An urgent, compact manifesto that will teach you how to protect your rights, your freedom, and your future when talking to police. Law professor James J. Duane became a viral sensation thanks to a 2008 lecture outlining the reasons why you should never agree to answer questions from the police--especially if you are innocent and wish to stay out of trouble with the law. In this timely, relevant, and pragmatic new book, he expands on that presentation, offering a vigorous defense of every citizen's constitutionally protected right to avoid self-incrimination. Getting a lawyer is not only the best policy, Professor Duane argues, it's also the advice law-enforcement professionals give their own kids. Using actual case histories of innocent men and women exonerated after decades in prison because of information they voluntarily gave to police, Professor Duane demonstrates the critical importance of a constitutional right not well or widely understood by the average American. Reflecting the most recent attitudes of the Supreme Court, Professor Duane argues that it is now even easier for police to use your own words against you. This lively and informative guide explains what everyone needs to know to protect themselves and those they love.

Following Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Cable Guy from the Blue Collar Comedy Tour to the page, White (affectionately known as RTater SaladS) delivers the laughs in his distinctive and beloved down-home style.

Renowned legal scholar and bestselling author Dershowitz reveals precisely why Fifth Amendment rights matter, and discusses how they are being reshaped, limited, and in some cases revoked in the wake of 9/11.

One of the most significant Supreme Court cases in U.S. history has its roots in Arizona and is closely tied to the stateÕs leading legal figures. Miranda has become a household word; now Gary Stuart tells the inside story of this famous case, and with it the legal history of the accusedÕs right to counsel and silence. Ernesto Miranda was an uneducated Hispanic man arrested in 1963 in connection with a series of sexual assaults, to which he confessed within hours. He was convicted not on the strength of eyewitness testimony or physical evidence but almost entirely because he had incriminated himself without knowing itÑand without knowing that he didnÕt have to. MirandaÕs lawyers, John P. Frank and John F. Flynn, were among the most prominent in the state, and their work soon focused the entire country on the issue of their clientÕs rights. A 1966 Supreme Court decision held that MirandaÕs rights had been violated and resulted in the now-famous "Miranda warnings." Stuart personally knows many of the figures involved in Miranda, and here he unravels its complex history, revealing how the defense attorneys created the argument brought before the Court and analyzing the competing societal interests involved in the case. He considers Miranda's aftermathÑnot only the test cases and ongoing political and legal debate but also what happened to Ernesto Miranda. He then updates the story to the Supreme CourtÕs 2000 Dickerson decision upholding Miranda and considers its implications for cases in the wake of 9/11 and the rights of suspected terrorists. Interviews with 24 individuals directly concerned with the decisionÑlawyers, judges, and police officers, as well as suspects, scholars, and ordinary citizensÑoffer observations on the caseÕs impact on law enforcement and on the rights of the accused. Ten years after the decision in the case that bears his name, Ernesto Miranda was murdered in a knife fight at a Phoenix bar, and his suspected killer was "Mirandized" before confessing to the crime. Miranda: The Story of AmericaÕs Right to Remain Silent considers the legacy of that case and its fate in the twenty-first century as we face new challenges in the criminal justice system.

Page-turning detective fiction from the author of I HEARD YOU PAINT HOUSES / THE IRISHMAN who was himself a homicide investigator and prosecutor. Wisecracking cop Lou Razzi’s zeal, dedication and talent for extracting information from suspects make him destined to rise quickly through the ranks . . . until a frame-up sends him to jail for two years. He loses his career, his marriage, and his baby daughter, and following his release from prison, he leaves the country for a sort of self-imposed exile in Brazil. Fifteen years later, an exonerated, more hardened Razzi comes back to serve a single day on the force and claim his pension. But that one day becomes a continuing education when Razzi is drawn onto a conspiracy and finds his old police tools fruitless in the wake of the Miranda decision. Forced to learn, like a rookie, from his mistakes, he starts to find his way with the help of assistant district attorney Honey Gold. . . and is able to combat the powers that framed him then and thrive now in the new era of police procedure. When The Right to Remain Silent was first published, then-President Ronald Reagan wrote Brandt an unsolicited fan letter: “I commend your novel…for your forthright stand on improving protection of law-abiding citizens.” "The Right to Remain Silent is a novel written and to be read for entertainment, but it also encourages study of the art of interrogation and contains the line that 'confession is one of the necessities of life, like food and shelter.'" -- Charles Brandt from the Preface

Presents an analysis of the Supreme Court's 1966 decision that ruled police must inform suspects in a crime of their legal rights

An eminent constitutional scholar reveals how our approach to rights is dividing America, and shows how we can build a better system of justice.

The world watched in horror in April 2007 when Virginia Tech student Seung-Hui Cho went on a killing rampage that resulted in the deaths of thirty-two students and faculty members before he ended his own life. Former Virginia Tech English department chair and distinguished professor Lucinda Roy saw the tragedy unfold on the TV screen in her home and had a terrible realization. Cho was the student she had struggled to get to know–the loner who found speech torturous. After he had been formally asked to leave a poetry class in which he had shared incendiary work that seemed directed at his classmates and teacher, Roy began the difficult task of working one-on-one with him in a poetry tutorial. During those months, a year and a half before the massacre, Roy came to realize that Cho was more than just a disgruntled young adult experimenting with poetic license; he was, in her opinion, seriously depressed and in urgent need of intervention. But when Roy approached campus counseling as well as others in the university about Cho, she was repeatedly told that they could not intervene unless a student sought counseling voluntarily. Eventually, Roy’s efforts to persuade Cho to seek help worked. Unbelievably, on the three occasions he contacted the counseling center staff, he did not receive a comprehensive evaluation by them–a startling discovery Roy learned about after Cho’s death. More revelations were to follow. After responding to questions from the media and handing over information to law enforcement as instructed by Virginia Tech, Roy was shunned by the administration. Papers documenting Cho’s interactions with campus counseling were lost. The university was suddenly on the defensive. Was the university, in fact, partially responsible for the tragedy because of the bureaucratic red tape involved in obtaining assistance for students with mental illness, or was it just, like many colleges, woefully underfunded and therefore underequipped to respond to such cases? Who was Seung-Hui Cho? Was he fully protected under the constitutional right to freedom of speech, or did his writing and behavior present serious potential threats that should have resulted in immediate intervention? How can we balance students’ individual freedom with the need to protect the community? These are the questions that have haunted Roy since that terrible day. No Right to Remain Silent is one teacher’s cri de coeur–her dire warning that given the same situation today, two years later, the ending would be no less terrifying and no less tragic.

You have the right to remain silent is the well-known introduction to a series of statements police are required to communicate to accused criminals upon arrest. Known as the Miranda warning, these famous instructions are a direct result of the Supreme Court case, Miranda v. Arizona. Ernesto Miranda, an Arizona laborer, was arrested in 1963 and convicted of raping a woman. He appealed his conviction and the Supreme Court overturned the decision, determining that Arizona authorities had violated two constitutional amendments. Miranda v. Arizona offers a clear understanding of the history of this decision and its consequences. Before the Miranda warning, it was not uncommon for police station confessions to be obtained by intimidation, making false promises, psychological game-playing, physical torture, or exploiting the ignorance of the accused. The Supreme Court's decision allowed that the privileges granted to a defendant in a courtroom - the right to counsel, the right to due process, and the right to not witness against oneself - were now extended to the police station.

"You have the right to remain silent." These words, drawn from the Supreme Court's famous decision in Miranda v. Arizona, have had a tremendous impact on the public imagination. But what a strange right this is. Of all the activities that are especially worthy of protection, that define us as human beings, foster human potential, and symbolize human ambition, why privilege silence? This thoughtful and iconoclastic book argues that silence can be an expression of freedom. A defiant silence demonstrates determination, courage, and will. Martyrs from a variety of faith traditions have given up their lives rather than renounce their god. During the Vietnam era, thousands of anonymous draft resisters refused to take the military oath that was a prelude to participating in what they believed was an immoral war. These silences speak to us. They are a manifestation of connection, commitment, and meaning. This link between silence and freedom is apparent in a variety of different contexts, which Seidman examines individually, including silence and apology, silence and self-incrimination, silence and interrogation, silence and torture, and silence and death. In discussing the problem of apology, for example, the author argues that although apology plays a crucial role in maintaining the illusion of human connection, the right to not apologize is equally crucial. Similarly, prohibition against torture--so prominent in national debate since the events of Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib--is best understood as a right to silence, essential in preserving the distinction between mind and body on which human freedom depends.