PUBLISHER'S NOTE:This Blog is interested in false confessions because of the disturbing number of exonerations in the USA, Canada and multiple other jurisdictions throughout the world, where, in the absence of incriminating forensic evidence the conviction is based on self-incrimination – and because of the growing body of scientific research showing how vulnerable suspects (especially juveniles) are to widely used interrogation methods such as the notorious ‘Reid Technique.’
Harold
Levy: Publisher: The Charles Smith Blog.
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SUB-HEADING: "Netflix billed the show as a true-crime binge-watch – but its narrative arc is the opposite of cathartic."
GIST" Would you confess to a crime you hadn’t committed? For some days now,
I’ve been asking myself this question. Furious and punchy, my gut tells
me immediately that I wouldn’t, not in a million years. But then comes a
quieter, less certain voice. Isn’t guilt, for some of us, a
near-permanent state? Apt to apologise even when I’m not in the wrong, I
cannot believe I’m the only woman alive who tortures herself in the
small hours by thinking she has unknowingly done something very bad
indeed. All this was provoked by The Confession Tapes, billed on
social media as “our” next Netflix true-crime binge-watch. In this
instance, however, the breathless excitement is misplaced:
binge-watching would seem to me to amount to a form of self-harm. Yes,
it’s compulsive. Stoked by bloody police photographs, the atmosphere can
be suspenseful to a queasy-making degree. But like Making a Murderer and The Keepers before
it, its prime concern is not with crimes committed so much as with the
American justice system, for which reason its narrative arc is the
opposite of cathartic. At best, it will leave you feeling uneasy. At worst, you may find yourself sinking down into something akin to despair. Director Kelly Loudenberg tells six stories over the course of seven
episodes. Each involves a brutal murder (or murders) for which a
perpetrator (or perpetrators) has (have) since been safely (unsafely)
convicted. All are linked by one factor: the conviction was secured
primarily thanks to a confession extracted by the police under extreme
circumstances. Lawyers were not present; mind games were played;
interviewees were exhausted, unstable, traumatised. In one instance, the
authorities took what’s known as the “Mr Big” approach: undercover
officers, playing their roles with all the gusto of a local am-dram
society, pretended to be gangsters whose criminal networks could save
the accused from death row if only they (the accused) would provide them
with all the facts. Why did juries believe these confessions, unaccompanied as they were by
forensic evidence? Here, we go back to where we began. “No,” they told
themselves. “I would not admit to a crime I had not committed.” Either
such citizens have no softer inner voice – or, more likely, the idea of
listening to it is simply too terrifying."
The entire commentary can be found at:
PUBLISHER'S NOTE: I am monitoring this case/issue. Keep your eye on the Charles Smith Blog for reports on developments. The Toronto Star, my previous employer for more than twenty incredible years, has put considerable effort into exposing the harm caused by Dr. Charles Smith and his protectors - and into pushing for reform of Ontario's forensic pediatric pathology system. The Star has a "topic" section which focuses on recent stories related to Dr. Charles Smith. It can be found at: http://www.thestar.com/topic/c
