A Summary of the trial - Week 2 Day 1 cont'd...
Up next was state's witness, MPD Police Chief Medaria Arradondo.
Direct questioning of Chief Arrandondo was conducted by Prosecutor Schleicher, and he returned to his earlier emphasis on the “soft” values of the Minneapolis Police Department—compassion, dignity, guardianship, respect, be courteous, be polite, and so forth. Little or no emphasis was placed on the “protect” part of the “protect and serve” motto common to most police departments.
Arrandondo even testified that it’s the mission of the MPD “to treat all people with dignity and respect above all else.”
By Schleicher’s telling, and with Arrandondo’s agreement, the job of the police department was mostly touchie-feelie, and any use of force was apparently an implicit indication that the officer involved had failed to do the right touchie-feelie stuff.
Schleicher spent considerable time walking Arrandondo through the MPD’s use-of-force policies, as well, several times having the Chief read aloud specific highlighted portions of that policy manual.
Schleicher also spent a lot of time talking about various MPD de-escalation policies. Noticeable as he worked through the list of explicit de-escalation options was that either the officers on scene with Floyd had already executed those steps, or the steps were likely not practical given the circumstances.
One option for de-escalation was that an officer could call for back-up. Well, Keung and Lane got back-up, in the form of Chauvin and Thau.
Another option was to use verbal commands to de-escalate. Well, Lane did that on his initial approach to Floyd sitting in the passenger seat of the SUV, and to which Floyd was non-compliant—SHOW ME YOUR HANDS! Nope—and then forcibly resistant.
Other options were the use of barriers—you mean like using a squad car as a barrier?—and containing the threat—you mean like physically restraining the threat?
It was also important, according to Arrandondo, for the officers to get as much information as they could before responding to the scene. The notion that the officers were limited to the information offered by dispatch, and dispatch in turn was limited to the information offered by the complainant, didn’t seem to be in anyone’s mind.
Chief Arrandondo actually suggested that officers reaching out to the community itself for help is a viable option. So in this case the officers should have sought assistance from, whom, Maurice Hall the purported drug dealer? MMA Williams, who was threatening the officers with physical violence? The off-duty firefighter gal who was calling the officers “b!tch”?
Schleicher also disingenuously referred to a previous argument he’d raised, which was that all this happened to Floyd simply because Floyd attempted to pass a bad $20 bill, an offence normally addressed by police with a mere summons (ticket) to appear in court. Surely that’s nothing to die over, right?
Unstated, of course, is that what might have started as a mere bad $20 call quickly escalated, and solely as a result of Floyd’s own conduct. When approached by officers in his vehicle, he repeatedly refused to show his hands, compelling them to draw their service pistols. As the apparent operator of a motor vehicle, there were additional safety grounds to remove him from the vehicle and temporarily detain him, which includes handcuffing—which technically is not even an arrest, if the detention is transitory.
Then the apparent drugs were discovered, Floyd began to violently resist the officers’ commands, then violently resisted lawful arrest, and bang, we were off to the races.
The officers didn’t do that. Floyd did that. I’m sure they would have been much happier to have simply written him a summons than to get into a physical fight with a 6’ 6” 230-pound man who was disinterested in being arrested that day.
Schleicher also spent quite a bit of time on the MPD “critical decision-making model.” Schleicher must believe this model generally favours the defence, and he’s decided that rather than attempt to avoid the model he’s going to go hard on offense.
The way he does this is to point out that the “critical decision-making model” obliges the police to continually consider the totality of the circumstances in arriving at their use-of-force (and other) decisions. And that’s true.
Schleicher is using this line of argument to suggest that the officers arresting Floyd failed to consider all the relevant factors in a timely manner, continued to use force when the circumstances no longer warranted the use of force, and therefore acted wrongfully.
Then we got to what I’m sure will be the money headline of the day, and that was when prosecutor Schleicher asked if Chauvin’s specific neck restraint was a trained MPD defensive tactics technique. Arrandondo unequivocally stated that it was not.
The question asked if Chauvin’s specific neck restraint was a trained MPD defensive tactic, and Addarondo answered in the negative. But it turns out that, although he doesn’t offer this context in his answer, Addarondo’s negative response is based on a whole wealth of what he perceives as important circumstances.
Specifically, Addarondo was not testifying that the knee on the neck restraint was contrary to policy, per se—he can’t because neck restraints were explicitly permitted by MPD policy in effect at the time of Floyd’s arrest–but rather that it was contrary to policy for the length of time it was applied.
But that’s now just a judgment call. There’s nothing in the MPD policy about any specific length of duration of the neck restraint. Presumably the neck restraint is permitted as long as circumstances warrant. Which begs the question of what the circumstances warrant, which makes it all a judgment call.
It’s also important to recognize that just because a restraint might not be per policy if used as a defensive fighting technique doesn’t mean it couldn’t be justified for some other purpose—such as the trained full-body restraint of a suspect believed to be a victim of excited delirium.
Another complaint Addarondo had about Chauvin’s particular use of force was that the MPD policy in effect at the time allowed only light or moderate pressure to be applied. Based on Chauvin’s so-called “shimmy” body movements and Floyd’s pained expression, Addarondo inferred that Chauvin was applying greater than moderate pressure.
It should go without saying, of course, that there is no way Addarondo can know, by merely looking at a video, how much pressure Chauvin was actually applying—and remember, guilt must be proven beyond a reasonable doubt. Further, we know that the medical examiner found zero indication of trauma to Floyd’s neck.
As for Floyd’s pained expression, we have the earlier testimony of his co-addict lady friend that the same pills had previously caused Floyd an overdose involving such tremendous intestinal and body pain that he’d begged her to take him to the hospital—and this was only about a year prior to Floyd’s death, and involving essentially identical pills as those he consumed on May 25, 2020. I’ve little doubt that Floyd was indeed in great pain, but there’s an evidence-based explanation for that pain other than Chauvin’s knee.
Of course, Addarondo never mentioned a word about Floyd’s overdose on the fentanyl/methamphetamine cocktail potentially contributing to his painful demise. After all, even if we presume Chauvin’s knee was out of policy, that doesn’t mean it killed Floyd, given the perfectly legitimate alternative explanations for Floyd’s cause of death.
Schleicher, like Blackwell before him, also touched on the argument that the officers failed to provide Floyd with timely care.
Cross-examination was, of course, conducted by attorney Nelson.
Nelson emphasised how far removed Addarondo was from hands-on policing. Indeed, given the hedging in Addarondo’s responses it seemed likely that he’d only ever physically arrested a very small number of suspects before managing to get himself promoted off the street.
Nelson also got Addarondo to concede that his expertise on MPD use-of-force was at the policy level, and not at the tactical hands-on training level. He could speak to what MPD policy might allow or prohibit, but his knowledge of how the officers were actually trained or what they were obliged to do on the street in carrying out their duties was not a topic on which he could claim great knowledge.
And here we get to the point in cross that illustrates how dangerous it is to rely on the media’s general coverage of only the state’s narrative of guilt. You’ll recall that on direct Addarondo had explicitly stated that Chauvin’s knee technique appeared to him not a trained MPD technique, and Schleicher had Addarondo quote extensively from that policy—but only certain portions of that policy.
On cross-examination, Nelson had Addarondo read aloud the portions of policy that Schleicher had skipped, and it was all the portions that made the policies conditional. For example, that the force used by officers must be objectively reasonable in light of the facts and circumstances known to the officer at the time force is used.
Nelson also had Addarondo acknowledge that the purported objective legal standard of the US Supreme Court decision of Graham v. Connor, generally agreed upon as a core principle of the MPD policy manual, also required that this purportedly objective analysis consider all the subjective knowledge, training, experience, and circumstances known to the officer at the time. Further Graham v. Connor cautioned against judging the actions of the officers with 20:20 hindsight, noting that officers often had to make split-second decisions under dangerous circumstances. Perfection cannot be expected from mere human beings, merely reasonableness.
When Nelson asked Addarondo whether it was true that all MPD policies relevant to use-of-force, to EMS response, to medical treatment, whatever, all of them are by their explicit language situationally dependent, Addarondo was obliged to answer “Yes, I would agree with that.”
Several times during cross of Addarondo Nelson made use of a clever gambit used once or twice on other state’s witnesses, especially those claiming some level of expertise on a relevant issue. When the witness realises that Nelson was leading them to a conclusion with which they didn’t want to agree, they’d start hedging their testimony—well, I’m not sure, it depends, I don’t know if I would agree with that.
In response, Nelson would suggest that perhaps it would be better to defer that specific question to, say, a use-of-force expert. The witness would readily agree, because they saw this as an escape from the question they didn’t want to be compelled to answer.
What this gambit does rhetorically, however, is substantially undercut the witness’ apparent expertise on the subject being asked about. Hey, look, even they are saying they don’t really know that much about this subject, and we should instead listen to a real use-of-force expert (which, unstated, the defence will be glad to present to all you jurors in a few days).
Previously Nelson had gotten away with this little trick without objection by the state. Today, however, when Nelson pulled this trick several times with Addarondo, Schleicher was all over it, objecting each time Nelson made use of it. Despite Schleicher’s best efforts, however, each time an objection was raised Nelson would look over at Judge Cahill with the most innocent “who me?” expression you’re ever likely to see on a lawyer’s face, and Cahill overruled the state’s objection.
Nelson also explored with Addarondo the reality that there was a distinction between use-of-force policy, on the one hand, and permissible use-of-force techniques, on the other. That is, all use of force had to exist within the boundaries of policy, but whereas there might be one “best practice” handcuff technique, for example, that was formally taught by MPD trainers, there might be two or three alternative techniques that while not formally taught also fell within the boundaries of MPD policy. To this proposition Addarondo agreed.
Nelson had, superficially, less success when he attempted to get Addarondo to concede that a police use of force often looked ugly and unpleasant to bystanders, who therefore might be likely to find objectionable even perfectly appropriate uses of force.
The state objected to this line of questioning as speculative, and Cahill upheld the objection, so Addarondo did not have to answer—but, of course, the jury heard the question proposed in the first place, and in many respects the question itself was more important than any answer.
Perhaps the most notable line of questioning of Addarondo by Nelson occurred when Nelson showed the Chief two videos of Chauvin’s knee near Floyd’s neck, but with the videos shot from different angles—one was the bystander video, the other a body worn camera video.
When asked if the bystander video made it appear that Chauvin’s knee was on Floyd’s neck, the Chief answered that it did appear to be located there.
When then asked if the body worn camera video made it appear that Chauvin’s knee was not on Floyd’s neck, but on Floyd’s shoulder blade, the Chief agreed that this also appeared to be the case.
The state would respond on re-direct by having Addarondo claim that he noticed this discrepancy only in the last few seconds before the paramedics swept up Floyd, and that prior to that point it appeared throughout that Chauvin’s knee was on Floyd’s neck—but I can’t help but wonder if this video angle disparity might not encourage some of the jurors to view the videos with more skepticism than might otherwise have been the case.
Importantly, Nelson also got Addarondo to explicitly agree that just because a suspect was handcuffed did not mean they were no longer a threat to officers, others, or themselves. Indeed, Addarondo explicitly agreed that a handcuffed suspect could still be a threat to officers by kicking, biting, spitting, or other means.
There was also a great deal of discussion about neck chokes (which means airway chokes in this context) versus neck restraints (which includes both constrictive neck constraints intended to cause loss of consciousness, permitted only under deadly force circumstances, on the one hand, and neck restraints intended to, well, restrain the suspect without inducing loss of consciousness, permitted when dealing with non-compliant suspects, on the other hand). With respect to the neck constraints, either arm or leg constriction was explicitly permitted by MPD use of force policy at the time (since changed to prohibit).
Frankly, however, I don’t really think it matters. Either Chauvin’s knee killed Floyd, or the drug overdose killed him. There’s no actual evidence that Chauvin’s knee applied sufficient pressure to kill, and there’s plenty of evidence supporting the hypothesis that it was the three-fold fentanyl overdose, the hypertensive and cardiac disease, and the poor judgment of Floyd to fight police that caused his death. Further, if Chauvin’s knee was not inflicting killing force, it was almost certainly permissible as a restraint intended to protect Floyd from himself, rather than as a use-of-force intended to neutralize an active threat against others.
There was a bit of re-direct after cross-examination—this is where Schleicher got Addarondo to state that he’d only seen Chauvin’s knee on Floyd’s shoulder blade in those last few seconds of the video—and then re-cross and a very short re-re-direct, but that’s about it.
(Summary acknowledgment Attorney Andrew Branca)
