Hocus-Pocus: More on False Restraining Orders and the Five Magic Words

Some recent posts on this blog have touched on what might be called the five magic words, because their utterance may be all that’s required of a petitioner to obtain a restraining order. The five magic words are these: “I’m afraid for my life.”

Cops, it’s even reported, tell women whom they goad to get restraining orders that they should recite this magical phrase to the judge (wink, wink)—and some of these women complain later that they felt forced onto a course that they regretted pursuing but weren’t permitted to correct.

(Notably, billions in federal tax dollars have been invested under the Violence Against Women Act in so-called STOP grants—“Services and Training for Officers and Prosecutors”—as well as in grants to encourage arrests, according to which VAWA grants police officers have essentially been instructed to promote restraining orders.)

The I’m-afraid-for-my-life enchantment has variant forms. This writer’s accuser, who had for months nightly hung around outside of his residence alone in the dark, used this one: “Will I be attacked?”

The abbreviated version, “I’m afraid,” can even suffice. What’s more, judges in some jurisdictions may cue a restraining order applicant to say it, because they’re not authorized to issue the requested injunction unless s/he does (e.g., “I can only issue a restraining order if you tell me you’re afraid of [him or her]. I’m going to ask you one more time: Are you afraid?”).

Gamesmanship in this arena is both bottom-up and top-down. Liars hustle judges…and judges hustle liars along.

Claims of fear are seldom unaccompanied by specific for-instances (sometimes real, sometimes not), but typically if it weren’t for the magic words’ coloring the for-instances, they would signify little by themselves.

(A California man employed as a little league umpire, for example, had a restraining order petitioned against him this year by his sister-in-law. She alleged that looks the man had cast in his nephew’s direction—while the boy was playing baseball, and the man was in the park to perform his job—caused his nephew grave emotional upset. She also cited an incident when she said her brother-in-law had aggressively honked and waved at her and her son from his car. The so-called relevant facts were only made sinister by their reporter’s alleged apprehension.)

Words aren’t magical, and allegations of fear aren’t facts. In procedures as brief and superficial as those mandated by restraining order laws, even facts aren’t facts. They’re often just innuendo upon which foundation a judge is urged and authorized to erect an outhouse.

Copyright © 2014 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

The Five Magic Words: What Do Restraining Order Defendants Mean when They Say They’ve Been Falsely Accused?

A presumption of people—including even law professors—is that when restraining order defendants say the accusations against them are false, they mean that specific allegations of fact made by their accusers are untrue.

This is a misunderstanding, and it’s a totally understandable one that accounts for the incredulity expressed by proponents of the battered women’s movement when they hear statistics propounded like 50 to 90% of restraining orders are based on “false accusations.” (A family court judge might say 30%. The jaded former director of a woman’s shelter might say 40 or 50%. A men’s rights activist might say 60 to 80%, and a family attorney might well agree.) There are no “official” statistics—and there can’t be, because no records of false accusations are kept, and false accusations, besides, are seldom called “false accusations” in court rulings. Figures put forward are always speculative.)

It must be appreciated that restraining order prosecutions aren’t criminal prosecutions. They don’t evolve from detailed allegations made to the police and vetted by public attorneys; they’re based on forms filled out in 10 or 15 minutes by private litigants who deliver their claims straight to a judge (who meets with them for about the time it takes to make a sandwich).

To falsely accuse someone of “domestic violence,” for example, may just mean putting a check mark in a box on such a form.

That’s the false accusation—and if a defendant doesn’t show up to court to challenge that check-marked accusation, s/he becomes, by default, a “domestic abuser” according to the various law enforcement and registry databases his or her name is entered into.

hey-prestoPeople on the outside of the restraining order process imagine that the phrase false accusations refers to elaborately contrived frame-ups. Frame-ups certainly occur, but they’re mostly improvised. We’re talking about processes that are mere minutes in duration (that includes the follow-up hearings that purport to give defendants the chance to refute the allegations against them).

The fact is when defendants say accusers lie, they may just mean those accusers uttered the five magic words: “I’m afraid for my life.”

The magic words, which may of course be untrue, aren’t even susceptible to contradiction. They can’t be refuted; what they represent is an alleged feeling, not a fact that can be disproved. You can’t even really call them an accusation.

Contrary to all things reasonable and sound, a restraining order may be issued on the basis of the five magic words alone.

Copyright © 2014 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com

“Predator” v. “Porn Star”: Restraining Order Fraud, False Allegations, and Suing for Defamation

destroyPeople falsely alleged to be abusers on restraining order petitions, particularly men, are treated like brutes, sex offenders, and scum by officers of the court and its staff, besides by authorities and any number of others. Some report their own relatives remain suspicious—often based merely on finger-pointing that’s validated by some judge in a few-minute procedure (and that’s when relatives aren’t the ones making the false allegations).

The social alienation and emotional distress felt by the falsely accused may be both extreme and persistent.

The urge to credit accusations of abuse has been sharpened to a reflex in recent decades by feminist propaganda and its ill begot progeny, the Violence Against Women Act. No one thinks twice about it.

Using four-letter words in court is strictly policed. Even judges can’t do it without risking censure. Falsely implicating someone, however, as a stalker, for example, or a child molester—that isn’t policed at all. Commerce in lies, whether by accusers, their representatives, or even judges themselves is unregulated. No one is answerable for sh* s/he makes up.

Accordingly, false allegations and fraud are rewarding and therefore commonplace.

It should be noted that false allegations and fraud can be distinctly different. For example, David Letterman famously had a restraining order petitioned against him by a woman who was seemingly convinced he was communicating to her through her TV, and her interpretations of his “coded messages” probably were genuinely oppressive to her. David Letterman lived in another state, had never met her, and assuredly had no idea who she was. Her allegations of misconduct weren’t true, but they weren’t intended to mislead (and the fact that they did mislead a judge into signing off on her petition only underscores the complete absence of judicial responsibility in this legal arena).

Fraud, in contrast, is manipulative and deceptive by design. It occurs when an accuser intentionally lies (or spins the facts) to give a false impression and steer a judge toward a wrong conclusion that serves the interests of the fraudster.

Regardless, though, of whether false allegations are made knowingly or unknowingly, they’re rarely discerned as false by the court, are seldom acknowledged as false even if recognized as such, and are always destructive when treated as real, urgent, and true, which they commonly are.

The falsely accused (often private citizens who’ve never had a prior brush with the law) are publicly humiliated and shamed, which by itself is predictably traumatizing. They are besides invariably (and indefinitely) entered into police databases, both local and national, and may be entered into one or more domestic violence registries, too (also indefinitely). These facts pop up on background checks, and defendants in some states may even appear in registries accessible by anyone (including friends, neighbors, family members, boy- and girlfriends, employers, colleagues, students, patients, and/or clients).

This costs the falsely accused leases, loans, and jobs (being turned down for which, of course, aggravates the gnawing indignity and outrage they already feel). Those falsely accused of domestic violence may further be prohibited from attending school functions or working with or around children (permanently). Defendants of false restraining orders may besides be barred from their homes, children, assets, and possessions. Some (including salaried, professional men and women) are left ostracized and destitute. Retirees report having to live out of their cars.

This, remember, is the result of someone’s lodging a superficial complaint against them in a procedure that only requires that the accuser fill out some paperwork and briefly talk to a judge. A successful fraud may be based on nothing more substantive, in fact, than five “magic” words: “I’m afraid for my life” (which can be directed against anyone: a friend, a neighbor, an intimate, a spouse, a relative, a coworker—even a TV celebrity their speaker has never met).

This incantation takes a little over a second to utter (and its speaker, who can be a criminal or a mental case, need not even live in the same state as the accused).

Accordingly, people’s names and lives are trashed—and no surprise if they become unhinged. (Those five “magic” words, what’s more, may be uttered by the actual abusers in relationships to conceal their own misconduct and redirect blame. That includes, for example, stalkers. Those “magic” words may also be used to cover up any nature of other misbehavior, including criminal. They instantly discredit anything the accused might say about their speakers.)

The prescribed course of action to redress slanders and libels is a defamation suit, but allegations of defamation brought by those falsely accused on restraining orders or in related prosecutions are typically discounted by the court. Perjury (lying to the court) can’t be prosecuted by a private litigant (only by the district attorney’s office, which never does), and those who allege defamation are typically told the court has already ruled on the factualness of the restraining order petitioner’s testimony and that it can’t be reviewed (the facts may not even be reviewed by appellate judges, who may only consider whether the conduct of the previous judge demonstrated “clear abuse of discretion”). The plaintiff’s testimony, they’re told, is a res judicata—an already “decided thing.” (Never mind that docket time dedicated to the formation of that “decision” may literally have been a couple of minutes.)

So…slanders and libels made by abuse of court process aren’t actionable, slanders and libels that completely sunder the lives of the wrongly accused, who can’t even get them expunged from their records to simply reset their fractured lives to zero.

Such slanders and libels may include false allegations of stalking, physical or sexual aggression, assault, child abuse, or even rape. In the eyes of the court, someone’s being falsely implicated as a monster, publicly and for life, is no biggie.

In contrast, it was reported last month that the court awarded a Kansas woman $1,000,000 in a defamation suit brought against a radio station that falsely called her a “porn star.”

When violated people speak of legal inequities, this exemplifies what they’re talking about: Falsely and publicly implicating someone as a sex offender is fine and no grounds for complaint in the eyes of the justice system, but for the act of falsely and publicly calling someone a mere sex performer, someone may be fined a million bucks.

Copyright © 2014 RestrainingOrderAbuse.com