An Exercise in Exceptions

Guest post by Fabiana Alceste. In 1994, a Washington, D.C. detective named James Trainum questioned a woman under suspicion of homicide. After a 16-hour interrogation, the woman relented and provided a detailed narrative of how she and two other men killed a man and threw him in the Anacostia River 1 . Her confession seemed perfect—she incriminated herself and included accurate and privileged information about the crime that only the police and the true perpetrator could have known. After the confession, Trainum and his colleagues naturally considered the case closed. Although investigators could not find any other evidence against the suspect, her confession reinforced the investigators’ belief in her guilt – in part, because it contained those accurate details. Soon after, the investigation showed that it was impossible for this woman to have committed the crime—she had an ironclad alibi—and the charges against her were dropped. But how could she have possibly known the ...

In December 2015, Netflix brought the justice system to the forefront of the public consciousness with its award-winning documentary Making a Murderer . The 10-episode serialization followed the story of Steven Avery – a Wisconsin man who was wrongfully convicted of rape in 1985, spent 18 years in prison before being exonerated, and was then arrested and ultimately convicted for the murder of Teresa Halbach in 2005. While the documentary focuses primarily on Steven Avery as the main suspect, Making a Murderer also highlighted a lesser-known element of the case: the confession and conviction of Brendan Dassey, Avery’s nephew. Although there’s a lot to analyze in this case, we focus here on a nagging question – did Brendan Dassey give a false confession? Dassey’s involvement in the case was little understood until Netflix’s deep dive into the case, but has emerged as one of the most scrutinized and tragic elements. Briefly, the police focused on Avery as a suspect in the disappe...