“A Skeptical Eye and a Generous Heart”: Perspectives on Daniel J. Freed from the Vera Institute of Justice

In learning what we had been up to in New York, Dan, as usual, displayed both a skeptical eye and a generous heart. He clearly and coolly considered the details of how we were approaching bail reform in New York City. And, because of his ability to combine close analysis with enormous generosity, he was able to see that there was a kernel of an idea there that was worth nurturing. In the end, Dan put a lot of eggs in the Vera basket by crediting the approach that this fledgling, upstart, unfunded organization was attempting to pursue. And, indeed, Vera’s approach was very much in evidence in the final report on bail that Dan and Patricia Wald wrote for the Committee. It is a testament to Dan’s intellect and effectiveness that every one of the Allen Committee’s recommendations was implemented—compensated counsel for indigent defendants, bail reform, creation of federal offices dealing with criminal justice and crime statistics, to name just some. Dan always gives people the benefit of the doubt. It is a true lesson to see how generous he can be. And this generosity of spirit is closely tied to his sense of decency and kindness. It is no surprise that Dan is closely associated with Robert Kennedy’s famous observation about the true purpose of the agency he oversaw: “It is, after all, not the Department of Prosecution but the Department of Justice over which the Attorney General presides.” Dan, with his skeptical eye and generous heart, stood for the spirit of Vera then and still does now.

While in London, we began to hang out together. We would go to various places together and observe different facets of the British criminal justice system—courtrooms, prisons, police stations, and the like. On these trips, even though I was the head of the Vera office, I would defer to Dan for the simple reason that Dan was, and is, a great man.

I will never forget one visit we made to a police station in North London. After a tour of the facility and a number of “official” conversations, we stayed on to have lunch with some of the police officers. Over sandwiches, I sat there and watched Dan interrogate these officers about their jobs, policies, and attitudes. And they hadn’t a clue that he was doing it.

Dan has a remarkable ability to get people to want to explain what they know and how they know it. It is an approach that worked well that day in London, where we gained valuable insight into how those cops set about their jobs, and has worked well throughout the years in his sentencing seminars for judges.

The reason it works has a lot to do with respect. Dan has respect for people doing work. It’s plain and simple. Dan is prepared to believe that people who are actually doing the work of criminal justice actually know something about it. This respect changes everything in the research dynamic. And its basic importance is why so many of his students over the years have followed, or tried to follow, in his example.

Dan also taught me the value of hanging out and observing what was happening around me. This may sound simple, but it turned out to be a profound intellectual process that he was letting me in on. Observing, and then asking yourself, “What would have to be true for what I saw to make sense?” changed how I saw the world and how Vera pursued much of its work when I became director.

Dan has been the author of many such life lessons.