Thoughts On the Moussaoui Trial’s Recent Developments
March 17, 2006
So Carla Martin, the TSA attorney at the heart of the Moussaoui witness fiasco, has been placed on paid administrative leave. This is not surprising. I suspect Francine Kerner, TSA’s Chief Counsel, had no choice but to do so (but don’t know that for a fact, of course, being relatively unschooled in the ways of the federally-employed). (I met Ms. Kerner at AAAE last fall as well as some of her staff attorneys – I’m not sure if Ms. Martin was among them, but I don’t recall seeing her, judging from published photographs).
I think I’m going to take some heat for saying this, but – here goes:
It’s hard for me not to feel a moderate, if not significantly larger, degree of sympathy for Ms. Martin.
Let me be clear. I don’t condone her actions, if the allegations are true (it seems to have been accepted as gospel by Judge Brinkema, the prosecution, and most media outlets that they are, but, again – I don’t know that for a fact). Nor do I think she can be excused on the grounds that she wasn’t aware of the judge’s order; the rule on witnesses is fairly commonplace, if not ubiquitous, and this can’t be the first time she came across it.
No, my sympathy stems from a deeper place, and it’s based on my reading between the lines – a lot. Reading this article, and this one, in context of the larger picture of the Moussaoui circus trial, a picture emeges (at least in the movie theater in my brain) of a woman with a strong sense of self, a zest for her work, and a desire to be seen as an expert. And all of that resonates with me, big time.
Did she mean to derail this trial? It seems obvious to me the answer is "of course not." I can’t fathom that she meant to do anything but help secure the outcome sought by the administration. Therefore, the consequences of her actions (both personally and to the trial), while understandable and foreseeable, seem overwhelming to her, I’m sure.
Has any lawyer ever not been in a similar position? Of having blundered, or almost blundered, or having contemplated blundering, into an area that, in hindsight, would have produced disastrous results? Did you ever start to open your mouth in a client meeting when you were a first-year associate, and later thank God you didn’t because you were about to misstate the law in such an obvious way as to have made your boss sorry he hired you? Did you ever toy with filing a motion you later learned would have gotten you disbarred? These examples are deliberately extreme. What Ms. Martin stands accused of is extreme. But we’ve all come close to making mistakes, and every single one of us has made them – some of them real doozies, I’m sure.
What’s about to happen to Ms. Martin is also extreme – extremely serious, extremely stressful, extremely unpleasant, and extremely detrimental to a career she obviously cares deeply about. It’s also extremely appropriate, in every sense, and while I wish her well, and feel some empathy for her plight, there’s a tiny part of me that wonders how many others engage in activities that bad, and worse, every day, and wishes they came with warning labels.