[Note: This is not legal advice]

If you are poor, real justice is unlikely

Justice is elusive for an accused individual who is poor. When I say “justice,” I am talking about more than having a competent lawyer and fair trial. Properly defined justice must include the sum of the entire process.

Justice is defined as right relationship. This means our behavior towards others must be in accord with the dignity and natural rights we possess as human beings. In the judicial system it must also include the government’s right relationship with its citizens in exercising restraint and respecting human dignity and natural rights.

The founders of the United States of America were primarily concerned with government power exceeding what the people could control, especially the power of the government to deprive citizens of freedom. Freedom is a natural right.

Police, prosecutors, and judges are directly in the business of depriving citizens of freedom for committing crimes. They are the government. People who are poor are especially vulnerable to the sheer magnitude of a well-funded government apparatus seeking to prove their guilt and remove their freedom.

Pre-trial

Most defendants cannot afford an attorney. Approximately 80% of state and 90% of federal defendants need a public defender. Private legal representation costs too much. Most public defenders I know have caseloads exceeding 150 defendants. This does not mean public defenders are less competent, just overworked.

Jail

Most defendants cannot afford bail and are therefore detained. If people are innocence until [unless] proven guilty, then we have lots of innocent people languishing in jails for months, even years, awaiting a resolution to their cases.

Pre-trial defendants are usually housed in county jails with people who have been convicted of crimes or taken a plea deal for them. “Innocent unless proven guilty” is a lovely phrase, but it is meaningless when you are forcibly confined in jail and treated like a criminal. I have never met a pre-trial inmate who felt like an innocent citizen in a county jail.

When your freedoms have been stripped, including the freedom to interact with loved ones face-to-face (most are video visits) and having to pay 0.20/minute for phone calls, you may be technically innocent unless proven guilty, but you are nothing more than another inmate in a jumpsuit.

The process is the punishment

Let’s look at an oversimplified example of how an arrest could ruin your life, even if you are innocent. The process, not the facts or outcome, can ruin people’s lives.

You are arrested for Burglary 3rd degree. Kentucky defines this crime as:

“A person is guilty of burglary in the third degree when, with the intent to commit a crime, he or she knowingly enters or remains unlawfully in a building” (511.040).

You entered a building thinking you were permitted to be there. Someone calls the police. When the police arrive, they question the owner who states you have already left but you were there to steal expensive equipment kept in the building (the intent).

The police locate you, ask if you entered the property in question. You say “Yes,” and try to explain. The police arrest you and transport you to the local jail.

Your bail is set at 5000.00 (typical for a class D felony in Kentucky). You cannot even afford the 20% required to make bail. You are assigned a public defender as your legal counsel and remain incarcerated in the county jail pending resolution of your case.

The police released your name on their Facebook page, while the local news outlet published your arrest and mugshot on their website. People predictably condemn you in the comments section and gossip about you around town. Then you lose your job.

Awaiting trial in jail means months without income. You lose your apartment, car, phone service, become delinquent with credit cards, and are racking up daily jail fees. An amazing defense lawyer and investigator work your case and find exonerating evidence. After you spent eight months in jail, the prosecutor dismisses the charges against you. You are released from custody. Awesome, right?

You lost your freedom for eight months, being unable to hug your children. You lost your job, apartment, car, phone, credit cards, your reputation, and you owe the county thousands of dollars for the eight months you spent incarcerated as an innocent person awaiting your day in court.

At least you got justice, right?

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

Criminals were once innocent children

I frequently visit jails, interview witnesses to crimes, examine crime scenes, watch surveillance and bodycam videos, and the like. I see people experiencing the worst days of their lives.

We were all children once. We wanted to be safe, loved, and to play. No toddler says, “I want to be a drug addict and get arrested when I grow up.” Nor is our childhood dream to spend the rest of our lives in prison.

When I visit inmates in jail, I often imagine them when they were babies or toddlers. This may sound odd, but I do it for a reason. As children their lives were innocent and their whole futures were ahead of them. They had the potential to be formed to grow up doing good for others, to face the risks and challenges, the choices and consequences, and the responsibilities of adulthood.

For inmates, if guilty, something went terribly wrong in their formative years or with the choices they made as they got older. Sometimes they made that one bad choice and got caught.

Sometimes I discover what an inmate endured as a child and wonder, “Did he ever have a chance?” I sometimes ask them about their hopes and dreams. I always pray they still have hopes and dreams. Sadly, some do not.

Righteous people

Most people see themselves as “good people.” Even people who live treacherously bad lives will often say, “But deep down I am a good person.” In the depths of the human soul there is a desire and longing for goodness. We want to be good (or at least seen as good) and we want to be part of goodness.

Sometimes, to feel righteous, to convince ourselves we are “good,” we find people (or create them) who are worse than us. We ridicule, condemn, and assume the worst about others to provide a “them,” a “those people,” who provide a sharp contrast to our own faults to convince ourselves and others of our goodness. “Look how good I am compared to that evil bast**d.”

This comparison ritual plays out every single day in people who will not acknowledge their own faults and are convinced of their own righteousness and bent on convincing everyone else. Goodness by comparison is fake.

Looking through a different lens

People who recognize their own faults and how they hurt others, and who ask for forgiveness and strive to correct their faults, see the world differently than those who maintain artificial personas. These people look at the world through a lens of humility.

Humble people see reality the way it is. They understand there is a fine line separating good and evil, and that line runs right through them. They acknowledge that different circumstances could have shaped their lives quite differently. They understand their lives could change in an instant and they could become one of “those people.”

People seeking to be humble will not “pretend” they are good. They will not paint others “bad” to perpetuate their illusions. In fact, they will look for goodness in others, even in the worst offenders of moral norms. Why? Because they acknowledge their own struggles with evil.

Truth, beauty, and goodness

Human beings were created for truth, beauty, and goodness. When we are surrounded by lies, ugliness, and bad actors, the world can feel heavy. We do not make it better by celebrating our own supposed goodness and mocking the mistakes or perceived evil of others. A heavy burden is lifted when we stop faking virtue.

Goodness is beautiful. Goodness does not celebrate the faults of others but forgives them. Yes, we need to hold people who commit evil accountable, but it can be done with gentleness and love.

When we acknowedlge reality the way it is, see our own faults and failures, forgive others and lift them up, we will begin to cultivate beauty and goodness. We will contribute to healing the wounds of our world.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

Gatekeepers run the legal system. Citizens lack access except through the gatekeepers.

The modern labyrinth

Imagine John, a local mechanic accused of receiving stolen auto parts. John is sharp and runs a solid business, but he has no legal training. From the moment of his arrest, he enters a system designed for bureaucratic processing, not citizen participation.

John immediately confronts a procedural wall. There are multiple hearings designed for different proceedings, each with their own paperwork, deadlines, and procedural rules. There are rules of evidence, rules about who can speak in court, and others. In the courtroom, power is on vivid display and the average citizen feels completely disenfranchised.

Early in the process John wants to show the judge a receipt proving he paid for the auto parts and that these charges against him are false. The judge tells him to stop talking. Under strict rules of evidence, his receipt is “hearsay” unless he can authenticate it through a formal foundation that he does not know how to lay. When he tries to speak again, the judge warns him: “Mr. Davis, I advise you to speak only through your counsel. Anything you say on the record can and will be used against you.” John is rendered mute in his own defense.

For John, the modern system is an automated factory run by an exclusive guild. John is not a member of the guild. He is the raw material moving along a conveyor belt, entirely dependent on specialized technicians (lawyers and judges) to operate the machinery. John has a court-appointed lawyer, which is the reality for most Americans (most people cannot afford 300.00+/hour lawyers). He will rarely speak to his attorney, not because they do not care, but because public defenders are overwhelmed with at least 150 active cases, often more, at any given moment.

People charged with crimes are disenfranchised because they lack access and control over a mysterious system that decides their fate. What is frightening about this situation is that most people have accepted this gnostic system.

No access to justice

There is a need to simplify the legal process to allow average citizens access to the judicial system. There have been attempts at reform but they have failed. These attempts have been mostly in the area of allowing paralegal professionals to assist clients. Even though I encourage a wholesale reform, greater access through paraprofessionals is a start.

The legal profession uses a phrase called unauthorized practice of law (UPL) to protect the profession and block anyone other than a bar licensed lawyer from assisting clients. Even explaining a legal form and how to complete it can be interpreted as UPL. The legal profession argues they are protecting citizens from harm.

Limited License Legal Technicians (LLLTs)

Washington State tried a method by which trained nonlawyer professionals assisted clients in accessing the courts. The program began in 2012, initiated by the State Supreme Court. It was successful at helping people in need of legal access.

The program was killed by lawyers in 2020. The program, it seems, was seen as a potential threat to the legal profession.

The self-governing judiciary

The judicial system governs itself. State legislatures construct laws that govern other professions, such as doctors, nurses, teachers, electricians, and the like. The legislative branch cannot govern the judiciary or legal profession. The judiciary, a different branch of government, regulates itself, including the practice of law.

There is one action a state legislature can take: punish the judiciary through its budget. In a system of checks and balances state lawmakers, who control state money, can tell the judiciary to solve its problems, or else.

Voters control who serve as legislators. If citizens want to abolish secret handshakes, coded language, lift the judicial veil, and gain more access to the courts, they need to pressure their representatives. The system needs to be fixed.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

(Declaration of Independence by John Trumbull, 1819)

Being happy looks like something

Happiness in the sense of political philosophy is not a vague notion or experience demonstrated by mere feelings and material achievements. It is a philosophy that undergirds the American founding. A political philosophy based in virtue is hopeful, declaring the truth that we can, in fact, govern ourselves.

In short, happiness can be achieved when how we live together is based on universal and objective truth. “We hold these truths to be self-evident…” We are happy when we are in right relationship with one another. Right relationship from the perspective of the American founding is the recognition of natural rights possessed by every human being and a restrained government that does not infringe upon these rights.

These natural rights are based on natural law, a law higher than human invention, one that is universal and objective (true for everyone). Laws based on human invention are not based on enduring principles. They are dangerously dependent on human fancy. What is right or wrong, like genocides, can change with time and cultures if they are not based on unchanging, universal principles.

Morality, right living, and politics

First, let’s define morality and virtue. Even though I use the terms loosely, they have somewhat different meanings. Morality is generally how we live together. They are societal norms and dictate what is right and wrong. Virtues are internal character traits and habits that make you a good person. Morals dictate what you should do, while virtue defines who you are.

Morality is a dreaded word for many people, but it doesn’t need to be. In fact, morality is all around us. Most people would say it is wrong to hunt down and assault gay men and women. This is morality. We would also say it is wrong to watch a neighbor beat his children day after day and do nothing. This is morality. Most of us would also say it is right to feed someone who is starving on the street. This is morality.

Morality is a way of living based on the truth of who we are as human beings. It is the only way to secure and defend individual human rights and protect citizens and communities from the arbitrariness of government power. It is also how we restrain citizens from tearing each other apart.

Morality is a way of living together. How we govern, whether we help our neighbors, care for children, give people the benefit of doubt, etc.

The government arbitrarily depriving citizens of their freedom, invading their privacy, confiscating their property, and the like are all examples of a tyrannical regime, a government acting immorally, against the natural rights of human beings.

The American founders believed that the only way our Republic could survive was to understand the importance of equally protecting human rights based in right morality. This is why are founders thought government should concern itself with forming the moral character of its citizens. Some of the earliest state constitutions, such as Massachusetts, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia discussed the importance of the formation of citizens in virtue.

How else can a Republic survive?

Philosophers as diverse as Aristotle, Cicero, Aquinas, and Locke all stated that the goal of human life is happiness, and that virtue is the condition for happiness. George Washington, in his first inaugural address expressed the consensus of his contemporaries when he said:

“…there exists in the economy and course of nature an indissoluble union between virtue and happiness, between duty and advantage, between the genuine maxims of an honest and magnanimous policy and the solid rewards of public prosperity and felicity” (1789).

In the Federalist (essential reading to understand the American founding), Madison asserts that without virtue, republican government will fail. He says,

“As there is a degree of depravity in mankind which requires a certain degree of circumspection and distrust so there are other qualities in human nature which justify a certain portion of esteem and confidence. Republican government presupposes the existence of these qualities in a higher degree than any other form.” Madison goes on to say that if there is no virtue then only despotism, totalitarian government, can restrain them from devouring one another. (Federalist 55).

Enforcement of moral law

Crime and punishment are based on enforcing morality (right living) in community. Justice is defined as being in right relationship with one another. Murder, rape, assault, robbery, kidnapping, and other crimes are not virtuous actions, they violate moral norms, and they are unjust. They violate the natural rights of others and the human dignity of the person committing them.

The American founders sought to protect the liberty of citizens by restraining the government, but also by emphasizing why this was important: that human beings have natural rights grounded in natural law. The founders also understood and addressed the dangers of government power.

This newsletter addresses both the dangers of, and the need to restrain, government power and the necessity of citizens to be formed in virtue. Recognizing and striving for both is the only way our Republic will survive.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

[This is not legal advice]

Confirmation bias and flawed investigations

Confirmation bias is fascinating, but frightening. We all do it. The definition is found in its name: there is a bias toward confirming what we believe, or want to believe.

Confirmation bias is a filter. It is a tendency to interpret and favor information that aligns with one’s existing beliefs.

Here is a real-life crime example (fictitious, but based on true scenarios).

You are being falsely accused of shoplifting weeks after the theft allegedly occurred. The store discovered an expensive item missing from its package, with the empty package left on the shelf. It occurred sometime between the time you were in the store and three weeks later when they discovered the empty packaging. When they checked surveillance, they discovered you on camera. You made two passes down the aisle in the same shopping trip and picked up the item to look at it. The store video, like most, is grainy. The store manager calls police and accuses you.

You are interviewed by the police and you “cooperate” because you want to clear your name (I put “cooperate” in quotes because law enforcement will often label our constitutional right to remain silent as “lack of cooperation”). You insist that you stole nothing from the store that is accusing you.

The police tell you that the store’s surveillance cameras “caught” you on camera stealing merchandise. You deny it, saying you went through the self-checkout and paid for everything. “Everything?” they ask accusatorily.

The police ask you if you went down the aisle where the item was located. You reply, “Yes.” The officer continues, “You went down the same aisle twice in the same shopping trip, didn’t you? “Yes. I was considering…” “Stealing the item?” the officer interjects. You are speechless. They interpret your lack of an explanation as probable guilt.

“And you picked that item up, did you not?” “Yes, I did,” you reply, “but I…” The officer interrupts you, “You were caught taking that item right on camera” (which is not true). “It will go a lot easier for you if you just admit it.” You insist you did no such thing. You are sweating, heart racing, and anxious. Police interpret your emotions as probable guilt.

Confirmation bias is central in this police investigation. The investigators interpret the suspect’s answers in a way that confirms what they believe or want to believe. Confirmation likely began when investigators first interviewed the store manager and watched the video and before they ever questioned the suspect. This order of events helps set up the narrative in the minds of law enforcement officers.

Other contributors to confirmation bias may include past criminal history (of any kind). Running a criminal history check prior to seeking facts and piecing together a theory of the crime is a set-up for confirmation bias. Socioeconomic status, race, having multiple tatoos, piercings, and other factors can also contribute to confirmation bias.

Tunnel vision and the distortion of truth

Tunnel vision is an overly narrow focus on events where law enforcement stops looking for new facts or dismisses exonerating evidence that does not support an existing theory. We can see how this works using the same scenario of the accused shoplifter.

Detectives did not review the entire video to look for more evidence and alternate suspects. There were three weeks of surveillance video of that aisle and they only watched the few minutes shown to them by the store manager. They failed to examine the video to ascertain whether the suspect took the time and effort to remove the product from its package and pocket it. They did not ask questions of the suspect (or interrupted) that would threaten their existing theory of the crime.

Human nature and self-awareness

An important take-away for law enforcement and citizens alike is confronting the reality of human nature. We are all flawed. We are all prone to bias.

We tend to cling to certain beliefs and ways of looking at the world, of theories of how the world works, and what “those people” are like. We might be wrong, but it doesn’t stop us from cherry picking facts to confirm our biased beliefs or ignoring facts that contradict our theories.

Confirmation bias and tunnel vision can ruin relationships, reputations, distort truth, and keep us stuck in a spin cycle of falsehood and self-delusion. It may also cost people their freedom.

Slowing down, sitting with ourselves in silence, and engaging in an honest self-examination helps. We might even need to realign certain ways we have of looking at ourselves and the world. Looking for truth can be hard because we may discover we are wrong. That discovery, however, might lead us to a truth that sets us (or an accused person) free.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

Who watches the watchmen?

Who watches the store? was the concern of the founders. They deeply distrusted Executive power, meaning the power of the executive branch, whether at the national, state, or local level. This was a concern not only because of their direct experience with the British Crown, but also the result of the their extensive understanding of philosophy, morality, and human nature.

Their concern about centralized authority gave birth to the Fourth Amendment of the Constitution, which limits government intrusion into the life of citizens, such as in government searches (of persons and properties).

Keeping it local keeps it accountable (mostly)

The expectation of the founders was to keep law enforcement largely local. They did not trust federal-level police powers. Although these powers have been on the rise in recent decades, most police powers continue to reside at the state and local level.

Local power was to be the norm. It included the Sheriff at the county level, a constable at the town level, the court, and juries, and sometimes night watchmen. The right to a trial of one’s peers and juries kept control of criminal justice and outcomes largely in the hands of local citizens.

An important recurring theme that flows from the vision of the American founding is that no single institution should possess all coercive power. Power was to be fragmented. This was intentional.

Legislatures make laws (which can be challenged and decided in higher courts), courts issue warrants on satisfactory probable cause, juries review facts and determine guilt and innocence, and sheriffs execute orders with the clearance of the court. Moreover, citizens participate in governance, holding authorities accountable.

The rise of massive police forces

The founders’ vision began to unravel in the early 19th century. Rapid urbanization and growing cities brought big challenges to law and order. Immigration, growing cities, labor unrest, riots, general disorder, organized crime, all contributed to making the old model insufficient to maintain public order and safety for citizens.

New York City formed a modern police department in 1844-45. Boston and Philadelphia formed their own in 1854, and Chicago in 1855. Ironically, these police departments were largely modeled after the London Metropolitan Police Department.

Trade-offs

Citizens want to be safe. To accomplish this in concentrated populations, during civil unrest, persistent crime, and disorder, centralized police forces were needed. The old system proved insufficient.

Concentrated power, which tends to be less accountable because of its distance from citizens, is the trade-off. More safety has meant less transparency and accountability in policing, especially in larger cities. Citizens and the press continue to monitor and try to hold the system accountable, but large law enforcement operations are often practically impermeable.

The resulting system and founding questions

Criminal justice today consists of large and powerful systems with many layers. These include law enforcement with well-funded investigators, prosecutors with massive powers, and a system tilted toward assuming reasonable suspicion, probable cause, and guilt. The government side is well-funded. The accused side is not.

The founders would likely ask a key question: what checks exist to control this concentrated power (and money)? Are they effective? Are citizens being protected from centralized government authority? How? Is it enough?

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

This newsletter focuses on power, crime, and ethics, especially in preserving liberty and human dignity. The founders of our nation cared deeply about the topic of restraining power and preserving individual liberty.

It is important to reflect on the necessary role of law enforcement in civil society. We hold the need for authority in maintaining a well-ordered republic and the need to restrain and hold that authority accountable in tension.

Facing the human condition

Men and women in law enforcement face danger every day. Imagine the uncertainty of every call? Imagine wondering if this is the call where you’re shot at or die?

I have never worked in law enforcement. I work as a criminal defense investigator and have watched hours of bodycam and surveillance videos, listened to interrogations and forensic interviews, read citations and medical records, examine autopsies, crime scenes, and other evidence. I have seen a lot of what officers encounter, from the “mundane” to the most violent and traumatizing situations.

Regularly encountering the dark side of human nature comes at a cost. Traumatic stress is one possibility. Becoming cynical, even hardened, toward fellow human beings could be a worst case cost. After all, compassion fatigue is real.

Processing traumatic experiences, not losing hope, and keeping perspective is essential to maintaining a deep sense of service to the community. Without an outlet, such as faith, family, or friends, police duties in the face of danger can wear a person down.

Accountability and respect

The Oath of Office for a police officer (and other public officials) in Kentucky includes the following:

“I do solemnly swear that I will support the Constitution of the United States and the Constitution of this Commonwealth, and be faithful and true to the Commonwealth of Kentucky…” (from kycourts.gov).

The Constitution of the United States (and the Commonwealth) is, in part, the framework by which we evaluate the actions of public officials and hold them accountable. An ethic rooted in the dignity of every human person must also undergird public service. We need to look at both national founding principles and ethics to evaluate the actions of law enforcement and public officials.

Coming up

On Saturday we will explore how confirmation bias unfolds in a police investigations and how it can impact justice.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and ethics to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

Crime “news”

“Police state that after an extensive investigation, Jon Doe was arrested for shaking his newborn baby to death.

Chief Jones said they are confident in the results of the investigation. Doe’s girlfriend said he frequently gets angry but never thought he could murder her baby. ‘I am horrified,’ she said. ‘I hope he gets everything he deserves.’

John Doe’s mugshot is shown multiple times during the news report.

The news article continues with the opinion of the community. “‘If he killed a baby, he should die. Shake him to death,’ said a neighbor who wished to remain anonymous.”

“Mr. Doe’s attorney, Jane Smith, insists her client is innocent of this accusation: ‘Once the facts of the case emerge, Mr. Doe will be declared not guilty.’”

“The baby’s grandmother stated, ‘How can that woman defend a monster?’”

Exciting stories and polluted justice

Most crime shows appeal to passion. They distort how many people view law and order and crime and punishment. They rely on sensationalism and one-sided narratives to sell stories. It works.

Defense and innocence are boring, right? If storytellers focused on the necessary process of justice, including the presumption of innocence, viewership might suffer. Stopping monsters is cathartic and reassuring. Therefore, most stories about crime focus on fighting monsters, meting out punishment, and the plight of victims.

There are two big problems with storylines portraying the accused as guilty monsters staring down sure and harsh judgment.

First, people are sometimes not guilty of the crimes for which they have been accused. Other times they are overcharged. Prosecutors are in the habit of piling on the charges to convince an accused person to take a plea. The fear of losing a trial and facing much longer prison time often seems too risky, so most people accept a plea deal, even if they are not guilty (this will be the topic of a future article).

Second, the monster storyline undermines our free Republic. Our system was designed to both restrain the abuse of power and to protect the accused.

Power and corruption of justice

The United States was founded largely in response to abuses of power. The British Crown operated as a totalitarian monarchy, imposing laws and enforcement without the consent of the populace. Laws rigging the criminal justice system was a trigger for the Revolutionary War.

The most notable example of this rigging occurred in 1774. In response to the Boston Tea Party, British authorities passed the Coercive Acts, called the Intolerable Acts by the Colonies. Two of the four Acts speak to how criminal justice was corrupted by British authorities and weaponized against colonists.

First, the Massachusetts Government Act allowed sheriffs to choose jurors. This undermined impartiality of the judicial system. Jurors act as a kind of fourth branch of government, a topic I will address in a later piece.

Second, the Act for the Impartial Administration of Justice (a misnomer) allowed a governor (British Authority) to move a trial to another jurisdiction or to Great Britain. This Act obliterated the opportunity to receive a fair trial by a jury of one’s peers.

The founders and power

The founders of the United States largely distrusted power and were propelled into action by the Intolerable Acts. The First Continental Congress was convened that same year, in 1774.

The founders were not only concerned about ordinary crime, but about government power. The Crown was exercising arbitrary power over the people of the Colonies.

The U.S. Constitution reflects a distrust of concentrated power in the hands of government officials. The framers of the Constitution were familiar with the thought of classical writers, like Aristotle and Cicero, and modern works of political philosophy and ethics, like Locke and Hobbes.

Aristotle, the great classical ethicist and political philosopher, asked a critical question: Is power exercised according to law rather than passion? The exercise of reason should prevail over raw outrage.

The founders set up a Republic meant to restrain passion and increase reason in law and governance. Passion watches a crime related news program and screams, “Hang him.” Reason watches the same program and asks, “What are the facts of the case? Is it true?”

Do unto others

For reason to prevail over passion, each of us needs to ask some difficult questions. If you or a loved one were accused of a crime, how would you want the process to play out?

• Would you want the state to name and shame you on their social media pages before you even had a chance to defend yourself?

• Would you want the news media to report the police’s press release about your arrest and charges and be forever memorialized on the Internet?

• Would you want your mugshot paraded around the Internet?

• Would you want the obligatory condemnatory outrage on social media and elsewhere?

• Would you want a prosecution that essentially threatens you with higher charges for considering a jury trial (being penalized for exercising your constitutional right)?

• Would you want jurors who may have been influenced by one-sided news coverage and crime shows?

I imagine the answer to these questions is a resounding, “No” for you. But if a lopsided process is good enough for those other people what makes us think it would be different for us or our loved ones?

Countering the current narrative

Future articles will tackle the reality of what is happening, often the inner workings few people hear about. I will analyze them from the perspective ethics and the American founding principles. No “true crime” sensationalism. I am interested in truth and justice.

Subscribe and don’t miss a story.

For more on the Intolerable Acts, check out: https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/the-coercive-intolerable-acts-of-1774

About the Author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, culture, and human nature to help readers apply ethical principles and historical perspective to pressing modern problems.

[Disclaimer: This article is not intended as legal advice.]

When mere driving becomes “reasonable suspicion”

It’s 10:00 P.M. You leave a local bar and grill after having dinner with friends. You are completely sober after having only one beer over three hours. You just want to get home.

You start your old car and pull onto the road. Low-level anxiety kicks in when you look in the rearview mirror. A police cruiser is following you.

You make a turn. The cruiser makes a turn. You make another. They keep pace. When the blue lights flash, it isn’t because you committed a crime; it’s because in a system with too many laws, the state is never short of reasons to stop you. “You swerved in your lane,” the deputy says to you when he reaches your car.

Police only need a low-threshold called “reasonable suspicion” to stop a driver, which is where “swerving in your lane,” a license plate light being out, and the like, are intended to increase opportunities for stops to look for bigger crimes.

The 20-minute ordeal of anxiety, questioning, a breathalyzer, and wasted time are not random bad luck. It is how modern governmental authority exerts power over the individual.

When laws become too numerous, even absurd, innocence ceases to be a legal shield. Your everyday rights to be “left alone” become the sacrifice for “safety” and “order.”

Endless laws; endless opportunities

The old legal maxim “ignorance of the law is no excuse” seems absurd considering the massive number of laws and ordinances, in the thousands in most states and the tens or hundreds of thousands at the federal level. The state tells citizens they must be familiar with all these laws. The advantage clearly rests with the state.

The multiplication of laws is intended to give police reasonable suspicion for stops and probable cause for arrests. Those in power, even if well-intentioned, can easily become overzealous when they are armed with this kind of authority. The multiplication of laws, which an average citizen cannot possibly memorize, gives law enforcement, prosecutors and judges incredible power over citizens.

In one jurisdiction where I lived bicyclists were routinely stopped by police in broad daylight for not having a bike light attached to their bikes. Often, the police are looking for something else, and the lack of a bicycle light gives them a reason to stop, ask, and look.

Safety vs. liberty

Thomas Hobbes, a political philosopher, argued that citizens surrender absolute freedom to a sovereign in exchange for safety and order. The example of the bicyclist reveals a mutation of the Hobbesian contract. The state has manufactured pretexts that violate the rights of innocent individuals to seek out higher-level wrong doing.

The bicycle light stop enables an identification check, a smell test for alcohol, observation for drug paraphernalia, and the like. Innocent bicyclists end up being harrassed by the state’s dragnet.

John Locke argued that government exists to protect our natural rights of life, liberty, and property. The framers of the U.S. Constitution gravitated toward Locke. Being caught up in a dragnet of laws is not protecting liberty; it is consuming it.

Many of us are willing to sacrifice the least amount of liberty necessary to attain safety and order. The temptation of state power, however, is to gradually expand itself and erode liberty. Citizens, too, are tempted to clamor for more laws as the fear of crime rises.

Crime, power, and ethics

In subsequent articles 1690 Media will investigate and analyze a wide range of cases and issues involving crime, power, and ethics. We will tell stories, unpack policy, and contextualize with historical precedents.

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J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about culture, crime, and human nature to help readers navigate modern problems through historical perspective and first principles.

1690 Media was founded in the spirit of free speech to publish investigations into crime, power, and ethics. Historical precedent is used to contextualize the analyses.

Along the way, I took a detour. I started writing pieces on healthcare, aligning with my healthcare expertise. There was a problem with that pivot: It lacked the systemic fire that drives my work and passion.

Returning to our origins with greater determination.

1690 Media is returning to its original mandate. We are providing rigorous, historically grounded, investigative analysis of current affairs, especially crime and punishment. There will be no crime voyeurism or sensationalism, but rather factual, pointed discussion.

We will return to publishing weekly beginning Tuesday, June 2, 2026 (after Memorial Day). We will also soon incorporate video briefings, as well.

Thank you to subscribers who have been here since day one (and a special thank you to my two paid subscribers).

J. Steven Bromwich

Founder, 1690 Media

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal defense investigator and ethicist, with advanced training in history and diplomatic studies. He writes about crime, power, and human nature to help readers navigate current events through historical perspective and first principles.

Separation of powers protects the Republic

Separation of powers is crucial to avoid tyranny. The founders of our nation articulated this principle clearly.

To achieve their agendas (or for revenge) popular presidents are often tempted to pressure members of Congress to support their agendas, including by inserting their influence in congressional and gubernatorial elections. This overreach frequently backfires.

The Chief Executive commands the military and enforces laws enacted by the legislature, among other federal and international roles. Their power is limited by both the legislative and judicial branches of government.

Members of the legislative branch represent the interests of their districts, the local citizens, in Washington, D.C. They debate and enact legislation according to the needs of the citizens they represent balanced with what is best for the nation. Their power is limited by both the Executive and Judicial branches of government.

This is obviously an oversimplification and more can be read on this topic elsewhere, including at the National Constitution Center. The critical point here is to understand that the separation of powers exists for a reason and that it is important to stay in one’s constitutional lane. This restraint helps foster a healthy Republic.

Politics and power follow a pattern

In 1938 Franklin D. Roosevelt was frustrated with conservative Democrats, mainly Southern Democrats. They were opposing too much of his later New Deal legislation. He sought to politically eliminate this opposition. He wanted loyalists in Congress.

FDR did something almost unprecedented at the time. He hit the campaign trail, actively campaigning against representatives and senators across the nation who had opposed him. The media at the time called FDR’s efforts “The Great Purge.”

It backfired. Voters resented his interference in local politics. Nearly all those he campaigned against were re-elected.

Andrew Jackson, beginning in 1829, employed a “spoils systems,” whereas loyalist to his agenda were rewarded with federal jobs and money. This is not so uncommon today.

Abraham Lincoln not only demanded total loyalty from republicans during the Civil War, he enforced it through arrests of political dissidents, including from the opposing party. He wanted unity in the war effort.

Most notably, Lincoln had Ohio Democratic Congressman Clement Vallandigham arrested for opposing the Civil War. In the speech that led to his arrest he called the war wicked and cruel and labelled Lincoln a tyrant. He was convicted by a military tribunal. Lincoln commuted the sentence to avoid making him a political martyr, but then exiled him to the confederacy.

Lincoln also had members of the press, state legislators, and an estimated 13,000 to 38,000 citizens (experts disagree on an exact number) arrested or detained without adequate due process. Some were likely justified arrests, but the process of unilaterally suspending Constitutional rights, such as the writ of habeas corpus (the government must justify detainment before a court), was not.

Woodrow Wilson encouraged the American people to only vote for Democrats who supported WWI and his international agenda. It backfired. Republicans won both houses.

Power and party

Today, there are important differences in how party politics works. Congressional districts are less competitive due to re-drawing districts and demographic re-alignments that began in the 1960s and accelerated during the 1990s and beyond. The resulting lack of competition due to homogenous electorates reduced the electoral consequences of Executive involvement in local primary elections. Consequences may still be realized at the general election level.

Power dynamics and human nature have not changed. The demand for loyalty and attempts to defeat opposition endure. Expressing disapproval for a position or vote is expected, even necessary, but scorched earth politics, especially outside one’s lane, is injurious to a democratic republic.

Resources

https://constitutioncenter.org/

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is a criminal investigator, ethicist, and historian. He investigates and analyzes crime, power, and morality.

Oil and fertilizers

Agriculture, both domestically and globally, utilizes synthetic fertilizers. Crop yields are directly tied to fertilizer use. Urea, ammonium nitrate, and ammonium sulfate are examples of fertilizers that are intricately tied to oil and gas, both in their production and transportation costs.

The production of these synthetic nutrients requires intense use of fossil fuels. Thus, when oil and gas prices spike, so do food prices. One-third of the global fertilizer trade transits through the Strait of Hormuz. The war with Iran is having a direct impact on fertilizer and food, and thus farmers and consumers.

In April 2026, the retail price of urea jumped 27%. As a result, some farmers in poorer regions of the world are using less fertilizer on their crops, which will translate to lower yields. The downstream effect of this will be significant.

Oil and food crises

Spikes in oil and gas prices are having a direct impact on the cost of fertilizer production and transportation. These impacts will be delayed, perhaps by 6 - 12 months, but are inevitable due to the convergence of the price increases and the planting season.

Although the United States’ consumer will be affected, the price of oil and fertilizers will have a more profound impact on poorer nations and regions. Why?

The data on inflation and hunger

Food inflation impacts everyone to some extent. The poorer the individual or family the greater the impact because of the percentage of one’s budget that is used to purchase food. In countries that experience severe poverty, food inflation is devastating, not only because the people have no budgetary leeway, but also because there are few if any safety nets.

In the United States approximately 13-14% of household spending is allocated for food. In low-income nations, it is much higher. For example, in Nigeria, the average household spends nearly 60% of its household spending on food. People in Kenya and Pakistan spend 40% of their household income on food. If a low-income household spends 50% of their budget on food, a 20% increase in food prices swallows an additional 10% of their annual income.

Historical comparison

The world experienced an oil crisis beginning in October 1973 as a result in the OPEC oil embargo. Oil prices jumped over 300% in 90 days, from 2.90 per barrel in October 1973 to 11.65 per barrel in January 1974. (2.90 in 1973 would be the equivalent of about 23.00 today). This surge in oil prices resulted in an 180% increase in fertilizer prices, while total agricultural production costs rose by 25%.

Harvests already facing pressure from droughts were impacted by these prices. For example, Ethiopia and the Sahel in Africa experienced a devastating famine from 1973-1975. The compounding challenges led to disaster in the poorest regions.

Farming, oil, and hunger in 2026

Prior to the war with Iran oil was selling at approximately 70.00 per barrel. Since the war began, its price has ranged from about 100.00 per barrel to 126.00 per barrel, the latter figure representing an 80% increase from its baseline.

Domestically, this surge has translated to a nearly 50% increase in gas prices at the pump. Globally, it has caused an 85% spike in urea prices (fertilizer impact). As of this writing, fertilizer prices have not recovered.

It would not be accurate to tie hunger and oil directly together in all situations. There are other factors that impact hunger, such as conflict and drought, as mentioned earlier. Nonetheless, in many nations, oil and fertilizer prices are direct drivers of hunger.

Ethiopia, which imports 90% of its nitrogen fertilizer, mostly from the Gulf, is at a crisis level of prices and shortages. Small-scale farmers are priced out of the market.

In Somalia, 6.5 million people are now at crisis-level food insecurity. This is a direct result of energy costs driving up the cost of transport, milling, and water.

In Vietnam and Thailand many rice farmers have delayed planting. They are 90% dependent on urea imports. They are expecting the cost of rice production to exceed sales revenue, which will have negative downstream impacts.

Irrigation and milling have been crippled in Myanmar due to a 160% spike in diesel prices. Myanmar is one of the most at-risk food systems in Southeast Asia.

The Philippines imports nearly 75% of its rice from Vietnam and Thailand. On top of its already 6% food inflation, the downstream effect could be significant.

Global hunger impacts the United States

Domestic inflation, effects on small farmers, and food insecurity are threats to families and our economic well-being. Global hunger and unrest also pose a risk, as these can spark domestic conflicts that have far-reaching implications.

I will continue this analysis in the next newsletter but will present a brief taste of how these events can unfold. The so-called “Arab Spring” in 2011 was partly triggered by high oil prices in 2010 (110.00 per barrel), and increases in food prices. This was a contributing catalyst. Drought in Russia and Russia’s ban on grain exports contributed to food insecurity and unaffordability.

Food prices spiked in 2011. In Egypt, bread prices increased by 37% and protestors chanted, “Bread, freedom, and social justice.” Hunger-driven unrest (on top of other factors) toppled the Mubarak regime in Egypt and triggered the Syrian civil war.

Vacuums demand to be filled. In Syria, ISIS seized territory, unrest and crackdowns grew. The United States entered this conflict in 2014.

Sources used for this article:

· UN FAO (Food and Agriculture Organization), including their Food Price Index

· UN WFP (World Food Programme)

· The World Bank Food Security Update

· USDA Economic Research Service

· Federal Reserve History

· U.S. Department of Energy

J. Steven Bromwich founded 1690 Media. He is a criminal investigator, ethicist, and RN. He studied international conflict intervention at the Patterson School of Diplomacy at the University of Kentucky and has served in both overseas and domestic humanitarian relief missions.

Would you feed and treat an enemy soldier? How would you feel about feeding and caring for someone who fought for your enslavement?

A slave city converted to a massive Union hospital

Paducah, Kentucky, in McCracken County, is in Western Kentucky, bordering Illinois, Missouri, and Tennessee. The town was built around slaveholding. McCracken County had nearly 400 slaveholders and approximately 1700 slaves in 1861. It was a major port city built by slaveholders for moving crops and slaves via the river system.

General Ulysses Grant occupied Paducah in September 1861 and seized control of the city and the U.S. Marine Hospital. Paducah was strategic because of its location on the Tennessee, Ohio, and Mississippi Rivers and its established ports. After the Union gained control, the city became both a supply line and a medical site.

The new reality was volatile. A slaveholding town was now under Union command. Slaves from both Paducah and surrounding counties escaped and ran to Union lines for freedom and protection. The Union provided protection, food, and shelter, and in exchange required their help in the war effort in Paducah.

Providing care for the enemy

The U.S. Marine Hospital in Paducah quickly became overwhelmed by the massive influx of wounded. The wounded and sick needed rapid transport and places to be treated.

Pews were removed from Churches to convert the sanctuaries into wards. Warehouses and government buildings were seized to care for the wounded. The Union seized and converted large homes, many owned by slaveowners, into hospitals. Some private homeowners welcomed wounded soldiers. Many untrained people fed, washed soldiers’ clothing and linens, and changed dressings.

Predictably, there was controversy beyond the Union occupation. Union soldiers and sympathizers questioned why scarce resources should be used to treat the enemy. Union military authorities ordered that all wounded, regardless of affiliation, be treated.

To codify these standards President Lincoln issued “General Orders No. 100,” often called the Lieber Code named for its author, Francis Lieber. It became a template for international codes of conduct during war.

Formerly enslaved care for wounded confederate soldiers

The logistics of handling a constant crisis meant that personnel needs took priority over sensitivities. Union authorities assigned nursing care and other ancillary work needed, even if it meant the enslaved had contact with Confederate wounded.

Confederate soldiers were kept in separate wards. Trained military nurses or white volunteers were often assigned to provide more intimate bedside care to confederate wounded. This was likely to reduce discomfort and tensions, perhaps even to prevent violence. According to Union diaries, Confederate soldiers were often heard insulting black workers. It was likely a jarring inversion to find oneself suddenly vulnerable and dependent on the very people you were fighting to keep enslaved.

The challenge of caring in contemporary healthcare

Providing relief to suffering human beings is not always a clean affair. Physicians and nurses often find themselves having to care for inmates, suspects the police have arrested, people addicted to drugs, and others. It could mean we find ourselves in a situation having to provide care and comfort to the people we most despise.

Looking beyond the hatred for enemies and to the humanity of each individual before us is challenging, sometimes seemingly impossible. Finding a way to love them for no other reason than they are human like me, flaws and all, is the key to human flourishing and peace.

Sources

For more on the topics of medicine during the Civil War, including hospital ships:

Western Sanitary Commission. Report of the Western Sanitary Commission: On the White Union Refugees of the South. St. Louis: R.P. Studley and Co., 1864.

U.S. War Department. The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies (Series I, Vol. VII & X). Washington: Government Printing Office.

J. Steven Bromwich founded 1690 Media to explore the soul of healthcare. He tells the stories of heroes and villains of historical healthcare, connecting these moral lessons to modern medicine. He is a bioethicist, criminal investigator, and RN.

After a lengthy wait, the request is inexplicably denied. After some investigation, the generals and engineers are shocked to learn that a special interest group, the Wagon Wheel Trade Organization (fictitious dramatization!), has managed to kill the request because it would hurt sales of wagon wheels and parts.

Although this scenario is fictitious, powerful special interests are often a real and present danger in many areas of public life, including healthcare. If this had actually happened during the civil war, many more lives would have been lost.

Defeat leads to opportunity

The leaders of Confederate troops on the Mississippi River had a choice to make, be captured by Union forces or abandon and burn their vessel. They burned their vessel.

The Battle of Island Number 10 (the Kentucky bend on the Mississippi River) ended in defeat for Confederate forces on April 8, 1862. It also left a charred ship. The timing could not have been better for the Union.

Transporting the wounded

The Battle of Fort Donelson in February 1862 resulted in thousands of wounded on the Kentucky-Tennessee border. They needed to be moved off the battlefield and to hospitals to receive professional care and hope to live. Transporting them by wagon over land was difficult, took time, and would likely result in more deaths or permanent disabilities.

The nearby Cumberland River provided an answer. The federal government leased private steamboats to transport the wounded along the river systems to Cairo and Mound City, Illinois, and sometimes other points north.

An estimated 15-25 commercial steamboats were jammed with the battle wounded. Although it resulted in more rapid transport, it was a disaster. Wounded soldiers were everywhere: decks, cabins, improvised bedding. The boats were not equipped to provide medical care, only transport. With overcrowding, lack of sanitation and medical care, many soldiers became sick and died before reaching a hospital.

The Battle of Shiloh in April 1862 resulted in even more casualties. The battle was near Pittsburgh Landing on the Tennessee River in southwestern Tennessee. It is important to note that the Tennessee empties into the Ohio River only miles from the Mississippi.

Steamboats were again used to transport the wounded, but with similar results to Fort Donelson. Not only were the wounded dying on the battlefield, but also during transport. The rivers often became clogged, delaying medical care for the wounded by days, even as long as a week.

Innovation in medical transport is born

In April 1862, Union leaders decided to convert the charred hull of the Confederate vessel into a hospital ship. It was outfitted not only to transport wounded, but also to treat them. It was commissioned in December 1862. From idea of transforming a burnt ship into a state-of-the-art medical facility to a functioning floating hospital took only eight months.

The USS Red Rover

The Red Rover had separate wards for patients, ventilation systems for disease control, onboard laundry and other hygiene methods, along with ice storage for preserving food and medicine. In addition, this floating hospital had Navy surgeons, nurses, including the Sisters of the Holy Cross (Catholic sisters), and other workers to care for the sick and keep the ship clean.

Critically, the hospital ship was not just a transport method like the steamboats; it evacuated the wounded and treated them on the way to land-based medical facilities. The staff onboard was able to stabilize and treat gunshot wounds, amputations, and treatment of infectious diseases, such as dysentery, malaria, and typhoid, along with providing comfort.

By early 1863, the Red Rover was active along the Mississippi River during Union campaigns. Other floating hospitals were commissioned soon after. The Mississippi and its connecting waterways functioned as a well-oiled evacuation chain.

The Wagon Wheel Trade Organization

If a powerful special interest had intercepted the creation of floating hospitals because they would cost them market share, we may not have seen the developments during the Civil War, or they may have been too little, too late. Obviously, this is an exaggerated and imperfect example, but it is meant to make a point.

Perhaps they would have released a press statement resembling this:

“The wagon is a safe, proven, and effective form a transportation for the wounded. We care deeply for the wounded and their families, as well as the safety of medical personnel. A hospital ship is unproven and risky. There are too many unknowns.”

The next story will discuss the massive Civil War medical operation in Paducah, Kentucky, a strategic city at the intersection of the Mississippi, Ohio, and Tennessee Rivers.

J. Steven Bromwich founded 1690 Media to explore the soul of healthcare. He tells the stories of heroes and villains of historical healthcare, connecting these moral lessons to modern medicine. He is a bioethicist, criminal investigator, and RN.

Lucia[1], like too many children in 2010 post-earthquake Haiti, was orphaned. Buildings collapsed, injuries went untreated until help could arrive, and diseases spread. First responders dealt with death, destruction, treating the wounded, and helping people cope with loss and trauma. Many people lost nearly everything, including their families.

This was reality. The people of Haiti had to deal with a frightening reality, including an uncertain future. Most of them already suffered abject poverty, and the earthquake compounded their difficult lives.

First responders were confronted with concentrated misery on a scale many had never experienced. We used our physical and emotional skills the best we could to care for people in crisis.

An orphaned girl and the community

Lucia’s situation unfolded quickly. First, she was dropped off at our hospital, was alone at 6 or 7 years old, and needed medical treatment. I am not sure about her exact medical needs, but I believe she had head injuries from falling debris. She sat on a blanket hugging a stuffed animal someone had given her. At that moment it was everything to her.

She was evaluated by one of our pediatric nurses and a physician. By the time they had completed their evaluation, two women had arrived from the community and were sitting with her. We vetted them, and they were approved by our trusted local community leader. They were ladies from a local church. More women arrived. The girl was now being comforted and cared for by four or five women.

The power of trusted members of a local community cannot be overstated. Physicians, nurses, social workers, administrators, and chaplains can only do so much. The vulnerable sick need support from their local communities and churches. This is an important lesson for modern American healthcare, a system that has moved from community hospitals to corporate conglomerates. This will be the topic of a future article.

Organized compassion in chaos

Working as healthcare professionals in post-earthquake Haiti was a roller coaster of emotions for most of us. It was sometimes adrenaline driven, and always physically exhausting.

The hospital out of which we worked and the neighboring school we used as a triage center and spillover hospital were far enough away from the epicenter of the earthquake in Port-au-Prince that no damage was incurred. Shortly after arrival a few of us immediately got to work organizing a triage center, pharmacy, supply chain, staff duties and the like.

We knew that what was about to hit us required intricate organization, but also human resilience and compassion. This was made clear the moment we arrived from the airport. No sooner had we stepped out of the vehicles that someone yelled “incoming.” We had not even had a chance to unpack or change into scrubs when we were shown where to go (run) to meet the helicopters. Ready or not, more injured were arriving.

The U.S. Navy (primarily) flew helicopters with the wounded from Port-au-Prince to our hospital because we had an intact hospital and plans to open several hundred more beds. They landed on the soccer field down the bumpy dirt road from the hospital and triage center.

Those assigned to incoming helicopters ran out to the choppers with stretchers in hand to unload the injured. We then ran the patients secured on top of stretchers to the awaiting ambulances and loaded them on. As many as six wounded could fit into the ambulance truck stacked three high on each side. One or two of us rode with the patients on the ambulance to the triage center where they were unloaded, triaged, treated and/or prepped for surgery, often amputations. This process was repeated multiple times most days.

This did not feel like a job. It felt like a calling, a mission. We did not punch a clock. People needed care. Often the sound of an incoming chopper and “incoming” was our timeclock.

Healthcare is a calling, not just a job

If caring for the sick is merely a job, and healthcare is only a business enterprise, then those who are sick, elderly, and dying are commodities, objects we use to increase profit and market share. They cease being human beings. Moreover, if we treat human beings in need like objects we not only disrespect their dignity, but we also reduce our own. We will have missed an amazing opportunity.

The word compassion means “to suffer with.” This is a high and challenging calling. To suffer with someone requires much more than “resiliency,” a word often empty of real meaning. It requires a deep spiritual understanding of who we are and who we are meant to be as humans. It requires us to acknowledge a reality about being human: we have all been created in the image and likeness of God and share a common nature and a common purpose.

Even if a healthcare professional does not believe in God, it is possible to recognize that there is more that connects us as humans than mere flesh and blood. We are more than material beings. We long to love and be loved, to be connected to others, to be good and encounter goodness. These realities transcend materiality.

Many of us entered healthcare to connect with people in need on a deeper level than mere sick bodies. Those of us who went to Haiti did so because we had a deep desire to help suffering fellow human beings, to do good for them in their darkest moments.

Getting back to basics is the only way to reform healthcare

Few people would argue that healthcare in the United States needs reform. The situation is complicated and beyond the scope of this article to address it in its entirety (this is part of the purpose of this newsletter).

The foundational reform needed, however, is a human one. The vulnerable sick, elderly, and dying must be at the center of reform discussions. The calling of healthcare professionals needs to be discussed openly. Human dignity and compassion should be the foundations of every healthcare business model. If these are not at the center, we are engaged in exploitation, not healthcare.

J. Steven Bromwich founded 1690 Media to explore the soul of healthcare. He tells the stories of heroes and villains of historical healthcare, connecting these moral lessons to modern medicine. He is a bioethicist, criminal investigator, and RN.

[1] Names and details have been changed to protect privacy

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(Public domain image, 2010 Haiti).

Medicine at the heart of humanity

When she arrived unaccompanied on the back of a motorcycle we did not wonder why a six-year old was alone. It was 2010 Haiti. The effects of the disaster, including orphaned children, were widespread.

Children often survived while their parents were killed by the devastating earthquake that took the lives of over a quarter of a million people in Haiti, especially in and around the highly populated capital of Port-au-Prince.

Lucia (not her real name) was sitting on a blanket in our traige unit when I spotted her. She was hugging a stuffed animal. Now what?

I served as a first responder in post-earthquake Haiti as a nurse, administrator, and ethicist. The soul of healthcare was pulsating every minute of every day among our staff, patients, families, and the community surrounding the hospital.

In next week’s article I will unpack the story of this little girl and those who cared for her. The experiences are instructive.

J. Steven Bromwich founded 1690 Media to explore the soul of healthcare. He tells the stories of heroes and villains of historical healthcare, connecting these moral lessons to modern medicine. He is a bioethicist, criminal investigator, and RN.

Healthcare: saints and sinners

The soul of healthcare is service. It includes the stories of heroes and villains. These stories are inspiring, infuriating, thought-provoking, humbling, and even life-changing.

The stories that comprise this drama, both past and present, need to be told and recounted from the perspective of what it means to care for the sick, dying, disabled, and otherwise vulnerable human beings. Every one of us will encounter medicine. Hopefully, we are cared for by the heroes and saints, those who embrace the high calling of serving those needing care.

Why start with an article about silencing the freedom of speech?

Imagine you are a doctor, a researcher, or other healthcare professional. You have just discovered a new way to prevent or treat an otherwise intractable disease or infection. Your discovery, although effective, differs from current medical norms. This is amazing news and will be welcomed with enthusiasm by your professional colleagues, right? Maybe not.

What if your discovery threatened reputations, an existing financial pipeline, even the careers of your professional colleagues? You might encounter resistance. It is possible you would be silenced by not having your papers published, not receiving grants, perhaps being fired and blackballed from your profession. Even worse, your new discovery, a treatment that could save lives, may never reach those in need.

Don’t believe it? This has happened repeatedly throughout the history of medicine. Silencing, cancelling, name-calling, skewing algorithms happen today, as well. This kind of darkness, one that would crush lifesaving treatment in favor of personal gain, is a symptom of the darker side of human nature.

I named this publication “1690 Media” because without the freedom to speak and share our ideas, including the freedom to disagree with others, all other freedoms are threatened. In healthcare, the lack of freedom to share research results, debate the research of others, have open discussions, is dangerous. We all suffer. 1690 Media is named for the year Publick Occurrences was both published and shut down.

The first page of Publick Occurrences. Public domain. https://archive.org/details/publickoccurrenc1169unse/mode/2up

First American newspaper censored, cancelled, and destroyed

Publick Occurrences Both Forreign and Domestick, the first multi-page colonial publication in 1690 Massachusetts was cancelled by the government. Colonial authorities (the British Crown) disapproved of content that criticized the government, the British military, and tattled on royals. It only took colonial authorities four days to put an end to the newspaper.

Benjamin Harris first published Publick Occurrences on September 25, 1690, and was officially banned and shuttered on September 29, 1690. Authorities ordered the destruction of every copy. None survive except one currently located at the British Library.

This did not stop Harris, a publisher and tireless supporter of free expression and free press. He forged ahead despite official government opposition. In addition to coffee house gatherings, Harris went on to print and circulate content for the public in the form of discreet fliers. He did not, however, attempt to publish another newspaper in the colonies.

Is it “free” if it is censored or needs government approval?

In 1704 the Boston News-Letter became the first continuously published newspaper, but at a price. John Campbell, its publisher, obtained government approval. The front page prominently displayed, “Published by Authority.”

If a media outlet needs government approval to publish content with its materials passing through a censor, is it free? Are we free people if information about public affairs has been scrubbed by a government bureaucrat before we see it, meaning vital information is missing? Do government authorities have the right to terminate a publication’s existence (or cancel a writer) even if it publishes unsubstantiated rumors, inaccurate content, or content that opposes official government positions? What if government uses proxies, like tech companies, to limit speech?

The First Amendment of the United States Constitution, ratified in 1791, resoundingly says, “no” to all these questions. The First Amendment exists to protect free speech from government oversight and threat.

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

About a century after the colonial authorities shut Benjamin Harris’ Publick Occurrences down, the founders put these forty-five words into law intended to protect the right to speak and publish freely without fear of government censorship and other consequences. It is likely the American founders knew of his newspaper and what government authorities did to it.

The need for objectivity and free expression is also true of medical and scientific organizations. This is not only part of the American way of life, but also the scientific method. Neither the government nor media organizations, including tech companies, should silence and censor medical science and debate.

Our Mission

The mission of 1690 Media is to tell both inspiring and disturbing stories of the heroes and villains of healthcare. There are magnificent achievements and monumental failures. There are people who gave up comfort, even their lives, to serve the sick and suffering. There are others who gave up the sick and suffering to serve their own greed.

Subscribe and never miss a new story! A new story will be published every Monday.

For more details on Publick Occurrences Forreign and Domestik see https://www.history.com/articles/first-colonial-american-newspaper-1690

J. Steven Bromwich founded 1690 Media to explore the soul of healthcare. He tells the stories of heroes and villains of historical healthcare, connecting these moral lessons to modern medicine. He is an ethicist, criminal investigator, and RN.

Targets of public health

Between 1965 and 1975 Native American women of child-bearing age were targeted for mass sterilization by federal and local public officials, with the Indian Health Service (IHS) as the central agency involved. They had the cooperation of many local doctors and hospitals. For example, just between 1973 and 1976, 3,406 Native American women were sterilized by IHS facilities. (Government Accountability Office 1976 investigation).

Why target these women? Some scholars argue that federal officials sought sterilization to reduce poverty and long-term dependency. (Lawrence, Jane. 2000. “The Indian Health Service and the Sterilization of Native American Women,” American Indian Quarterly 24(3): 400–419).

The sterilization of Native American women was the continuation of the eugenics movement of the previous 50 years, a movement that some argue continues today. The eugenics movement sought to “improve” the population, the gene pool, if you will, by reducing “less desirable” humans while increasing those who had more desirable traits. (Stern, Alexandra Minna. Eugenic Nation, 2005).

State laws around the nation, beginning with Indiana in 1907, began forced and coerced sterilization as one means of achieving these public health goals. Federal sterilization abuses led to new consent regulations in 1978 that legally ended widespread coercive sterilization practices. (HEW sterilization regulations, 1978).

Estimates vary widely; some activists and researchers suggested rates as high as 25–50% of child-bearing age women were sterilized without consent, either through coercion or without their knowledge during other procedures.

AI could make eugenics programs more efficient and devastating

AI acts as a force multiplier for the intent of its users. AI is not a moral agent. It augments the moral agency of those who design and deploy it.

The intent of many public health officials in the 1960s and 1970s was unethical, violating well-established medical consent standards and targeting a vulnerable population despite contemporaneous objections and regulatory requirements. By the time these sterilizations were occurring, the principles of voluntary informed consent had already been firmly established in international medical ethics through the Nuremberg Code and the 1964 Declaration of Helsinki.

If public health officials in 1965 had access to AI tools how might the eugenics program against these women have been different? I argue it would have been more efficient and more devastating for the women and communities being targeted because those utilizing such tools were already violating established ethical and regulatory norms intended to protect the rights of these women.

Predictive targeting: AI algorithms

AI algorithms could have been used to scan medical records and census data to flag women who met specific socio-economic criteria (e.g., those with multiple children or receiving federal aid). This would have significantly scaled the eugenics process.

The 1970 Family Planning Services and Population Research Act (Title X) expanded federal funding for family planning services, including sterilization, which increased access to the procedure through Medicaid and IHS. Federal reimbursement made sterilization financially feasible for providers and institutions. In the context of Native American women and eugenics, this could have incentivized providers and health facilities to perform more sterilizations.

Algorithmic bias and dehumanization

Data in the 1960s was often filtered through a lens of poverty as a pathology. The intellectual foundation underpinning this lens was the “Culture of Poverty” theory, popularized by anthropologist Oscar Lewis in his 1961 book The Children of Sánchez. The theory effectively blamed poor people and poor families for poverty. Through this lens poverty is a moral and hereditary failure. (Lewis, O. 1966. The Culture of Poverty. Scientific American, 215(4), 19-25).

An AI model trained on such biased data and supported by this underlying belief-system would have scored Native American communities as high-cost or unfit. With the “scientific” evidence justifying forced sterilization as a cost-saving measure for the government and a good for society, an AI governance team would likely give the model a green light for deployment.

“The common good” is language that repeatedly emerges to justify unethical practices. This language suggests that it is ethical, even obligatory, to sacrifice the rights and health of certain individuals, even entire communities, for the good of the larger society.

Why waste resources on the hopeless poor, the reasoning goes, when that money can be spent on programs for people who will be productive members of society? If we must sterilize thousands of women for the good of millions, then so be it. The “common good,” otherwise known as utilitarian ethics, is not a relic of the past, it is a staple of ethical reasoning today.

The efficiency algorithm

Federal agencies like HEW (Health, Education, and Welfare) could have used predictive modeling to estimate long-term fiscal burdens associated with poverty. AI would have generated a “Sterilization Priority List,” identifying women for forced sterilization based on their projected cost to taxpayers.

Federal funds could then be used to reward those who meet and exceed performance targets and punish those who do not. The coerced sterilization of Native American women could then have become an optimized business objective.

Value-based eugenics

In contemporary healthcare, “value-based care” is meant to communicate the prioritization of patient outcomes, but it often translates to minimizing high-cost patients. (My previous article on Predictive Mortality Tools highlights one method used to minimize costs).

AI excels at risk stratification. In this case study’s overlay, the AI would identify Native American women not just by race, but by predicted lifetime cost. If the algorithm determines that a specific demographic has a high probability of chronic illness (often due to poverty), it will flag sterilization as the most cost-effective clinical intervention to prevent future high-cost dependents.

If a private healthcare contractor managed IHS facilities, their AI would optimize for “throughput.” Short procedural interventions are typically reimbursed more per encounter than longitudinal primary care. The AI would create productivity dashboards for doctors, pushing them to “convert” patients to permanent procedures to meet quarterly financial targets.

The ethics of AI depends on the ethics of humans

This article has highlighted how artificial intelligence would have likely amplified the unethical sterilization practices carried out against Native American women in the 1960s and 1970s. AI does not manufacture injustice, but it can scale the intentions of those who design and deploy it. AI can transform ethical violations into efficient and systematized abuses.

Although AI might have intensified these abuses, transparent systems and auditable data could also have helped whistleblowers, journalists, and investigators identify, quantify, and challenge the abuses earlier and more efficiently. This is dependent, however, on data and intent being transparent and accessible for scrutiny.

Those who design, implement, and oversee AI systems in healthcare and public policy must be grounded in medical and research ethics. Models optimized solely for efficiency, cost reduction, or productivity risk committing new historical injustices. Behind every dataset, prediction, and performance metric is a patient, a human being, whose dignity and rights must remain central to developers, caregivers and institutions.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is an RN, clinical ethicist, and investigator. With a background spanning bedside care, bioethics, and criminal investigation, he founded The Standard of Care Report to bring the dignity of patients and the vocation of caregiving to the foreground amid AI advances and the systemic challenges in healthcare.

Artificial intelligence in healthcare must be evaluated in light of fundamental principles about the human person. Among these, autonomy and informed consent are central.

A case study

Although fictional, this scenario is clinically routine in American ICUs. For this reason, you may recognize it. Neither the names nor the conditions are from a real patient.

Susan, a 73-year-old married woman, suffered a hemorrhagic stroke. She has been in the ICU for 5 days. Her husband, Joe, and two of her three children are present, praying and hoping she will recover.

The prognosis for hemorrhagic stroke is usually poor. There have been good signs in Susan’s case, however. Even though Susan is on the ventilator, she has begun “breathing over the vent,” which means she is breathing in a limited way on her own. Susan has started responding to stimuli.

The entire process is overwhelming for the family because it was so unexpected. Susan was healthy and active before the stroke.

The medical team arrives in Susan’s room. The neurologist tells the family that continuing medical treatment for the stroke is futile, and it is time to think about keeping her comfortable. He then introduces the topic of palliative care, but the family does not hear anything past “futile.”

Susan’s husband, Joe, asks, “Why? What has happened? She seems to be making progress.” This seems so sudden.

The doctor replies that her lab values, scans, and other metrics indicate no improvement and, in fact, may indicate she is declining. He then suggests making her a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). He also says palliative care will be in to discuss options with the family.

Mortality prediction tools are AI tools built into the electronic medical record. These tools “read” the patient’s medical data. They are frequently intended to prompt earlier goals-of-care conversations. Most clinicians use them thoughtfully and with good intentions. It is the experience of many clinicians in critical care that patients may suffer longer than necessary when the burdens caused by treatments outweigh the benefits.

The family is overwhelmed with grief and confusion. A short time later, the palliative care team arrives. They express care for the patient and family. They, too, explain that Susan’s care appears futile and explain what “comfort care” would mean for Susan.

Of data, doctors, and algorithms

On day five in the ICU an alert appeared in the corner of Susan’s electronic medical record (EMR). These alerts are based on what is sometimes referred to as a predictive mortality score or a prognostic score. They tell the medical team if a patient has a high chance of mortality in the next x amount of time (30 days, for example). Susan’s score indicates she has a high probability of death in the near term. The alert did not make the decision, but it shaped the frame through which the decision was discussed by the medical team.

The mortality prediction alert goes to the attending physician, the palliative care team, and others who need to know. The alert, if the mortality score is high, may also prompt the physician to change the plan of care.

The AI “learns” from large datasets of prior patients with similar diagnoses and clinical features. Using supervised learning methods, the model analyzes patterns between physiological variables and outcomes such as 30-day mortality.

It does not simply look for a small group of identical patients and calculate a percentage. Rather, it identifies statistical relationships across thousands of cases and applies those learned patterns to the current patient. Based on how Susan’s lab values, imaging, vital signs, age, and diagnoses align with those patterns, the system may generate a prediction, for example, a 90% estimated probability of death within 30 days.

This is a probabilistic forecast, not a certainty, and it depends heavily on the quality and representativeness of the data on which the model was trained.

Hospitals are expected to validate these tools against their own patient populations to improve accuracy and mitigate bias. Even well-validated models can suffer calibration drift when deployed in new clinical settings, meaning their predicted mortality risk may systematically overestimate or underestimate real-world outcomes.

Based on these data, the algorithm generates a mortality prediction for Susan and every other patient in the ICU. While datasets can be audited for bias, the models themselves are often proprietary, limiting transparency for both clinicians and patients. Even when the model is not proprietary, clinicians may not understand how it produces its estimate and therefore may be unable to explain it to families. This lack of explainability is not merely a technical limitation; it is an ethical concern.

Patient autonomy and the new paternalism

Medicine has a long history of paternalism. In recent decades it has been identified and attempts have been made to limit it. Paternalism essentially says, “I am the doctor and I know what’s best for you. You do not need to know the details of your illness or the treatments.” One especially troubling feature of this paternalism was the withholding of a terminal diagnosis from patients for “their own good.”

In more recent years, paternalism has become more institutionalized. The patient may be seen as just another data point in a huge sea of datasets. Put another way, patients can easily become commodities of large corporate health.

While autonomy is intrinsic to the human person, its central place in modern medical ethics developed in response to this history. Patients have a right to know the nature of their illness, the risks and benefits of proposed treatments, and the alternatives available to them, subject to rare exceptions. Over time, this commitment has reshaped medical practice: patients can access their medical records, seek second opinions, and participate meaningfully in decisions about their care.

When a prognostic recommendation originates in a model the patient cannot examine, and the clinician cannot explain, autonomy becomes procedural rather than substantive. The authority of the physician risks becoming derivative, borrowed from an opaque statistical system rather than grounded in clinical judgment.

These concerns intensify if a physician feels pressure, from institutional quality metrics, documentation expectations, or liability concern, to act on the AI prompt embedded in the medical record.

Restoring autonomy in the AI hospital

In moments like this, preparation matters. Difficult questions should be discussed in advance as a family and, when possible, written down before crisis arrives. Asking questions of the medical team is not confrontational; it is an exercise of informed consent.

“What information brought you to the conclusion that mom’s care is futile, especially considering the positive signs we have witnessed?” “Did an AI alert prompt you to recommend this new course of care?” “How did the AI arrive at that conclusion?” “Do you agree with it?” “Are there alternatives?”

Overcoming algorithm-mediated clinical authority requires making these systems explainable and accountable for the decisions they prompt. Clinical judgment must remain primary, not derivative.

To maintain robust patient autonomy and informed consent, AI alerts must be explainable. If patients are unaware that these systems are shaping recommendations behind the scenes, they cannot ask the right questions or meaningfully participate in decisions about their care. Autonomy will erode one alert at a time.

About the author

J. Steven Bromwich is an RN, clinical ethicist, and investigator. With a background spanning bedside care, bioethics, and criminal investigation, he founded The Standard of Care Report to bring the dignity of patients and the vocation of caregiving to the foreground amid AI advances and the systemic challenges in healthcare.

I started my nursing career in bone marrow transplant and oncology. In such high acuity and often high stakes practice areas, it is common to encounter patients who do not fit neatly into an average. Skilled nurses and physicians in such units develop a clinical intuition for medicine that doesn’t fit a recognizable pattern until hindsight illuminates it.

In my previous article, I looked at the tension between the utility of AI and the trust (or lack of trust) patients place in it. Today, I will take a look into the mechanics behind that trust, specifically, what happens when the math decides a patient is merely “noise.”

The tyranny of averages

Artificial Intelligence loves averages. It lives in the “mean.” In data science, outliers, or “edge cases,” (sometimes also called “tails”) are the data points that don’t make the cut. They are discarded to make the model cleaner.

But in healthcare, an “edge case” is a human being. It is the patient with the rare drug reaction, the one who survives a life-threatening diagnosis, or the person whose physiological markers are ignored because they don’t match the majority dataset.

Marketing brochures often boast 95% accuracy for healthcare AI. To an administrator, that sounds like a miracle. To a clinician, 95% accuracy can mean a 100% failure for the patient who doesn’t fit the mold. If an AI predicts “no complications” for every patient because complications only happen 5% of the time, the algorithm is statistically accurate but clinically unhelpful. This is called the accuracy paradox. It describes a model that has high accuracy but low sensitivity (the ability to detect the positive case). It misses the very thing it was hired to find.

This isn’t a theoretical concern; it is a documented clinical failure. An audit published by Wong et al. in JAMA Internal Medicine (2021) examined a widely used AI tool designed to predict sepsis, a leading cause of death in hospitals.

The tool claimed high accuracy. However, when independent researchers examined the patients who fell outside the dominant pattern, they found the AI failed to flag approximately two-thirds of those who went on to develop sepsis.

The model was considered “accurate” because it correctly identified the thousands of patients who remained healthy, but it was dangerously blind to the ones it missed. This is the accuracy paradox in action.
(Wong A, Otles E, Donnelly JP, et al. External Validation of a Widely Implemented Proprietary Sepsis Prediction Model in Hospitalized Patients. JAMA Intern Med. 2021;181(8):1065–1070. doi:10.1001/jamainternmed.2021.2626)

AI models are based on recognizable patterns

Machine learning models are trained to minimize “loss.” In plain terms, they are built to make the fewest mistakes across all patients.

When an algorithm must choose between a prediction that fits the majority and one that identifies a rare outlier, it usually favors the majority. That choice keeps the model’s overall accuracy score high. Statistically, betting on what happens most often is the safest move for the software, even when it means missing the patient who is different. In medicine, that can be a dangerous trade-off.

AI systems are essentially prediction machines trained on past data. They learn what “normal” looks like by finding repeating patterns in large groups of people. When a patient falls outside those patterns, perhaps because of a rare reaction, an unusual presentation, or a combination of factors the model has rarely seen, the AI tends to pull the prediction back toward what is most common. This isn’t because the patient is average, but because the model has learned far more about the middle than the margins.

The result is subtle but consequential: the further a patient is from the statistical norm, the less confident the system become, and the more likely their signal is treated as noise.

The cost of algorithmic erasure

AI needs thousands of data points to “learn” a pattern. While the “90%” provides a mountain of data, the edge cases may only contribute a neglible amount.

Imagine an AI trained to paint portraits. If asked to paint a family whose faces are scarred by a house fire, the model might fail. Because it was trained on “average” faces, it may not recognize the scarred faces and be unable to properly reproduce them.

In healthcare, this isn’t just a false portrait; it is algorithmic erasure. It erases essential realities about outlier patients. If the AI cannot see the exception, the healthcare system may fail to treat the exception. When the edges fall off, outlier patients can suffer.

Forensic reasoning for AI in healthcare: what clinicians must ask

This work is not an argument against artificial intelligence, nor is it driven by fear of technology. It is an exercise in clinical and forensic reasoning. When an algorithm enters patient care, the questions are the same ones clinicians ask at the bedside and investigators ask after harm occurs. What did the system see? What did it miss? Why did it miss it? And who bears responsibility when it does? AI holds real promise in medicine, but only if it is examined with the same rigor we expect of any other high-stakes clinical tool.

Reference: Wong et al., 2021

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About the Author

J. Steven Bromwich is an RN, clinical ethicist, and investigator. With a background spanning bedside care, bioethics, and criminal investigation, he founded The Standard of Care Report to bring the dignity of patients and the vocation of caregiving to the foreground amid AI advances and the systemic challenges in healthcare.