Why be extra-cautious when interviewing a juvenile? They're more prone to being pressured by an authority figure.
New requirement: juvenile confessions must be electronically recorded. If it's custodial interrogation, anyway.
And now the legislature has codified this: the remedy for failure to record juveniles is suppression of the confession. There are good-faith exceptions.
This isn't a requirement that interrogators change techniques, but additional transparency might discourage some tactics.
This decision rests on the Supreme Court's supervisory powers: they're setting forth a rule of court procedure. They're saying "you can interrogate juveniles however you want, but don't expect the products to be admissible in court unless you comply with these rules."
So if you've got a lesser-involved juvenile, you can violate these policies to get that person to implicate the more-involved juvenile, and that person won't have standing to challenge the procedures used.
Reid techniques are pretty much the standard. There are a number of techniques that are relatively easy to master: false friend, etc.
Rockwell: the painting of the cop leaning over a child with an ice-cream cone who has wandered into the street, to coax him back out of the street. Police as helpful community caretakers, to whom you can turn for orderly intervention when you're in need.
Orwell: not as nice. Whisking people away unexpectedly, openly armed, in combat gear.
In some areas, people grow up experiencing the police essentially as an occupying force. But those aren't the areas where judges come from, by and large. But our experiences with the police color our opinions about what it would take to overcome a free will.
Rodgers v. Richmond (SCOTUS, 1961): the truthfulness of a confession is not to be considered in deciding whether the confession was coerced. That's the rule, but it's hard to ignore the truth of the statement: who wants to suppress a confession from an actually guilty party? And the judge who hears the suppression hearing might be the fact-finder at trial (see, esp. juvenile courts).
But then we get 14A. This has a due process clause, and an equal protection clause (that 5A lacks). So now SCOTUS has to consider what "due process" means as to the states' governments? Does that include the same limitations on state power that are imposed by the constitution on federal power? Well, structurally, it would seem not. So what components of federal due process are to be applied to the states?
This gets decided more or less on a case-by-case basis. The 5A grand jury clause isn't necessary for state due process (i.e., you can have charges by criminal complaint). Brown v. MS incorporates a protection against outrageous police conduct that coerces statements (this pre-dates, by the way, the announcement that federal LEOs couldn't do the same).
Hugo Black (Adamson v. CA, 1947, dissent) argues for total incorporation. But that position hasn't prevailed.
And the most recent is McDonald v. City of Chicago (2A rights applied to the states). The petitioner's argument in that case directly invited the court to reconsider the Slaughterhouse cases (i.e., "privileges and immunities" as protecting other things besides race). All modern scholars seem to agree that those cases were wrongly decided and the "privileges and immunities" clause is supposed to be something stronger than that, but the court declined to rule that way, and went with due process instead.
So long as a confession is voluntary, it goes to the jury to weigh the credibility of it. But the average person on the street is unaware of the problems of false confessions; they can't imagine confessing to something they didn't do. The "fundamental attribution" error (term from psychology): people focus on one thing, ignoring situational context.
Side point: consider the word "confession:" it's a heavily religiously weighted concept. It's supposed to be a good thing. Really what we mean in a legal context is an "inculpatory statement." "Confession" suggests more than just admission that you did something; it's supposed to be a step towards atonement.
So why is it so hard for a defense attorney to argue that the confession shouldn't be given weight? Why not call a psychologist as an expert witness and have that person explain the phenomena of suggestion and coercion and stuff? Fees and time, for one thing; SPD is unlikely to spring for this. Plus, it looks self-serving, and confirms peoples' feelings about criminal defense attorneys.
At the same time, the defense bar is often cowed by the existence of a confession. They'll maybe lean towards making a deal.
Defendant's dilemma: if you fail to testify, people assume you're guilty, but if you do testify, they assume you're lying. You have to decide which is worse for you.
Anyway, Mincey. What is the difference between psychological and physical coercion? Sort of an interesting blend of them here.
Also remember that due process is a limitation on the government's power: you can be coerced into confessing by all sorts of other things, just not the state. The truthfulness of a confession is for a jury; it's separate from its voluntariness, which is a due process matter-- does the jury get to hear the confession at all?
There's correlation between geography and false confession, and also with the type of crime (rape and murder have the highest rates, apparently).
General rule: as long as a threat by the police is true (e.g., about where charging will take place, or whether children will be taken by child protective services), it is allowed.
Maybe we should be looking at the reliability of a confession rather than the voluntariness? Here are proposed indicia of reliability:
But this might lead to true confessions being thrown out just because it's vague on some points. And now we'd have to worry about what details people have seen in the media, or have been fed by the interrogators.
False confessions have two costs: imprisoning the innocent and also letting the guilty go free. And sexual offences, in particular, have a high rate of recidivism. So failing to get the right guy might be putting others at risk.
The innocent person's dilemma at sentencing: if you don't say you did it, you get the more severe sentence.