Covid fears, then and now: On the occasion of the fifth anniversary of the start of the "two week" shutdown

The Covid lockdowns began five years ago this month. By early March 2020, ominous stories about this mysterious respiratory ailment – this novel virus – were becoming all too common, and it had already impacted Lunar New Year celebrations in Chicago. Of course, initially, we were encouraged to keep on doing our usual activities. A February 3, 2020 Block Club Chicago article quotes Lori Lightfoot, then Mayor of Chicago, as saying, at a news conference ahead of the Chinatown Lunar New Year Parade, that there was no reason for people to wear masks. She said public health officials had determined the risk to Chicagoans to be very low. Quoting now from the article: “‘As you can see, I’m not wearing a mask, and I won’t be because I don’t think it’s necessary,’ Lightfoot said.”

According to the article, only “two [Covid cases had] been reported in Chicago, [though] more than 17,000 cases of the virus have been reported worldwide, resulting in 360 deaths.” Despite the Mayor’s encouragement, however, the article notes that attendance for the parade was down – a bit – from what would ordinarily have been expected.

Things changed in a hurry.

And, of course, the same people who were saying c’mon down to Chinatown and party were, only weeks later, insisting that we stay inside our homes, locked up tight, for two weeks “to stop the spread.” And, yet, things hadn’t really spread much at all at that point.

The first death in Illinois was not announced until March 17, 2020. There were only a dozen new cases reported in the entire state on March 16. I am relying on myself for these numbers: I wrote about Covid frequently on For What It’s Worth; in writing those posts, I supplied links to the IDPH or City health authorities whenever possible. Unfortunately, all those links to the public health authorities have apparently expired or been removed. But my links survive.

In March 2020, I was scared. Maybe you weren’t scared, but I was. I know this was my thought process: How awful must this onrushing plague be that we have to suspend our lives, and basically close down the world? My imagination was in overdrive.

Part of the reason I was worried was because things went down so fast: On March 11, exactly five years ago today, I reprinted a press release from the Chief Judge’s Office that basically said the court was monitoring the changing situation but, while a couple of tours were canceled, and employees were encouraged to stay home if sick, the court’s business would continue.

The very next day, March 12, I reported a whole new round of cancellations of bar functions, including the cancellation of a CBA March Madness social, which could not very well have gone forward inasmuch as the NCAA had canceled March Madness itself.

My wife’s Catholic school effectively closed for the year with dismissal on Friday, March 13, as did all the other schools in the Archdiocese of Chicago. The public schools shut down then as well. The public celebration of Mass was suspended. Major League Baseball was suspended. And, only a couple of days after saying it would keep the doors open, the Circuit Court of Cook County announced that it was shutting down... sort of... for 30 days.

My second post on March 14 looked at the loopholes in this initial closure order, requiring discovery to proceed in civil cases, for example (remember, if you can, that at that time, most of us thought ‘Zoom’ was something cars did while speeding). One anonymous commenter grumbled that the court closure order “does little to decrease the number of people coming to court on the criminal side other than eliminating jurors.”

Although afraid of the virus, I was a little skeptical, too. Not as skeptical as one anonymous commenter who groused that the court closure order “is what happens when your judiciary is composed of a bunch of former government hack lawyers or low end insurance defense bottom feeders.” Over the next couple of years, the anger among some FWIW readers about the court closures would only grow. Some readers would demand that the courts reopen or they would vote ‘no’ on every single retention judge.

My skepticism, in those frightening early days of the shutdown, was much more tentative: Only 46 cases had been reported in Illinois as of March 14. Was sheltering in place for two whole weeks an overreaction? A doctor I’d known since we were both in undergrad was kind enough to try and explain why this virus was very serious indeed:

It's 20 times as likely to be fatal [as ordinary flu]. But the disaster is occurring because 20% of those who are able to survive still need inpatient medical care, often on a ventilator. That's unheard of even in a bad flu year. How many people do you know who have been hospitalized with flu, let alone on a ventilator? Not 20% of them, for sure.

Also, among those who survive, many will have permanently impaired lung function. The Hong Kong flu of 1968 left a few people respiratory cripples, but if you look at the number of new infections vs. people who are counted as recovered in Hubei province, for such a high percentage to still be sick this far out -- they may be young, but they will never feel like it again.

Also, flu hits you like a ton of bricks. It may kill you, but you're home in bed from the first few hours you're sick. These folks are walking around shedding virus for days before they realize they've got something more than seasonal allergies going on.

The idea that one could spread the disease for days before developing serious symptoms was particularly chilling. And, for me at least, that served as a reasonable explanation as to why it might make sense to shut the world down awhile, since isolating after actually getting sick would not help ‘stop the spread.’

But, of course, we didn’t shut the world down. Not right away. Not in Illinois. We had to conduct the 2020 primary first.

I was not happy about this. In my mind, at least, there was a critical distinction between the March primary and the November election. The latter would have to be held, regardless of the circumstances – if we could hold a national election in 1864 with the nation ravaged by civil war, we could surely conduct an election in November 2020. But a primary? We could postpone it to August without a backward glance (and, in fact, as you will recall, we did postpone it from March to late June in 2022). The morning before the 2020 primary I wrote:

Why are we doing this?

Every other social activity has been curtailed in the last week.

Sure, I understand momentum and money, lots of money, behind the election machinery. But there was a lot of money, much more money in fact, in pro sports, and in the collegiate tournaments. And momentum? The build-up to the NCAA basketball tournaments is more astounding every year. But the tournaments got cancelled anyway.

My youngest son is an assistant baseball coach at Illinois Tech (what we used to call the Illinois Institute of Technology). First, his spring training trip got cancelled. Then, his season. It's a D-III school, so the seniors on his team who were robbed of their final season were spared the discomfiture of crying before prying television cameras, as some local athletes, in higher profile programs, were not. But there were tears, just the same. And now my son is cleaning out his desk at school (he teaches in a south suburban middle school) trying to set his students up to learn from home for the foreseeable future.

My oldest son travels for a living. That went by the boards. For relaxation, he watches sporting events. He was planning on using some miles for a Spring Training trip to Arizona to see the budding White Sox powerhouse. Gone, all gone. With their busy schedules, he and his wife don't cook a lot at home; they dine out regularly.

Yesterday, that was taken away, too.

I could go on, but everyone reading this has their own stories, some far more serious. We are all disrupted. All at sea.

Eventually, of course, we got through this. Most of us. And, except for those still struggling with Long Covid, the whole experience seems like an increasingly distant dream. Even though the “two weeks” kept going and going and going... the Energizer Bunny was surely jealous....

But it may be important, as the fifth anniversary of the “two week” shutdown is upon us, to recall how we felt way back then.

As a history buff, I was initially receptive to the idea that this novel virus had originated in a Wuhan “wet market.” There was apparently evidence to show that prior pandemics had originated in China in similar ways – back in the early days of the two-weeks shutdown, possibly even in the actual first two weeks, I remember reading that even the deadly “Spanish Flu” outbreak of 1918 had been traced to a Chinese wet market.

And I recall registering no disagreement with the consensus that the theory... already swirling around the more disreputable corners of the Internet... that the virus had escaped from a laboratory in Wuhan... was tin-foil beanie poppycock.

The fact that there was (and, I guess, still is) a Wuhan Institute of Virology, that had been studying corona virus in bats for a decade or more prior to 2019, and located within a 40-minute drive of the Wuhan wet market (according to the BBC) was just an unhappy coincidence. How many times do we have to be reminded? Coincidence is not causation.

Except sometimes it can be, apparently.

The FBI, in early 2023, announced that it was convinced the Covid virus escaped from the Wuhan lab (see, “FBI chief Christopher Wray says China lab leak most likely,” BBC, March 1, 2023). At that time, as the linked article indicates, the World Health Organization and some other American intelligence agencies disagreed with that assessment. The CIA, in an assessment prepared for the outgoing Biden administration, but released just after President Trump was sworn in, has apparently agreed that the Covid virus escaped from a Wuhan lab, according to the AP, the agency has “low confidence” in its conclusion. (See, “The CIA believes COVID most likely originated from a lab but has low confidence in its own finding,” by David Klepper, AP, January 26, 2025.)

An assessment recently released by the Director of National Intelligence maintains that the Intelligence Community (the IC):

assesses that SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, probably emerged and infected humans through an initial small-scale exposure that occurred no later than November 2019 with the first known cluster of COVID-19 cases arising in Wuhan, China in December 2019. In addition, the IC was able to reach broad agreement on several other key issues. We judge the virus was not developed as a biological weapon. Most agencies also assess with low confidence that SARS-CoV-2 probably was not genetically engineered; however, two agencies believe there was not sufficient evidence to make an assessment either way. Finally, the IC assesses China’s officials did not have foreknowledge of the virus before the initial outbreak of COVID-19 emerged.

Almost five years down the road, you’d think that our superspies would have put more pieces of the puzzle together. The majority of the IC is absolutely certain sure that Covid was not developed as a bioweapon and was not genetically engineered. The certitude on this point is amazing, inasmuch as a virus that leaves “folks are walking around shedding virus for days before they realize they've got something more than seasonal allergies going on” sure seems like a useful component for a bioweapon. But, alright... if the Wuhan lab was not genetically engineering a virus or researching a bioweapon... then what was going on in the lab in Wuhan and how did this “novel” virus... that supposedly no one knew anything about five years ago... come to be in that lab in the first place?

Well, the IC has an explanation for its failure to figure this stuff out: It’s all the fault of the Chinese government. From the linked summary: “China’s cooperation most likely would be needed to reach a conclusive assessment of the origins of COVID-19. Beijing, however, continues to hinder the global investigation, resist sharing information and blame other countries, including the United States. These actions reflect, in part, China’s government’s own uncertainty about where an investigation could lead as well as its frustration the international community is using the issue to exert political pressure on China.”

It is very convenient to blame the Chinese... our great trading partner... and trading competitor... our rival in the renewed Space Race... and a likely potential opponent in a war, should things come to that.

There’s just one problem with blaming only the Chinese, and you’d think our superspies might have noticed it: It seems established now that the U.S. Government was actually funding research at the WIV because, according to this July 24, 2023 article in the British Medical Journal:

“The US Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) announced on 17 July that it would suspend and then end funding for the Wuhan Institute of Virology (WIV) in China to protect the public interest.

A memo was sent to the House of Representatives oversight select subcommittee which has been investigating US grants to WIV. The memo details a lengthy record of failed communications between US agencies and the Wuhan institute. It said that WIV repeatedly refused to provide requested laboratory notebooks, electronic data records, and other information about safety and security.

Granted, this is from a publicly-available summary of the article, not from the article itself (I am not a subscriber to the BMJ). Also, cutting off government funding to the WIV in 2023 does not prove that American taxpayers were funding Covid research in 2020, prior to the apparent escape of the virus from the lab. But what were we funding in Wuhan? And why didn’t we know about this five years ago? Somebody in the government knew.

In 2020, I was scared. In 2025, I am curious. Who knew what? How “novel” was this virus really? If the Covid virus that shut down the world in 2020 was not a bioweapon and was not manufactured, then what was being tested in Wuhan? Why? How? What was the government actually funding? Did we get what the government paid for? Five years on, one would think we’d know more about this than apparently we do.

And all these many unanswered questions arise independently of any consideration of questions surrounding the development, distribution, and efficacy of the Covid vaccines....

I suppose one reason for the lack of curiosity is political: THEY are interested in these things, therefore WE must not be.

What a load of road apples.

I say WE are just as entitled to answers here as THEY are. And I mean actual answers to hard questions, not meek acquiescence to whatever pap our “betters” hand out for us. Maybe WE are more entitled to complete and truthful answers; after all, WE are the ones who wore masks, just as we were asked to, even outside; and who lined up eagerly for the shots, as soon as we could; and who endured family parties on Zoom and who cried, on the inside or outwardly, each time we disconnected....

Too good to be entirely true: Cook County Jail detainees did not support Trump (or the retention judges) as much as we thought...

The news that President-Elect Donald Trump got a plurality of the votes cast in the precinct wherein the Cook County Jail is located got a lot of traction. FWIW jumped on the bandwagon, too, running a piece about that and then (staying on brand) looking at the judicial retention results reported in that precinct.

That's a map of the 19th precinct of the 24th Ward at the top of this piece. And it does indeed contain the Cook County Jail. But the boundaries are not coextensive.

My second look at this story was prompted by a question left in the comment queue. Last Friday night a sharp-eyed reader asked, "Hmm. Don't jail detainees vote absentee out of their home ward/suburb, therefore their totals would be included in those totals and not the 19th precinct of the 24th Ward???"

I didn't publish the comment until today, as I was preparing this article.

I didn't publish the comment because I didn't know the answer. I knew detainees voted from the jail. I knew Injustice Watch made a point of distributing its voter guide at the jail.

But that didn't answer the question. Sophia Ansari, Director of Public Relations and Communications for the Cook County Sheriff, explained that the FWIW reader had the gist of it: Ansari wrote FWIW that "individuals in custody vote based on their home addresses. One thing to clarify is that individuals in custody who are registered to vote in Cook County are voting in person, as the jail is an early voting polling place." So those votes would not have been counted in the 19th Precinct of the 24th Ward.

Moreover, Max Bever, the Director of Communications for the Chicago Board of Elections, confirmed that the Election Day polling place for the 19th Precinct of the 24th Ward is at Spry School, located on South Marshall Blvd. -- not in the jail. Jail detainees would not have been voting at the school.

But it is not entirely fake news: Bever told FWIW in an email, "1,479 Chicago voters [cast] a ballot from Cook County Jail for the November 5, 2024 General Election." The jail was an early voting site, and, according to Bever, there were "two weekends of Early Voting for Pre-Trial Detainees, held on Saturday, October 19; Sunday, October 20; Saturday, October 26; and Sunday, October 27." But 416 of the detainees "used Same Day Registration," Bever said, "which often indicates they used the jail as their address to vote." Therefore, Bever concluded, "it would be more accurate to say that some Pre-Trial Detainees’ ballots would be cast within the 19th Precinct of the 24th Ward, while other voters were previously registered elsewhere, or could provide proof of ID for an address outside the precinct for registration."

So the story is still that Trump carried the precinct in which Cook County Jail is located... but most of the votes counted there were not cast by detainees.... The story is not quite as intriguing as it may have first seemed.

Hat Tip to the Anonymous FWIW reader (why are they always anonymous?) who gently nudged me down the path of enlightenment.

Looking at the Ashonta Rice story from inside the bubble

Mystified.

Watching (and listening to and scrolling through) the news over the weekend, it struck me that the talking heads were downright mystified that early voting had been stopped, so soon after it started, because the Appellate Court ordered a name off the ballot.

I assume most FWIW readers knew what was going on: The Appellate Court had rejected Ashonta Rice's appeal. The court's order, as is typical in these ultra-time-sensitive cases, does not explain the court's reasoning, but promises that a decision will follow at a later date.

Early voting was impacted because, on February 5, the Appellate Court had entered a different order in that case.

That order was entered pursuant to Rice's Emergency Motion to Stay Enforcement of the January 10, 2024 Electoral Board Decision and the January 30, 2024 Trial Court Order. (The links here are to prior FWIW coverage, but those articles link back to the source decisions.) On February 5 the Appellate Court granted that emergency motion, ordering the election authorities "to include, print, and maintain the name of Ashonta C. Rice as a Democratic Party candidate for Circuit Court Judge for the Cook County Judicial Circuit (vacancy of Hon. Laura M. Sullivan) on all electronic voting machines, vote by mail ballots, overseas ballots, and other forms of ballot at the March 19, 2024 primary election, until further order of court."

The further order turned out to be the Appellate Court's February 16 Order advising that, upon due consideration, it agreed with the Electoral Board and the Circuit Court and Ashonta C. Rice should be removed from the ballot after all.

That outcome was not preordained by the February 5 Order -- obviously -- and I admit that I did not know what to make of that order at first. So I reached out to smart people. After getting some helpful responses, I provided this February 5 update to my post about the Circuit Court's disposition of Rice's appeal:

The Appellate Court has indeed this day entered a stay order directing that the candidate's name remain on the ballot, pending further order of court.

That's not a merits disposition; it was an order entered in response to the candidate's emergency motion for a stay.

There is a very expedited briefing schedule in place (everything, on both sides, must be in by Wednesday, as I understand it). Today's order prevents any actual diminution of the candidate's potential rights while the court addresses the merits of her claims.

Today's order is certainly not bad news for the candidate... but neither is it a 'ruling in her favor.'

(I included that bit about the February 5 Order not being a ruling in Rice's favor because I had earlier allowed in a comment that said, "The Appellate Court just ruled in favor of Ashonta while you are spewing all this negativity.)

I reported the facts, but I didn't put up a separate post about the February 5 order. Given the administrative nature of the order and the hyper-compressed briefing schedule, it seemed likely (at least to the smart people I talked to) that a merits decision would soon follow, one way or the other, and probably before early voting. Therefore, it seemed to be kind of a non-story.

Eleven days from the entry of an order in a not-yet-fully-briefed appeal to a merits disposition is extraordinarily prompt. Unfortunately, even at that torrid pace, the Appellate Court's merits order was not issued until after early voting began.

I probably should have put up a post.

But, even without a separte post, what was available right here on FWIW -- not behind any paywall -- should have been sufficient to allow local media outlets confused by the brief February 16 order to put together an accurate explanation of the events surrounding the temporary suspension of early voting. Instead, the initial reporting could have been interpreted, by the general public, as an instance of our Appellate Court running amuck through our fragile democratic institutions for no apparent reason.

Looking again this morning, it seems that most of the TV websites have caught up with the facts of the story, and have traced the brief pause in early voting to the February 5 order.

Better late than never, I suppose.

This little factoid in an updated NBC5 story caught my attention, however: "At this stage of early voting, the [Chicago Board of Elections] typically expects about two to 300 ballots be cast each day."

I assume this was badly written... the writer probably meant 200 to 300... not that there would be a day where only two persons might stumble into the downtown Supersites looking to cast a ballot. But, still, is the enormous expansion of early voting really worth it for the 1500 or 2000 votes a week it brings in during the early stages of the early voting period? If obliged to make different arrangements, wouldn't most of these super-early-voters make them, and vote at different times? Has anyone figured out a way to measure this?

I will concede that expanded early voting is offered with the best of intentions. But the Appellate Court was likewise acting with the best of intentions when it ordered Ashonta Rice back on the ballot temporarily, whilst it considered her appeal. The drafters of the Election Code presumably also had the best of intentions when they mapped out the methods by which disappointed candidates could appeal adverse electoral board determinations. Ultimately, however, when you increase the number of days for early voting, you put candidate challenges on a collision course with principles of due process. The more you push one way, the more conflicts result. Because the number of available days on the calendar does not expand despite the jumble of all these accumulated good intentions. And confusion can result.

It did result here.

Maybe we should talk about this.

Judge's Tweets land him in Judge's Jail

That's the gist of an Order entered by the Executive Committee of the Circuit Court of Cook County on August 25, assigning Associate Judge Gregory E. Ahern, Jr. to "restricted duties or duties other than judicial duties in the office of the Presiding Judge of the First Municipal District."

Here, verbatim, are the findings made by the Executive Committee in Special Order No. 2023-121:

On Tuesday, August 15, 2023, the court was informed by an established local media outlet that Associate Judge Gregory E. Ahern, Jr., had used the Internet and his account on the "X" (f/k/a Twitter) social media networking platform to publicly express his agreement with, or support for, comments by other persons that can reasonably be interpreted as suggesting a bias or prejudice that demeans individuals based upon their race, gender, gender identity, or sexual orientation;

If made, the expressions of support or agreement would appear to a reasonable person to undermine Judge Ahem's judicial independence, integrity, or impartiality, in violation of Ill. Code ofJudicial Conduct (2023), R. 3.1."

The Court's Order states that reassignment was made "to promote public confidence in the integrity and impartiality of the judiciary." Banishment to Judge's Jail carries with it, in accordance with the Court's recent practice, a referral to the Judicial Inquiry Board.

This is obviously an incomplete story. I don't like incomplete stories.

In my opinion, at this point anyway, the key words in the Court's Order, quoted above, are that Judge Ahern was reported "by an established local media outlet."

That would suggest that a reporter found whatever-it-was that Ahern had 'expressed agreement or support' for (which I hope is understood may not necessarily be the same thing as 'said') and thought it was so egregious that it was worthy of reporting. Seeking comment from the Chief Judge's Office would be entirely appropriate before running the story -- Journalism 101 stuff -- and the 'established local media outlet' is not, and should not be deemed, responsible for the consequences of seeking said comment.

But where is the story?

When established local media outlets -- even FWIW -- have enough to publish, we publish. Whatever "comments by other persons" that Ahern "publicly express[ed] his agreement with, or support for" are not disclosed by the Court in its Order (I've asked for details from the Chief Judge's Office and I'll update if these are provided). But one would think the "established media outlet" would have run a story. That's where the damning details, if there are any, should be.

But my search this morning has come up empty. I don't subscribe to every "established local media outlet" (is there a list somewhere?) but Google should have ferreted out something, even if the full story languishes inside a paywall.

Non-lawyers reading this post might be expecting me to launch on a First Amendment screed at this point.

But, of course, that's not going to happen.

Judges get a lot of perks with their jobs -- good salary, benefits, deferential treatment from lawyers (especially from wannabe judges) -- many good things. But judges are, by definition, professional neutrals. They leave some First Amendment rights behind when they take their oaths. It's a knowing and deliberate trade-off.

Let's look at Rule 3.1 of the 2023 Illinois Code of Judicial Conduct:

RULE 3.1: EXTRAJUDICIAL ACTIVITIES IN GENERAL

A judge may engage in extrajudicial activities, except as prohibited by law or this Code. However, when engaging in extrajudicial activities, a judge shall not:

(A)  participate in activities that will interfere with the proper performance of the judge’s judicial duties;

(B)  participate in activities that will lead to frequent disqualification of the judge;

(C)  participate in activities that would appear to a reasonable person to undermine the judge’s independence, integrity, or impartiality;

(D)  engage in conduct that would appear to a reasonable person to be coercive; or

(E)  make use of court premises, staff, stationery, equipment, or other resources, except for incidental use.

I've eliminated the asterisks that denote use of the defined terms "law", "independence", "integrity", and "impartiality", but the interested reader is encouraged to consult the Code to review these definitions.

For our purposes here, suffice it to say that judges should not publicly express opinions on the issues of the day. Even non-controversial ones. (Or seemingly non-controversial ones. Controversies seem to erupt out of nowhere sometimes.) Any judge who takes a public stance, pro or con, on any issue is, you should pardon the expression, courting trouble.

On the other hand, the Order banishing Ahern is rather delicately worded: It does not say he took a stand or necessarily said anything. Rather, it says he "expressed his agreement with, or support for, comments by other persons."

Judges come from the ranks of lawyers. And lawyers rank among the least technologically sophisticated people on Earth. Think of that poor man in Texas who couldn't get the cat filter off his Zoom feed during Covid. A lot of lawyers used desktop computers more for paperweights than anything else for the longest time. Efiling hath made users of us all... but some may still have limited actual participation in the document creation and filing process.

Could Ahern have merely "liked" something on Twitter? (Sorry, Elon, "X" is really hard for me to write -- it looks wrong.) Could someone have misinterpreted that as agreement or support? Would judges on the Executive Committee necessarily understand that "liking" something on X merely makes it possible to navigate back to it later? I do not suggest that there is an "innocent construction" available here, because I don't know all the facts, but I wonder if it might be possible. My X page -- Twitter page -- used to say "Favorites and RT's indicate interest, but not necessarily agreement."

Which is easy enough for me to say -- first of all, I'm allowed to have opinions, if I wanted to, not that anyone would care, and, second, it's absolutely true in my case: Clicking "like" doesn't automatically mean I actually like, or agree with, the post in question. It might. But then it might also mean only that I may want to look at it again. Sometimes I even do go back and look.

Anyway, today, I've revised my "X" profile to clarify -- 'favorites' having somewhere given way to 'likes' on the Twitter/X platform -- that "'Likes' and RT's indicate interest, but not necessarily agreement." Would a similar profile statement be sufficient to protect a judge against an accusation of 'supporting' or 'agreeing' with a 'liked' post? Whatever the facts may be in Judge Ahern's case, a lot of FWIW readers will want an answer to that question -- and may want to check their profiles, too.

I here mean to express no opinion about what Ahern said, or didn't say, or what he did or did not do online. I don't express any opinion because I don't know what actually happened. If more people refrained from expressing full-throated, full-throttle opinions online until possessed of all relevant facts, we'd all be a lot better off. That opinion, I will express.

Bertina Lampkin: Not the retiring type

To no one's surprise, except perhaps my own, I am not Facebook "friends" with every Cook County judge.

Some current judges "friended" me during their initial campaigns and didn't dump me immediately after winning. Which was nice. Sometimes I "like" one of their posts, sometimes they "like" one of mine. A few are pretty active in my Facebook feed.

Appellate Court Justice Bertina Lampkin is not one of these. I heard that she'd put up a Facebook post about her plans to retire from that court -- she doesn't have any, as you can now see -- but, when I went to investigate, I found at least three Bertina Lampkin Facebook pages. That may mean that two of the three are phantoms -- hacked pages. It seems like nearly every week I get an invite to "friend" someone I've been "friends" with for years. Some of these I actually know in real life, so I can verify that a bad actor has decided to appropriate one of my IRL friend's Facebook accounts. What I don't understand is why a bad actor would do this; there's no money in fake Facebook pages that I can figure.

Multiple pages might also mean that Justice Lampkin started different Facebook pages at different times and for different purposes and abandoned two of them. That happens, too. Facebook is apparently forever. I get far too many birthday announcements on Facebook for people who have departed this vale of tears. Who knows? Maybe there's Wi-Fi in Heaven. Maybe, there, it's even reliable. But while the Rockies may crumble, and Gibraltar may tumble, old Facebook accounts, even abandoned ones, are apparently here to stay.

But let me come back to the subject here. I had this rumor. I investigated. I did not find the rumored post.

In one sense, that's good, obviously.

Any Facebook user, but especially a Facebook user who serves in the judiciary, should be extremely careful about privacy settings. I tell people not to post anything on Facebook that you couldn't have read back from the pulpit by your pastor (or rabbi, or imam, or whatever). And that's with controlling your privacy settings -- because, once you turn something loose on the world, one of your Facebook "friends" might redirect your message out of your network, and plunge you into unwanted controversy.

But, being unable to verify the message, even though I had reliable sources, I was hesitant to go with the story.

I could try to "friend" Justice Lampkin, presumptuous fellow that I am, and thereby (at least presumably) gain access to the rumored post, but that meant also potentially friending two Russian bots. Or whatever.

So the story has remained on hold.

Until today... when I got this screen grab from someone. Someone named Anonymous, of course. It wouldn't be FWIW if people used their names.

But, anyway, now I think I have enough to run the story... which you've just read.

It's not the whole story. It's not necessarily even the most interesting part of the story. That would involve finding out who is telling potential Appellate Court candidates that Justice Lampkin is retiring soon, and why. In fact, from what I'm hearing, Justice Lampkin is not the only serving Appellate Court justice who is having to fend off unwanted resignation rumors. Why? The dots seem pretty easy to connect... but that would involve some speculation. And I try to refrain from speculation.

If I can add to this story later, however, I will.

Accused of making racist comments, Judge Hooks recuses himself from domestic battery case

Most FWIW readers know more about the particulars of this story, or at least think they do, than I do. What I know I've learned from media accounts -- which, all too often, botch the simplest facts or, perhaps just as bad, fail to ask the most obvious questions.

Just one example. Experienced criminal practitioners probably knew the answer to this, but I hardly ever set foot in a criminal courtroom, so I had no clue: The alleged racist remarks came at a pretrial conference in January. The motion for substitution of judge was apparently quite recent. Was the motion timely?

I can infer, from the reference to affidavits in the media accounts, that the motion was brought under §114-5(d) of the Code of Criminal Procedure, 725 ILCS 5/114-5(d), as opposed to §114-5(a), 725 ILCS 5/114-5(a), which requires a motion for substitution of judge to be brought "[w]ithin 10 days after a cause involving only one defendant has been placed on the trial call of a judge." In contrast, §114-5(d) allows the motion to be filed, for cause, with at least one supporting affidavit, at any time. Maybe the pretrial conference was set, and would typically be scheduled, after the 10-day deadline had passed. Experienced prosecutors or criminal defense attorneys would know the answer to this question without batting an eye. I would not. But it's still curious that it would take from January to June to put such a motion on file. If a judge made racist assertions, or not-so-very-veiled threats, about me or my client, or both, as is apparently the original allegation here, I would expect most attorneys would want to memorialize the misbehavior as soon as possible.

But what do I know?

What I do know -- and find interesting -- is the roundabout means by which I came upon the latest development in this story: The ISBA E-Clips in my email this morning led off with this story, citing to an account published in the Rock Island Dispatch-Argus. But this was not a dispatch filed from exotic Cook County by a Rock Island Dispatch-Argus reporter; rather, it was an apparent reprint of a story by Madeline Buckley, that first appeared in the Chicago Tribune. The Downstate paper apparently had a paywall that could be more easily breached, at least for a single story. And new, original content is so rare it must be shared. Such is media in the 21st Century.

I also know that recusal will prevent an immediate hearing on the merits of the motion.

Section 114-5(d) provides that, once a for-cause SOJ motion is filed, a hearing shall be conducted as soon as possible after its filing by a judge not named in the motion; provided, however, that the judge named in the motion need not testify, but may submit an affidavit if the judge wishes. If the motion is allowed, the case shall be assigned to a judge not named in the motion. If the motion is denied the case shall be assigned back to the judge named in the motion."

Counsel bringing the motion is reportedly upset that the recusal will derail that hearing -- but, under the statute, if the motion were denied, the case would have been returned to Judge Hooks. Which would have been awkward for all concerned.

I don't know, but I suspect, that this will not be the end of this story. Given the serious nature of the allegations, and counter-allegations, and allegations about the response to the allegations, there may well be inquiries opened by both ARDC and JIB. We won't hear about these unless public charges are brought. Which may never happen. But it seems likely that inquiries will continue.

Serious questions raised in memo published by Injustice Watch about Cook County judicial candidate

About Judge Gudino, certainly. But about much more than Judge Gudino as well.

Let us assume -- indeed, let us stipulate -- that the facts as reported yesterday in the Injustice Watch story by Carlos Ballesteros and Maya Dukmasova, "Cook County judge accused of physical and verbal harassment when she was a prosecutor; office says allegations were 'unsubstantiated,'" are 100% accurate, namely, that there is a memo, written in 2018 by now-Judge Gudino's then-supervisor in the Office of the Cook County State's Attorney, which memo purports to document incidents of harassment and other unseemly conduct by Gudino toward her fellow ASAs. Given the most innocent construction possible, the memo at best sketches a person who cannot get along or work well with her colleagues.

There appears to be documentation -- the damning memo -- so there should be no reason not to run with the story, right?

I'm not an editor. But, if I were, and this story was presented to me, the documentation notwithstanding, I would want some additional questions answered, or at least explored, before I would let the story out. If I let it out at all.

Why is this memo only coming to light now?

In any sensational last-minute election story, the timing is always suspcious. We're used to these 11th-hour bombshells in other kinds of campaigns. In other elections candidates and their supporters are often anxious about an "October surprise." These kinds of stories are always damaging, but not always true. The veracity of the sensational challenges can not always be properly explored in the pressure-packed days before the election.

In judicial elections the timing is even more suspicious. And troubling. And why do I say that?

Because we have, or think we have, a very thorough evaluation system for judicial hopefuls -- two independent systems, actually -- the original, run by the Chicago Bar Association, and the other, run by the 12-member Alliance of Bar Associations for Judicial Screening.

The complete evaluations of Judge Gudino released by each of these bar groups is set out, in full, in my Organizing the Data post for the race in which Judge Gudino is a candidate.

But to summarize, Gudino was found qualified or better by every bar group that evaluated her credentials (the Arab American Bar Association did not evaluate Gudino, but that was not the candidate's fault). The Lesbian and Gay Bar Association of Chicago and the Puerto Rican Bar Association found Gudino Highly Recommended; the Hispanic Lawyers Association of Illinois found Gudino Highly Qualified.

The Chicago Bar Association said Gudino is "well regarded" for her "excellent demeanor and temperament." The Chicago Council of Lawyers said Gudino is "praised for having an even keel temperament and for being hard-working." The Illinois State Bar Association said, "Attorneys report that [Gudino] is an excellent attorney with good litigation skills, professional, and a hard worker."

These evaluations are not pulled out of the ether, or from a crystal ball; rather, they are the product of lengthy, independent, and confidential investigation. Candidates have to fill out lengthy questionnaires for both the Alliance and the CBA (similar, but just different enough that copy-and-paste does not always work) disclosing not just references (anybody can find someone to say something nice about them), but also adversary references (people against whom one has had cases, who may not be automatically disposed to say anything nice about a judicial hopeful), and judicial references (judges before whom a candidate has appeared).

None of these inquiries may get to the persons referred to in the memo in Gudino's case, or to its author. But the questionnaires go deeper still. Quoting now from the Alliance questionnaire, a judicial hopeful is required to "[p]rovide the names and current contact information for at least four partners, associates, office-sharers, or other colleagues who are familiar with your work in that position. Indicate the status/title of each reference. At least one of these references should be a supervisor and one should be a subordinate, unless you had none, in which case you should so indicate."

I stressed that the evaluations are confidential. So even if -- just to hypothesize -- the memo in question was buried, and all concerned strictly admonished not to breathe a word about its contents under pain of some sort of sanction -- when a CBA or Alliance investigator calls supervisors or subordinates to follow up on the candidate's questionnaire disclosures, there was a perfectly safe opportunity to reveal the behaviors described in the memo. I can well imagine people keeping quiet about a troublesome colleague in the ordinary course of events (every trade or profession has its own code of silence when you stop to think about it) but I find it difficult to imagine that no one would mention troubling behavior, in confidence, to a bar investigator, when a safe opportunity to do so presented itself.

I am aware of instances, both as a former candidate subject to bar association screening, and as a close observer of the screening process (albeit from the outside) lo these many years, where unflattering information, once called to light about a candidate, has been thoroughly explored. As a candidate waiting for my own interview, I have sat outside hearing rooms where questions and answers became quite loud and heated.

So -- if the Gudino memo is accurate (in the sense of truthfully relating events that occurred) -- that means the investigation processes of both the Chicago Bar Association and the Alliance of Bar Associations for Judicial Screening were defective and incomplete. With all due respect to Injustice Watch, that would be a much bigger story than salacious allegations against a single candidate on the eve of the primary.

But it would be a much harder story to report.

In this instance the confidential nature of the bar evaluation process would hurt more than it helps. We can't find out who the investigators were from the two bar groups; we can't see the disclosures the candidate made about supervisors and subordinates. We would have to depend on a whistle-blower from inside one or both groups to come forward -- in violation of their own written oaths, by the way -- to reveal whether the ball was dropped in this case or, even worse, whether unflattering evidence was simply ignored.

Oh, that would be a story: A slated candidate gets a pass from all the bar group JECs, despite information that may suggest unfitness for judicial service, because... because... because.... Oh, wait. There's no easy answer, is there? Because all the dozens of persons involved think the County Democratic Party will reward their turning a collective blind eye with their own judgeships someday? Sure. And 500,000 co-conspirators were involved in faking the Moon landings, too. That's tin-foil beanie stuff.

On the other hand, the memo can still be accurate (saying what it says) but unfounded in the sense that the things alleged did not happen, or did not happen in the way they were reported. For all we know -- at present, on the information actually available -- the bar evaluation process might have worked just as intended and at least some of the persons who were supposedly harassed were in fact interviewed and, despite having a "free shot," said only good things.

The point is that we don't know what the truth is here. And if I were the editor, I'd have been hesitant to let this story through.

At this time.

There are a lot of questions that come to mind reading all the bar group narratives. There are inconsistencies -- the same bar group said "no" to this candidate with a political background and limited courtroom experience but "yes" to a seemingly similar one. Some evaluation read like a clear "no" only to find, on the bottom line, that "on balance" the bar group says "yes." What balanced the scales in these cases? And other evaluations look, if not glowing, then at least as positive as many favorable reviews of other candidates, only to conclude that this particular candidate was not qualified. Why?

Charges of political partisanship, ethnic solidarity, age discrimination, packing of hearing rooms (with friends of the candidate, or enemies) always surface when bar evaluations come out. Some are surely sour grapes. Some disappointed persons will loudly insist that their references were never contacted. Perhaps sometimes this may be true.

So it's more than just a single candidate that is implicated by yesterday's Injustice Watch story. Whether it was intended as such or not, it is an indictment of the entire evaluation process -- and there is no memo available about that.

6th Subcircuit situation provides opportunity to explain what is news and what is not news

Learning how to read the news, especially online, is an increasingly necessary skill, one that should perhaps be taught in schools.

There's always been the problem of separating solid, factual reporting from misinformation and downright lies. But, added to that, is the problem that people who undertake to report on a subject sometimes don't know the subject well enough to distinguish between what is news and what is normal.

Here's an old, but useful, definition of news: Dog bites man is not news; man bites dog is. (For more than you ever wanted to know about the origin of that saying, click here.)

A more contemporary example, and one particularly relevant to this site, might be this: When no Republicans file for any Cook County judicial vacancy, that is not news -- but when no one at all files for either 6th Subcircuit vacancy, that is news. Over the past several election cycles, when there have been 6th Subcircuit vacancies, those races have drawn a great many candidates.

And, yet, as of this writing (and I just checked again) no one has filed petitions to run for either 6th Subcircuit vacancy in the June 28 Democratic Primary.

That's not something one would expect. That, therefore, is news.

FWIW has learned that there are at least four candidates eyeing the two 6th Subcircuit races. According to multiple sources, two associate judges, Charles S. Beach and Kerrie Maloney Laytin, are circulating petitions, as are David Rodriguez, an employee of the Circuit Court Clerk's Office and Assistant Public Defender Lori Roper.

Rodriguez filed for a 6th Subcircuit vacancy in the 2020 primary but was not on the primary ballot.

Roper sought a countywide vacancy in 2018. In this cycle she has already picked up an endorsement from the 40th Ward Democratic Organization.

Beach became an associate judge in 2018. He was a candidate for a 6th Subcircuit vacancy earlier that same year.

Laytin was one of the associate judges selected just last Fall. She was a candidate for a countywide vacancy in the 2020 primary.

Trying to avoid the Observer Effect... or... did you get that in writing?

Although Schrödinger’s Cat is only marginally related to any discussion of the

Observer Effect, on the Internet, any observation of kittens pulls in extra eyeballs.

In physics, the Observer Effect is defined as the disturbance of an observed system by the act of observation itself.

In psychology, the Observer Effect, also called the Hawthorne Effect, refers to how persons being observed tend to change their behavior because they are being observed. In other words, the playground bully was a perfect angel when Sister was watching -- but watch out when Sister turned her back!

The political system is ordinarily closed to and, indeed, hostile to, observation. (We don't want nobody nobody sent.) To the extent that they may sometimes make observations of the political system in operation, journalists (including lawyers who function as journalists, or try to) may well cause those observed to alter their behavior.

On a macro level, this is undoubtedly a good thing. As Thomas Jefferson said, "Were it left to me to decide whether we should have a government without newspapers, or newspapers without a government, I should not hesitate a moment to prefer the latter." Despite his many hypocrisies, the man could turn a phrase. Even when he contradicted himself. (Also Jefferson: "Nothing can now be believed which is seen in a newspaper. Truth itself becomes suspicious by being put into that polluted vehicle.")

Whatever. I take it as an article of faith that 'sunshine is the best disinfectant.' (The exact Brandeis quote is, "Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman.") I sincerely hope that, in some small way, because I have brought attention to the process, this site has contributed to the improvement of the local judiciary.

But, on a micro level, on the individual level, I worry. For over 25 years I wanted to be a judge. I can empathize, very sincerely, with those many lawyers who also wish to be judges, and, necessarily, therefore, also with those who aspire to a temporary appointment by the Illinois Supreme Court. I reserve the right to like some people who are chosen better than others, or even not at all, but, whether I know them or not, whether I've ever heard of them before or not, I can relate to their ambition. So, in general, I don't want something I do or say here to undermine any specific individual aspirant.

But... sometimes news happens. It would be fair game, by any journalistic standard, to report it. But I also know how the Observer Effect can work in politics (and anybody who tells you judicial appointments aren't political is selling you hokum): The premature disclosure of a likely appointment may make said likely appointment extremely unlikely.

So when I heard about a person appearing before the Democratic Party's Pre-Slate Making meeting last week and informing the Party worthies that said person was about to be appointed to one of the vacancies recently posted by Justice Theis, that was fair game. I could have reported that immediately; I didn't need to wait for the anonymous comments to stack up in my comment queue (three, as of this morning) with the same information.

But I didn't do that. Not right away. Instead, armed with the tools acquired in Journalism 101 (whatever the course was actually called at Loyola some 45 years ago) I reached out to the Supreme Court's press officer and sought confirmation concerning the appointment and whether an announcement of the appointment in question was imminent. Maybe I'd even ferret out word about the second appointee.

Alas. Word came back, and promptly, too, that no announcement is imminent regarding the two Theis vacancies.

So I've continued to sit on the story. Even though all sorts of people seem to know about it already. And that public knowledge may or may not trigger the Observer Effect.

Mind you, if I were a Supreme Court Justice and I had indicated to a person prior to the pre-slating meeting that he or she was likely to get my nod for a particular appointment, I would probably have encouraged that person to add his or her name to the list of persons presenting credentials. So word would get out, but I would not be offended. Or, if I wanted to hold off on the announcement for my own purposes, I might have called Jacob Kaplan myself and explained the situation, advising that my person would be adding his or her name to those scheduled to appear but that I didn't want my prospective appointee to mention it. In which case I might be a tad miffed if said prospective appointee spilled the beans and possibly motivated, then, to look elsewhere.

If the Observer Effect submarines anyone here, I have a clear conscience. But, good heavens, what a crazy process we have.

Did the City of Chicago bargain with unions other than the FOP over vaccination mandate?

I'm not taking sides here. But I am looking for context. And what I have read and seen suggests questions that, insofar as I can tell, have not been answsered by the public reporting to date.

Let's start with what I think we can all agree on:

Within a short time after COVID-19 vaccines became widely available, the push began for mandatory vaccinations.

Some public unions have been reported to be in favor of mandates. Some have been reported as not being in favor of mandates.

That's about as much as I think is entirely undisputed.

(Let me also make this full disclosure, so there's no doubt about where I'm coming from: I am as vaccinated as I can be at the present time. When the Moderna booster shot becomes available, and when I am permitted so to do, I will rush out and get that third shot.)

Now, then. Take a deep breath and let's look together at some prior reporting on the issue.

In August, the Chicago Public Schools announced that all employees, including all teachers, would have to be vaccinated by October 15. An article by Maia Spoto, on Chalkbeat Chicago, last updated August 13, entitled, "Chicago says teachers must get vaccinated by Oct. 15 or be ineligible for work," states that the Chicago Teachers Union "welcomed the mandate urged the district to commit to additional safety and recovery measures before schools reopen, such as strengthening and expanding the school vaccination program."

The Chalkbeat Chicago story provided a summary of the then-ongoing negotiations with the CTU over conditions for reopening the schools. It also contained this paragraph about the response of national teachers' unions to vaccination mandates generally:

The leaders of the country’s two national teachers unions have also voiced support for vaccine mandates. The National Education Association’s president called the requirements an “appropriate, responsible, and necessary step” on Thursday, while the American Federation of Teachers’ president personally backed mandates earlier this week. The official position of the AFT, of which the Chicago Teachers Union is an affiliate, is that unions and districts should collaborate on requirements before they are decided.

In September, after President Biden announced a vaccine mandate for federal employees, Ballotpedia ran an article, by Jerrick Adams, entitled "Public-sector union responses to COVID-19 vaccine mandates," providing a roundup of how various public sector unions around the country responded to the President's directive in particular and how other vaccine mandates had been received in several states.

This is a fairly lengthy article, and I urge the skeptical reader to read it in its entirety. But, to summarize, most public sector unions, even those welcoming a mandate, expected to bargain over any implementation. Thus, AFL-CIO President Liz Shuler is quoted as saying on September 10 that, while the organization 'commends' President Biden for his actions, "Workers and unions should have a voice in shaping these policies."

American Federation of Government Employees President Everett Kelley was quoted as saying that, while the union has strongly supported vaccination efforts, "we have said that [vaccine mandates] should be negotiated with our bargaining units where appropriate. * * * We expect to bargain over this change prior to implementation, and we urge everyone who is able to get vaccinated as soon as they can do so."

It also turns out the Chicago FOP is not the only law enforcement union that does not welcome vaccine mandates. Federal Law Enforcement Officers Association President Larry Cosme is quoted in Adams's article as saying, "The Biden-Harris Administration’s action to mandate the COVID-19 vaccine for all federal employees is ill conceived. … This executive order villainizes employees for reasonable concerns and hesitancies and inserts the federal government into individual medical decisions. People should not be made to feel uncomfortable for making a reasonable medical choice."

The state-by-state roundup was similar (Illinois was not included). This paragraph of the California roundup caught my eye in particular:

Some [California] unions, including SEIU Local 1000, the International Union of Operating Engineers, and Cal Fire Local 2881, filed complaints following the mandate. SEIU Local 1000 sent a cease and desist letter to the California Department of Human Resources that said, "This is a change in the terms and working conditions of our represented employees and requires meeting and conferring with the union prior to implementing the change." Tim Edwards, president of Cal Fire Local 2881, said, "We oppose mandating vaccinations and believe the state has a contractual obligation to meet and confer with labor over any possible impacts to the employees."

A September 23 article on Government Executive, by Courtney Bublé, entitled "Will Federal Employee Unions Challenge Biden’s Vaccine Mandate in Court?" answered the question in the headline largely in the negative -- but indicated that unions, even those favoring the mandate, expected to bargain over its implementation, even if the scope of bargaining was limited.

An August article on the website of the Society for Human Resource Management entitled, "Must Employers Bargain with Unions over Mandatory Vaccines?" explained why, in general, unions, even those welcoming vaccine mandates, might nevertheless insist on the right to bargain over their implementation.

Just this past weekend, ABC-7 published a post entitled, "IL Governor JB Pritzker delays COVID vaccine deadline for some state workers." The printed article states, in pertinent part:

Pritzker's administration has reached agreements with several unions representing state workers. But negotiations continue with the American Federation of State, County and Municipal Employees Council 31 and Teamsters Local 700. AFSCME, which represents some 15,000 state workers affected by the requirement, objected to what it called "rigid mandates."

* * * * * *

Under the agreements reached so far, workers who don't comply with the mandate will face "progressive disciplinary measures" that could result in termination. The agreements provide an alternative COVID-19 testing option only for people with an approved religious or medical objection.

There is no question that it is easier to negotiate with someone who is inclined to agree with you on the subject of the negotiation. One need not be a labor lawyer to know that. It would obviously be far easier for the Mayor to negotiate the implementation of a vaccine mandate with a union that supports vaccination than with one that does not. But it sure seems like our elected officials, probably including the Mayor but certainly including the Governor, have been negotiating implementation of the vaccine mandates with at least some public employee unions.

Another takeaway from all these articles is that, at some point, if negotiations fail, the unilateral implementation of a vaccine mandate may well be upheld, the language of the union contract notwithstanding. However, negotations may have to be given the opportunity to succeed before unilateral action can be taken. (That's not a prediction of likely judicial outcomes based on case by case research, just a conclusion reached after reading published accounts on the subject.)

So the questions I'd be asking my reporters to follow up on, were I the editor of a newspaper with the resources to investigate answers, are as follows:

1. Did the City of Chicago bargain the implementation of the vaccine mandate with its unions other than the FOP?


2. If so, what did the other unions agree to?


3. Were these terms, or similar terms, offered to the FOP?


4. If not, why not?

Answers to these questions might be helpful in understanding the merits, if any, of the parties' respective positions.

Mask mandates coming back -- and it's easy to see why

The City reimposed an indoor mask mandate yesterday. The Cook County Department of Public Health is following suit effective Monday, August 23.

What a difference a month makes. Here's today's City of Chicago COVID-19 Dashboard:

Compare with values from July 10 to the present as reflected in this chart:

(If you want to see snapshots of the COVID-19 Dashboards from which these figures are taken, look at this post.)

Things are getting worse. Objectively.

In these weekend 'Rona posts, I've been comparing how we here in True Blue, enlighted Chicago and County Cook are faring compared to those Yahoos in the hinterlands that the media makes fun of.

Oddly enough, though, not all of the actual facts fit the established narrative. In this July 31 post I documented how Chicago was actually dragging down Illinois' vaccination numbers.

They still are: The August 21 chart above shows that 54.4% of Chicagoans are fully vaccinated; 59.8% of city residents have received at least one dose. According to this August 20 press release from the Illinois Department of Public Health, more than 60% of Illinoisans are fully vaccinated and over 77% have received at least one dose.

For what it's worth, Illinois' vaccination rate varies from source to source. The Mayo Clinic reports lower numbers for our fair State. According to the Mayo Clinic, only 50.2% of Illinoisans are fully vaccinated, while 64.8% have received at least one dose. I can't explain why there's such a large discrepancy. Here is what the Mayo Clinic says it takes into account in compiling the numbers it reports:

Vaccine data is updated daily. Data is compiled from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. We also use historical data from The COVID Tracking Project. State population data is from the 2019 census estimates from the United States Census Bureau.

For the sake of comparison, the State of Florida reports 66% of its population is "vaccinated" (report published August 20). The report does not distinguish between persons receiving one vaccination and those fully vaccinated. So I will not speculate as to whether Florida claims a better overall vaccination rate than Illinois, although that is surely one interpretation of the numbers.

But just as in the case of Illinois, the Mayo Clinic figures are less generous for Florida, too: According to the Mayo Clinic only 51% of Florida residents are fully vaccinated. So just a little bit better than Illinois.

Wait... what? Florida?

It gets worse: The fully vaccinated figures are broken down by age groups on the Mayo Clinic website. In the 18-64 age group, 55.4% of Illinoisans are fully vaccinated -- but so are 54.8% of Floridians. We've done a better job vaccinating eligible school-age young people: 13.9% of those under 18 are vaccinated in Illinois, while only 10.8% of Floridians aged 18 and under. But, for Illinois residents 65 and over, 80.3% are fully vaccinated. Not bad, perhaps, but, in Florida, according to the Mayo Clinic, 86.9% of persons 65+ are fully vaccinated. Considering that seniors are the age group that has been vaccine eligible longest, it seems astounding that so many of our most vulnerable fellow citizens remain unvaccinated. And how could we be behind Florida on this?

The popular narrative is not entirely wrong: According to the Mayo Clinic figures, the least fully vaccinated states are Alabama (36.1%), Mississippi (36.6%), Wyoming (37.8%), Idaho (38.3%), Arkansas (39.4%), and Lousiana (tied with West Virginia at 39.4%). But Illinois (at 50.2% fully vaccinated) is only 21st among the 50 states and the District of Columbia, way ahead of states like Alabama, of course, but not as far ahead of Texas (45.9%) as one might imagine. (Austin isn't that big.) And behind Iowa... and, as noted, Florida.

So the numbers are pretty much guaranteed to get worse for the immediate future. And masks are going to be with us... again... for some time to come.

More numbers touted without sufficient context -- no wonder we're all confused

That's an image of a Tweet posted this morning by the Chicago Department of Public Health. Great news, right? And, just as good news is supposed to be, local media outlets, like WGN, began sharing right away.

Except...

This is the Chicago COVID-19 Dashboard as of August 7, still the latest date available as of this morning.

According to these figures 59.3% of Chicagoans have received at least one dose, not 70%, while 52.7% are fully vaccinated. However, based on an explanation on the COVID-19 Dashboard Information Page that can be accessed from the Dashboard, it appears that these values are "for the total population of Chicago." Naturally, since the total population of Chicago includes persons under 12, these numbers should be lower than the rosy figures in this morning's CDPH Tweet. And when we pull out the 12-18 age group, for whom a vaccine was only recently authorized, the 18+ numbers should be much better than the reported Dashboard figures. And so they are.

But you have to work through the definitions before anaylzing the numbers. Put things in context. Think the numbers through. The judges and lawyers who read FWIW probably do this by instinct or habit -- but the public too often only sees inconsistent, contradictory numbers. And they react with understandable skepticism. It won't count for pro bono hours, but helping friends and families reconcile inconsistent numbers like these (when, as here, they can be reconciled) can be a public service.

Link to, and questions about, WBEZ report on judges getting vaccinated at Loretto Hospital

Updated March 19, 2021

A number of comments have popped up this afternoon concerning a WBEZ story, by Dan Mihalopoulos and Kristen Schorsch, posted yesterday on the radio station's website, "Cook County Judges — And Spouses — Offered Special Chance At COVID-19 Vaccine At Loretto Hospital."

I am grateful for the comments, because they allowed me to locate and post this link to the story.

One takeaway from the story, certainly, is that judges and lawyers generally are in Category 1C and, unless they qualify for a higher priority category because of age or underlying health conditions, judges and lawyers are not yet eligible for vaccination in the City of Chicago.

Inasmuch as the story does not identify the 13 judges and/or their spouses who were offered vaccinations from Loretto Hospital, and inasmuch as we do not know anything about the underlying health conditions of those judges, their spouses, or the two judges identified in the article, we do not know for certain that they were not yet eligible. That is the assumption under which the article proceeds, obviously. But the authors did not know, and could not know, about the actual eligibility of these individuals absent either a HIPAA waiver by the individuals involved, or a HIPAA violation by the hospital. There is a further assumption in the article that 14 judges and/or their spouses were in fact vaccinated on the evening of March 8. Perhaps they all were. Perhaps some were.

The only judge who was certainly vaccinated at Loretto, according to the article, was Judge James A. Shapiro. He was not part of the group invited by Judge Diann Marsalek, the acting presiding judge of the Cook County Circuit Court’s Traffic Division. I did see his Facebook posts, mentioned in the article, which, as I recall, expressed gratitude for his vaccination and encouraging everyone to get vaccinated as soon as possible. Not suprisingly, those Facebook posts appear to be gone this afternoon.

But... isn't 'get yourself vaccinated as soon as you are able' the official, consistent, and unanimous message of all health officials?

My wife is a teacher in the Chicago Catholic Schools. She has been providing in-person instruction at her school since August. While teachers have been eligible for some time, slots for shots have been rare as hen's teeth. A nurse at a downtown hospital, who has children attending the school where my wife teaches, made arrangements with the school's principal: If shots were left over at the end of the day, the nurse would call the principal and the principal would reach out to teachers. That's how my wife got her shot: We got a call on a Wednesday night at 7:30; she could get the shot if we got there by 8:00. We made it with a minute to spare.

My wife was told that it was a fairly commonplace occurrence. Despite careful planning, there were always some people who didn't show up as scheduled. The bad weather last month exacerbated this situation. The bottom line with the vaccines is use it or lose it. It doesn't keep long once it's received, and once a vial is opened it must be used or discarded.

Now, admittedly, my wife was eligible when she was offered her vaccination. I offer no opinion about Judge Shapiro's eligibility -- but, according to the linked article, Judge Shapiro was initially told he was not eligible, but then he was called back. That seems significant to me.

The City of Chicago appears to be having some difficulty distributing COVID-19 vaccines. When the State of Illinois moved into Phase 1B+ on February 25, the City of Chicago lagged behind. Since all Chicago residents are necessarily State residents, too, it has been my understanding that Chicago residents, if eligible under State standards, are free to seek vaccines wherever they may be obtained.

The most disturbing allegation of the WBEZ story is the inclusion of spouses or "plus ones" in the vaccination offer extended to certain judges.

Not that it doesn't make sense, logically, scientifically, and from every other imaginable human standpoint, that persons desiring vaccine to protect themselves would also want vaccination for those closest to them. The bureaucratic mind, however, is hostile to every normal human impulse. And, whatever the rules may be at any given moment (and they are changing constantly), they are the product of bureaucratic minds, so anyone administering the rules would presumably know that "plus ones" would not be automatically included.

That does not mean, of course, that any spouses or significant others actually vaccinated at Loretto Hospital on March 8 did not otherwise qualify under state or local standards. It only means that they do not qualify merely because of their status as significant others. An open-ended offer by the hospital to vaccinate such persons, if made, would appear to be inappropriate.

The Biden administration wants every American to be eligible for vaccination by May 1. The State of Illinois announced today that all persons 16 and older will be eligible for vaccination on April 12. That skips the State from Phase 1B+ to Phase 2, bypassing Phase 1C entirely. The City of Chicago says it plans to enter Phase 1C on March 29 -- which would make judges and lawyers eligible along with other 'essential workers' and persons with particular underlying health conditions.

Though the City of Chicago hasn't officially moved beyond Phase 1B, all residents of Chicago's 9th Ward (and some residents of the 6th, 10th and 34th Wards) aged 40 or older were invited to reigster to receive the Pfizer vaccine earlier this week at the Pullman Community Center. That's not line jumping because the line was apparently redrawn by Cook County Board President Toni Preckwinkle.

And the mass vaccination site at the United Center, operated by FEMA, was initially open to all Illinois residents 16 and older with an underlying medical condition, but the rules changed after the site went into operation and shots were limited to persons only from certain Chicago Zip Codes. Eleven Democratic Members of Congress signed a letter to FEMA protesting the change. The lines were drawn, and then redrawn.

That doesn't excuse any judges from line jumping, obviously. But, though WBEZ insinuates, it does not establish that any such behavior occurred. And the lines are perhaps a bit more fluid and confusing than some of the critics will acknowledge.

Perhaps the real story here is that the City of Chicago is not getting people vaccinated nearly as quickly as the rest of the State. Maybe there should be some inquiries into that.

COVID-19 update -- and a non-political question about mask mandates

As we approach the first anniversary of our two-week shutdown, let us take stock of where we are:

• The Cook County Chief Judge's Office announced on Tuesday of this week that two more employees had tested positive for COVID-19, one who works for the Adult Probation Office in Bridgeview, the other in the Social Service Department at the George N. Leighton Criminal Courthouse. This brings to 280 the current total of employees of the Chief Judge's Office who have tested positive for COVID-19. There have also been 21 judges (out of a total of about 400) who have testested positive;


• The Chief Judge's Office announced on February 24 that criminal jury trials will resume this month, with the first of these planned for 26th Street on March 22 and in Bridgeview on March 29;


• The number of COVID-19 cases is unquestionably going down in Illinois, at least at the moment. Last October 25, there were 4,062 new cases. The day before, a Saturday, there had been 6,161. I looked at the numbers again in November -- and on November 10 there were 12,623 cases reported. But, then, the State had started counting, and reporting, cases differently: In early November the State began reporting actual and probable cases. This is still how things are being done -- but yesterday, according to IDPH, there were 1,740 new and probable COVID-19 cases. That's a lot more than the 12 -- not a typo -- actually just a dozen -- cases that were reported on March 16, 2020, just before the world ended -- but, clearly, a considerable improvement over last fall;


• The one-shot Johnson & Johnson vaccine is now being administered in the Chicago area. That brings to three the total number of vaccines that none of us can get yet. And, actually, that is already an exaggeration: My wife and my youngest son, both teachers, have received their first doses of vaccine. While most people I talk to have not yet received a vaccine, almost everyone actually knows someone who has. It is coming. Eventually.

And with the decline in cases, and the increase in vaccine availability, government officials are starting to ease restrictions of businesses, including restaurants and bars, here and across the State. There will be an NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament this year, with some fans permitted, although the tournament will be played in a "bubble" in Indianapolis instead of at sites around the country. Fans are sitting, socially distant, in the stands at Spring Training games in Arizona. Many of these moves---most of them, I believe---have been met with relief and even cautious applause.

Governors in Texas and Mississippi have gone so far as to lift mask mandates in their states, however, and the media, and my Facebook and Twitter feeds, are all in high dudgeon. President Biden has chastisted these as "Neanderthal" moves.

Do not worry: This in not going to be a Political Post. Some readers grouse when I stray too far from #CookCountyJudicial posts, admonishing me to stay in my lane. I don't see how I'm ever going to get a cushy gig on a Sunday morning news panel if I don't branch out into national topics -- I can be just as loud and just as wrong as any of them if only given the chance. That, and a good toupee.

But put that aside for the moment. At this point in the electoral cycle, we are mostly lawyers and judges here. Words are our stock and trade. Words like "mandate."

When we use the word "mandate" or "mandatory" we mean that something must happen or someone must do something. When a mandatory disclosure date is set, and passes, and nothing happens, we lawyers can expect more than just a rueful sigh from the judge presiding. A mandatory deadline can be extended, of course (and thank God for that, too, or I'd have been disbarred a hundred times over), but, at some point, a line is drawn in the sand, and consequences will obtain if we fail to comply with that last and final, double-secret probation deadline.

I assume that all of you reading here are compliant with our local mask mandates. I have heard masks analogized to pants -- neither is required for Zoom meetings, but both are essential when going to the store.

But I further assume that most of you also know people, or at least see people, who do not wear masks. I certainly have: People who put on a mask to get past the 'mask required for entry' sign -- and take it off again as soon as they are safely inside the store. Perhaps they think themselves clever. Perhaps you have harrumphed at some of these people and gotten an earful of abuse for your pains.

Are these scofflaws arrested? Are our criminal dockets crowded with maskless offenders? Are our prisons bulging with chronic mask refusers? Are our municipal coffers overflowing with fines remitted by maskless miscreants? Not that I've heard. Or read. Have any of you heard or seen differently?

Now let me turn the question around, just a little. Suppose our own Governor Pritzker decides to lift the mask mandate here in Illinois. Not because COVID-19 is over, but solely because it becomes, for some reason, politically expedient. This is obviously not going to happen here anytime soon, I know, but we are lawyers. We are used to answering hypothetical questions in argument.

Upon the hypothetical lifting of our own mask mandate, keeping in mind that you still have not been vaccinated, and neither have most members of your family, and that COVID-19 is still coursing through the community, would you immediately cast aside your mask and gambol madly down Madison Street or Michigan Avenue, shaking hands with everyone you meet (no more elbow bumps for you)?

Of course not.

At least, I hope not.

You wear your mask in public, not because some politician says so, but because, from what you've read, and heard, and seen, and experienced, you are persuaded that mask-wearing protects you and yours and those around you. So do I. (I bet a lot of folks in Texas and Mississippi feel that way, too, whatever their governors may say, but I promised not to go there, and I won't.)

So... despite what we call it, the mask "mandate," here or anywhere in this country, is more of a strong suggestion than a mandate. We don't punish people who disobey it.

And this, for me, is a problem. I don't mean that I want to punish the scoffers. (Well, maybe just a little....) My concern is that calling a suggestion, or request, a mandate undermines the rule of law.

Our system depends on people respecting and obeying the law. When specific laws (or mandates) are seen to be ignored, or not enforced, people may be encouraged to ignore other laws, too. Or think they may choose which laws to obey and which laws not to. This is not something new in America. See, Prohibition. See also, the "War on Drugs." I could do a pretty lengthy string cite here, and I'll bet you could, too.

There will be a lot to rebuild when this two-week shutdown eventually ends. The economy, including our own personal economies, for one. But can we also give some thought to how we will repair the damage caused to the rule of law by well-intentioned "mandates"?

Second City Cop is gone

I've been retweeting updates on this from @CWBChicago on this one. This is the latest, and presumably the last:

Update: “Second City Cop” writers say they — and not Google — pulled the plug on their long-running police blog.https://t.co/ZTrMgIoaDF

— CWBChicago (@CWBChicago) January 13, 2021

The CWBChicago blogpost about this is here. The statement issued by the SCC authors is on HeyJackass!, at least for the time being. An excerpt:

Over the weekend, we received information from a contact at Google that internal chat/e-mails led them to believe that certain precautions we had taken over the years had been breached by Google. We had gotten similar warnings from others in the past, and we dealt with or ignored them as the situation warranted. But this one was different.

You may dismiss the SCC authors as paranoid right-wingers -- but former New York Times editor and writer Bari Weiss wrote, just yesterday, of the "takeover and the unimaginable strength of the new powers that have superseded" the "old truths, the old political consensus, ...the old common identity." Borrowing from David Samuels, she dubs this new age the age of machines. She continues (emphasis in original):

Now those machines, operated by people none of us elected, have begun an open war against us.

It’s not that Trump was permanently banned from Twitter. I’d be happy to never hear that voice or see those CAPS again. It’s that Twitter can ban whoever it wants whenever it wants for whatever reason. It’s that all the real town squares have been shuttered and that the only one left is pixelated and controlled by a few oligarchs in Silicon Valley.

We were promised the Internet would be better than democracy. But then it got privatized. Corporations own it. There is no online bill of rights. There is only the frenzy of the mob and fickle choices of a few billionaires.

Look, friends, even Germany's Chancellor Angela Merkel, whose disdain for Donald Trump has been open and obvious right from the beginning, thought it "problematic" that Twitter had evicted Trump from its platform.

Even if one exists, however, the SCC authors may have misinterpreted how high they were on anyone's hit list. But they had reason enough to fear for their paychecks if their identities were revealed. Clearly, there will be no tears shed for SCC's demise at City Hall, in the Chief Judge's Office, or by the Sheriff or the State's Attorney or the County Board President.

If they were in danger of being 'outed', I hope they got out in time. SCC has provided a genuine public service over the years, bringing important news to light that otherwise would have remained unseen. They were not journailsts -- but, often, they did work that the newspapers and broadcast media should have done.

Of course, sometimes, SCC just spouted some truly crazy sh*t. They had a point of view. Well, so does Injustice Watch (although a very different point of view, to be sure). You had to read through the point of view, sometimes, to get to the useful information, but there was useful information there. Some mornings they may have made you mad. Some mornings they made me mad, too. And some of the comments were truly frightening. But I will miss SCC. I wish its authors well.