I’m starting to question my faith . . . in the excellent detectives of the New York Police Department as portrayed on the various Law & Orders.
Over the holidays, a lot of us got caught up in the Netflix series Making a Murderer, the story of accused Wisconsin murderer Steven Avery. **SPOILER ALERT** What follows contains spoilers from the documentary.
In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups: the police, who investigate (and sometimes fabricate) crime (planting evidence, contaminating the crime scene, coercing false confessions); and the district attorneys, who prosecute the offenders (in between sexting victims of domestic abuse and smirking at the camera every chance they get). These are their stories.
The show details the story of Steven Avery who was incarcerated for 18 years for a rape he didn’t commit. DNA evidence finally absolved him and resulted in his release, after which, he decided to sue the police department for their wrongful and seemingly systematic targeting and prosecution of him. The woman who falsely accused him described the police showing her pictures of Avery and telling her that this was the person who did it; this coaching helped create a false memory for her, resulting in her eye witness statements that he was her attacker. When the evidence showed that another man was responsible, she was so appalled at her role in jailing an innocent man, that she became involved in the Innocence Project, helping to overturn convictions of guilty men.
In a bizarre twist, with a $36 million law suit pending, Avery was arrested and charged in a new crime: the murder of Teresa Halbach, a local woman who went missing after visiting his home to take pictures for an auto sales magazine. Although the local police claimed to recuse themselves due to the obvious conflict of interest, turning the investigation over to a neighboring police team, they were subsequently given free and open access to all crime scenes and searches, and the key pieces of evidence were all coincidentally found by that same local police department. But the real nail in Avery’s coffin was the confession of his nephew and next door neighbor Brendan Dassey who gave horrific details of the rape and murder of Teresa Halbach and his participation in the crime side-by-side with his uncle.
The problem is, the confession didn’t match anything at the supposed crime scene. The interrogation, in which 16 year old Brendan had no parental or legal representation, was filled with coercion, false information, and pressure. His numerous denials were shut down, and he was given false evidence that he was guilty. Details were fed to Brendan, who is mentally slow and eager to please, and he anxiously kept feeding answers back until the detectives were “pleased” with his answers. Incapable of understanding the ramifications of his confession, Brendan actually asked if he could return to his next class to do his report that was due. As is usually the case whenever there is a confession, both he and Steven Avery were convicted.
The video of the confession was a classic example of the Reid Technique which is the most common interrogation technique used in the US, the same one used by our beloved Law & Order detectives.
The Reid Technique is hotly contested. In fact, most other western countries have abandoned it because it is notorious for resulting in false confessions. The technique is designed to prompt a confession using several techniques:
- Establish through non-verbal cues that they are lying. The investigators should look for non-verbal cues that a subject is anxious such as crossed arms, looking away, tapping a foot, or touching the face. However, most investigators interviewed admitted that they usually skipped this stage of the questioning, going straight into the coercive techniques.
- Give false evidence. Investigators amp up the pressure to confess by telling the subject that they have evidence that the person did it, and it will be better for them to cooperate.
- Override denials. If the subject denies they committed the crime, every attempt to deny is overridden so that the subject can’t articulate their innocence.
- Minimization. Investigators reframe the crime in a way that minimizes the severity of the crime or makes the criminal feel that they empathize, such as telling them the victim had it coming or that anyone would have done the same thing in their shoes.
An article from the New Yorker on the Reid Technique gives more information, including tips from a Reid Technique trainer, Senese:
“Never allow them to give you denials,” Senese told us. “The key is to shut them up.”
Allowing a suspect to deny the crime is like giving the defense an opportunity to present another theory of the crime. It’s something prosecutors would like to shut down. Since the suspect is also the defense, investigators who believe they already have the right suspect in custody want to keep only one version of the “truth” in play: the confession they are seeking. The problem is that when a suspect is not allowed to deny they committed the crime, this increases their level of distress, which increases their suspicious non-verbal cues, which confirms to the interrogator that they are on the right track. It’s self-reinforcing logic. It’s reminiscent of the torture techniques used in the middle ages to prompt confessions of heresy. When you begin with the premise that the person is guilty, then there is no need for restraint since whatever pressure you apply is in the name of justice.
Senese asked the class, “What do you think is more important, verbal or nonverbal behavior?” Intuitively, we responded, “Nonverbal.” “Yeah,” he said. “That’s the whole ballgame right there.” He told us that a video of an interview without sound would be more likely to reveal lying than one that included the audio. He showed us footage of a dark-haired woman being questioned about having changed her prescription for oxycodone from ten pills to forty. She gave equivocal answers, touched her face, and cast her eyes down and to the left. “I say that’s deceptive,” Senese pronounced.
The problem is that there is little actual correlation between non-verbal cues and lying as I pointed out in a previous post here.
The Reid interrogation technique is predicated upon an accurate determination, during Behavioral Analysis, of whether the suspect is lying. Here, too, social scientists find reason for concern. Three decades of research have shown that nonverbal signals, so prized by the Reid trainers, bear no relation to deception. In fact, people have little more than coin-flipping odds of guessing if someone is telling the truth, and numerous surveys have shown that police do no better. Aldert Vrij, a professor of psychology at the University of Portsmouth, in England, found that law-enforcement experience does not necessarily improve the ability to detect lies. Among police officers, those who said they paid close attention to nonverbal cues did the worst. Similarly, an experiment by Kassin showed that both students and police officers were better at telling true confessions from false ones when they listened to an audio recording of an interview rather than watch it on video. In the experiment, the police officers performed less well than the students but expressed greater confidence in their ability to tell who was lying. “That’s a bad combination,” Kassin said.
Not only are non-verbal cues an inaccurate depiction of whether someone is telling the truth, but law enforcement officers who are prone to rely on them are often the least accurate in determining whether someone is lying. Why is that? It’s due to their overconfidence in their own judgement, their belief in their ability to discern people’s intentions. This is a trait that Mormon lay leaders are often guilty of as well, an over-reliance on their ability to discern worthiness without anything more than reliance on non-verbal cues which are often random or unrelated to supposed internal states. In reality, there is more bias and prejudice at play than people are willing to admit. It’s one reason we are taught that individuals determine their own worthiness in interviews with bishops rather than bishops going rogue. Thank goodness they aren’t knowingly using the Reid Technique!
Gregg McCrary, a retired F.B.I. agent, told me that Reid-style training creates a tendency to see lies where they may not exist, with an unhealthy amount of confidence in that judgment. “They just assume they’re interviewing the guilty guy,” he said.
We’ve all heard the Law & Order detectives claim that only guilty people confess, as well as the push from the district attorney to get a confession in order to clinch the case.
“35 ears ago, a postdoctoral fellow in psychology named Saul Kassin began researching the psychological factors that affect jury decisions. He noticed that whenever a confession was involved, every juror voted guilty. Alibis and fingerprints didn’t matter in these cases.”
Unfortunately, people often do confess for reasons other than guilt. For example, despite Miranda warnings, most suspects, particularly if they are innocent, waive their Miranda rights because they don’t want to appear guilty. They want to show that they are innocent and cooperative. But in waiving their right to counsel, they often succumb to the pressure tactics of detectives who think they have the right suspect in custody.
Richard Leo, a law professor at the University of San Francisco who had undergone Reid training – Leo has reported that the Miranda decision, which is supposed to shield suspects from involuntary confessions, generally does not: more than eighty per cent decline their Miranda rights, apparently in order to seem cooperative.
And while it feels like cheating for a detective to claim they have evidence that they don’t actually have, like an eye witness, a murder weapon, or an accomplice statement, it’s absolutely legal for investigators to do so. It just might be ill-advised if it results in an untrue confession.
(Joseph Buckley who currently heads John E. Reid & Associates: He argued—and judges have regularly agreed—that if a suspect infers leniency from an interrogator’s guise of sympathy, that’s the suspect’s problem. (Critics may not like the fact that police sometimes lie to suspects during interrogations, but a 1969 Supreme Court decision affirmed their right to do so.)
If the Reid Technique is faulty, what is a better approach? Other nations use a technique called PEACE: Preparation & Planning, Engage & Explain, Account, Closure, and Evaluate.
Training was provided for police departments throughout England and Wales, starting with major-crimes units. By 2001, every police officer in England and Wales had received a basic level of instruction in the method. . . Police were instructed not to try to obtain confessions but to use the interview as a way to gather evidence and information, almost as a journalist would. They were to focus on content rather than on nonverbal behavior, and were taught not to pay attention to anxiety, since it does not correlate with lying. Instead, police were trained to ask open-ended questions to elicit the whole story, and then go back over the details in a variety of ways to find inconsistencies. For the suspect, lying creates a cognitive load—it takes energy to juggle the details of a fake story. . . Bluffing about evidence was prohibited. “We were not allowed to lie, coerce, or minimize.”
When individuals are lying, the pressure to continue to provide details builds as they try to keep their story straight. Eventually their story contradicts itself in telling ways. The truth comes out.
But not when the investigator’s sole aim is a confession.
Although it is unknown whether Avery and Dassey committed the crime, it’s almost certain that the confession was not an accurate depiction of the crime, and further it’s an appalling illustration of how this technique fails. Another problem it reveals is that those who are most vulnerable in society, the poor, the uneducated, the mentally ill, and those with a lower than average IQ, are easy targets for criminal investigations so long as we use coercive techniques. It doesn’t seem like much has changed since the middle ages after all.

I really enjoyed “Making a Murderer,” though I think the filmmakers had their own hidden biases. But it did reveal many of the problems of the criminal justice system.
Most of us have a hard time imagining why someone would confess to a crime they didn’t commit, because we have never been in that situation. It seems obvious that innocent people don’t confess. But we are seeing more and more that innocent people confess all the time. Sometimes, they believe that the case looks really bad for them, and they take a plea deal because 10 years in prison is better than life without parole. Or else, they have been interrogated for an extended period of time and think that if they just tell the cops what they want to hear, they will be able to end the interrogation and later prove their innocence.
I think a lot of the problems stem from a prosecutorial approach that seeks to “win” cases rather than “solve” them. It doesn’t help that DA’s are elected for being tough on crime and having high conviction rates.
We are blind to our own biases, and once we identify the guilty party, we shape the evidence to fit our own theory of the case. It is all too common for police detectives and prosecutors to continue to insist on a subject’s guilt even after they are exonerated by DNA evidence.
“It’s one reason we are taught that individuals determine their own worthiness in interviews with bishops rather than bishops going rogue.”
I’m not aware of this being taught.
Sorry that comment posted prematurely.
When I was a teenager a seminary teacher (also a former bishop) told our class on multiple occasions that bishops can usually tell when people are holding things back. I was under the impression that he was referring to a combination of non verbal cues and spiritual promoting. I don’t remember being taught anything to contradict that. I’ve also always thought that it was the Bishop’s responsibility to determine worthiness, and I’m interested to hear from people that learned otherwise.
It’s pretty simple. If members felt like they could go to their bishop and confess and get the simple reaction Jesus told the lady caught in sin, “Go thy way and sin no more”, then confessions wouldn’t need all this science behind it. Instead, confessions can lead to embarrassing rituals. …don’t take the sacrament, come back and see me more times, guess you need to meet with the high Council for that one, go talk to the stake president, you can’t have a temple recommend, etc etc bla bla bla. The church has veered so far away from the simple teachings of Christ on confessions and forgiveness that on purpose they now force people to lie.
Check out Helaman 9:16-38. Any of it sound familiar?
I also think it’s a pretty enormous stretch to compare the Steven Avery case to what goes on in the Bishop’s office. Feels like this post is trying a little too hard to get a conviction on that one, honestly.
Rockwell: Interesting. I went on a quick search and found what is probably my source for saying this, a talk from 1989 by Marvin J. Ashton called “On Being Worthy”: https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1989/04/on-being-worthy?lang=eng. In this talk, he focuses on the role of bishops to lift up despondent members who think they are unworthy and don’t realize that we are all unworthy to some degree. However, I also found more recent talks by Nelson, Ballard, Hinckley and a few others who focus more on the bishop’s role in assessing worthiness as opposed to individuals; these talks seemed more “purity” driven (no unclean thing shall pass).
I suppose my main reason for believing that worthiness is mostly self-determined is that we determine it for ourselves in taking the sacrament, and rogue bishops who liked to freelance on the temple recommend questions have been reined in and told that these are yes/no questions and not to elaborate. That points toward self-determined worthiness.
Carl: I don’t think there are many parallels in reality. I’m certainly not inclined to think we are “interrogating” people in a bishop’s office (well, maybe bishops who are cops; I dunno). I do however think that all human beings are prone to believe confessions imply guilt and to think we are experts at reading non-verbal cues.
Mostly I just wanted an excuse to talk about Law & Order and the Steven Avery case. 🙂
Hawkgrrrl:
You said,
“I’m starting to question my faith . . . in the excellent detectives of the New York Police Department as portrayed on the various Law & Orders.”
You have probably asked God about the truthfulness of many things, especially the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in your life. And I mean even tried to determine it from study to get the feeling from God that it is true?
Maybe the policing and the Church have their problems on this subject, although nothing but nothing will ever challenge your faith of Christ owning this Church. If your bishop should have problems then you will find out how to support him and do so.
That will be a glory to your judgement from God.
Maybe God will help the police too.
“I also think it’s a pretty enormous stretch to compare the Steven Avery case to what goes on in the Bishop’s office”
Except in cases where “power corrupts” and the “ends” justify the “means.” (example: Prop 8 campaign), and “leader lottery” where church discipline is applied unevenly and women are excluded from the process.
I too watched “Making a Murderer.”
It is amazing to me the prosecution could present and sucessfully present to a jury a case of someone being raped, stabbed and shot without evidence of any blood or DNA at the alleged crime scene of the victim (other than a shell casing?). Are we to believe someone could clean up all the blood and DNA of the victim while leaving behind a key and shell casing?
While I am not necessarily convinced of Avery’s innocence, in my opinion, his case was not proven beyond a reasonable doubt.
But what was most disturbing is what happened to Brenden Cassey and I don’t understand why his case has not created the bigger uproar.
The O.J. trial demonstrated to me that our justice system is tilted toward those with power and money. And, having served on a jury, revealed the tenuous nature of relying on imperfect strangers to determine innocence or guilt. I’ve taught my children to #1 never, ever allow yourself to be interrorgated by law enforcement without counsel and #2 never ever put yourself in a situation where you can get caught up in proceedings of our justice system.
Rockwell, I’ve been taught (by bishops, even) that we ultimately determine our worthiness – hence our own signature on the temple recommend. Maybe at BYU it was a lot more common for us to question worthiness for what bishops saw were minor reasons. I’ve also been taught about the power of discernment, but it’s usually in the context of how best to proceed when people seek guidance for an issue or how best to meet the needs of a wardmember. Possibly I heard too much about people successfully deceiving bishops to ever trust a special “spidey-sense.”
Rich: I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dick Wolf is the creator of the Law & Order universe. Whenever the opening credits roll, I feel the spirit’s ka-chung in my heart.
Spidey-sense… I like that term.
I actually don’t trust the Spidey-sense myself, either. I brought it up because it is taught, at least informally, that bishops have this discernment. I think leaders often make both kinds of errors, assuming people are lying when they aren’t and vice versa.
I like the idea that people determine their own worthiness, with some consideration for those who are overly self critical. Even better would be to recognize that although we are all sinners, we also have access to the same saving grace.
Now I’ve gotta start watching Making a Murderer.
A bishop told me once that, if a ward member lied his way through a temple recommend interview, even if that bishop knew the truth, he would grant the recommend anyway, because worthiness is the individual’s responsibility, and is ultimately between him and God. He believed his job was to get people into the temple, not keep them out. Once, he intended to extend to me a time-intensive calling. I told him I was within weeks of moving out of the ward. He then politely withdrew the calling, and explained that a bishop’s best inspiration comes from the ward members themselves.
By contrast, I had a seminary teacher who once told our class that not only bishops, but temple workers have that “gift of discernment” and are able to spot unworthy patrons trying to enter the temple (even if they have valid recommends) and turn them away, even summon armed security guards to escort them off the premises. A few years later, when I went for my own endowment, I was terrified that the man at the recommend desk would evaluate my soul, discover some deeply hidden unconfessed sin, and possibly send me away in shame, and all in front of my parents, who would then demand an explanation. It took me a few uneventful return visits to get over that.
I also grew up hearing unconfirmed stories about mission presidents who sent home “disobedient” elders based only on spiritual impressions that the elder in question had broken the rules–no evidence, no confession, just the elder getting called into the mission home one day, and the MP hands him a plane ticket and says “the Lord told me what you did” and sends him home in disgrace without another word. Has anyone else heard that one?
Eventually, with time and some additional maturity, I came to the conclusion that no one, by virtue of any priesthood keys, is granted a magic window into the souls of men. Bishops know nothing about me, other than what I tell them. And I don’t have to tell them anything I don’t want to. The general authorities of the Church don’t know me at all, so I don’t consider their counsel to be personal scripture, just general well-intentioned advice.
I know a guy who works for the FBI. He was investigating an ATM robbery, and had a photo of the robber. He took the photo to the owner and said, “do you know this guy?” The owner says, “yes. I can’t believe that’s our employee Steve.”
So they pull Steve in for questioning. He denies everything. My friend pulls out the photo, and says “we know you did this.” Steve replies, “Where’d you get that photo?” FBI guy thinks he has the right guy, but Steve still won’t confess.
So FBI guy goes back the owner, and asks if it could be someone else. Owner says, “well, it could be John.” FBI guy goes to John, says, “We know you did this.” John says, “Yeah, it was me.”
FBI guy says he felt really bad he falsely accused Steve, but apparently Steve thought the photo was him too.
Sometimes the Reid-style training doesn’t work out so well. Good for Steve that he didn’t fall for the crap questioning.