Not a very informative article. Based on these 'snapshots', the life of a criminal-data analyst consists of:
1 - Pawning work off onto junior staff ("I task an analyst on my team with making a chart showing how the people and accounts are connected")
2 - Doing rudimentary tasks like logging into and rooting around Facebook which seem like big asks to tech-illiterate colleagues ("'So I’ve got this guy in here,' the detective says. 'We’re trying to get into his Facebook account. He's going to help us help us ID someone. You think you can help with that?'"/"the man gives me his Facebook account details. I log into his account, complete the research, log out, and thank the man for his help")
3 - Giving vague court testimony (he mentions video analysis a couple times, which would have been interesting to hear more about, alas.)
I understand that he can't discuss cases in too much detail, but if you can't mention any more particulars other than that you handled some video evidence, then what's the point of writing this at all?
Well each snapshot is a sort of short story emphasizing the humanity of criminals in a situation where their humanity is shown as being forgotten. It leads up to the final story where the author is indicating he has moved on to be a public defender.
It strikes me as a sort of justification for having resources available for the defense of the indicted, and the author seems to not want to paint the police badly either.
I found it an interesting insight in to what 'A day in the life of.. ' is like for Criminal-Data Analyst. The way it put a human face on things made for an interesting read. True, it is just a blurb for the author's book but it made the very good point of -
"Was the video altered?" "Kinda"
aspect of trials and expert evidence in terms of establishing a Guilty or Not Guilty verdict versus being Guilty or Innocent. Sometimes it is the 'who had the better lawyer' that establishes the trial outcome.
Would different questions have affected the outcome of the trial? I don’t think so. But shouldn’t a person who’s presumed innocent have access to someone like me, so those questions could be asked?
6 comments
[ 3.2 ms ] story [ 29.8 ms ] thread1 - Pawning work off onto junior staff ("I task an analyst on my team with making a chart showing how the people and accounts are connected")
2 - Doing rudimentary tasks like logging into and rooting around Facebook which seem like big asks to tech-illiterate colleagues ("'So I’ve got this guy in here,' the detective says. 'We’re trying to get into his Facebook account. He's going to help us help us ID someone. You think you can help with that?'"/"the man gives me his Facebook account details. I log into his account, complete the research, log out, and thank the man for his help")
3 - Giving vague court testimony (he mentions video analysis a couple times, which would have been interesting to hear more about, alas.)
I understand that he can't discuss cases in too much detail, but if you can't mention any more particulars other than that you handled some video evidence, then what's the point of writing this at all?
It strikes me as a sort of justification for having resources available for the defense of the indicted, and the author seems to not want to paint the police badly either.
Would different questions have affected the outcome of the trial? I don’t think so. But shouldn’t a person who’s presumed innocent have access to someone like me, so those questions could be asked?