come shall be as a standard.1
This regretitation is instructive because it recognizes an injustice beyond the mere taking of Helen. It seeks to restore not just Menelaus whose wife was taken. Not just the country of Sparta who was humiliated by her taking. But all of the soldiers who left their families and endured the sea-voyage (the Argives) to retrieve Helen.
To qualify as a regretitation, however, the intention informing the restitution must be restorative. Restitution is merely disgorging something from someone which was improperly taken or compensation for an injury done. Restorative intentions are multifaceted and, in part, seek to restore justice, properly ordered stakeholders and communities, global healing, and so forth. Unfortunately, it does not seem that that Agamemnon intended this offer to be restorative. I think he intended not just to restore the Argives. I think he intended to punish Troy with a regretitation so large it would be “fitting” for a nation, like Troy, who would give safe harbor to someone that took another person’s wife. It seems that Agamemnon intended the restitution to be large enough to humiliate Troy and therefore a “standard” to warn all future nations. The intentions informing restorative action may have a humiliating or punitive impact (even with the best intentions, we cannot control how they are received), but the intentions are overwhelmingly restorative.
Brandon L. Blankenship is an assistant professor, continuing legal education presenter, and business educator. He and his wife Donnalee live on their hobby farm south of Birmingham, Alabama.
This post is used as source material for Prof. Blankenship’s courses.
Officer Jay Shields wasn’t the first officer on the scene, but everyone yielded to him because it was obvious that he was going to find Angela Aguilar (known to her friends as “Gela”). Gela had been missing for 36 hours and surveillance video had just arrived that suggested that Kasheef Raheem was involved with her disappearance.
By all accounts, Raheem had been arrested numerous times, mostly for violent acts. He, however, had never been to prison. The video placed Raheem at the scene where it was believed that 12-year-old Gela was last seen getting out of a car. The car Gela had gotten out of had been processed and several DNA samples had been sent to the lab.
Stefani Germanotta was the lab tech that processed the samples. Before the final report was released, she called Officer Shields and told him that several samples placed Raheem in Gela’s car. Officer Shields was Gela’s juvenile probation officer.
As Officer Shields was preparing an arrest warrant for Raheem, he received a call on this cell phone.
“Hello,” Officer Shields answered. “Yes, is this the officer handling the Angela Aguilar disappearance?” The anonymous voice asked. “I am, who may I ask, is calling?” Officer Sheilds responded. “I am calling to tell you that Lab Tech Germanotta is lying. She used to be with Raheem and he ghosted her. When the report comes out — it will not put Raheem in the car.”
The call ended.
Officer Shields thought to himself, “Germanotta is obligated to follow the ethical rules of her department. It would not be in her best interest to lie to me. I’ve got to arrest and question this guy while Gela might still be alive.”
Brandon L. Blankenship is an assistant professor, continuing legal education presenter, and business educator. He and his wife Donnalee live on their hobby farm south of Birmingham, Alabama.
I have the power to believe whatever I want to believe. It is, perhaps, the only unalienable right. Neither life nor liberty is an unalienable right. There are powers, both legitimate and illegitimate, that can alienate me from life or liberty. No power, however, can take away my pursuit of happiness because it is a belief.
And at the end of every process based on evidence, empirically proven, and grounded in authority, a leap of faith is required to reach reality. That leap of faith is based on belief. Belief that I have absolute power over. I have the power to choose the belief and change it.
Why be disgusted or disrespected by someone voicing a different belief?
Why be threatened by someone voicing a different belief? Emotionally triggered?
The person voicing a different belief also has the power to choose their own belief.
Or change it.
Is the inability to listen to an opposing belief simply a lack of confidence in my personal power to accept or reject it – or accept or reject a part or parts of it? Maybe in those areas where I don’t listen to opposing beliefs, I am uncertain about my personal power.
Maybe in those areas where I don’t listen to opposing beliefs, I am unsure about my own belief. Perhaps rather than do the work of owning the belief I just leased it from someone else. In that case, I can’t listen to an opposing belief because I don’t know what parts of the opposing idea to accept or reject. I don’t know because I leased my belief from someone else – I really don’t know why I believe it. I just believe it because someone else – someone I trust – believes it.
Either way, why not choose to have the confidence to listen to opposing beliefs? I can listen to an hour-long lecture, seriously consider every point that was made, and wholly accept it or wholly reject it. Alternatively, I can accept some parts and reject others.
Brandon L. Blankenship is an assistant professor, continuing legal education presenter, and business educator. He and his wife Donnalee live on their hobby farm south of Birmingham, Alabama.
This post is used as source material for Prof. Blankenship’s courses.
In the quaint town of Mayfield, known for its tight-knit community, lived a meticulous court clerk named Hannah. Her reputation was sterling, her integrity indisputable. She handled all court matters with meticulous precision, and her impartiality and moral rectitude were beyond question.
One day, Hannah found herself assigned to a controversial case involving the town’s popular Mayor, who was accused of embezzling funds. The evidence was mounting, and the town was split between those who believed in the Mayor’s innocence and those convinced of his guilt.
Late one evening, after a long day of work, Hannah noticed a new notification on her phone. An unknown user had sent her a significant sum of money on a private Venmo. Later that day, Hannah received a text message that read: “For the Mayor’s case file to get lost in the shuffle.”
Hannah’s heart pounded in her chest as she read the message again. The money transferred was substantial, more than enough to pay all her debts and ensure the much-needed medical care for her ailing parents. The offer was clandestine, virtually untraceable, wrapped in the anonymity that technology often provides.
Hannah stared at her phone screen, her mind swirling in a storm of emotions. The notion of accepting the bribe was a clear breach of her ethical code, but the prospect of solving her personal predicaments was increasingly tempting. And there was the insidious thought that, if she took the money, it was likely that no one would ever find out.
The battle between her desperate personal circumstances and her moral compass raged on. Hannah, the meticulous court clerk, found herself at a crossroads. Faced with an ethical dilemma in the silence of her home, she held in her hands the power to dramatically alter the course of her life. Her decision hung in the balance, its outcome yet uncertain.
The next day, she walked into the court office with the envelope. She waited until the presiding judge, a stern but fair woman, was in her court chambers alone. With a shaky hand, Hannah presented the envelope and explained the situation.
The judge listened quietly, her face betraying no emotion. Once Hannah finished her account, the judge sighed, “Hannah, you did the right thing bringing this here. We must uphold the justice system, no matter who is involved. That said, Mayor is your friend, isn’t she? I know the Mayor is my friend. Don’t you have a shredder close to your desk?”
Hannah excused herself from the judge’s chambers.
That night, Hannah reviewed the Judicial Code of Ethics for her jurisdiction and confirmed that the judge had the same duty to maintain the integrity of the court – and court records – as she did.
Brandon L. Blankenship is an assistant professor, continuing legal education presenter, and business educator. He and his wife Donnalee live on their hobby farm south of Birmingham, Alabama.
This post is used as source material for Prof. Blankenship’s courses.
Naomy’s cousin, Theadore “Ted” Echols learned about corrections officers from an early age. His father was released from prison when Ted was five years old. Ted listened to his father’s stories about “corruption” officers, what they did day-after-day to inmates and how the officers themselves ended up in prison. Ted doesn’t remember the day he made the committment, but for as long as he can remember he has been committed to being a corrections officer, an honorable one.
Hector had a hard life. By the time he was 24-years-old, he had been arrested over 30 times and spent over half of his life in the County Jail. Hector was known on the street and in the criminal justice system as an honest criminal. His crime of choice was drugs. In Hector’s mind, there’s nothing wrong with selling something to people who wanted to buy it at a fair price. In spite of the fact that Hector was a successful drug dealer, he had never been arrested for a drug crime. All of his arrests came from violence.
Right after his 25th birthday, Hector got into an argument with another drug dealer who was trying to recruit Hector’s “salespeople” away from him. When the argument didn’t go Hector’s way, he pulled a gun and killed the competitor. The shooting was mid-day on a city street and captured on several video cameras.
After a jury trial, Hector was convicted of murder and sentenced to life in prison.
For the first few years in prison, Hector’s life in prison and his life outside of prison looked pretty similar. He was violent and sold drugs on the outside of prison, he was violent and sold drugs on the inside of prison. Strangely, Hector was respected by both other inmates and corrections officers. Even though it was known that he was a drug dealer, it was also known that if he told you something he was good to his word.
One day, Hector was talking with a corrections officer, Ted Echols. Officer Echols told Hector about some new classes that were going to be offered by the prison in Vipassana Meditation. Officer Echols had watched a few YouTube videos about it and was telling Hector what he had learned. As Hector turned away to line up for his work duty, Officer Echols laughed and said, “You should try it Hector – you might find some inner peace.”
That night, Hector couldn’t sleep. He didn’t like that fact that not only did he not have “inner peace,” he wasn’t really sure what it even was. Plus, this Vip – ass – a – naa would be a distraction from his work detail. He decided to try it.
Months later, Hector was a different person. He talked through most problems that came up rather than using his fists. Every time he had a chance to take more classes, he did. Eventually, he earned his Graduation Education Diploma, or “GED.” He was the first person in his family to graduate, well, anything.
Hector wrote his mother and told her that there would be a small graduation service and he sure would like it if she would come. She wrote back,
Dear Hector,
I am so proud of you. I know your Granny wud be to if she was livin.
I checked on the bus ticket and it is $68 for me to com.
I love you, but I just ain’t got it. I will be thinkin bout you on that day.
Momma
Hector was dissapointed but he understood. He talked with Officer Echols about how just a few years earlier it would have made him so angry he would have hurt somebody. Now, he was different.
Several weeks went by and the graduation came. When Hector walked in the training room for graduation, his eyes filled with tears and he had to catch his breath to stop from openly sobbing and embarrassing himself. His mother was sitting on the front row. Officer Echols, who had paid for her bus ticket, was standing at the back of the room.
Brandon L. Blankenship is an assistant professor, continuing legal education presenter, and business educator. He and his wife Donnalee live on their hobby farm south of Birmingham, Alabama.
