Amicus Curiae Brief — Carlos Vega, Petitioner v. Terence B. Tekoh
Supreme Court briefApr 6, 2022
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No. 21-499
IN THE
Supreme Court of the United States
CARLOS VEGA,
Petitioner,
v.
TERRENCE B. TEKOH,
Respondent.
On Writ of Certiorari to the United States
Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit
BRIEF OF CONSTITUTIONAL ACCOUNTABILITY
CENTER AS AMICUS CURIAE IN
SUPPORT OF RESPONDENT
ELIZABETH B. WYDRA
BRIANNE J. GOROD*
BRIAN R. FRAZELLE
CONSTITUTIONAL
ACCOUNTABILITY CENTER
1200 18th Street NW, Suite 501
Washington, D.C. 20036
(202) 296-6889
brianne@theusconstitution.org
Counsel for Amicus Curiae
April 6, 2022
* Counsel of Record
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Page
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES .................................
ii
INTEREST OF AMICUS CURIAE ......................
1
INTRODUCTION AND SUMMARY
OF ARGUMENT................................................
1
ARGUMENT .........................................................
7
I.
At the Framing, the Right Against SelfIncrimination Directly Prohibited
Interrogation Practices that Were
Deemed Inherently Coercive.......................
7
A. Development of the Right in England ...
7
B. Reception of the Right in America ........
16
II. The Framers Adopted the SelfIncrimination Clause to Prevent
Innovations that Would Undermine the
Common Law’s Protection from Coercive
Interrogation Practices ...............................
20
CONCLUSION .....................................................
29
(i)
ii
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES
Page(s)
Cases
Bram v. United States,
168 U.S. 532 (1897) ............................
14
Butler v. McKellar,
494 U.S. 407 (1990) ............................
5
Chavez v. Martinez,
538 U.S. 760 (2003) ............................
27
Counselman v. Hitchcock,
142 U.S. 547 (1892) ............................
28
Dickerson v. United States,
530 U.S. 428 (2000) ............................
4, 6
Kyllo v. United States,
533 U.S. 27 (2001) ..............................
29
Lilburne’s Case,
4 Howell’s State Trials 1269 (1641) ..
10
Marbury v. Madison,
5 U.S. 137 (1803) ................................
15
Miranda v. Arizona,
384 U.S. 436 (1966) ............................
passim
Missouri v. Seibert,
542 U.S. 600 (2004) ............................
6
Moran v. Burbine,
475 U.S. 412 (1986) ............................
5
iii
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES – cont’d
Page(s)
Murphy v. Waterfront Comm’n of N.Y.
Harbor,
378 U.S. 52 (1964) ..............................
8
Ohio v. Clark,
576 U.S. 237 (2015) ............................
27
Trial of Charles White,
17 Howell’s State Trials 1079 (1741)
14
Wilkes v. Wood,
98 Eng. Rep. 489 (C.P. 1763) .............
15
United States v. Burr,
25 F. Cas. 38 (C.C.D. Va. 1807) .........
15
United States v. Hubbell,
530 U.S. 27 (2000) ..............................
27, 28
Statutes and Constitutional Provisions
2 & 3 Phil. & M. ch. 10 (1555)...............
11
42 U.S.C. § 1983 ....................................
2
Mass. Const. of 1780, art. XII ...............
25
Mass. Body of Liberties, art. 45 (1641).
18
U.S. Const. amend. V ............................
2, 6, 26
U.S. Const. art. I, § 6 .............................
28
Va. Decl. of Rights § 8 (1776) ...............
24
iv
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES – cont’d
Page(s)
Books, Articles, and Other Authorities
Albert W. Alschuler, A Peculiar Privilege
in Historical Perspective: The Right to
Remain Silent, 94 Mich. L. Rev. 2625
(1996) ..................................................
passim
Theodore Barlow, The Justice of Peace:
A Treatise Containing the Power and
Duty of that Magistrate (1745) ..........
12
Laurence A. Benner, Requiem for Miranda:
The Rehnquist Court’s Voluntariness
Doctrine in Historical Perspective,
67 Wash. U. L. Q. 59 (1989) ...............
passim
1 William Blackstone, Commentaries on
the Laws of England (1791 ed.) .........
12
3 William Blackstone, Commentaries on
the Laws of England (1766 ed.) .........
16
4 William Blackstone, Commentaries on
the Laws of England (1791 ed.) .........
12, 15
William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation
1620–1647 (Samuel E. Morison ed.,
1952) (1651) ........................................
18
1 Richard Burn, The Justice of the Peace
and Parish Officer (1810 ed.) ...............
27
Charges Against Governor Nicholson,
reprinted in 3 Va. Mag. Hist. & Bio.,
Apr. 1896 ..............................................
22
v
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES – cont’d
Page(s)
1 Joseph Chitty, A Practical Treatise
on the Criminal Law (1819 ed.) ... 12, 13, 14, 15
Continental Congress, To the Inhabitants
of the Province of Quebec (Oct. 1774), in
1 Journals of the Continental Congress
(1904) .................................................
21
Edward S. Corwin, The Supreme Court’s
Construction of the Self-Incrimination
Clause, 29 Mich. L. Rev. 1 (1930) ..... 7, 9, 10, 14
Michael Dalton, The Country Justice
(1690 ed.) ............................................
13
Thomas Y. Davies, Farther and Farther
from the Original Fifth Amendment:
The Recharacterization of the Right
Against Self-Incrimination as a Trial
Right in Chavez v. Martinez, 70 Tenn.
L. Rev. 987 (2003) .............................
passim
2 The Debates in the Several State
Conventions on the Adoption of the
Federal Constitution (Jonathan Elliot
ed., 1836) ...........................................
25
3 The Debates in the Several State
Conventions on the Adoption of the
Federal Constitution (Jonathan Elliot
ed., 1836) ...........................................
25
2 Matthew Hale, The History of the Pleas
of the Crown (1736 ed.) ..................... 14, 24, 27
vi
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES – cont’d
Page(s)
2 William Hawkins, A Treatise of the
Pleas of the Crown (1762 ed.) ...........
27
William Waller Hening, The New Virginia
Justice (1795) ....................................
15
Samuel Johnson, A Dictionary of the
English Language (6th ed. 1785)......
28
Paul G. Kauper, Judicial Examination
of the Accused—A Remedy for the
Third Degree, 30 Mich. L. Rev. 1224
(1932) ............................................. 11, 12, 14, 17
John H. Langbein, The Historical
Origins of the Privilege Against
Self-Incrimination at Common Law,
92 Mich. L. Rev. 1047 (1994) ............
passim
Leonard W. Levy, Origins of the Fifth
Amendment: The Right Against
Self-Incrimination (1968) .................
passim
E.M. Morgan, The Privilege Against
Self-Incrimination, 34 Minn. L.
Rev. 1 (1949) ................................... 9, 13, 14, 28
Eben Moglen, Taking the Fifth:
Reconsidering the Origins of the
Constitutional Privilege Against
Self-Incrimination, 92 Mich. L. Rev.
1086 (1994) ........................................
passim
vii
TABLE OF AUTHORITIES – cont’d
Page(s)
Wesley MacNeil Oliver, Magistrates’
Examinations, Police Interrogations,
and Miranda-Like Warnings in the
Nineteenth Century, 81 Tul. L. Rev.
777 (2007) ..........................................
15
James Parker, Conductor Generalis: or the
Office, Duty and Authority of Justices of
the Peace (1764) .................................
27
R. Carter Pittman, Colonial and
Constitutional History of the Privilege
Against Self-Incrimination in America,
21 Va. L. Rev. 763, 774 (1934-1935) .
passim
The Revolution in New-England Justified
(1773 ed.) (1691) ................................
22
3 William O. Russell, Treatise on Crimes
and Misdemeanors (1896 ed.) ...........
14
2 Statutes at Large: Being a Collection
of All the Laws of Virginia (William
W. Hening ed., 1823) .........................
19
Carol S. Steiker, Second Thoughts About
First Principles, 107 Harv. L. Rev. 820
(1994) .................................................
5
3 Joseph Story, Commentaries on the
Constitution (1833)............................
26
1
INTEREST OF AMICUS CURIAE1
Constitutional Accountability Center (CAC) is a
think tank, public interest law firm, and action center
dedicated to fulfilling the progressive promise of the
Constitution’s text and history. CAC works in our
courts, through our government, and with legal scholars to improve understanding of the Constitution and
preserve the rights and freedoms it guarantees. CAC
has a strong interest in ensuring that the Constitution
applies as robustly as its text and history require and
accordingly has an interest in this case.
INTRODUCTION AND
SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT
Officer Carlos Vega took Terrence Tekoh into a
small windowless room and questioned him about a reported crime. By the time they emerged, Vega had obtained a confession that was used against Tekoh in his
criminal trial. While Vega and Tekoh dispute what
happened in that room, they agree that Vega never
warned Tekoh of his right to an attorney or to refrain
from speaking, or that his statements could be used
against him—all contrary to this Court’s decision in
Miranda v. Arizona, 384 U.S. 436 (1966).
By employing a custodial interrogation to extract
a confession from Tekoh that was then used against
him, Vega participated in the deprivation of Tekoh’s
Fifth Amendment rights. His arguments to the
1 The parties have consented to the filing of this brief.
Under
Rule 37.6 of the Rules of this Court, amicus states that no counsel
for a party authored this brief in whole or in part, and no counsel
or party made a monetary contribution intended to fund the preparation or submission of this brief. No person other than amicus
or its counsel made a monetary contribution to its preparation or
submission.
2
contrary rest largely on the premise that the Amendment creates only a rule of evidence, not a direct limit
on the interrogation of detained suspects. That premise is at odds with the Amendment’s text and history.
1. Because Vega obtained incriminating testimony from Tekoh without alleviating the “inherently
compelling pressures” of an in-custody police interrogation, id. at 467, and because that testimony was
used in Tekoh’s prosecution, Tekoh was “compelled in
[a] criminal case to be a witness against himself,” U.S.
Const. amend. V. He was therefore deprived of a
“right[]” and “privilege[] . . . secured by the Constitution.” 42 U.S.C. § 1983.
Denying Vega’s liability, Vega and the United
States rely on two flawed assumptions. The first is
that the Fifth Amendment’s Self-Incrimination Clause
“operates in the courtroom, not the interrogation
room,” providing only a “rule of evidence,” U.S. Br. 4,
rather than “imposing a direct constraint on officers,”
Pet. Br. 18. The second assumption is that Miranda
goes further than the Fifth Amendment requires, suggesting that even a violation of Miranda at trial “does
not mean that the defendant’s Fifth Amendment
rights have been violated.” Id. at 20.
These arguments—like most arguments for limiting Miranda—are long on pronouncements about the
Fifth Amendment but short on analysis of its text and
history. The United States spends a single paragraph
on the Amendment’s text, relying exclusively on two
decisions that do not even mention the Fifth Amendment. U.S. Br. 7. Vega does even less. Pet. Br. 18.
Neither says a word about the Amendment’s history.
The text and history of the Self-Incrimination
Clause belie the assumptions made by Vega and the
government. From its inception through the Framing
3
era, the common law right against self-incrimination
functioned as a direct limit on how officials questioned
suspected wrongdoers in their custody. Far from supplying only an “in-court right,” U.S. Br. 4, the common
law right served primarily to restrain officials from using improper methods of interrogation to secure confessions before trial. It was thus recognized as a critical check on the government’s power to intrude on liberty when investigating crime.
Furthermore, the right against self-incrimination
always prohibited, as a categorical matter, conditions
of interrogation that were understood to be inherently
coercive. Those conditions included not only physical
abuse but also, notably, placing suspects under oath
before requiring them to answer questions. Just as
Miranda recognized the inherently coercive pressures
of a modern custodial police interrogation, the common
law reached the same conclusion about interrogation
under oath (among other practices), which was seen as
placing an intolerable threat of spiritual and secular
penalties on the person questioned. It did not matter
whether any particular individual actually felt psychologically compelled to confess by being put under oath.
Instead, the practice was categorically forbidden as
intrinsically coercive, “even if there was no actual coercion in real life.” Pet. Br. 21.
This understanding of the right against self-incrimination was the same in England and America. As
the American Revolution neared, one of the colonists’
main grievances was the use of inquisitions in “prerogative” courts to secure confessions for violating revenue laws. Resisting that practice, Americans came to
highlight the right against self-incrimination as a cornerstone of the common law protections for individual
liberty, which they demanded on equal terms with the
English. When the colonists separated from Britain
4
and established state declarations of rights—and later
when the Framers adopted the Bill of Rights to restrain the new federal government—they enshrined
this right in order to foreclose legislative innovations
that would impinge on the common law guarantee
they had come to cherish.
2. The most significant innovation affecting selfincrimination rights since the Framing has been “the
advent of modern custodial police interrogation.”
United States v. Dickerson, 530 U.S. 428, 434 (2000).
Today, armed law enforcement officers with a professional mandate to investigate crime, with broad powers of detention, and with career incentives to secure
confessions, are allowed to interrogate suspects in secret, away from public view, before those suspects are
charged with an offense and when no crime may even
have occurred.
That scenario would have been unrecognizable to
the Framers. In their era, professional investigative
police forces did not exist. Peace officers, who served
part-time and with limited powers of arrest, could not
interrogate detainees. Instead, questioning before
trial was limited to a single, well-defined process mandated by statute, in which witnesses and the accused
were examined by a justice of the peace. Those examinations were triggered only by a grand jury indictment or by the sworn allegations of an accuser who
was legally accountable for unfounded claims.
During such examinations, moreover, the common
law prohibited modes of interrogation that were understood to be inherently coercive. As noted, that included both physical compulsion and the placing of
suspects under oath. By the Framing era, the common
law also recognized that offering promises or threats
of any kind to an arrestee tainted any resulting confession. That rule similarly operated as a categorical
5
presumption that confessions given under particular
circumstances were compelled. It was against this
backdrop that the Framers inscribed the common law
right against self-incrimination into the Constitution,
securing it against future innovations.
3. In the latter half of the nineteenth century, law
enforcement underwent a gradual but sweeping transformation with the rise of professional police forces, see
Carol S. Steiker, Second Thoughts About First Principles, 107 Harv. L. Rev. 820, 831-38 (1994), whose
stationhouse interrogations replaced the preliminary
examinations once conducted by magistrates under
the common law. Miranda was a belated application
of the Fifth Amendment to the new phenomenon of
“in-custody interrogation.” 384 U.S. at 441. It “recognized that custodial interrogations, by their very nature, generate ‘compelling pressures which work to undermine the individual’s will to resist and to compel
him to speak where he would not otherwise do so
freely.’” Moran v. Burbine, 475 U.S. 412, 420 (1986)
(quoting Miranda, 384 U.S. at 467).
“To combat this inherent compulsion, . . . Miranda
imposed on the police an obligation to follow certain
procedures,” id., prescribing “concrete constitutional
guidelines for law enforcement agencies . . . to follow,”
Miranda, 384 U.S. at 441-42. The decision requires
officers to give specific warnings to suspects about
their rights, id. at 444-45, and, beyond this “duty to
inform,” obligates them to “respect the accused’s decision to exercise the rights outlined in the warnings,”
Moran, 475 U.S. at 420; see Butler v. McKellar, 494
U.S. 407, 411 (1990) (“the Fifth Amendment bars police-initiated interrogation following a suspect’s request for counsel”).
Miranda’s requirements for custodial police interrogation were novel because “the routine practice of
6
such interrogation is itself a relatively new development.” Dickerson, 530 U.S. at 435 n.1. But those requirements go no further than the Fifth Amendment
demands. The point of Miranda’s “constitutional requirement” is to create “circumstances allowing for a
real choice between talking and remaining silent.”
Missouri v. Seibert, 542 U.S. 600, 604, 609 (2004). In
other words, giving Miranda warnings and respecting
the rights they describe negates the “inherently compelling pressures” of custodial interrogation, Miranda,
384 U.S. at 467, such that any incriminating statements that follow are not “compelled,” U.S. Const.
amend. V.
That Miranda’s rules can be characterized as
“prophylactic,” Pet. Br. 20, does not mean they are not
required by the Fifth Amendment. Miranda recognized that “the Constitution does not require any specific code of procedures for protecting the privilege
against self-incrimination during custodial interrogation,” and that its warnings are just one means of negating the inherent coercion of such interrogation. 384
U.S. at 490. Other safeguards are permissible, “so long
as they are fully as effective.” Id. But without Miranda warnings or “an adequate substitute,” Dickerson, 530 U.S. at 442, there has been no “solution for
the inherent compulsions of the interrogation process,”
Miranda, 384 U.S. at 467.
The text and history of the Self-Incrimination
Clause support that result. The Fifth Amendment
sought to secure, against future incursions, the common law protection from self-incrimination as the
Framers understood it. That protection operated before trial and directly prohibited interrogation methods that were deemed inherently coercive. Nothing in
the text of the Clause reduces it to a “rule of evidence,”
U.S. Br. 4, applicable only in court.
7
ARGUMENT
I.
At the Framing, the Right Against SelfIncrimination Directly Prohibited
Interrogation Practices that Were Deemed
Inherently Coercive.
A. Development of the Right in England
Tracing to the Middle Ages, protection from selfincrimination “sprung from the essential nature of accusatory Anglo-Saxon criminal procedure,” Laurence
A. Benner, Requiem for Miranda: The Rehnquist
Court’s Voluntariness Doctrine in Historical Perspective, 67 Wash. U. L. Q. 59, 61 (1989), “which centers in
the grand jury,” unlike “the inquisitorial method of the
canon law, in which accusation might be by rumor,”
Edward S. Corwin, The Supreme Court’s Construction
of the Self-Incrimination Clause, 29 Mich. L. Rev. 1, 8
(1930). “The original formulation of the privilege was
embodied in the expression nemo tenetur prodere seipsum,” that is, “no one is bound to bring forth (i.e. accuse) himself.” Benner, supra, at 64 n.11, 74 n.50.
Protection from self-incrimination reflected common law limits on the prosecution of crime. “Central
to the Anglo-Saxon system of that time was the necessity of a precise and properly substantiated accusation,” and criminal proceedings were initiated only by
a complaint sworn under oath or by the indictment of
“an accusing jury.” Id. at 71. In contrast, under canon
law “a secret informant or the judge could institute a
proceeding in ecclesiastical courts based upon suspicion.” Id. “The hallmark of that inquisitional procedure was that persons were interrogated under oath to
learn information which could then be used as a basis
for a criminal prosecution.” Thomas Y. Davies, Farther and Farther from the Original Fifth Amendment:
The Recharacterization of the Right Against Self-
8
Incrimination as a Trial Right in Chavez v. Martinez,
70 Tenn. L. Rev. 987, 1001 (2003).
From its inception, therefore, the right against
self-incrimination regulated how officials built their
cases against individuals who fell under suspicion—
promoting “an accusatorial rather than an inquisitorial system of criminal justice” by requiring “the government to leave the individual alone until good cause
is shown for disturbing him.” Murphy v. Waterfront
Comm’n of N.Y. Harbor, 378 U.S. 52, 55 (1964) (quotation marks omitted). It shielded people “from any interrogation at all in the absence of a formal charge
based upon sufficient cause,” as reflected in either
“oath or indictment.” Benner, supra, at 64. The protection thus governed “the initiation of criminal proceedings,” Albert W. Alschuler, A Peculiar Privilege in
Historical Perspective: The Right to Remain Silent, 94
Mich. L. Rev. 2625, 2640 (1996), by restricting methods of seeking evidence from suspected wrongdoers.
Officials could not “commence prosecutions by . . . conducting fishing expeditions, or by questioning on . . .
slender suspicion.” Id. at 2641.
This safeguard took on a prominent role and became “an established principle of justice” in the first
half of the seventeenth century. Benner, supra, at 61.
Increasingly, “the common-law courts issued writs of
prohibition to prevent inquisitional interrogation . . .
in the ecclesiastical courts.” Davies, supra, at 1001.
And they did so to stop interrogations during the preliminary stages of a prosecution under conditions that
were regarded as inherently coercive.
The common law’s resistance to ecclesiastical interrogations “focused upon the use of the oath ex officio.” Benner, supra, at 69. This oath was administered to someone “whom rumor had brought under
suspicion,” Corwin, supra, at 5, and who was ordered,
9
on pain of penalty, to “swear an oath to answer any
questions that the court might subsequently put to
him,” John H. Langbein, The Historical Origins of the
Privilege Against Self-Incrimination at Common Law,
92 Mich. L. Rev. 1047, 1073 (1994). Thus, the right
enforced by the common law courts did not concern
“persons under accusation by a proper mode of procedure,” but rather “the preliminary question of what
were the necessary incidents of such a procedure.”
Corwin, supra, at 8; see E.M. Morgan, The Privilege
Against Self-Incrimination, 34 Minn. L. Rev. 1, 2
(1949). The purpose of the right was to restrain interrogations that could lead to a formal accusation.
This right “became even more prominent as a response to the abuses associated with pretrial . . . interrogation in the Court of Star Chamber and, especially,
in the Court of High Commission,” where common law
protections were withheld. Davies, supra, at 1001.
Queen Elizabeth established the Court of High Commission to enforce religious conformity, and it “quickly
adopted inquisitorial procedures. Upon mere rumor of
heresy, the Commission would bring the suspect before it, force him to take the oath ex officio and then
subject him to interrogation without giving him any
details of the charge or the identity of his accuser.”
Benner, supra, at 74-75.
As the targets of these efforts “seized upon th[e]
concept of immunity from self-accusation,” Langbein,
supra, at 1073, the “common law courts restricted the
power of the High Commission to ask incriminating
questions of suspected religious dissenters,” Alschuler,
supra, at 2638-39. These courts did not ask whether
specific individuals actually felt coerced by such interrogations. Instead, protection from self-incrimination
became entrenched as an unconditional “right not to
10
be interrogated under oath in the absence of wellgrounded suspicion.” Id. at 2640.
This emphasis on prohibiting improper interrogations was evident in the high-profile trials of John Lilburne, who, “more than any other individual . . . was
responsible for the acceptance of the principle that no
person should be compelled to be a witness against
himself in criminal cases.” Leonard W. Levy, Origins
of the Fifth Amendment: The Right Against Self-Incrimination 313 (1968). Hauled before the Star Chamber in 1637 and ordered to take the oath ex officio without “a bill of complaint specifying the charges against
him” or “an opportunity to consult with counsel,” Benner, supra, at 78, Lilburne refused to be “ensnared” by
taking the oath, Corwin, supra, at 8. When he was
later tried for treason, Lilburne lodged the same objection at his arraignment—i.e., before trial—where he
proclaimed that “by the Laws of England, I am not to
answer to questions against or concerning myself.”
Lilburne’s Case, 4 Howell’s State Trials 1269, 1293
(1641). The presiding judge responded, “You shall not
be compelled,” id., thereby “acknowledging the right to
remain silent to incriminating interrogatories,” Levy,
supra, at 304.
Lilburne’s persecution “helped to spark a public
outcry against the oath ex officio that ultimately led to
the prohibition of the oath and the abolition of both the
High Commission and the Court of Star Chamber.”
Benner, supra, at 79. Following these events, which
were “among the most celebrated landmarks of English political and legal history,” the courts “came to internalize a privilege against self-incrimination” in routine criminal proceedings. Langbein, supra, at 1074.
Initially, conventional practice stood in tension
with that development. Id. at 1084. Pretrial questioning of criminal defendants had long been dictated by
11
the so-called Marian committal statute. See 2 & 3 Phil.
& M. ch. 10 (1555). Eventually regarded as antithetical to the common law, see infra at 15, this statute
provided that justices of the peace, before jailing a
prisoner charged with a felony, “should take the examination of such prisoner and the information of those
who brought him.” Paul G. Kauper, Judicial Examination of the Accused—A Remedy for the Third Degree,
30 Mich. L. Rev. 1224, 1232 (1932). The record of those
examinations could later be read at trial.
In the eighteenth century, however, “the rule
against self-incrimination was . . . carried over to the
preliminary examination,” resulting in “a gradual
abandonment of judicial interrogation of the accused.”
Id. at 1233. And even before those changes took root,
preliminary examination under the Marian statute
had important protections against the compulsion of
self-incriminating statements.
First, the accusatory structure of criminal law in
that era imposed high demands before a person was
subject to examination. Pretrial interrogation required an arrest, which in turn required “a sworn allegation by a named complainant that he had personal
knowledge that a crime had actually been committed,
not just probable cause that a crime might have been
committed.” Davies, supra, at 1004. Thus, no one
could be arrested—or interrogated—based merely on
suspicion or unsworn allegations. And groundless accusations would leave complainants liable to trespass
damages. Id. at 1005.
Together, these restrictions demanded “strong evidence of crime prior to the activation of government
criminal justice power,” id. at 1002, rather than allowing government power to be used to coerce that evidence from a suspect. Blackstone thus called it an established “rule of the common law” that “no man shall
12
be bound to accuse himself,” 1 William Blackstone,
Commentaries on the Laws of England 67-68 (1791
ed.), and that “his fault was not to be wrung out of himself, but rather to be discovered by other means, and
other men,” 4 id. at 296.
Even when the necessary procedural requirements were met, pretrial interrogation was limited to
examination by a magistrate after arrest, which “is the
only form of official interrogation regarding crime described by Blackstone.” Davies, supra, at 1003. Peace
officers “had no authority at all” to interrogate arrestees, id. at 1003, but rather were “under a duty to
bring an arrested person before a magistrate immediately,” Kauper, supra, at 1229; see 1 Joseph Chitty, A
Practical Treatise on the Criminal Law 40 (1819 ed.)
(“and if he be guilty of unnecessary delay, it is a breach
of duty”); 4 Blackstone, supra, at 296. Notably, too, the
justice of the peace conducting a preliminary examination was “a local gentleman active in civic affairs, not
a career officer of the state.” Langbein, supra, at 1060.
Most importantly, defendants could not be questioned at preliminary examinations under oath, because that was regarded as a form of intrinsic coercion.
The “coercive force of an oath . . . derived from both the
secular penalties for perjury and the supernatural
sanctions for falsely invoking God’s name,” the latter
entailing “a significance that modern observers may
not fully appreciate.” Alschuler, supra, at 2649, 2632.
Once under oath, a refusal to answer was contempt, a
false answer was perjury, and an incriminating truthful answer was self-condemnation. Thus, “lawyers of
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries regarded
the threat of this punishment as compulsion.” Id. at
2632; see Theodore Barlow, The Justice of Peace: A
Treatise Containing the Power and Duty of that Magistrate 189 (1745) (“The Law of England . . . does not
13
use the Rack or Torture to compel Criminals to accuse
themselves,” and “for the same Reason . . . it does not
call upon the Criminal to answer upon Oath.”).
Because interrogation under oath was regarded as
inherently coercive, “a man could not be required in
England to accuse himself on oath in any proceeding,”
including “before a magistrate investigating an accusation against him.” Morgan, supra, at 12. Justice-ofthe-peace manuals consistently “declared that the
nemo tenetur principle precluded the interrogation of
suspects under oath,” regarding that condition as “incompatible with his privilege.” Alschuler, supra, at
2648, 2631; e.g., Michael Dalton, The Country Justice
411 (1690 ed.) (“The Offender himself shall not be examined upon Oath: for by the Common Law, Nullus
tenetur seipsum prodere.”).
Not only were defendants exempt from being put
under oath during pretrial examinations, they were
not required to answer questions at all. See Chitty,
supra, at 57 (while the Marian procedures “authorize
an examination, they are not compulsory on the prisoner to accuse himself”). To be sure, defendants faced
strong incentives to speak: a refusal to respond to the
accusation might be reported by the examining magistrate at trial. Langbein, supra, at 1061. But the possibility of a jury later drawing an inference of guilt was
the only penalty for silence. Alschuler, supra, at 2631;
see Chitty, supra, at 57 (“there is no mode of extorting
such confession or other statement from the prisoner”).
Moreover, “English criminal procedure underwent
a marked alteration” during the eighteenth century,
furnishing even stronger protection from self-incrimination as the questioning of defendants before trial
“ceased entirely.” Corwin, supra, at 10. With defense
counsel playing a greater role in proceedings, the focus
shifted from a defendant’s ability to rebut the
14
accusation against him toward an adversarial testing
of that accusation under a rigorous standard of proof.
That change eroded the informal inducements to testify. Langbein, supra, at 1066-71.
Meanwhile, the right against self-incrimination
became intertwined with a related doctrine from the
law of evidence, which barred the use of “confessions
secured by threats or promises.” Morgan, supra, at 18.
This rule, for reasons of reliability, excluded confessions that were “induced to any degree by any promises of leniency or threats.” Davies, supra, at 1021; see
Trial of Charles White, 17 Howell’s State Trials 1079,
1085 (1741) (a defendant’s confession may not be “extorted by threats, or drawn from him by promises”);
2 Matthew Hale, The History of the Pleas of the Crown
284 (1736 ed.) (a confession may be read against a defendant only if “he did it freely without any menace”).
This rule was categorical. Recognizing that “the
law cannot measure the force of the influence used, or
decide upon its effect upon the mind of the prisoner,”
it “therefore exclude[d] the declaration if any degree of
influence ha[d] been exerted.” Bram v. United States,
168 U.S. 532, 543 (1897) (quoting 3 William O. Russell,
Treatise on Crimes and Misdemeanors 478 (1896 ed.)).
Thus, “the slightest degree of influence exerted upon
the accused to speak gave rise to a presumption of compulsion that rendered the confession inadmissible.”
Benner, supra, at 65.
In response to these changes, “[t]he practice developed [in preliminary examinations] of taking only a
voluntary statement by the accused after cautioning
him as to his rights” and “of permitting the accused to
have counsel at this examination.” Kauper, supra, at
1233-34; see Chitty, supra, at 57 (“when the party is
brought before the magistrate, he is generally cautioned that he is not bound to accuse himself, and that
15
any admission may be produced against him at his
trial”). That practice migrated to America. See Wesley
MacNeil Oliver, Magistrates’ Examinations, Police Interrogations, and Miranda-Like Warnings in the Nineteenth Century, 81 Tul. L. Rev. 777, 790-92 (2007).
Ultimately, the pretrial examination of defendants under the Marian statute, even with the safeguards described above, came to be seen as anomalous—a statutory innovation that intruded on common
law freedoms. See 4 Blackstone, supra, at 296 (the
statute was “the first warrant given for the examination of a felon in the English law. For, at the common
law, nemo tenebatur prodere seipsum . . . .”); Chitty,
supra, at 56-57 (same). Americans inherited that understanding. See William Waller Hening, The New
Virginia Justice 147 (1795) (examinations under the
Marian statute “are repugnant to the common law”).
During all this time, the common law protection
from self-incrimination was never merely “an evidentiary rule for a criminal trial.” U.S. Br. 6. As shown
above, it directly prohibited the use of coercive interrogation methods during a defendant’s pretrial examination. Indeed, it shielded people who were not even
accused of a crime, much less on trial for it. The right
extended to witnesses who testified in someone else’s
criminal trial and even in civil proceedings. When
such witnesses invoked their rights, “the courts forbade other trial participants from asking them incriminating questions.” Alschuler, supra, at 2659. Once
again, that principle held sway on both sides of the Atlantic. See, e.g., Wilkes v. Wood, 98 Eng. Rep. 489, 495
(C.P. 1763) (witness in trespass suit was “not bound to
answer to any matter which may tend to accuse himself”); Marbury v. Madison, 5 U.S. 137, 144 (1803) (witness in mandamus suit was not “obliged to state any
thing which would criminate himself”); United States
16
v. Burr, 25 F. Cas. 38, 41 (C.C.D. Va. 1807) (witness in
criminal prosecution was not “compellable to accuse
himself”); see also 3 Blackstone, supra, at 364 (1766
ed.) (prospective juror could not be forced to answer
question that would “make him either forswear or accuse himself”).
At the Framing, therefore, the right against selfincrimination was both firmly established and much
more than a rule of evidence: it was a direct limit on
how government officials questioned potential offenders in their custody. Its primary function was to prevent the use of improper methods of interrogation to
secure confessions before trial—physical compulsion,
the use of oaths, and, eventually, inducements or
threats. In other words, the right against self-incrimination prohibited pretrial interrogation under conditions that were regarded as inherently coercive.
B. Reception of the Right in America
“When the Revolution began, colonies and mother
country differed little, if at all, on the right against
self-incrimination.” Levy, supra, at 404. In America,
as in England, the right developed as a restraint on
interrogation practices that were understood as intrinsically coercive. And as in England, it first flourished
in high-profile controversies of political significance
before spreading to routine criminal prosecutions. To
the Framers, this right represented a bulwark of individual liberty secured by the common law, which they
sought to preserve from future innovations that would
undermine its safeguards. Those safeguards, moreover, focused on barring coercive methods of securing
evidence from potential offenders, not simply on excluding improperly gained evidence from trial.
English colonial settlement of North America took
place at a time “when opposition to the ex-officio oath
17
of the ecclesiastical courts was most pronounced,” and
when “the insistence upon the privilege against selfincrimination in the courts of common law had begun
to have decided effect.” R. Carter Pittman, Colonial
and Constitutional History of the Privilege Against
Self-Incrimination in America, 21 Va. L. Rev. 763, 769
(1934-1935). Despite their diversity, all the colonies
“proclaimed an intention in principle to provide criminal justice in conformity with the laws of England,”
Eben Moglen, Taking the Fifth: Reconsidering the Origins of the Constitutional Privilege Against Self-Incrimination, 92 Mich. L. Rev. 1086, 1091 (1994), and
royal charters provided that colonists were to enjoy all
the privileges of Englishmen, Pittman, supra, at 766.
American criminal procedure thus mirrored the
English model. It included pretrial examinations under the Marian committal statute, as well as the grand
jury and “other palladia of English liberties,” Moglen,
supra, at 1104, that confined the use of such examinations.
As in England, structural incentives encouraged
arrestees to respond to the accusations against them
during pretrial examinations. Id. at 1089. But “the
American records also disclose a strong array of beliefs
concerning the inappropriateness of physical and spiritual coercion to secure evidence of crime.” Id. at 1104.
Over time, “the history of preliminary examination follows a course parallel to that” in England. Kauper,
supra, at 1235. “The establishment of the rule against
self-incrimination” in England, “resulting in abolition
of the practice of interrogating the accused, had the
same effect in the American colonies.” Id. at 1236.
From the beginning, Americans were averse to
conditions of interrogation that they viewed as inherently coercive—a sentiment reflected in limits on pretrial questioning.
18
The 1641 Massachusetts Body of Liberties, a precursor to later bills of rights, “provided a rudimentary
guarantee against compulsory self-incrimination.”
Benner, supra, at 86. Prohibiting the use of physical
coercion to obtain confessions, it dictated that “[n]o
man shall be forced by torture to confess any crime
against himself.” Mass. Body of Liberties, art. 45
(1641) (spelling modernized).
Americans also agreed that forcing suspects to answer questions about themselves under oath was unduly coercive. Indeed, “the ex officio oath . . . was more
uniformly reprehended than in England,” likely due to
colonial Americans’ particular religious sensibilities.
Moglen, supra, at 1100-01. “Hence the great codes of
Congregationalist New England specifically limited
the use and wording of oaths to prevent the use of spiritual coercion.” Id. at 1101 (footnote omitted).
Together, these prohibitions on physical and spiritual coercion “afforded the colonists complete protection against compulsion, either by torture or by an
oath, to confess their own delinquency.” Pittman, supra, at 776.
That protection was not limited to trials. From an
early date, it shielded arrestees who were brought before magistrates for their preliminary examinations.
In 1642, the governor of Massachusetts inquired of
several ministers “[h]ow far a magistrate may extract
a confession from a delinquent, to accuse himself of a
capital crime, seeing nemo tenetur prodere seipsum.”
William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation 1620–1647,
at 407 (Samuel E. Morison ed., 1952) (1651). The ministers agreed that no oath could be employed. As one
wrote, a magistrate could use “force of argument”
against a defendant “to draw him to an acknowledgment of the truth,” but “may not extract a confession
of a capital crime from a suspected person by any
19
violent means, whether it be by an oath imposed, or by
any punishment inflicted or threatened to be inflicted,
for so he may draw forth an acknowledgment of a
crime from a fearful innocent.” Id.; see Pittman, supra,
at 777-79; Alschuler, supra, at 2650.
Just like in England, therefore, the burgeoning
protection from self-incrimination directly restrained
interrogation practices. Indeed, numerous colonial
legislatures declared that authorities could not use coercive modes of interrogation—primarily questioning
under oath—to force people to accuse themselves. This
protection was not limited to a person’s own criminal
trial, but applied to any sworn questioning. Thus, in
1677, Virginia’s legislature resolved that compelling
individuals to answer incriminating questions under
oath was contrary to common law rights: “the law has
provided that a person summoned as a witness against
another, ought to answer upon oath, but no law can
compel a man to swear against himself in any matter
wherein he is liable to corporal punishment.” 2 Statutes at Large: Being a Collection of All the Laws of Virginia 422 (William W. Hening ed., 1823) (spelling modernized); see Alschuler, supra, at 2651. Massachusetts
likewise provided in 1692 that “any person duly summoned” to give evidence concerning a violation of the
law must answer questions on pain of penalty, “other
than the party himself.” Pittman, supra, at 782 n.30.
Connecticut in 1711 similarly prescribed that a witness must testify under oath only “so far as it concerns
any other person besides himself.” Id. at 781 (spelling
modernized).
The right against self-incrimination became further entrenched throughout the colonies in the eighteenth century, due to the growth of the legal profession
and the greater availability of English treatises. Benner, supra, at 87. And it continued to be understood
20
as a protection extending well beyond the trial phase
of a prosecution. In 1754, for instance, the Massachusetts legislature passed an excise bill compelling residents to disclose to tax collectors, under oath, the
amounts they spent on liquor. Denounced by pamphleteers, the bill was “thought to be a menace to freedom . . . because of its incriminating oath,” Levy, supra, at 386, which threatened “an essential Part of our
Constitution, that no Man is held to convict himself in
any Affair whereof he is accus’d,” id. (quoting pamphlet). Vetoing the bill, the governor called it a violation of “natural Rights.” Id. As those sentiments reflect, the right against self-incrimination was understood to be violated when an incriminating statement
was compelled through a coercive process—not merely
when that statement was later admitted in court.
II. The Framers Adopted the SelfIncrimination Clause to Prevent
Innovations that Would Undermine the
Common Law’s Protection from Coercive
Interrogation Practices.
The right against self-incrimination gained new
prominence amid the “explosion of constitutional polemic in British North America after 1760.” Moglen,
supra, at 1111. Insisting on their rights as Englishmen in response to affronts by royal authorities, including the use of inquisitorial tactics to obtain criminal confessions, Americans lauded a “closely interwoven” set of rights they believed “intrinsic to the common law tradition, unmodifiable by an increasingly
sovereign British Parliament.” Id. at 1111-12. Their
campaign enshrined the right against self-incrimination as a fundamental safeguard from arbitrary interference with personal liberty. Later, the Framers
adopted the Fifth Amendment to prevent legislative
incursions on that safeguard.
21
A. The American colonists “were well educated as
to their rights as Englishmen,” Pittman, supra, at 769,
and they viewed the common law as “protect[ing] security and property because it provided liberty,”
Moglen, supra, at 1113. Seeking “equality of treatment with the King’s English subjects,” Americans essentially “claimed a constitutional right to the common
law.” Id.
First and foremost, “Americans exalted the jury
and all the common law rules and maxims ancillary to
its function,” id. at 1112, including protection from
self-incrimination and other safeguards that ensured
an accusatory system of justice. As the Continental
Congress explained to its Quebec neighbors after Britain resolved to withhold common law protections from
that territory, the right to jury trial ensured “that neither life, liberty nor property, can be taken from the
possessor, until twelve of his unexceptionable countrymen and peers” passed sentence against him “upon a
fair trial, and full enquiry, face to face, in open Court.”
To the Inhabitants of the Province of Quebec (Oct.
1774), in 1 Journals of the Continental Congress 107
(1904). Growing reverence for the jury heightened
Americans’ disdain for inquisitorial tactics that coerced confessions, thereby “short-circuit[ing] the accusatory role of the community” and depriving defendants of meaningful jury trials. Moglen, supra, at 1112.
Moreover, “American liberty seemed increasingly
threatened by the same forces that earlier generations
of Englishmen had resisted.” Id. at 1113. Conflict
swirled around attempts to extort confessions through
the use of “prerogative” courts, where, “at the mere
will of the royal Governor, an accused was called before the Governor and his council” and subjected to interrogation that was “inquisitional and ofttimes overbearing.” Pittman, supra, at 783-84. As with modern
22
police interrogation, the goal was to “procure confessions upon which . . . convictions of the delinquents
could be secured before a jury.” Id. at 784.
Resisting these tactics, Americans sought direct
protection from coercive pretrial interrogation. As
early as the seventeenth century, Massachusetts residents objected in a pamphlet that the governor and
council would “fetch up persons” before them, “not to
receive their trial but only to be examined there, and
so remitted to an inferior court to be farther proceeded
against.” The Revolution in New-England Justified 57
(1773 ed.) (1691) (spelling modernized). These examinations “were unreasonably strict, and rigorous and
very unduly ensnaring to plain unexperienced men.”
Id.
In Pennsylvania, printer William Bradford was
summoned before the governor, who sought his confession for publishing a controversial work. Refusing to
answer, Bradford declared: “[I]f anything be laid to my
charge, let me know my accusers. I am not bound to
accuse myself.” Pittman, supra, at 785; see also id. at
785-86 (describing similar incident in Massachusetts).
In Virginia, the lieutenant governor was accused
of issuing orders “to examine witnesses against particular men ex parte,” and “if witnesses do not swear up
to what is expected, they are tampered with.” Charges
Against Governor Nicholson, reprinted in 3 Va. Mag.
Hist. & Bio., Apr. 1896, at 373, 378. “On the very eve
of the Revolution,” Virginia’s governor “was hailing
those accused of forging paper currency before himself
and his Council and was there making examinations
in a very inquisitorial manner.” Pittman, supra, at
786. The House of Burgesses—which included many
members who would soon safeguard protection from
self-incrimination in America’s first declaration of
23
rights—made “violent protests” against this departure
from the “usual mode” of criminal examination. Id.
B. As the American dispute with Britain reached
a crescendo, a central grievance was the expanded use
of prerogative courts, particularly vice-admiralty
courts, to enforce revenue measures against which the
colonists protested. See id. at 786-87. Without juries
or the accusatory requirements of the common law,
vice-admiralty procedures were seen as “tyrannical
and unconstitutional innovations,” lacking the safeguards that “Englishmen had a right to expect.”
Moglen, supra, at 1115-16. Thus, amid resistance to
the Stamp Act, residents of Providence explained that
“we look upon our natural Rights to be diminished in
the same Proportion, as the Powers of that Court are
extended.” Id. at 1116. Boston residents proclaimed
that, after taxation without representation, “the Jurisdiction of the Admiralty” was “our greatest Grievance.”
Id. at 1116 n.108. One galvanizing incident was the
“smuggling prosecution of John Hancock in the Boston
vice-admiralty court, news of which was disseminated
widely among the colonies” and “described as an inquisitorial ‘fishing’ procedure,” Davies, supra, at 1001
n.77, marked by “tactics of examining men secretly
and by ‘odious’ interrogatories,” Levy, supra, at 398.
In their resistance to vice-admiralty and its inquisitorial methods, Americans “began to adopt rhetoric concerning the unconstitutionality of prerogative
justice” first employed the previous century in England. Moglen, supra, at 1116. “While the Court of
High Commission had been the primary target in the
earlier era, Admiralty became the focus of hostility in
America, primarily because of its alleged employment
of the ex officio oath for coercive purposes.” Id. Before
long, “[t]he ex officio oath and the abuses of Star
Chamber procedure again became staples of the
24
pamphlet literature.” Id. The controversy thus “reopened old questions that had been settled,” calling for
“a reaffirmation of th[e] privilege against compulsory
self-incrimination.” Pittman, supra, at 787.
C. These trends culminated in the constitutions
and declarations of rights the states adopted after separating from Britain, which included “various restatements of the traditional nemo tenetur maxim.”
Moglen, supra, at 1115. In these documents, Americans aimed to safeguard the full scope of this wellknown common law right.
Virginia’s widely emulated Declaration of Rights
protected a cluster of safeguards later embodied in the
Fifth and Sixth Amendments, including a prohibition
on compelled self-incrimination. See Va. Decl. of
Rights § 8 (1776) (“nor can he be compelled to give evidence against himself”). Because this protection attached “in all capital or criminal prosecutions,” id., it
covered all custodial interrogations. Under common
law, “a ‘prosecution’ began when there was an arrest.”
Davies, supra, at 1010 n.123; see Hale, supra, at 72
(describing the “arrests or apprehending” of suspects
as “the first instance of their prosecution”). That was
the same point at which custodial interrogation could
begin. Thus, unlike today, there was no custodial interrogation before the initiation of a prosecution.
The Massachusetts Declaration of Rights, “drafted
by John Adams, one of the most learned common law
lawyers of his day,” overtly linked the “right to be free
at all times from compulsory self-incrimination” with
the right “not to be subjected to interrogation prior to
a substantiated formal charge.” Benner, supra, at 8788; see Mass. Const. of 1780, art. XII (“No subject shall
be held to answer for any crimes or offence, until the
same is fully and plainly, substantially, and formally,
described to him; or be compelled to accuse, or furnish
25
evidence against himself.”). Reflecting the traditional
breadth of the right against self-incrimination, this
protection was an affirmative limit on what officials
could do when seeking evidence of a crime.
D. These constitutional provisions “were intended
conservatively, protecting against . . . possible innovations by a tyrannical government.” Moglen, supra, at
1089. Later, when a new and more powerful federal
government was proposed by the Constitutional Convention, some statesmen perceived a threat of such innovations reemerging.
Patrick Henry warned in Virginia’s ratifying convention that “Congress may introduce the practice of
the civil law, in preference to that of the common law,”
authorizing its officials to “extort confession by torture.” 3 The Debates in the Several State Conventions
on the Adoption of the Federal Constitution 447-48
(Jonathan Elliot ed., 1836). In Massachusetts, one delegate stressed that “[t]here is nothing to prevent Congress from passing laws which shall compel a man,
who is accused or suspected of a crime, to furnish evidence against himself.” 2 id. at 111. A New York delegate similarly urged that Congress might establish
criminal proceedings at odds with the common law, invoking the Star Chamber. 2 id. at 400.
In response, the Framers of the Bill of Rights safeguarded the right against self-incrimination, elevating
it from a traditional common law protection to a fundamental constitutional guarantee. As the history
above underscores, the Framers were not concerned
only with rules of evidence governing trials. Instead,
they were “focused upon improper methods of gaining
information from criminal suspects,” and specifically
on prohibiting “forms of coercive interrogation.”
Alschuler, supra, at 2651-52.
26
E. The text of the Fifth Amendment reflects the
Framers’ broad goals. Nothing about it restricts the
scope of the Self-Incrimination Clause to the work of
“prosecutors and courts.” Pet. Br. 17.
The Amendment provides that no person shall “be
compelled in any criminal case to be a witness against
himself.” U.S. Const. amend. V. Because this language was “but an affirmance of a common law privilege,” 3 Joseph Story, Commentaries on the Constitution § 1782, at 660 (1833), the Framers “were content
simply to use a phrase sufficient to invoke the settled
common-law right and place it off limits to legislative
change,” Davies, supra, at 1007. In other words, the
compact wording of the Clause was a “gesture in favor
of a self-evident truth needing no further explanation,”
revealing “an intent to incorporate into the Constitution the whole scope of the common-law right.” Levy,
supra, at 430, 423.
The Clause’s applicability beyond trial is clear
from its placement alongside other rights that govern
when and how the state may initiate action depriving
individuals of legal entitlements: the Takings Clause,
the Due Process Clause, the Grand Jury Clause, the
Double Jeopardy Clause. The Framers carefully attended to the location of the Self-Incrimination Clause,
see id. at 423-27, and if the Clause were concerned only
with trial procedure, it would have been grouped with
similar rights in the Sixth Amendment. Its inclusion
in the Fifth Amendment “proves that the [Framers]
did not intend to restrict that clause . . . only to [a person’s] trial.” Id. at 427.
Accordingly, the Clause’s text is phrased “broadly
enough to apply . . . to any phase of the proceedings.”
Id. The government claims that a person is a witness
against himself in a criminal case “only when his compelled testimony is admitted against him at trial.”
27
U.S. Br. 7. But neither of the government’s textual
hooks for this claim—the words “witness” and “case”—
supports that limitation. Thus, even though a violation of the Clause may not be complete until the statement compelled from a person is actually used against
him, Chavez v. Martinez, 538 U.S. 760 (2003), there is
no textual basis for equating that requirement with
the admission of testimony in a courtroom.
A “witness” is not limited to someone whose testimony is admitted in a judicial proceeding. As this
Court has explained, a person becomes a “witness
against himself” when making “incriminating communications . . . that are ‘testimonial’ in character,”
United States v. Hubbell, 530 U.S. 27, 34 (2000), which
requires only “assertions of fact or belief,” id. at 35. In
ordinary usage, the word “witness” includes people
who relay their knowledge of an incident to someone
else, regardless of the location or forum. E.g., Ohio v.
Clark, 576 U.S. 237, 243 (2015) (referring to “statements by a witness during police questioning at the
station house”). The same was true at the Framing.
Indeed, the word “witness” was consistently used to
describe people who gave information at Marian preliminary examinations—the antecedent to modern
custodial police interrogations. See Hale, supra, at 52;
2 William Hawkins, A Treatise of the Pleas of the
Crown 430 (1762 ed.); 1 Richard Burn, The Justice of
the Peace and Parish Officer 760-61 (1810 ed.); James
Parker, Conductor Generalis: or the Office, Duty and
Authority of Justices of the Peace 174 (1764).
Likewise, the word “case” does not limit the SelfIncrimination Clause to the admission of evidence “at
trial.” U.S. Br. 7. Notably, the Sixth and Seventh
Amendments both use the word “trial,” but the Fifth
Amendment conspicuously uses the broader word
“case,” which is general enough to refer simply to a
28
legal matter or question. See Samuel Johnson, A Dictionary of the English Language (6th ed. 1785) (defining “case” among other things as a “[q]uestion relating
to particular persons or things”); Counselman v. Hitchcock, 142 U.S. 547, 562 (1892) (construing the Clause
as “limited to criminal matters” but covering any situation in which a person is “acting as a witness in any
investigation”).
When a person “is first subjected to police interrogation while in custody . . . . [i]t is at this point that
our adversary system of criminal proceedings commences,” Miranda, 384 U.S. at 477, and the process “is
quite as much an official proceeding as the early English preliminary hearing before a magistrate,” Morgan, supra, at 28. Significantly, the other use of the
word “case” in the Fifth Amendment—in the Grand
Jury Clause—likewise relates to a pre-trial proceeding. And another constitutional provision makes
members of Congress, with certain exceptions, “privileged from Arrest” “in all Cases,” U.S. Const. art. I, § 6,
again referring to the initiation of a criminal matter,
not to courtroom proceedings or a trial. Indeed, it
seems that the only reason the phrase “in any criminal
case” was added to the Clause was to make clear that
it did not protect against compelled exposure to civil
liability. See Hubbell, 530 U.S. at 53 n.3 (Thomas, J.,
concurring); Levy, supra, at 423-26.
Finally, for the Framers there was no in-custody
interrogation without a “case.” Preliminary examination by a magistrate, which by definition was a judicial
proceeding, was the only form of custodial questioning
before trial that the common law permitted. Modern
rules of law enforcement, by contrast, permit detention
and interrogation by government officers before the filing of criminal charges—and hence before the beginning of court proceedings. That is precisely the type of
29
deviation from historic common law safeguards that
the Framers adopted the Self-Incrimination Clause to
protect against. Whatever innovations in criminal
procedure society chooses to embrace, the Fifth
Amendment, like the Fourth, is meant to provide at
least the level of protection against government power
that existed when the Amendment was ratified. Kyllo
v. United States, 533 U.S. 27, 34 (2001).
CONCLUSION
For the foregoing reasons, the judgment of the
court of appeals should be affirmed.
Respectfully submitted,
ELIZABETH B. WYDRA
BRIANNE J. GOROD*
BRIAN R. FRAZELLE
CONSTITUTIONAL
ACCOUNTABILITY CENTER
1200 18th Street NW, Suite 501
Washington, D.C. 20036
(202) 296-6889
brianne@theusconstitution.org
Counsel for Amicus Curiae
April 6, 2022
* Counsel of Record
This is a copy of a public record, reproduced as it was published. It is not legal advice, and it may not be the version a court would rely on. Check the official source before you cite it.