Technology-Enabled Coin Flips for Judging Partisan Gerrymandering

From Volume 93, Postscript (May 2019)
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 Technology-Enabled Coin Flips for Judging Partisan Gerrymandering

Wendy K. Tam Cho[*]

This session, the Supreme Court heard oral arguments in a set of twin partisan gerrymandering cases, one brought by Democrats, Rucho v. Common Cause,[1] and the other by Republicans, Benisek v. Lamone.[2] This was not the first time the Court has considered this issue: partisan gerrymandering has now come before twenty-one Justices of the Supreme Court, without resolution. Over the history of these cases, it has remained uncontroversial that the Elections Clause in Article I, Section 4 of the U.S. Constitution gives states the right, and indeed wide latitude, to prescribe the “times, places and manner” of congressional elections. That includes the drawing of electoral boundaries. At the same time, the power of legislatures is not unfettered.  And, it is the role of the Supreme Court to guard against unconstitutional legislative acts.

Akin to every other legal issue that comes before the Court, reconciling the state’s discretion and the Supreme Court’s role in judicial review requires a judicially manageable standard that allows the Court to determine when a legislature has overstepped its bounds. Without a judicially discoverable and manageable standard, the Court is unable to develop clear and coherent principles to form its judgments, and challenges to partisan gerrymandering would thus be non-justiciable.

In the partisan gerrymandering context, such a standard needs to discern between garden-variety and excessive use of partisanship. The Court has stated that partisanship may be used in redistricting, but it may not be used “excessively.” In Vieth v. Jubelirer, Justice Scalia clarified, Justice Stevens says we ‘er[r] in assuming that politics is ‘an ordinary and lawful motive’ in districting, but all he brings forward to contest that is the argument that an excessive injection of politics is unlawful. So it is, and so does our opinion assume.[3] Justice Souter, in a dissent joined by Justice Ginsburg, expressed a similar idea: courts must intervene, he says, when “partisan competition has reached an extremity of unfairness.”[4]

At oral argument in Rucho, attorney Emmet Bondurant argued that “[t]his case involves the most extreme partisan gerrymander to rig congressional elections that has been presented to this Court since the one-person/one-vote case.”[5] Justice Kavanaugh replied, “when you use the word ‘extreme,’ that implies a baseline. Extreme compared to what?”[6]

Herein lies the issue that the Court has been grappling with in partisan gerrymandering claims. What is the proper baseline against which to judge whether partisanship has been used excessively? And how can this baseline be incorporated into a judicially manageable standard?

I. The Promise of Technology

Fifteen years ago in Vieth, Justice Kennedy wrote the following:

Technology is both a threat and a promise. On the one hand, if courts refuse to entertain any claims of partisan gerrymandering, the temptation to use partisan favoritism in districting in an unconstitutional manner will grow. On the other hand, these new technologies may produce new methods of analysis that make more evident the precise nature of the burdens gerrymanders impose on the representational rights of voters and parties.[7]

Indeed, more sophisticated technology has fueled the threat of gerrymandering. With the aid of computers and advanced software, map drawers now have the ability to adhere tightly and meticulously to legal districting practices while simultaneously and surreptitiously entrenching power. Moreover, computing power and software sophistication are only improving over time—a fact certainly not lost on Justice Kagan, who last year wrote in Gill v. Whitford, “[t]he 2010 redistricting cycle produced some of the worst partisan gerrymanders on record. The technology will only get better, so the 2020 cycle will only get worse.”[8]

In short, the threat of technology for gerrymandering is real and looms more ominously daily. However, it appears that the Justices are now seeing a possible glimmer of hope: the day of technology’s promise to help identify and curb gerrymandering may have arrived, or is, at least, arriving.

The Court now appears to accept the idea that in addition to aiding nefarious intent, computers may also help detect such intent in litigation through generating large numbers of maps that embody only the neutral districting criteria. When humans are drawing maps, it is difficult to enumerate all of the criteria that are considered for a particular map. However, with a computer, the criteria are well-specified and known. One must explicitly choose which criteria to include and which to exclude. At oral argument in Rucho, Justice Alito acknowledged as much:

If you make a list of the so-called neutral criteria—compactness, contiguity, protecting incumbents, if that’s really neutral, respecting certain natural features of the geography—and you have a computer program that includes all of those and weights them all . . . at the end, what you get is a large number of maps that satisfy all those criteria. And I think that’s realistic. That’s what you will get.[9]

The Court also seems to accept that one could use such a set of maps as some sort of “baseline.” Justice Kagan stated that “[t]he benchmark is the natural political geography of the state plus all the districting criteria, except for partisanship.”[10]

II. The Barriers to Connecting Technology with the Law

While the Court appears to be in agreement that a baseline of non-partisan maps can be created, it struggles with a way to incorporate this baseline into a judicially manageable standard that allows us to identify a partisan gerrymander. For the Justices, there is not yet a satisfactory connection between the baseline that they believe the technology can now create and the requirements of the Court for a judicially manageable standard.

There appear to be two main barriers. The first is what they see as a connection to proportional representation (PR). Justice Gorsuch seems particularly suspicious that the baseline of non-partisan maps provides nothing more than a test for proportional representation in disguise. When he sees the range of partisan outcomes that emerge from the baseline of non-partisan maps, he is not seeing how one can use those maps to identify a partisan gerrymander. He envisions that there must be a “cutoff” where partisanship becomes excessive. But, to identify that point, Gorsuch asks, “aren’t we just back in the business of deciding what degree of tolerance we’re willing to put up with from proportional representation?”[11] Justice Alito is similarly perplexed about how one might utilize the baseline set of non-partisan maps:

[I]f you have 24,000 maps that satisfy all of the so-called neutral criteria that you put in your computer program, don’t you need a criterion or criteria for deciding which of the 24,000 maps you’re going to choose? . . . [I]mplicit . . . is the idea, is it not, that you have to choose one that honors proportional representation? You have no other criteria for distinguishing among the 24,000 maps.[12]

While large deviations from PR may raise suspicion and seem intuitively problematic to the public eye, the judiciary is unequivocal that PR is inconsistent with geographically defined single member districts. Hence, this seeming connection to PR is obviously problematic given the long history of the Supreme Court’s emphasis that our system of government is explicitly not one of proportional representation. To be sure, any judicial standard cannot simply require PR or an outcome “close to PR.”

A second issue is that the Constitution grants wide discretion to the states in devising its electoral maps. Neither the appellants nor the appellees in North Carolina’s redistricting case disagree. The disagreement, rather, stems from how this wide discretion affects the use and interpretation of the baseline maps.

The challengers argue that “[t]he legislature has wide discretion, as long as it does not attempt to do two things, dictate electoral outcomes, [or] favor or disfavor a class of candidates.”[13] It is true that the legislature has wide discretion so long as it does not violate the Constitution. However, the challengers did not articulate a standard for how we would know that the legislature is dictating electoral outcomes other than to say that the legislature’s map has a partisan effect that is not one of the common effects in the baseline set of maps. The challengers’ argument, in essence, is that being on the tail of the distribution (i.e., producing an unusually uncommon partisan effect) is de facto evidence of the state overstepping its discretionary powers. We have already discussed Justice Gorsuch’s objection to this articulationthis characterization of unconstitutional gerrymander is conceptually indistinguishable from a PR standard.

Within the specific facts of the North Carolina case, the challengers also argue that statements made by the legislature show that partisanship was the predominant factor and a “material factor” in creating the map. In particular, David Lewis, a Harnett County Republican and the House redistricting leader at the time, stated that the map was drawn “to give a partisan advantage to ten Republicans and three Democrats because [I do] not believe [it’s] possible to draw a map with eleven Republicans and two Democrats.”[14] Chief Justice Roberts did not take issue with the particular facts present in the North Carolina case, but also did not see how they would then translate into a general principle to govern how the baseline set of maps would help identify the degree of partisanship utilized in future partisan gerrymandering cases.

The state of North Carolina, on the other hand, points out that all of the baseline maps are properly conceived of as non-partisan since they were all drawn without partisan information. Accordingly, they say, all of these maps would thus be within the legislature’s discretion to enact. The state looks at the large set of baseline North Carolina maps “with partisanship taken out entirely,” and observes that “you get 162 different maps that produce a 10/3 Republican split.”[15] From here, they argue that when the legislature is devising its particular map, it is “about as discretionary a government function as one could imagine.”[16] In other words, the legislature cannot be dictating outcomes when no partisan information is even being utilized. Therefore, the argument goes, all of these declaredly non-partisan maps and thus their partisan effects fall within the legislature’s discretion.

The dispute here is about what the tails of the distribution of partisan effects from the baseline set of maps indicate. Do they indicate “dictating outcomes” as the challengers argue or are all of the maps, tail or not, within the legislature’s “discretionary powers” as the state argues? More importantly for the Court, how does one distinguish “dictating outcomes” from “discretionary power?”

In short, the Court is not skeptical about whether a baseline of non-partisan maps can be created. It is skeptical about whether it can reconcile a baseline they believe exists with the wide latitude conferred to the states in the Elections Clause and our system of representation, which is explicitly not proportional representation.

III. A Judicially Manageable Standard

I argue that when the application of the “new technology” is properly conceived and executed, neither the issue of proportional representation nor our commitment to states’ rights in prescribing the “times, places and manner” of congressional elections remains problematic. In fact, both are part and parcel of a judicially manageable standard.

First, let us establish the relationship of PR with the baseline set of maps. Because partisan information is necessary to determine PR and no partisan information is used in the construction of the baseline maps, we can say, unequivocally, that PR plays no role in the construction of the baseline set of maps. Instead, the computer-drawn maps are constrained only by the locations where the particular people in the state reside and the neutral map-drawing criteria.

If partisans are randomly dispersed throughout the state and there are roughly an equal number in each party, PR is, unsurprisingly, a natural outcome. When partisans cluster geographically, this type of political geography undermines PR in the sense that a “natural outcome” would more likely be further from the PR outcome. The size of the discrepancy between PR and the common outcomes in the baseline non-partisan maps depends on the state and the precise pattern of political geography and degree of clustering. Sometimes political geography works strongly against PR. In other cases, the political geography may have only a small impact. This concept appears to be well understood by the Court. In Vieth, Justice Scalia wrote the following:

Consider, for example, a legislature that draws district lines with no objectives in mind except compactness and respect for the lines of political subdivisions. Under that system, political groups that tend to cluster (as is the case with Democratic voters in cities) would be systematically affected by what might be called a “natural” packing effect.[17] 

In other words, if Democrats tend to cluster in cities, rather than being randomly dispersed across the state, then this “political geography” that is created by their tendency toward urban clustering results in Democrats being “packed” into the same districts because the map drawer may be trying to keep cities and counties together—an objective that the Court accepts as neutral and not partisan per se.

In addition, if the partisans are not roughly proportional, PR is less likely to be the outcome. We have long known that if a state’s partisans are split, say, 70 percent Republican to 30 percent Democrat, then almost surely, the Republicans will win all of the state’s seats unless the Democrats are unusually clustered so that it is possible to place them in a district where they command the majority vote. Here again is an interactive effect between political geography and the degree to which PR is even possible—though this time, clustering would work in favor of the minority party.

Indeed, the reason we simulate maps is to understand how political geography and neutral map-drawing criteria affect the natural partisan outcomes when partisanship information is not present. The effect of political geography is statespecific since it depends on the particular people in the state, where they reside, and other neutral criteria that may be based on, for example, city and county boundaries. One can think of the simulation process as procedurally fair in the sense that the process has no explicit partisan information guiding it.

The idea behind employing simulations to understand a process, map drawing or otherwise, is not new. The concept of frequentist probabilities and their interpretation has been well-established since at least the end of the nineteenth century.[18] We can gain some intuition about how simulations work in the familiar context of flipping coins. Suppose we want to know what typically happens when you toss a fair coin one hundred times. Maybe in the first round of one hundred tosses, the coin lands on heads fiftysix times. In the second round, the coin lands on heads fortyeight times. We repeat this process a large number of times. These “simulations” help us understand the behavior of a fair coin. After we have properly repeated this process sufficiently many times, we have an accurate gauge of the behavior of a fair coin.

Figure 1 shows the result when a computer simulates one hundred tosses of a fair coin, and repeats the one hundred tosses three million separate times. This process illuminates that the outcome of more than sixty heads occurs less than 2 percent of the time. Indeed, for any outcome or number of heads, we can know how likely that outcome is to occur for a fair coin. To be sure, it is possible for a fair coin to land on heads one hundred times in one hundred tosses, but if it did, any sane person would question whether that coin was actually a fair coin. While this outcome is not impossible, it is an inordinately improbable outcome. Indeed, in my actual simulation, after the computer has tossed a coin one hundred times for three million repetitions, the event where all of the tosses landed on heads did not occur even once. We can see from the figure that even seventy-five heads would be an “extreme” outcome for an allegedly fair coin. In my actual simulation, seventy-five heads in one hundred tosses did not happen even once in the three million different attempts.

A similar baseline and analysis can inform judgments about maps. Of course, the mechanics of how to draw electoral maps are exceedingly more complex than tossing coins. Indeed, I have spent many years thinking and researching about how to do this properly,[19] but the logic is the same.

To simulate map-drawing, we repeatedly draw maps that adhere to neutral principles like equal population, preservation of cities and counties, and compactness, but do not consider partisan information. Just like for coin tosses, when properly executed, this process creates a baseline for understanding what types of outcomes emerge from a map-drawing process that does not involve explicit partisan information.

Of course, as we have discussed, a state is not constrained to consider only neutral map-drawing principles—many decisions go into devising a map, and a state has wide latitude to act in the interest of its people. There are any number of criteria that can be regarded as outside the set of neutral or “traditional districting principles” but still non-partisan. One example might be a claim that Representative Lynn Wachtmann, in the state of Ohio, made in the legislative record,

The community of Delphos is split with Representative Huffman and I, and let me share with you a little bit different story about what could happen with a great county like Lucas County if they care to work on both sides of the aisle. That is, they could gain more power in Washington.[20]

She is making a claim that the splitting of this county was not done for partisan reasons, but to garner more political power for the people of Ohio. Whether this is true or not, we leave aside at the moment. It could be true, and certainly, when a map is devised, the decisions that determine the boundaries should be done in the interest of the people. In this sense, that the legislature has wide latitude to work in the interest of its people is a feature, not a flaw. Indeed, there are many non-partisan decisions that may lie behind a particular map configuration. Possibly, a representative wants her church or her family’s cemetery in her district. Why a representative may want those things might be personal and completely devoid of partisan motivation. These types of decisions all fall within the wide latitude and undisputed discretionary power of the legislature to devise its electoral map.

Note that even completely non-partisan decisions have partisan effects. Every time a boundary is changed, partisans are shifted from one district to another district. This necessarily changes the partisan composition of the districts, and a partisan effect ensues. But, then, if all decisions, even non-partisan ones have a partisan effect, how do we know if the admittedly many decisions behind a map make it “excessively partisan”? It would be impossible, almost surely, and impractical, at the very least, to try to discover all the reasons and then to determine whether each one was partisan or not.

This realization that many elements influence district boundaries is not lost on the Court. In Vieth, Justice Breyer wrote that the desirable or legal criteria represent a series of compromises of principle—among the virtues of, for example, close representation of voter views, ease of identifying government and opposition parties, and stability in government. They also represent an uneasy truce, sanctioned by tradition, among different parties seeking political advantage.[21]

Partisan effect that arises from the compromise of principles is not problematic. The need for compromise among many factors is a given. It is well established that an important role of the legislature is to bargain and compromise in the pursuit of legislation. The issue is not the compromise of principles, but rather, determining when partisanship has been injected excessively.

To gain some insight into this conundrum, we can think about how this works with the coin toss simulation. A fair coin lands on heads roughly half the time because it is not biased toward heads or tails. Likewise, non-partisan decisions, by definition, are not biased toward one party or the other. Roughly half the time (with the exact probability again depending the political geography of the state), a non-partisan decision will shift partisans in a way that makes a map more Republican. Roughly the other half of the time, it will shift partisans in a way that makes a map more Democratic. To be sure, every shift provides a more favorable effect for one party over the other. However, in the aggregate, for non-partisan decisions, there should be no systematic bias in favor of one party and at the expense of the other party.

Recall that our baseline effect emerges from only neutral criteria (the “traditional districting principles” and the law). It shows what type of partisan outcomes we expect when one employs only the neutral non-partisan map-drawing criteria. If the other motivations behind a map are non-partisan, the unintended partisan effects should wash out, just as over the course of one hundred coin flips, the tallies of heads and tails will be similar. If the partisan effects from these other decisions do not wash out (or if there are many more heads than tails), then we have evidence of partisan motivation (or unfair coins).

The stronger the cumulative partisan effect is in one direction, the greater the evidence of underlying partisan motivations. If a coin lands on heads once, no suspicion is raised. If the second flip also lands on heads, I can say that I am not bothered in the least. But if that coin lands on heads one hundred times in a row, my disbelief is boundless.

 If the legislature uses only neutral criteria, then the expected effect is reflected in the baseline set of maps. Of course, the legislature will contemplate, negotiate, and compromise. No one would argue that they should “choose” one of the baseline maps that are restricted to a small set of criteria. This would be inconsistent with the Elections Clause because it would heavily constrain the legislature rather than allowing it wide latitude. Instead, many other criteria will be considered. Importantly, the political effect from non-partisan decisions should wash out if they are truly non-partisan in nature. If one non-partisan decision results in a map that leans more favorably toward the Republicans, I am not suspicious in the least. After all, every decision moves the map in one party’s favor or the other party’s favor. If a second decision moves the map more Republican, I remain unsuspicious. As the decisions pile up and they continually move the map toward the tail of the baseline distribution, my disbelief grows.

IV.  The State of Ohio

To see how my proposed test would work in an actual redistricting case, we can examine the congressional electoral map for the state of Ohio. I served as an expert witness in the state of Ohio’s gerrymandering case, A. Philip Randolph Inst. v. Householder.[22] Since the 2010 redistricting, each of the congressional races (in 2012, 2014, 2016, and 2018) resulted in twelve Republican seats and four Democratic seats. Figure 2 shows the seat split from more than three million computer-generated maps that I created on the Blue Waters supercomputer for the state of Ohio using only the neutral districting criteria with Ohio’s population and its particular political geography. In the figure, we can see that nine Republican seats is the most commonly expected outcome. Eleven Republican seats is not common at all, and twelve seats, which did occur among the more than three million maps, is an outcome that happens so infrequently that while the histogram bar at twelve seats is present, it is sufficiently minuscule that it is not even visible.

Judging from the legislative record in Ohio, the legislature considered population equality, compactness, contiguity, minority representation, and the preservation of cities and counties in the construction of the current Ohio map.[23] My simulated maps do likewise. The legislature also took a number of other unspecified criteria into account. Once all of the legislature’s criteria were taken into account, the map they produced resulted in a 12/4 Republican/Democrat seat split for every set of congressional elections run under this map.

While we do not know what each of the individual decisions behind the map were, we do know that every one of their “unspecified criteria” moved the map either toward a more favorable Republican outcome or a more favorable Democratic outcome. How did they end up on the tail of the seat share distribution? It is possible that using only the neutral districting criteria, they started at an extreme location. It is possible, but as we know, it’s extremely unlikely—just like obtaining a highly disproportionate number of heads when tossing a fair coin one hundred times. 

One could also argue that many other considerations went into the decision process. Indeed, many other decisions could have and should have entered the calculus. One could also make the claim that these decisions were not partisan. Some appear to be benign requests like splitting a military base across several districts. Other decisions may have involved an explicit attempt to protect constituents’ interests, aimed at better representation for the people of Ohio. Each of these decisions, partisan or not, changed the partisan effect of the map. But the non-partisan decisions should have no systematic bias toward the Republicans or the Democrats. Their collective partisan effect should wash out in the aggregate. On the other hand, partisan decisions surely are intended to have a specific partisan effect and move the map in the intended direction.

What we observe is a map that is all the way on the right end of the distribution of partisan effect. That means we either began on the tail, which is extremely unlikely, or we started in a more likely spot and then the subsequent decisions moved that partisan effect to that end of the distribution. If the subsequent decisions moved that map so far in one direction, it is like the coin that keeps landing on heads. If the first “decision” makes the map more Republican leaning, that is not bothersome since it has to have some partisan effect. If the second “decision” moves the map in the Republican direction again, that is also not so unusual. If the entire set of decisions move the partisan effect all the way to the end of the distribution, we have strong evidence that an increasingly small set of those decisions were actually non-partisan.

Importantly, note that there are different types of partisan unfairness. An electoral map can be unfair if partisanship is used excessively so that one party’s seat share or electoral outcomes are affected. This might be observed, as we have just seen, by how many seats favor one party over the other. However, this is not the only way in which a legislature may use partisan information to usurp power from the voters. Another option is to create districts that are not competitive. When districts are not competitive, the outcome is essentially pre-determined such that the voters are effectively disenfranchised because while they are still able to cast a ballot, their ability to influence elections has been non-trivially compromised.

In my capacity as an expert witness for the Ohio gerrymandering case, I produced not just the baseline distribution shown in Figure 2, but also the one shown in Figure 3. Here, I examined how many of Ohio’s congressional districts were competitive. I defined “competitive” as resulting in an outcome that was “within a 10% margin of victory” (i.e., the winning party received no more than 55 percent of the two-party vote and the losing party received at least 45 percent of the two-party vote). Recall that I have already generated more than three million baseline maps. To be sure, when we have a set of baseline maps, there are many facets of these maps that can be examined. We are not restricted to seat shares or even the number of competitive seats. Indeed, this set of baseline maps has depth and richness on many dimensions, allowing us to explore numerous and varied facets of an electoral map. When I examined the competitiveness of Ohio’s congressional seats, I found that, commonly, half of the districts in the simulated maps were competitive. In contrast, in the current Ohio congressional map, all of the districts are quite non-competitive. So, in addition to producing a highly unusual seat split, the maps also resulted in a highly unusual lack of competitive seats. To be highly unusual on two partisan measures, as you can easily intuit, is even more suspect than if the current Ohio map was unusual in only one way. Maybe the first time you toss a coin one hundred times, the coin lands on heads an unusually large number of times. Unusual events like this do happen. If you toss that coin one hundred times again and a second unusual outcome occurs, the strength of the evidence is undeniably stacking up against that coin being fair.

 

Surely a map can be unusual on only one dimension. For instance, in North Carolina, if the map resulted in a 7/6 seat split, just because this outcome is “close to PR” does not exonerate it from other possible gerrymandering claims. We see clearly here that the baseline set of maps is not about some assessment of PR. Rather, they are far richer, allowing us to scrutinize many facets of partisan unfairness. If that map is 7/6 but sufficiently uncompetitive so that the voters have very little ability to change the outcome, then that map “dictates outcomes” and can be regarded as unconstitutional in that way. What makes a map unfair is not a deviation from any sense of proportional representation. What makes it unfair is the evidence that excessive partisanship was utilized.

V.  Rigorous Identification of Partisan Gerrymandering is Possible

When subject to litigation, a state is free to protest that its legislature’s map has been improperly identified as “excessively partisan.” That state can also present exculpatory evidence. Clearly, a map drawn free of partisanship can have an extreme partisan effect that emanates from neutral considerations. A fair coin also can land on heads one hundred times, but this outcome invites incredulity. Simulations are never able to tell us definitively that a coin is not fair or that the decisions behind a map are excessively partisan with certainty. In both cases, the simulations provide evidence and give us a sense of the strength of that evidence. The greater the number of heads over tails, the greater the evidence against a fair coin. The further the partisan effect moves from the baseline maps, the greater the evidence that partisanship was used excessively.

Sometimes, one has a smoking gun. Perhaps a suspect was caught, covered in blood, standing over the victim, holding the murder weapon at the crime scene. In the case of North Carolina, one may or may not regard Representative David Lewis’s comments about purposefully drawing a 10/3 map as this type of evidence. Barring such evidence, we still have a way to develop solid, probative, and dispositive evidence through the baseline set of maps.

The ability to create a baseline set of maps, combined with a proper and theoretically sound interpretation allows us to honor the Elections Clause that provides wide latitude to the states to prescribe the times, places, and manner of its elections, support our system of geographically based single member districts, be divorced from notions of proportional representation, and maintain the Court’s oversight of the legislature by providing a judicially manageable standard that assesses whether legislative decisions are excessively partisan.

The cutoff for what qualifies as “excessive” is a legal judgment call—the bread and butter of the Supreme Court’s constitutional jurisprudence. The exact cutoff may not be clear, but the Court is the institution charged with making that judgment. What is clear is that there is a way to measure excessiveness that is consistent with the Constitution’s regard for states rights and the legislature’s mandate to legislate for the people. This measure is not related to proportional representation, and it serves as the basis for a judicially manageable standard.

Whether the Court analyzes partisan gerrymandering as a matter of First Amendment viewpoint discrimination, as a matter of vote dilution under the Equal Protection Clause, or as an abuse of the power delegated to states under the Elections Clause, recent technological developments now enable the Court to put judicially manageable limits on the excessive use of partisanship in designing election districts. Technology has surely fueled the threat and growth of gerrymandering by providing a tool for the partisan majority of a state legislature to draw self-serving electoral boundaries, but it also now fulfills its promise by providing the basis for a judicially manageable standard to help judge whether electoral maps are excessively partisan.

 


[*] Professor in the Departments of Political Science, Statistics, Mathematics, and Asian American Studies, the College of Law, and Senior Research Scientist at the National Center for Supercomputing Applications at the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign. She has served as an expert witness in redistricting litigation and has published research on technological innovations for redistricting analysis in computer science, operations research, statistics, physics, political science, and law.

 [1]. Transcript of Oral Argument, Rucho v. Common Cause, No.18-442 (U.S. Mar. 26, 2019).

 [2]. Transcript of Oral Argument, Benisek v. Lamone, No. 17-333 (U.S. Mar. 28, 2019).

 [3]. Vieth v. Jubelirer, 541 U.S. 267, 293 (2004) (alteration and emphasis in original) (internal quotation marks omitted).

 [4]. Id. at 344 (Souter, J., dissenting).

 [5]. Transcript of Oral Argument, supra note 1, at 38.

 [6]. Id.

 [7]. Vieth, 541 U.S. at 312–13 (Kennedy, J., concurring).

 [8]. Gill v. Whitford, 138 S. Ct. 1,916, 1941 (2018) (Kagan, J., concurring) (citation omitted).

 [9]. Transcript of Oral Argument, supra note 1, at 42.

 [10]. Id. at 27 (emphasis added).

 [11]. Id. at 43–44.

 [12]. Id. at 30–31.

 [13]. Id. at 43.

 [14]. Common Cause v. Rucho, 279 F. Supp. 3d 587, 604 (M.D.N.C. 2018).

 [15]. Transcript of Oral Argument, supra note 1 at 30.

 [16]. Id. at 29.

 [17]. Vieth v. Jubelirer, 541 U.S. 267, 289–90 (2004) (citation omitted).

 [18]. For the early development and discussion of these concepts, see generally A. A. Cournat, Exposition de la Théorie des Chance et des Probabilités (1843); John Venn, The Logic of Chance: An Essay on the Foundations and Province of the Theory of Probability (1888); Robert Leslie Ellis, On the Foundations of the Theory of Probabilities, in Mathematical Proceedings of the Cambridge Philosophical Society (B.J. Green et al., eds., 1844).

 [19]. Wendy K. Tam Cho & Simon Rubinstein-Salzedo, Understanding Significance Tests from a Non-Mixing Markov Chain for Partisan Gerrymandering Claims, 6 Stats. and Pub. Pol’y (forthcoming 2019), https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/2330443X.2019.1574687; Wendy K. Tam Cho & Yan Y. Liu, A Massively Parallel Evolutionary Markov Chain Monte Carlo Algorithm for Sampling Complicated Multimodal State Spaces, in SC18: The International Conference for High Performance Computing, Networking, Storage and Analysis (2018), https://sc18.supercomputing.org/proceedings//tech_poster/poster_files/post173s2-file3.pdf; Bruce E. Cain, Wendy K. Tam Cho, Yan Y. Liu & Emily Zhang, A Reasonable Bias Approach to Gerrymandering: Using Automated Plan Generation to Evaluate Redistricting Proposals, 59 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 1521 (2018); Wendy K. Tam Cho & Yan Y. Liu, Sampling from Complicated and Unknown Distributions: Monte Carlo and Markov Chain Monte Carlo Methods for Redistricting, 506 Physica A 170 (2018); Wendy K. Tam Cho & Yan Y. Liu, Massively Parallel Evolutionary Computation for Empowering Electoral Reform: Quantifying Gerrymandering via Multi-objective Optimization and Statistical Analysis, in SC17: The International Conference for High Performance Computing, Networking, Storage and Analysis (2017), https://sc17.supercomputing.org/SC17%20Archive/tech_poster/poster_files/post211s2-file3.pdf; Wendy K. Tam Cho, Measuring Partisan Fairness: How Well Does the Efficiency Gap Guard Against Sophisticated as well as Simple-Minded Modes of Partisan Discrimination? 166 U. Pa. L. Rev. Online 17 (2017); Yan Y. Liu, Wendy K. Tam Cho & Shaowen Wang, PEAR: A Massively Parallel Evolutionary Computation Approach for Political Redistricting Optimization and Analysis, 30 Swarm and Evolutionary Computation 78 (2016); Wendy K. Tam Cho & Yan Y. Liu, Toward a Talismanic Redistricting Tool: A Computational Method for Identifying Extreme Redistricting Plans, 15 Election L.J. 351 (2016); Yan Y. Liu, Wendy K. Tam Cho & Shaowen Wang, A Scalable Computational Approach to Political Redistricting Optimization, in Proceedings of the XSEDE 2015 Conference: Scientific Advancements Enabled by Enhanced Cyberinfrastructure (2015) https://dl.acm.org/citation.cfm?doid=2792745.2792751; Douglas M. King, Sheldon H. Jacobson, Edward C. Sewell & Wendy K. Tam Cho, Geo-Graphs: An Efficient Model for Enforcing Contiguity and Hole Constraints in Planar Graph Partitioning, 60 Operations Res. 1213 (2012).

 [20]. H. & S. Rep. No 319, pts. 12, at 28 (Ohio 2011).

 [21]. Vieth, 541 U.S. at 360 (Breyer, J., dissenting).

 [22]. Ohio A. Philip Randolph Inst. v. Householder, No. 18-cv-357, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 24736, at *40–41 (S.D. Ohio Feb. 15, 2019).

 [23]. See Wendy K. Tam Cho, Expert Witness Testimony filed in Ohio A. Philip Randolph Inst. v. Householder, No. 18-cv-357, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 24736, at *40–41 (S.D. Ohio), Oct. 5, 2018.

 

From Presentation to Presence: Immersive Virtual Environments and Unfair Prejudice in the Courtroom – Note by Khirin Bunker

From Volume 92, Number 2 (January 2019)
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FROM PRESENTATION TO PRESENCE: IMMERSIVE VIRTUAL ENVIRONMENTS AND UNFAIR PREJUDICE IN THE COURTROOM

What if you could transport your jury from a courtroom to the scene of a catastrophic event? . . . Imagine how much more empathy you would feel for the victim of a catastrophic collision if you were to experience the tragedy first-hand.[1]

Introduction

In the courtroom environment, oral presentations are becoming increasingly supplemented and replaced by advancing digital technologies that provide legal practitioners with effective demonstrative capabilities.[2] Improvements in the field of virtual reality (VR) are facilitating the creation of immersive environments in which a user’s senses and perceptions of the physical world can be completely replaced with virtual renderings.[3] As courts, lawyers, and experts continue to grapple with evidentiary questions of admissibility posed by evolving technologies in the field of computer-generated evidence (CGE),[4] issues posed by the introduction of immersive virtual environments (IVEs) into the courtroom have, until recently, remained a largely theoretical discussion.

Though the widespread use of IVEs at trial has not yet occurred, research into the practical applications of these VR technologies in the courtroom is ongoing,[5] with several studies having successfully integrated IVEs into mock scenarios. For example, in 2002, the Courtroom 21 Project (run by William & Mary Law School and the National Center for State Courts) hosted a lab trial in which a witness used an IVE.[6] The issue in the case was whether a patient’s death was the result of the design of a cholesterolremoving stent or a surgeon’s error in implanting it upside down.[7]

During the mock trial, a key defense witness who was present during the surgery donned a VR headset, which recreated the operating room, and then projected to the jury her view of the operation on a large screen as she reenacted her role in the surgery. The demonstration significantly reduced the credibility of the witness when it revealed that she could not possibly have seen the doctor’s hands or wrists.[8]

In another experiment, Swiss researchers successfully used an Oculus Rift headset and Unity 3D software to render an IVE that made it possible for a viewer to assess how close bullets came to severely injuring a victim during a shooting.[9] Using a laser scan of the crime scene, footage taken from an onlooking security camera, and the final position of the projectiles, researchers were able to reconstruct the scene of the shooting to enable viewers to review the bullet trajectories, visibility, speed, and distance.[10]

Similarly, the Bavarian State criminal office, which currently handles the prosecution of Nazi war criminals tied to the Holocaust, applied laser scanning technology to develop a VR model of the Auschwitz concentration camp.[11] The model was recently adapted into an IVE for future use at trial, allowing jurors to examine the camp from almost any point of view.[12]

As research continues and new applications of IVE technology have been investigated, the use of VR technology is becoming increasingly mainstream and costeffective,[13] making it more practical to use an IVE in the courtroom. As such, early adapters in civil practice have announced plans to use IVEs at trial,[14] while litigation support providers are beginning to advertise VR development services.[15] Rising use of laser imaging software and body cameras among law enforcement departments, with the capacity to be converted into an IVE format for use at trial,[16] also has significant potential to facilitate the rapid expansion of these technologies in criminal proceedings.

From the standpoint of a legal practitioner, the potential value in applications of IVE use at trial are numerous. As a form of evidence, IVEs have the potential to redefine the way in which litigators can recreate crime and accident scenes for the jury.[17] Rather than having a jury watch a video rendering or review images after-the-fact, an IVE could allow jury members to witness an event firsthand—from any specific moment, angle, or viewpoint.[18] As a demonstrative technology, an IVE can be easily adapted to depict eyewitness and expert testimony, explain highly technical concepts, or transport users into an interactive environment in any given scenario.[19]

While some commentators have welcomed the onset of IVEs into the courtroom as a natural progression and the next step in technological development of visual media,[20] others have argued that IVEs are fundamentally different from prior forms of evidence and warrant heightened caution due to potential prejudicial effects on juries.[21] This Note supports the latter position and, drawing on psychological research, ultimately argues for revisions to be made in the admission of IVEs as demonstrative evidence.

Part I of this Note defines and distinguishes IVEs from other forms of VR and CGE. Part II compares the treatment of substantive and demonstrative evidence under the Federal Rules of Evidence and discusses the relevant evidentiary rules for the use of an IVE as an illustrative aid. Part III outlines applicable psychological and cognitive research and potential prejudicial effects on juries stemming from the employment of IVEs in a trial setting under the current rules. Part IV examines several cases in which computer-generated animations were subjected to lower evidentiary standards and raises further concerns in applying the current rules to an IVE. Part V explains the need for revisions to the procedures for admitting an IVE as demonstrative evidence and concludes by recommending new procedures which should be implemented prior to the proliferation of IVEs in the courtroom.

I.  Distinguishing Immersive Virtual Environments

The term “virtual reality” is used in many contexts, and it is important to note the distinctions between VR technologies capable of facilitating IVEs, which are the subject of this Note, and other mediums for virtual environment (VE) interaction and display. Computergenerated VEs can be roughly grouped into three broad categories based on the level of user immersion:[22] non-immersive (desktop), semi-immersive, and immersive virtual environments.[23]


Non-immersive systems, which include Fish Tank and Desktop VR, are monitor-based VR systems where users engage with the VE through a basic desktop display using stereoscopic lenses or an inherent autostereoscopic feature.[24] These kinds of displays do not necessitate that the user wear a VR headset or glasses and typically do not surround the user visually.[25] Likewise, semi-immersive systems have similar technologies but use large screen monitors, large screen projector systems, or multiple television projection systems that increase the users field of view, thereby increasing the level of immersion.[26]

Separate from these categories are mixed-reality, or augmented reality (AR), technologies that combine physical and virtual objects and align them with the real-world environment.[27] AR environments create a local virtuality, which is mapped onto the physical environment around the user, rather than completely replacing the surrounding environment with a virtual one.[28]

An IVE, by contrast, “perceptually surrounds the user.”[29] This is accomplished with a combination of three-dimensional computer graphics, high-resolution stereoscopic projections, and motion tracking technologies that continually render virtual scenes to match the movements and viewpoint of the user.[30] Through the use of a head-mounted display (HMD),[31] sensory information from the physical world is replaced with the perception of a computergenerated, three-dimensional world in which the user is free to move and explore.[32] In the context of an IVE, VR can therefore be understood to mean “a computer-generated display that allows or compels the user (or users) to have a feeling of being present in an environment other than the one they are actually in and to interact with that environment.”[33]

The resulting sense of presence felt by the user is described as a function of an individual’s psychology,[34] representing the degree to which that user experiences a conscious presence in the virtual setting.[35] This effect on a user’s state of consciousness has been attributed to the unique vividness and interactivity of an IVE,[36] which distinguishes IVEs from prior forms of CGE.[37] This sense of consciousness created by an IVE also forms the basis for psychological concerns about leading to potential risks of unfair prejudice in using an IVE at trial.[38] However, prior to further discussion of the unique psychological issues raised by IVEs, it is important to understand how an IVE offered for use at trial would be evaluated under the current rules of evidence.

II.  Immersive Virtual Environments and the Federal Rules of Evidence

As previously noted, at trial, an IVE could be applied by courtroom attorneys for presentations to the jury that recreate crime and accident scenes, illustrate highly technical procedures, and demonstrate eyewitness or expert testimony. The most practical method of IVE application in the courtroom would be jurors donning individual HMDs during the course of, or simultaneous with, live testimony.

Though the use of IVEs in the courtroom remains largely unprecedented, the process for addressing the question of an IVE’s use at trial will likely be similar to that used for other forms of visual media.[39] At present, the Federal Rules of Evidence fail to make specific reference to any form of CGE, and therefore do not address the concept of an IVE.[40] Yet, in the absence of legislative revision, it is fair to assume that the admissibility of IVE evidence will be evaluated under existing basic evidentiary rules[41] as well as accompanying general principles which have developed among the courts for determining the admissibility of other forms of CGE.[42]

As a form of visual media, an IVE would need to be classified as either demonstrative—also called illustrative—or substantive evidence.[43] In the realm of CGE, courts have generally labeled 3D renderings as either computer animations (typically treated as demonstrative evidence) or computer simulations (typically treated as substantive evidence).[44] This classification is critical in determining the applicable foundational requirements, which vary due to the differing purposes for which the evidence is introduced.[45]

Substantive evidence is offered by the proponent “to help establish a fact in issue.”[46] Thus, a computer-generated simulation created through the application of scientific principles would be considered to have independent evidentiary value and therefore be evaluated as substantive evidence.[47] If treated similarly, an IVE used to reconstruct the moment of a car accident, created through software that was programmed to analyze and draw conclusions from pre-existing data (such as calculations, eyewitness testimony, and so forth) would be considered substantive evidence.[48]

One of the primary hurdles facing an IVE entered as substantive evidence at trial would be in laying the foundation for its admission.[49] Because of these foundational challenges, the primary method for introducing an IVE as substantive evidence at trial would likely be in a form accompanying expert testimony.[50] This introduction could be done in several ways: as “part of the basis for expert opinion testimony, an illustrative aid to expert testimony, or a stand-alone exhibit introduced through the testimony of an expert involved in creating the IVE.”[51] As substantive evidence, a testifying expert could draw conclusions about the accident based on the IVE simulation, and it might be admitted as an exhibit that would be made available to the jury for review in deliberations.[52] Yet, as such, both the expert who prepared the IVE and the underlying scientific principles and data used in its construction would be subject to validation.[53]

Demonstrative evidence, in contrast, is defined as “physical evidence that one can see and inspect . . . and that, while of probative value and [usually] offered to clarify testimony, does not play a direct part in the incident in question.”[54] Meaning that, in theory, demonstrative evidence itself serves merely to illustrate the verbal testimony of a witness and should not independently hold any probative value to the case.[55] As such, visual aids introduced as demonstrative evidence are not typically allowed into jury deliberations and are not relied on as the basis for expert opinion.[56] Because visual aids offered as demonstrative evidence are not formally admitted as exhibits, courts treat this kind of evidence more leniently than substantive evidence when evaluating its use at trial.[57] An IVE presented as an illustrative aid to expert testimony, rather than as a basis for expert testimony or an independent exhibit, would therefore not be subject to the same level of scrutiny as substantive evidence.[58]

Despite these standards being significantly lowered, an IVE offered as demonstrative evidence would still need to meet basic evidentiary standards of relevancy, fairness, and authentication.[59] However, it is important to note that the extent to which these requirements would be enforced is a question of judicial discretion and ultimately rests with the presiding trial judge.[60]

The initial inquiry into an IVE, regardless of whether it was offered for demonstrative purposes, would determine whether it was relevant under Federal Rules 401 and 402. Rule 401 would require that the IVE have a “tendency to make a fact more or less probable than it would be without the evidence” and be “of consequence in determining the action.”[61] After a preliminary determination of relevancy, and absent any restrictions in Rule 402,[62] a demonstrative IVE would also need to be authenticated using the guidelines of Rule 901.[63]

Rule 901(a) states that to “satisfy the requirement of authenticating or identifying an item of evidence, the proponent must produce evidence sufficient to support a finding that the item is what the proponent claims it is.”[64] With respect to computer-generated animations used as demonstrative evidence, the animation must “fairly and accurately reflect the underlying oral testimony . . . aid the jury’s understanding” and be authenticated by a witness.[65] Thus, an animation used solely to illustrate witness testimony requires only that the witness testify that it was an accurate representation of the testimony and,[66] in the case of an expert witness, that it would help the jury to understand the expert’s theory or opinion.[67] Using the current method for computergenerated animations, a witness with personal knowledge of the event in question or an expert who had been made aware of the circumstances surrounding the event could simply testify that the IVE was a fair and accurate portrayal of the expert’s testimony.[68]

Importantly, some commentators have posited that, as a newer technology, the foundational requirements imposed on an IVE could be higher than those required for existing forms of illustrative aid.[69] This might necessitate that the proponent of an IVE meet some or all of the more difficult foundational hurdlesbriefly mentioned aboveregarding the use of scientific evidence.[70] As with other questions of admissibility, however, this determination would be made by the trial judge and the imposition of additional requirements, more akin to substantive evidence, should not be taken as a certainty.[71] Though the underlying data in an IVE offered as demonstrative evidence would undoubtedly be challenged by an opposing party, similar challenges were made in the context of computergenerated animations and were rejected by the courts even during the earliest stages of that technology’s introduction into the legal system.[72]

Regardless of the outcome of future methods used for authentication and despite a finding of relevance using Rules 401 and 402, an IVE could still be excluded by the trial judge under the balancing test of Rule 403.[73] Rule 403 states that “[t]he court may exclude relevant evidence if its probative value is substantially outweighed by a danger of one or more of the following: unfair prejudice, confusing the issues, misleading the jury, undue delay, wasting time, or needlessly presenting cumulative evidence.”[74] These broad standards set out by Rule 403 are a result of the high level of subjectivity required in making an admissibility determination, which essentially dictates a case-by-case analysis.[75] As such, decisions made by the trial judge pursuant to Rule 403 are largely exercises of discretion and are reviewed almost exclusively for abuse of discretion at the appellate level.[76] Although a trial judge might exclude an IVE for any of the above reasons listed under Rule 403, the distinct potential for unfair prejudice created by an IVE is the source of concern for much of the remaining discussion in this Note.

The Rule 403 advisory committee notes define unfair prejudice as “an undue tendency to suggest decision on an improper basis, commonly, though not necessarily, an emotional one.”[77] Broadly speaking, decisions to exclude a piece of evidence for unfair prejudice can be broken down into two primary categories: emotionalism and misuse of evidence.[78] Unfair prejudice caused by overreliance on emotion can be understood as evidence deemed to be “overly charged with appeal to this less rational side of human nature.”[79] Though the goal of Rule 403 is not to exclude all forms of evidence that elicit emotional response, the aim of the trial judge is to moderate the extent to which this response occurs. Aside from emotional concerns, unfair prejudice also results when evidence is misused by the jury after being deemed “admissible for one purpose (or against one party) but not another.”[80] The risk of misuse arises when there is a high likelihood “that the jury will mistakenly consider the evidence on a particular issue or against a particular party, even when properly instructed not to do so.”[81]

In either case, it is necessary for the judge to evaluate whether the probative value of the evidence is substantially outweighed by the risk of a juror’s reliance on an improper basis.[82] To do so, the judge must also take into consideration whether or not the risk can be remedied by issuing a limiting instruction.[83] In making determinations about admissibility, however, it is important for a judge to understand the unique psychological factors implicated by the use of an IVE. Without so doing, a judge may come to a decision which appears on the surface to be well-founded, but ultimately fails to consider the full extent of the risks posed by the use of an IVE. In the next Part, I will discuss several psychological and cognitive factors which should be measured when determining the admissibility of an IVE as demonstrative evidence.

III.  Potential Prejudicial Impacts of Immersive Virtual Environments on Jury Decisionmaking

A.  Designing Emotion in a Virtual Environment

As discussed in Part I, the element of presence in an IVE distinguishes this form of presentation from other forms of CGE. The concept of presence can be understood to manifest itself in a VE in three ways: via social presence, physical presence, and self presence. This Note is primarily concerned with the latter two.[84] Self presence has been defined as “a psychological state in which virtual (para-authentic or artificial) self/selves are experienced as the actual self in either sensory or nonsensory ways.”[85] Similarly, physical presence has been explained as “a psychological state in which virtual (para-authentic or artificial) physical objects are experienced as actual physical objects in either sensory or nonsensory ways.”[86] Reported experiences of both user self and physical presence in IVEs have led researchers to examine the ways in which IVEs influence user emotion, empathy, and embodiment, each of which will be addressed in turn below.

While research into the effects of IVEs on user emotion remains an active area for experimentation and debate,[87] initial studies have shown significant links between user presence in an IVE and stimulated emotion. One particular area of research has focused on the impact of emotional content in VEs and the relationship between user feelings of presence and actual user emotion.[88] The basic premise behind this type of research follows the logic that “if a dark and scary real-life environment elicits anxiety, so will a corresponding VE if the user experiences presence in it.”[89]

Following this theory, studies have been conducted involving mood induction procedures (MIPs), in which VEs have been intentionally designed to provoke specific emotional states.[90] For example, one such study presented participants with three different virtual park scenarios using an HMD with head tracking software and an accompanying joystick to facilitate movement.[91] The three park renderings shared the same virtual structure and objects (for example, trees, lamps, and so forth), but the developers manipulated the sound, music, shadows, lights, and textures with the purpose of inducing either anxiety or relaxation in users. The third park served as a neutral control that was not designed to induce any emotion.[92] Participants were assessed for emotional predisposition prior to the study, and they answered questionnaires regarding emotion and presence throughout the study.[93] The results showed significant variability in user happiness and sadness depending on which park the participant experienced.[94] The anxious park, which contained darker imagery and shadows, reduced user happiness and positive effects, while increasing feelings of sadness and anxiety.[95] In contrast, the relaxing park, which contained brighter imagery, increased user quietness and happiness, while reducing anger, sadness, anxiety, and negative effects.[96] The neutral park, however, did not elicit significant measurable changes.

Building on the same research, a more recent study exposed participants to different virtual park scenarios intentionally designed to elicit one of five specific affective states: joy; anger; boredom; anxiety; and sadness.[97] Effects on participants emotional reactions were measured through both physiological responses (monitoring electrodermal activity) and self-reporting. Based on these measures, researchers found they were able to induce the intended emotions in almost all cases and that they could elicit different emotional states by applying only slight changes to the lighting conditions or sounds in the VE.[98] Thus, these measures exhibit further support for the notion that VEs may be specifically designed to induce intended emotional states through various MIPs and alterations to the design elements in a virtual scenario.[99]

In addition to studies on inducing emotional states, others have examined the effects of IVEs on user empathy.[100] As previously noted, a core fundamental difference between traditional CGE and IVEs is in the form of presentation. Any time an image is rendered on a screen, there is a possibility that a viewer will interpret the image objectively because it appears without a human operator (who would be viewed as a subjective party).[101] Yet, in a traditional CGE display, the physical surroundings of the courtroom remain within the perspective of the viewer and the animation or simulation playing on the screen often retains a fixed camera viewpoint.[102] In contrast, through an IVE, the user can effectively take on the role of any specific actor or third-party observer in any given scenario.[103]

A recent study examining the influence of a user’s point of view on his or her assessment of vehicle speed and culpability in a computer animated car crash sequence demonstrates this effect.[104] Participants were presented with three separate animations of a two-car collision from different points of view: overhead (behind and above Car 1), internal (inside Car 1), and facing (looking directly at Car 1).[105] They were then asked to fill out a questionnaire which involved apportioning blame to either Car 1 or Car 2.[106] The study results demonstrated substantial differences in overall culpability assessments depending on the participant’s point of view, with participants apportioning 92% of the blame to Car 1 from the facing position, but only 43% from the overhead view and 34% from the internal view.[107] Though the study acknowledged limitations on ecological validity, the results were in line with Feigenson and Dunn’s hypothesis that small changes and manipulations to an observer’s point of view in a computer-generated animation may “have various legally significant effects.”[108]

In another study, participants were divided into 2 x 2 groups based on levels of immersion and user personality traits.[109] Participants then watched a documentary news series through VRcontent-based or flat-screen-based technologies, depending on the immersion group.[110] The study found that presence in the VE positively influenced both empathy and embodiment—meaning that users in a higher immersion setting were more likely to feel a sense of compassion for the subjects of the news story.[111] Importantly, the authors of the study urged that immersion in a VE should be recharacterized “as a cognitive dimension alongside consciousness, awareness, understanding, empathizing, embodying, and contextualizing” rather than as a strong stimulus for facilitating illusion.[112] In other words, instead of viewing IVE technology as an illustrative aid in storytelling, it should be viewed as a factor influencing user cognition in reasoning through a proposed narrative.[113]

Based on current findings in both areas of research and despite ongoing debate regarding specific limitations and interplay between these factors in a VE, the potential for an IVE to be purposefully designed to elicit user emotions and empathy appears to exist. While relying on emotion and empathy in our day-to-day decisionmaking can be an ecologically valid tool of assessment, in the courtrooman intentionally hermetically sealed universeit poses a distinct risk of unintended prejudicial effects. Murtha v. City of Hartford provides an example of how these potential effects might be implicated in the trial setting.[114] In 2006, Connecticut Police Officer Robert Murtha was acquitted on all charges relating to his shooting a suspect who was evading police in a stolen car.[115] During the pursuit, the car stalled in snow on the side of the road.[116] As Murtha left his cruiser and approached the car, the suspect attempted to reenter the road and speed off. Murtha fired multiple shots into the driver’s side window that injured the fleeing driver. Dashcam footage from another police cruiser positioned behind Murtha showed him chasing the vehicle and firing into the car as it sped off.[117]

At trial, Murtha argued that his use of deadly force was justified as an act of self-defense because, at the time, he believed that the car was headed towards him.[118] Murtha presented the jury with a hybrid of the dash cam footage and a computergenerated animation to illustrate his point of view.[119] As the driver begins to pull onto the road, the original video freezes and an interspliced animation rotates the field of view from the liveaction shot to a recreation of Murtha’s first-person perspective.[120] Comparing the original footage to the animation, there are some clear discrepancies: (1) the car re-enters the road at a sharper angle; (2) Murtha is placed partially within the path of the car and his gun is already drawn and extended; (3) as the car begins to drive off, Murtha moves slowly alongside the car while firing instead of running.[121] However, over the prosecutor’s objections as to the inaccuracy of the animation, the judge determined that the video was a fair and accurate depiction of Murtha’s recollection and issued a limiting instruction that the animation was not meant to depict a precise reenactment.[122]

In creating a computer-generated display, a designer’s decision to provide one viewpoint over another “can potentially alter which ‘character’ in an evidence presentation a viewer identifies with, or aligns themselves with.”[123] Through the animation in Murtha, the jury effectively took on the role of the officer in the shooting. Putting any discrepancies in the animation aside, placing the jurors in the shoes of the officer alone created the potential for unfair prejudice resulting from actorobserver bias. If the same animation in Murtha was presented in the form of an IVE, the additional factor of user presence would further complicate this potential. Based on the above studies, an IVE can be intentionally designed to elicit, or even unintentionally cause, a user to feel strong emotions, empathy, and overall self-alignment, which would significantly magnify the risk of unfair prejudice. Though these potential sources of prejudice may not ultimately have been grounds for reversal in Murtha,[124] they should be recognized as important factors when addressing the question of prejudicial effects in an IVE.

B.  Body Ownership Illusions

When an IVE user feels strongly about another person’s emotions or circumstances in a VE, this can translate into a cognitive feeling of embodiment.[125] Thus, in addition to increasing user emotion and empathy through presence, the virtual body experienced by the user can begin to feel like an analog of the user’s biological body generated through user cognition.[126] As a result, the user-tracking technologies used to facilitate an IVE uniquely involve the potential to produce body ownership illusions (“BOIs”).[127] BOIs are created when non-bodily objects (like a virtual projection or prosthetic limb) are experienced as part of the body through a perceived association with bodily sensations such as touch or movement.[128] The first experiment by Botvinick and Cohen introduced the concept of BOIs through a rubber hand illusion.[129] Participants in the original experiment had their hands concealed and a rubber hand with a similar posture was placed in front of them. An experimenter then stroked both the real and rubber hands simultaneously, causing the majority of participants to report feeling that the rubber hand was a part of their own body.[130] This phenomenon, termed the rubber hand illusion, was later shown to activate areas of the brain “associated with anxiety and interoceptive awareness” when “the fake limb is under threat and at a similar level as when the real hand is threatened.”[131] Thus, participants in one study reacted in anticipation of pain, empathic pain, and anxiety when experimenters occasionally threatened a rubber hand with a needle while participants were under the effects of a BOI.[132]

Subsequent experiments have also tested the extent to which certain multisensory factors are necessary to induce BOIs.[133] While the original experiment involved a visuotactile cue (where participants experienced a combination of visual stimulation and physical contact), further experiments have induced BOIs solely through visuomotor input.[134] Visuomotor stimulation involves participants performing active or passive movements while simultaneously seeing the artificial body (or body part) perform the same movements.[135] Most significantly, this phenomenon has been shown to occur in VEs.[136]

For example, in one study, experimenters outfitted participants with an HMD and a handtracking data glove and asked them to focus on the movement of a virtually projected right arm which moved synchronously with the actions of their real right arm, hand, and fingers.[137] The participants’ real right arm was located approximately twenty centimeters away from the virtual projection. Participants were then asked to use their left arm, which was not tracked or projected, to point to their right arm.[138] The participants largely tended to misidentify their real hand and instead identify the virtual hand, in some cases even after the virtual simulation had terminated.[139] The results were consistent with prior studies involving the rubber hand illusion and showed that the illusion of ownership could occur as a result of visuomotor synchrony in movements between the real and virtual hand.[140]

Additional studies of BOIs in VR have led to consistent findings that VEs can produce these effects when homogenous body parts are moved synchronously.[141] These studies have found BOIs resulting from the synchronous movement of virtual legs,[142] upper bodies,[143] and even full bodies.[144]

In an IVE, the occurrence of BOIs as a result of visuomotor stimulation has significant implications as a potential source of unfair prejudice. Beyond the concern that user emotion and empathy in an IVE might cause a juror to sympathize more with a party whose perspective he or she shares, BOIs introduce a separate issue: synchrony between a juror’s movements and those of an actor perceived in an IVE could cause the juror to temporarily feel as if he or she is that person. While some psychological studies have highlighted benefits of inducing BOIs through VR in the courtroom, for example in the potential for reducing racial biases,[145] the risk for unfair prejudice is also exceptionally high. From the standpoint of emotional prejudice, BOIs created through an IVE can both cause the viewer to feel anxious or threatened in a scenario[146] and ultimately to identify with the avatar.[147] For example, if the animation in Murtha were presented through an IVE (with jurors wearing an HMD and data gloves), the jurors could feel as if the car was coming towards their own bodies, eliciting fear or anxiety through an apprehension of contact. Moreover, this vivid and emotional experience could cause a juror to disregard conflicting pallid evidence in the case as to the car’s trajectory or the sequence of events and unduly rely on the IVE, despite its being used merely as a representation of the propounding party or witness’s theory of the case.

IV.  Problems with the Current Rules for Demonstrative Computer-Generated Evidence

A.  Case Studies

When subjecting jurors to an IVE, both presence and the phenomenon of BOIs create a unique potential for unfair prejudice. Even though IVEs are uniquely immersive and extremely vivid when introduced as demonstrative evidence, they could still remain subject to surprisingly low evidentiary standards. While the rules presented in Part II may at face value appear to be a significant burden for the proponent of an IVE, as stated previously, the characterization of an IVE as substantive or demonstrative and the broad discretion afforded to trial judges can significantly impact the extent to which the rules are used to allow the use of IVE at trial. The treatment of CGE in the following cases is illustrative of the more lenient approach applied in many jurisdictions when dealing with demonstrative evidence.[148]

In Commonwealth v. Serge, a defendant found guilty of first-degree murder for killing his wife appealed the State’s use of a computer-generated animation as demonstrative evidence.[149] The animationintroduced to illustrate the expert testimonies of a forensic pathologist and crime scene reconstructionistpurported to show the manner in which the defendant shot his wife.[150] Prior to admitting the animation, the trial court required that it be authenticated as both a fair and accurate depiction of the testimony and that any potentially inflammatory material be excluded.[151] The trial court also issued a lengthy jury instruction at trial cautioning that the animation was a demonstrative exhibit for the sole purpose of illustrating expert testimony and cautioned the jury not to “confuse art with reality.”[152] The defendant challenged the animation as unfairly prejudicial and improperly authenticated under Pennsylvania Rule of Evidence 901(a) given that the depictions were unsupported by the record or the accompanying expert opinions.[153] The Pennsylvania Supreme Court found both that the animation was a proper depiction of the witness testimony and that the limiting instruction and lack of dramatic elements in the animation were sufficient to eliminate any concerns over prejudice.[154] The court affirmed the admissibility of the animation and held that the animation properly satisfied the basic requirements of Pennsylvania Rules of Evidence 401, 402, 403, and 901.[155]

More recently, in a Utah case—State v. Pereaa defendant convicted of two counts of aggravated murder and two counts of attempted murder appealed his sentence, arguing, in part, that computer-generated animations, excluded by the district court, were sufficiently authenticated under Utah Rule of Evidence 901(a).[156] At trial, the defendant attempted to introduce two animations to visually represent the testimony of a crime scene reconstruction expert.[157] The expert testified that “although he did not personally create the animations, they ‘g[a]ve an indication of what [he] believe[d] may have happened,’” making it easier for the jury to understand his testimony.[158] The State objected for lack of foundation and on the grounds that the animations did not accurately represent the facts, because under the State’s theory there was only one shooter.[159] Reversing the ruling of the district court, the Utah Supreme Court held that despite a lack of knowledge about the creation of the animation on the part of the testifying expert, Rule 901 “does not require that the demonstrative evidence be uncontroversial, but only that it accurately represents what its proponent claims.”[160] The district court’s exclusion was an error because the crime scene reconstruction expert confirmed that the animations accurately represented his interpretation of the facts.

In both cases, the computer-generated animations were deemed relevant under Rules 401 and 402, properly authenticated under Rule 901, and passed the balancing test of Rule 403. However, in neither case were the proponents of the animations obligated to meet foundational requirements beyond an assertion that the animation “fairly and accurately” depicted the testimony of the witnesses—despite the fact that the animations were constructed solely using witness testimony about their memories of the event. Additionally, both courts found that the trial court’s issuance of limiting instructions to the jury was sufficient to combat any prejudicial effects. Under examination, the court’s analyses contain multiple flaws which would be further complicated if IVEs were at issue.

B.  Issues with the Court’s Analyses

First, in creating computer-generated representations of a witness’s testimony “[n]o matter how much evidence exists, there is never enough to fill in every detail necessary. . . . The expert (or the animator) must make assumptions to fill in the blanks.”[161] In Serge, like in Murtha, the animators took significant liberties in creating the animation.[162] By placing a knife next to the victim and dressing the defendant’s character in red plaid, the animators made decisions that were not necessarily supported by the physical evidence but were then authenticated by the accompanying witness’s memory or an expert’s theory as to what happened.[163]

Like an animation, the creation of an IVE inevitably involves choices by a designer regarding not only what is perceived, but also how it is perceived. Without proper safeguards or consideration, a party at trial could ostensibly introduce an IVE for demonstrative purposes which appeared to be sufficiently limited in emotional content to the eyes of the trial judge but was designed using MIPs to subtly influence jury attitudes towards a given scenario. For example, in arguing a self-defense claim, a party could ask designers of an IVE to select color palettes and illumination levels more likely to elicit fear and anxiety.[164] As explained in Part III, even subtle or indirect changes to factors such as lighting, point of view, level of interactivity, or synchrony of movement can have significant psychological implications for users of an IVE.[165] However, none of these factors are involved in the current analysis for demonstrative CGE in many jurisdictions.[166]

Second, it seems clear that in combatting highly vivid demonstrative evidence, “the opponent of the animation should be allowed [on cross-examination] to demonstrate to the jury that the . . . animation [is] based, at least partially, on assumptions and conjectures, and not on purely objective, scientific factual determinations.”[167] Yet, under the current standards for demonstrative CGE, many jurisdictions do not require the testifying witness to have personal knowledge regarding the creation of the animation.[168] In Perea, for example, the animation was admitted despite the accompanying witness possessing no information about the creation of the animation.[169] A similar decision by a trial judge to admit an IVE as demonstrative evidence, without an accompanying witness having knowledge about the decisions or assumptions made in creating the IVE, would likewise significantly disadvantage an opponent in combatting its highly vivid qualities through cross-examination.

Third, both courts relied heavily on jury instructions to moderate the potential prejudicial impacts of the animations on the jury.[170] Though the general rule is to assume that juries will abide by limiting instructions,[171] the Supreme Court has previously recognized that “there are some contexts in which the risk that the jury will not, or cannot, follow instructions is so great . . . that the practical and human limitations of the jury system cannot be ignored.”[172] Moreover, research in the field of social psychology has “repeatedly demonstrated that . . . limiting instructions are unsuccessful at controlling jurors’ cognitive processes.”[173] While this does not necessitate the presumption that all jury instructions are ineffective, it does call into question whether a jury subjected to the highly vivid and unique psychological effects of an IVE might have trouble following a judge’s directions as to the permissible and impermissible purposes for its use.

V.  Recommendations

In anticipation of the onset of IVEs in the courtroom, this Note proposes several changes to the current standards for admissibility, as well as judicial guidelines for best practice in moderating the prejudicial impacts of IVEs.

A.  Stricter Foundational Requirements

Though it would be impractical to develop a “one-size-fits-all” method in dealing with the numerous potential contexts and purposes for which an IVE might be offered as demonstrative evidence, uniformly increasing the foundational requirements for admitting demonstrative IVEs would help to combat some of the potential sources for prejudice.

In State v. Swinton, the Connecticut Supreme Court recognized the need for changes in the rules governing demonstrative evidence with regard to evolving computer technologies.[174] Addressing the binary distinction of the courts between computer animations and computer simulations, the court recognized that there are some kinds of evidence which do “not fall cleanly within either category.”[175] Though Swinton addressed the enhancement of photographs through Adobe Photoshop, the court’s discussion is particularly applicable in relation to an IVE.[176] The court found that “the difference between presenting evidence and creating evidence was blurred”[177] and endorsed a previously established general rule requiring that in all cases involving CGE there be “testimony by a person with some degree of computer expertise, who has sufficient knowledge to be examined and cross-examined about the functioning of the computer.”[178] In addition, the court went one step further in setting out factors with which the expert should be familiar and which could be weighed in determining the reliability of, and adherence to, procedural requirements.[179]

Adopting the court’s logic, this Note recommends that as a basic requirement, an expert who prepared the IVE should be present at the trial to testify regarding the expert’s qualifications and the underlying processes used to create the IVE. This would ensure that the opposing party has the opportunity to cross-examine the expert regarding the underlying data and assumptions used in its creation. In continued recognition of the differences between substantive and demonstrative evidence, this would not necessitate that the proponent satisfy all of the requirements for admitting scientific evidence under Rule 702 (and the Daubert or Frye tests).[180] However, this would at least afford the opposing party the opportunity to cross-examine someone with personal knowledge of the IVE technology and its creation.[181]

B.  Evaluating and Limiting Prejudicial Effects

While establishing an adequate foundation by requiring the presence of an informed expert works to combat some of the unfairness stemming from reliability and misuse of evidence under the current demonstrative standards, this alone is insufficient to curb the range of significant potentials for prejudice. In addition to raising the foundational requirements, there are several factors which should be considered by a judge in conducting the Rule 403 balancing test. In addressing the potential for juror’s unfair reliance on an IVE, consideration of the factors identified in Part IV—chiefly the role of presence and BOIs—should be a necessary predicate to admission. This would require judges to scrutinize not only the design factors in an IVE, but also the level of interactivity facilitated.

Interestingly, beyond mere consideration of such factors, it may also be possible for judges to take affirmative steps to impose limitations on an IVE which could help to mitigate juror overreliance. As this Note has repeatedly stated, the source of many of the potentials for prejudice created by IVEs is their unique vividness and interactivity, which produce feelings of presence and body ownership in the user.[182] Both psychologicalpresence research and BOI studies indicate that there may be ways to limit, reduce, or remove the feelings of presence and ownership in a VE.[183] Such phenomenon, termed as “breaks in presence” (BIPs),[184] occur when the user’s feelings of ownership or consciousness within the VE are disrupted by perceived virtual or real-world interferences.[185]

Under Rule 611(a), judges have broad authority to regulate the admission of demonstrative evidence.[186] As such, judges could potentially use BIPs to mitigate the prejudicial effects of an IVE. Multiple studies have concluded that BOIs occur in VEs only when the movements depicted are relatively synchronous.[187] Because of this, “[w]hen there is asynchrony the illusion does not occur.”[188] With this knowledge, a judge would have the option to instruct the proponent of an IVE to increase the latency (delay) between the movements of the juror and the avatar, thereby reducing the likelihood that a BOI would occur. In another study, examiners found that replacing a perceived limb with a virtual arrow indicator would similarly reduce the BOI phenomenon.[189] Thus, an alternative option might be to instruct the proponent to limit the realistic qualities of the avatar by replacing human features with indicators. Naturally, as further studies are completed and the concepts of presence and ownership in VEs become better understood, so too will the options available to judges in imposing limitations.

Conclusion

As was recognized by the drafters of the Federal Rules of Evidence, it is difficult to define bright line admissibility rules.[190] Despite these difficulties, it stands that the current treatment of demonstrative evidence in many jurisdictions does not properly accommodate IVEs. Though it may appear contrary to logic to think that an IVE could be treated like a chart or graph in the courtroom, under current standards this might very well become the case in some jurisdictions. This author agrees that “every new development is eligible for a first day in court;[191] however, we as a legal community should be cognizant of the differences between past and emerging technologies and of the potential prejudicial risks newer technologies may pose. It is inevitable that IVEs will continue to make their way into the courtroom, but they should not proceed unchecked. The proposed increase in authentication requirements, as well as the potential factors for judges in evaluating and moderating the use of IVEs in the courtroom, are but an initial step in integrating IVEs for courtroom use. Thus, it remains essential that further psychological and cognitive studies be conducted with regard to the use of IVEs in the courtroom.


[*] *.. Senior Submissions Editor, Southern California Law Review, Volume 92; J.D. Candidate 2019, University of Southern California Gould School of Law; B.A. 2015, University of California, Riverside. My sincere gratitude to Professor Dan Simon for his guidance and the editors of the Southern California Law Review for their excellent work.  I would also like to thank my parents, Pamela and Robert Bunker, for their unwavering support and encouragement.

 [1]. High Impact Bringing Virtual Reality to the Courtroom, High Impact, https://highimpact.com/news/High-Impact-to-Bring-Virtual-Reality-to-the-Courtroom (last visited Jan. 23, 2019).

 [2]. Damian Schofield, The Use of Computer Generated Imagery in Legal Proceedings, 13 Digital Evidence & Electronic Signature L. Rev. 3, 3 (2016). Some commentators have attributed the increase in use of computer-generated evidence (“CGE”) in the courtroom to three primary factors: (1) we have become a more visual society; (2) people retain much more of what they see than what they hear; and (3) technological advancements and decreasing costs are making this form of evidence more affordable for clients. See Mary C. Kelly & Jack N. Bernstein, Comment, Virtual Reality: The Reality of Getting It Admitted, 13 John Marshall J. Computer & Info. L. 145, 148–50 (1994).

 [3]. Carrie Leonetti & Jeremy Bailenson, High-Tech View: The Use of Immersive Virtual Environments in Jury Trials, 93 Marq. L. Rev. 1073, 1073 (2010).

 [4]. Compare Betsy S. Fielder, Are Your Eyes Deceiving You?: The Evidentiary Crisis Regarding the Admissibility of Computer Generated Evidence, 48 N.Y.L. Sch. L. Rev. 295 (2003) (discussing potential problems posed by the use of CGE), and Gareth Norris, Computer-Generated Exhibits, the Use and Abuse of Animations in Legal Proceedings, 40 Brief 10 (2011) (weighing the pros and cons of computer-generated animations in the courtroom), with Fred Galves, Where the Not-So-Wild Things Are: Computers in the Courtroom, the Federal Rules Of Evidence, and the Need for Institutional Reform and More Judicial Acceptance, 13 Harv. J.L. & Tech. 161 (2000) (arguing that computer-generated animations are akin to earlier forms of demonstrative media and should be introduced into the courtroom under existing standards).

 [5]. See, e.g., Juries ‘Could Enter Virtual Crime Scenes’ Following Research, BBC (May 24, 2016), http://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-stoke-staffordshire-36363172 (reporting on a £140,000 European Commission grant to the Staffordshire University project for research and experiments on technology and techniques to transport jurors to virtual crime scenes).

 [6]. Fredric I. Lederer, The Courtroom 21 Project: Creating the Courtroom of the Twenty-First Century, 43 Judges’ J., Winter 2004, at 39, 42.

 [7]. Id.

 [8]. Id.

 [9]. Lars C. Ebert et al., The Forensic Holodeck: An Immersive Display for Forensic Crime Scene Reconstructions, 10 Forensic Sci. Med. Pathology 623, 62426 (2014).

 [10]. Id. A similar virtual reality (“VR”) reconstruction was developed in the United States by Emblematic Group in 2012 using audio files of 911 calls, witness testimony, and architectural drawings to re-create the events of the widely publicized Trayvon Martin shooting. Emblematic Group, One Dark Night-Emblematic Group VR, YouTube (May 9, 2015), https://www.youtube.com/watch?v
=1hW7WcwdnEg. It is also offered for download in the Google Play and Steam Store. See Mike McPhate, California Today: In Virtual Reality, Investigating the Trayvon Martin Case, NY Times (Feb. 24, 2017), https://nyti.ms/2mflo8f (interviewing one of the creators).

 [11]. See Marc Cieslak, Virtual Reality to Aid Auschwitz War Trials of Concentration Camp Guards, BBC (Nov. 20, 2016), http://www.bbc.com/news/technology-38026007.

 [12]. Although the immersive virtual environment (“IVE”) version has not yet been used at trial, the same 3-D model was previously utilized in the prosecution of wartime SS camp guard Reinhold Hanning to help assert his point of view from his post at a watchtower in the camp. Id.

 [13]. Basic VR headsets can be purchased for under $100 (for example, Google Cardboard and Samsung Gear VR), with more high-end headsets costing around $600 (for example, Oculus Rift and HTC Vive). See John Gaudiosi, Over 200 Million VR Headsets to Be Sold by 2020, Fortune (Jan. 21, 2016), http://fortune.com/2016/01/21/200-million-vr-headsets-2020; see also Stevi Rex, Global Virtual Reality Industry to Reach $7.2 Billion in Revenues in 2017, Greenlight Insights (Apr. 11, 2017), https://greenlightinsights.com/virtual-reality-industry-report-7b-2017 (forecasting global VR product sales to reach $7.2 billion by the end of 2017).

 [14]. See, e.g., Lamber Goodnow Legal Team Brings Virtual Reality Technology to the Courtroom, PR Newswire (Jan. 27, 2017), https://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/lamber-goodnow-legal-team
-brings-virtual-reality-technology-to-the-courtroom-300397710.html (reporting on Arizona personal injury firm advertising use of VR in pending cases) (“In the old days, I’d use demonstrative exhibits, visual aids and witness statements in an attempt to ‘transport a jury to an accident scene.’ With virtual reality, not only can I transport jurors to the accident scene, I can put them in the car at impact.”).

 [15]. See, e.g., High Impact Bringing Virtual Reality to the Courtroom, supra note 1.

 [16]. See Nsikan Akpan, How Cops Used Virtual Reality to Recreate Tamir Rice, San Bernardino Shootings, PBS News Hour (Jan. 13, 2016, 5:00 PM), https://www.pbs.org/newshour/science/virtual-reality-tamir-rice-3d-laser-scans-shootings-san-bernardino (discussing law enforcement agencies use of laser scanners at crime scenes and current projects to convert these kinds of scans for use with VR headsets) (“That’s what I see coming. We’re going to be putting these goggles on juries and say look around and tell me what you see.”). For more on various types of 3-D laser scanning devices employed by law enforcement in the United States, including use with drone technologies, see Robert Galvin, Capture the Crime Scene, Officer (Jul. 19, 2017), https://www.officer.com/investigations/article
/12339566/3d-crime-scene-documentation-for-law-enforcement.

 [17]. See Jeremy N. Bailenson et al., Courtroom Applications of Virtual Environments, Immersive Virtual Environments, and Collaborative Virtual Environments, 28 Law & Pol’y 249, 255–58 (2006).

 [18]. Leonetti & Bailenson, supra note 3, at 1076.

 [19]. See Bailenson et al., supra note 17, at 258–60.

 [20]. Leonetti & Bailenson, supra note 3, at 1118.

 [21]. Caitlin O. Young, Note, Employing Virtual Reality Technology at Trial: New Issues Posed by Rapid Technological Advances and Their Effects on Jurors’ Search for “The Truth,93 Tex. L. Rev. 257, 258 (2014).

 [22]. For further explanation of the concept of immersion in virtual environments (“VEs”), see Mel Slater & Sylvia Wilbur, A Framework for Immersive Virtual Environments (FIVE): Speculations on the Role of Presence in Virtual Environments, 6 Presence 603, 604–05 (1997) (“Immersion is a description of a technology, and describes the extent to which the computer displays are capable of delivering an inclusive, extensive, surrounding and vivid illusion of reality to the senses of a human participant.” (emphasis in original)).

 [23]. Patrick Costello, Health and Safety Issues Associated with Virtual Reality – A Review of Current Literature 6–8 (1997), http://www.agocg.ac.uk/reports/virtual/37/37.pdf.

 [24]. See Frank Stenicke et al., Interscopic User Interface Concepts for Fish Tank Virtual Reality Systems, in 2007 IEEE Virtual Reality Conference 27, 27–28 (2007).

 [25]. George Robertson et al., Immersion in Desktop Virtual Reality, in Proceedings of the 10th Annual ACM Symposium on User Interface Software and Technology 11, 11 (1997); see also Stenicke et al., supra note 24, at 27. Modern-day desktop VR examples can be seen in video games, like the Call of Duty franchise, where users control their in-game avatars through a handheld controller or mouse/keyboard interface. These kinds of video games can be played from both first-person and third-person perspectives and computer-generated animations are rendered on a monitor (primarily via television and computer screens).

 [26]. Stenicke et al., supra note 24, at 27.

 [27]. See D.W.F. van Krevelen & R. Poelman, A Survey of Augmented Reality Technologies, Applications and Limitations, 9 Int’l J. Virtual Reality, no. 2, 2010, at 1, 1.

 [28]. Id. A popular example of this type of technology can be seen in Niantic’s Pokémon Go, which was released for mobile devices in July 2016. The game utilizes a user’s phone/tablet camera (which functions to depict their surrounding physical environment) and overlays virtual animations of monsters onto the camera image. Users can interact with the monsters through their touch-screen interface and the user’s real-world movements are tracked using their devices GPS services. See Pokémon Go, https://support.pokemongo.nianticlabs.com/hc/en-us (last visited Dec. 28, 2018).

 [29]. See Bailenson et al., supra note 17, at 251.

 [30]. Id. at 250–53, 259.

 [31]. An alternative configuration is a Cave Automatic Virtual Environment (“CAVE”) where the user moves in a room surrounded by rear-projection screens. The user, wearing stereoscopic glasses instead of a head-mounted display (“HMD”), is tracked through an electromagnetic device and updated visual images are reflected on the screens. See id. at 253.

 [32]. Id.

 [33]. Ralph Schroeder, Social Interaction in Virtual Environments: Key Issues, Common Themes,

and a Framework for Research, in The Social Life of Avatars 1, 2 (2002) (citation omitted).

 [34]. For a comprehensive overview of studies on user feelings of presence in IVEs, see generally James J. Cummings & Jeremy N. Bailenson, How Immersive Is Enough? A Meta-Analysis of the Effect of Immersive Technology on User Presence, 19 Media Psychol. 272 (2016) (analyzing meta data collected from eighty-three studies on immersive system technology and user experiences of presence).

 [35]. Id. at 274. Of the factors relating to the level of user presence, “results show that increased levels of user-tracking, the use of stereoscopic visuals, and wider fields of view of visual displays are significantly more impactful than improvements to most other immersive system features, including quality of visual and auditory content.” Id. at 272.

 [36]. Neal Feigenson, Too Real? The Future of Virtual Reality Evidence, 28 Law & Pol’y 271,

273 (2006). Vividness means the extent to which the display forms a “sensorially rich environment,” and interactivity results from the ability of the user to “influence the form or content of the mediated environment.” Id.

 [37]. See Young, supra note 21, at 261.

 [38]. See infra Part III.

 [39]. Leonetti & Bailenson, supra note 3, at 1077.

 [40]. See generally Fed. R. Evid.

 [41]. Feigenson, supra note 36, at 276.

 [42]. See generally Laura Wilkinson Smalley, Establishing Foundation to Admit Computer-Generated Evidence as Demonstrative or Substantive Evidence, 57 Am. Juris. Proof of Facts 3d 455 (Westlaw 2018) (providing an overview of the various legal foundations for CGE’s admission into evidence).

 [43]. Karen L. Campbell et al., Avatar in the Courtroom: Is 3D Technology Ready for Primetime?, 63 Fed’n Def. & Corp. Counsel Q. 295, 296 (2013).

 [44]. Id.

 [45]. Id. at 298.

 [46]. Substantive Evidence, Black’s Law Dictionary (10th ed. 2014).

 [47]. Kurtis A. Kemper, Admissibility of Computer–Generated Animation, 111 A.L.R. 5th 529, § 2 (2003).

 [48]. Id.

 [49]. Leonetti & Bailenson, supra note 3, at 1098–99 (“The impediments that a proponent of an IVE would face, under Rule 403, the best evidence rule, or Rule 901, are chiefly matters of foundation, i.e., the admissibility of an IVE turns on whether the proponent could establish its accuracy, reliability, and authenticity.”).

 [50]. Id. For example, a blood spatter analyst could use a recreation of the crime scene to explain her findings.

 [51]. Id. at 1099 (footnotes omitted). For a comprehensive view of potential courtroom and pre-trial IVE applications, see generally Bailenson et al., supra note 17.

 [52]. Leonetti & Bailenson, supra note 3, at 1099.

 [53]. Campbell et al., supra note 43, at 299. Thus, requiring a sufficient showing of:

(1) the qualifications of the expert who prepared the simulation and (2) the capability and reliability of the computer hardware and software used to create the simulation . . . [that] (3) the calculations and processing of data were done on the basis of principles meeting the standards for scientific evidence under Rule 702; (4) the data used to make the calculations were reliable, relevant, complete, and input properly; and (5) the process produced an accurate result.

Id.

 [54]. Demonstrative Evidence, Black’s Law Dictionary (10th ed. 2014).

 [55]. I. Neel Chatterjee, Admitting Computer Animations: More Caution and New Approach Are Needed, 62 Def. Couns. J. 36, 37 (1995).

 [56]. Smalley, supra note 42, § 8.

 [57]. Id.

 [58]. Despite the fact that an IVE would utilize computer programming to create the illustrative aid, the separate treatment of an IVE as demonstrative or substantive evidence would not depend on whether VR technology was employed to achieve the rendering. See Galves, supra note 4, at 228 (“Although demonstrative animations use programs in design, the substantive result they create is based on the witness’s testimony rather than numerical calculations and other underlying input data.”).

 [59]. Feigenson, supra note 36, at 276. Although demonstrative evidence is not technically “evidence” in the context of the Federal Rules, standards of relevance, fairness, and authentication are still enforced by courts in weighing the admissibility of demonstrative evidence through analogy. Id.

 [60]. See Fed. R. Evid. 611(a). “The court should exercise reasonable control over the mode and order of examining witnesses and presenting evidence so as to: (1) make those procedures effective for determining the truth; (2) avoid wasting time; and (3) protect witnesses from harassment or undue embarrassment.” Id.

 [61]. Fed. R. Evid. 401.

 [62]. See Fed. R. Evid. 402. “Relevant evidence is admissible unless any of the following provides otherwise: the United States Constitution; a federal statute; these rules; or other rules prescribed by the Supreme Court. Irrelevant evidence is not admissible.” Id.

 [63]. See Fed. R. Evid. 901(a).

 [64]. Id.

 [65]. Chatterjee, supra note 55, at 37.

 [66]. Smalley, supra note 42, § 9.

 [67]. See, e.g., Gosser v. Commonwealth, 31 S.W.3d 897, 903 (Ky. 2000) (“[B]ecause a computer-generated diagram, like any diagram, is merely illustrative of a witness’s testimony, its admission normally does not depend on testimony as to how the diagram was prepared, e.g., how the data was gathered or inputted into the computer.”), abrogated on other grounds by Elery v. Commonwealth, 368 S.W.3d 78 (Ky. 2012).

 [68]. See Fed. R. Evid. 901(b)(1). Significantly, this would include a re-creation of a scene or accident based on the personal knowledge of a sponsoring witness. See Leonetti & Bailenson, supra note 3, at 1098.

 [69]. See Feigenson, supra note 36, at 277.

 [70]. Campbell et al., supra note 43, at 299.

 [71]. Though, as argued in Part V, subjecting all IVE evidence to more substantive standards could have a moderating effect on some of the concerns raised in Part III.

 [72]. See, e.g., People v. McHugh, 476 N.Y.S.2d 721, 722–23 (Sup. Ct. 1984) (rejecting a motion for a pre-trial Frye hearing despite no prior instances of computer-generated animations being used at trial) (“While this appears to be the first time such a graphic computer presentation has been offered at a criminal trial, every new development is eligible for a first day in court.”); see also People v. Hood, 62 Cal. Rptr. 2d 137, 140 (Ct. App. 1997) (holding that the Kelly formulation for “new scientific procedures” does not apply to computer-generated animations when introduced as demonstrative evidence).

 [73]. See Fed. R. Evid. 403.

 [74]. Id.

 [75]. Christopher B. Mueller & Laird C. Kirkpatrick, Federal Evidence § 4:12 (4th  ed. 2013) (“Much depends on surrounding facts, circumstances, issues, the conduct of trial, and the evidence adduced already and expected as proceedings move forward.”).

 [76]. Id.

 [77]. Fed. R. Evid. 403, advisory committee’s notes to 1972 proposed rules.

 [78]. Mueller & Kirkpatrick, supra note 75, § 4:13.

 [79]. Id.

[E]vidence is unfairly prejudicial in the sense of being too emotional if it is best characterized as sensational or shocking; if it provokes anger, inflames passions, or if it arouses overwhelmingly sympathetic reactions; provokes hostility or revulsion; arouses punitive impulses; or appeals to emotion in ways that seem likely to overpower reason.

Id. (footnotes omitted).

 [80]. Id.

 [81]. Id.; see, e.g., United States v. Brown, 490 F.2d 758, 764 (D.C. Cir. 1973) (“Despite a limiting instruction to the effect that the evidence is to be considered solely on the issue of the declarant’s state of mind (the proper purpose), there is the ever-present danger that the jury will be unwilling or unable to so confine itself.”).

 [82]. Fed. R. Evid. 403, advisory committee’s notes to 1972 proposed rules.

 [83]. Id.

 [84]. See Kwan Min Lee, Presence, Explicated, 14 Comm. Theory 27, 42 (2004). Though important with respect to the study of co-presence and other social phenomenon experienced in an IVE, social presence falls outside the scope of this Note. Social presence pertains to the way in which virtually rendered social actors are experienced as actual social actors by a user and is an important concept in the understanding of feelings of co-presence between multiple users in a VE. For more on social presence, see id. at 45.

 [85]. Id. at 46.

 [86]. Id. at 44.

 [87]. Julia Diemer et al., The Impact of Perception and Presence on Emotional Reactions: A Review of Research in Virtual Reality, 6 Frontiers Psychol., Jan. 2015, at 1.

 [88]. See R.M. Baños et al., Immersion and Emotion: Their Impact on the Sense of Presence, 7 CyberPsychology & Behav. 734, 735 (2004); see also Rosa M. Baños et al., Presence and Emotions in Virtual Environments: The Influence of Stereoscopy, 11 CyberPsychology & Behav. 1, 2–3 (2008).

 [89]. Anna Felnhofer et al., Is Virtual Reality Emotionally Arousing? Investigating Five Emotion Inducing Virtual Park Scenarios, 48 Int’l J. Hum.-Computer Stud. 48, 49 (2015) (citation omitted).

 [90]. For a seminal text on psychological laboratory designs for mood induction procedures, see generally Maryanne Martin, On the Induction of Mood, 10 Clinical Psychol. R. 669 (1990).

 [91]. Giuseppe Riva et al., Affective Interactions Using Virtual Reality: The Link Between Presence and Emotions, 10 CyberPsychology & Behav. 45, 46–47 (2007).

 [92]. Id. at 46.

 [93]. Id. at 46–48.

 [94]. Id. at 47.

 [95]. Id. at 49.

 [96]. Id.

 [97]. See Felnhofer et al., supra note 89, at 50.

 [98]. Id. at 53.

 [99]. Id. at 54. Interestingly, in contrast to these findings, an experiment performed using a desktop VR system to attempt to assess whether a simulated level of illumination could impact the affective appraisal of users in a VE failed to yield any measurable results. See Alexander Toet et al., Is a Dark Virtual Environment Scary?, 12 CyberPsychology & Behav. 363, 363 (2009). This suggests that the lack of interactivity in a non-immersive environment means that these kinds of systems may not pose the same risks as an IVE in strongly influencing user emotion through design. See id.

 [100]. See generally, e.g., Donghee Shin, Empathy and Embodied Experience in Virtual Environment: To What Extent Can Virtual Reality Stimulate Empathy and Embodied Experience?, 78 Computers Hum. Behav. 64 (2017).

 [101]. Schofield, supra note 2, at 13.

 [102]. See id.

 [103]. Id.

 [104]. See Gareth Norris, The Influence of Angle of View on Perceptions of Culpability and Vehicle Speed for a Computer-Generated Animation of a Road Traffic Accident, 20 Psychiatry, Psychol. & L. 248, 252–53 (2013).

 [105]. Id. at 250.

 [106]. Id. at 251.

 [107]. Id.

 [108]. Id. at 252 (citation omitted).

 [109]. Shin, supra note 100, at 66.

 [110]. Id.

 [111]. Id. (“By experiencing a virtual version of the story location as a witness/participant, and by feeling the perspective of a character depicted in the story, users received specialized access to the sights and sounds (and even to the feelings and emotions) associated with the story.”).

 [112]. Id. at 71. Interestingly, the study also found that, despite higher levels of immersion, users with a lower empathy trait had lower levels of reported embodiment and empathy—suggesting that the disposition of certain users may have a correlation on their empathy within a virtual world. Id. at 69.

 [113]. Id. at 69 (“VR developers propose immersion but users process it.”).

 [114]. See State v. Murtha, CR03-0568598T (Conn. Super. Ct., JD Hartford, 2006); see also Neal Feigenson & Christina Spiesel, Law on Display: The Digital Transformation of Legal Persuasion and Judgment 92103 (2009) (discussing the case in detail).

 [115]. Feigenson & Spiesel, supra note 114, at 92.

 [116]. Id.

 [117]. Id.

 [118]. Id. at 92–93.

 [119]. Id. at 93–94.

 [120]. Id.; see also NYU Press, Law on Display – Murtha Video, Part One, YouTube (Sept. 23, 2009), https://youtu.be/kWMyBg6Zt-o (showing the original police footage); NYU Press, Law on Display – Murtha Video, Part 2, YouTube (Sept. 23, 2009), https://youtu.be/J0kd-vv9DeM (showing the edited footage with the animation used at trial).

 [121]. Feigenson & Spiesel, supra note 114, at 97.

 [122]. Id. at 9495.

 [123]. Schofield, supra note 2, at 13.

 [124]. Feigenson & Spiesel, supra note 114, at 251 n.113.

 [125]. See Konstantina Kilteni et al., The Sense of Embodiment in Virtual Reality, 21 Presence 373, 381–82 (2012).

 [126]. Id.

 [127]. Natalie Salmanowitz, Unconventional Methods for a Traditional Setting: The Use of Virtual Reality to Reduce Implicit Racial Bias in the Courtroom, 15 U.N.H. L. Rev. 117, 141 (2016) (“Instead of simply personifying an animated character in a digital game, immersive virtual environments can induce body ownership illusions, in which individuals temporarily feel as though another person’s body part is in fact their own.”).

 [128]. Konstantina Kilteni et al., Over My Fake Body: Body Ownership Illusions for Studying the Multisensory Basis of Own-Body Perception, Frontiers Hum. Neuroscience, Mar. 2015, at 1, 2.

 [129]. Matthew Botvinick & Jonathan Cohen, Rubber Hands ‘Feel’ Touch that Eyes See, 391 Nature 756, 756 (1998).

 [130]. Id.

 [131]. Kilteni et al., supra note 128, at 4.

 [132]. See generally H. Henrik Ehrsson et al., Threatening a Rubber Hand that You Feel Is Yours Elicits a Cortical Anxiety Response, 104 Proc. Nat’l Acad. Sci. U.S. 9828 (2007).

 [133]. See, e.g., Kilteni et al., supra note 128, at 3.

 [134]. Id. at 5, 8.

 [135]. Id. at 8.

 [136]. See id. at 11–12.

 [137]. Maria V. Sanchez-Vives et al., Virtual Hand Illusion Induced by Visuomotor Correlations, PLoS ONE, Apr. 2010, at 1, 3, https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article/file?id=10.1371/journal.pone
.0010381&type=printable.

 [138]. Id.

 [139]. Id. at 5 (“[I]n spite of the fact that they saw the virtual hand move, did not feel their hand move, nor move it, they still blindly pointed towards the virtual hand when asked to point where they felt their hand to be.”).

 [140]. Id. at 2.

 [141]. See, e.g., Kilteni et al., supra note 128, at 9.

 [142]. See Elena Kokkinara & Mel Slater, Measuring the Effects Through Time of the Influence of Visuomotor and Visuotactile Synchronous Stimulation on a Virtual Body Ownership Illusion, 43 Perception 43, 56 (2014) (“The results provide evidence that congruent multisensory and sensorimotor feedback between the unseen real and the seen virtual legs can induce sensations that the seen legs are part of the actual body.”).

 [143]. See Konstantina Kilteni et al., Drumming in Immersive Virtual Reality: The Body Shapes the Way We Play, 19 IEEE Transactions on Visualization & Computer Graphics 597, 599, 603 (2013) (“Seeing a virtual body from first person perspective, and receiving spatiotemporally congruent multisensory and sensorimotor feedback with respect to the physical body entails an illusion of ownership over that virtual body.”).

 [144]. See Domna Banakou et al., Illusory Ownership of a Virtual Child Body Causes Overestimation of Object Sizes and Implicit Attitude Changes, 110 Proc. Nat’l Acad. Sci. 12846, 12849 (2013) (“[I]t is possible to generate a subjective illusion of ownership with respect to a virtual body that represents a child and a scaled-down adult of the same size when there is real-time synchronous movement between the real and virtual body.”); see also Tabitha C. Peck et al., Putting Yourself in the Skin of a Black Avatar Reduces Implicit Racial Bias, 22 Consciousness & Cognition 779, 786 (2013) (“IVR can be used to generate an illusion of body ownership through first person perspective of a virtual body that substitutes their own body. . . . [M]ultisensory feedback, such as visuomotor synchrony as used in our experiment, may heighten this illusion.”).

 [145]. See id. at 786 (finding that embodiment of light-skinned people in darker-skinned avatars can lead to comparative reductions in implicit racial bias).

 [146]. Ehrsson et al., supra note 132, at 9830.

 [147]. See Peck et al., supra note 144, at 786.

 [148]. While the following cases are taken from the Pennsylvania and Utah Supreme Courts respectively, the applicable rules of evidence are basically identical to the Federal Rules. See Pa. R. Evid. 403 cmt. (“Pa.R.E. 403 eliminates the word ‘substantially’ to conform the text of the rule more closely to Pennsylvania law.”); see also Pa. R. Evid. 901(a) cmt. (“Pa.R.E. 901(a) is identical to F.R.E. 901(a)”); Utah R. Evid. 901(a), 2011 advisory committee note (noting that the Utah rule is “the federal rule, verbatim.”); Utah R. Evid. 403, 2011 advisory committee note (same). For a general overview and survey of the treatment of computer animations at both the state and federal level, see generally Victoria Webster & Fred E. (Trey) Bourn III, The Use of Computer-Generated Animations and Simulations at Trial, 83 Def. Couns. J. 439 (2016).

 [149]. Commonwealth v. Serge, 896 A.2d 1170, 1176 (Pa. 2006).

 [150]. Id. at 1179–80.

 [151]. Id. at 1175.

 [152]. Id.

 [153]. Id. 1176.

 [154]. Id. at 1187. Notably, the animation was devoid of any “(1) sounds; (2) facial expressions; (3) evocative or even life-like movements; (4) transition between the scenes to suggest a story line or add a subconscious prejudicial effect; or (5) evidence of injury such as blood or other wounds.” Id. at 1183.

 [155]. Id. at 1187.

 [156]. State v. Perea, 322 P.3d 624, 635–36 (Utah 2013).

 [157]. Id. at 632.

 [158]. Id. at 635 (alterations in original).

 [159]. Id. at 635–637. Stating that

[t]he State objected and the district court refused to admit the animations, finding that “there [was] no foundation for the animation[s]” because Mr. Gaskill did not know “who created [them],” “the background of the people who created [them],” “how [they were] created,” or “what [the animators] relied upon in creating [them].”

Id.

 [160]. Id. at 637.

 [161]. David S. Santee, More than Words: Rethinking the Role of Modern Demonstrative Evidence, 52 Santa Clara L. Rev. 105, 135 (2012).

 [162]. See id. at 136.

 [163]. See id. at 136, 136 n.180, 140.

 [164]. In thinking about the effect of lighting, one cannot help but remember the first televised Nixon-Kennedy debate in which Richard Nixon refused makeup for the studio camera lighting, instead applying a cheap “coat of [drugstore] Lazy Shave to hide his five o’clock shadow.” Dan Gunderman, The Story of the First TV Presidential Debate Between Nixon and Kennedy—‘My God, They’ve Embalmed Him Before He Even Died’, N.Y. Daily News (Sept. 24, 2016, 4:25 AM), http://www.nydailynews.com/news
/politics/story-televised-debate-nixon-jfk-article-1.2803277. The interesting result being that most viewers who listened to the radio felt Nixon had prevailed, but those viewing the televised debate overwhelmingly found favor with Kennedy, who had subtly applied powder. See id.

 [165]. See supra Part III.

 [166]. See Webster & Bourn, supra note 148, at 441–42.

 [167]. John Selbak, Comment, Digital Litigation: The Prejudicial Effects of Computer-Generated Animation in the Courtroom, 9 High Tech. L.J. 337, 366 (1994).

 [168]. See Webster & Bourn, supra note 148, at 441–42.

 [169]. See State v. Perea, 322 P.3d 624, 635–36 (Utah 2013).

 [170]. As previously mentioned, federal courts are advised to rely on jury instructions to attempt to limit prejudice following the Advisory Committee Notes to Rule 403. Fed. R. Evid. 403, advisory committee’s notes to 1972 proposed rules. At the federal level, most jurisdictions rely on jury instructions which essentially include the following:

(1) an admonition that the jury is not to give the animation or simulation more weight just because it comes from a computer; (2) a statement clarifying that the exhibit is based on the supporting witness’s evaluation of the evidence; and, (3) in the case of an animation, a statement that the evidence is not meant to be an exact recreation of the event, but is, instead, a representation of the witness’s testimony.

Webster & Bourn, supra note 148, at 442.

 [171]. Bruton v. United States, 391 U.S. 123, 135 (1968) (“Unless we proceed on the basis that the jury will follow the court’s instructions where those instructions are clear and the circumstances are such that the jury can reasonably be expected to follow them, the jury system makes little sense.” (citation omitted)). But see Krulewitch v. United States, 336 U.S. 440, 453 (1949) (Jackson, J., concurring) (“The naive assumption that prejudicial effects can be overcome by instructions to the jury . . . all practicing lawyers know to be unmitigated fiction.”).

 [172]. Bruton, 391 U.S. at 135.

 [173]. Joel D. Lieberman & Jamie Arndt, Understanding the Limits of Limiting Instructions, 6 Psychol., Pub. Pol’y & L. 677, 686 (2000).

 [174]. See State v. Swinton, 847 A.2d 921, 945–46 (Conn. 2004).

 [175]. Id. at 937.

 [176]. Id. at 946.

 [177]. Id. at 938 (emphasis omitted).

 [178]. Id. at 942 (citation omitted).

 [179]. Id. at 942–43. These procedural factors included:

(1) the underlying information itself; (2) entering the information into the computer; (3) the computer hardware; (4) the computer software (the programs or instructions that tell the computer what to do); (5) the execution of the instructions, which transforms the information in some way—for example, by calculating numbers, sorting names, or storing information and retrieving it later; (6) the output (the information as produced by the computer in a useful form, such as a printout of tax return information, a transcript of a recorded conversation, or an animated graphics simulation); (7) the security system that is used to control access to the computer; and (8) user errors, which may arise at any stage.

Id. (citation omitted).

 [180]. See Fed. R. Evid. 702.

 [181]. Therefore, avoiding a situation like in Perea, where the witness cannot speak to the design of the accompanying computer-generated exhibit beyond asserting that it is a fair and accurate depiction of their testimony. See State v. Perea, 322 P.3d 624, 637 (Utah 2013).

 [182]. See Cummings & Bailenson, supra note 34, at 273.

 [183]. See Mel Slater & Anthony Steed, A Virtual Presence Counter, 9 Presence: Teleoperators & Virtual Environments 413, 426 (2000) (measuring the occurrence of user breaks in presence (“BIPs”) using an HMD); see also Sanchez-Vives et al., supra note 137, at 5; Kokkinara & Slater, supra note 142, at 56 finding that:

[T]he analysis of breaks suggest that asynchronous [visuotacticle] may be discounted when synchronous [visuomotor] cues are provided. . . . [W]e can predict a high or low estimated probability of the illusion solely from knowing which [visuomotor] group (synchronous or asynchronous) the person was in . . . asynchronous [visuotacticle] stimulation combined with asynchronous [visuomotor] stimulation is shown to be incompatible with the illusion.

Kokkinara & Slater, supra note 142, at 56.

 [184]. For a further explanation of BIPs, see generally Maria V. Sanchez-Vives & Mel Slater, From Presence to Consciousness Through Virtual Reality, 6 Nature Reviews Neuroscience 332 (2005).

 [185]. Take, for example, when a person is deeply engrossed in watching a movie:

Every so often . . . some real world event, or some event within the movie itself, will occur that will throw you out of this state of absorption and back to the real world of the theatre: someone nearby unwraps a sweet wrapper, someone coughs, some aspect of the storyline becomes especially ridiculous, and so on.

Slater & Steed, supra note 183, at 419.

 [186]. See Fed. R. Evid. 611(a), advisory committee’s notes to proposed rule (describing the broad powers of the judge to regulate demonstrative evidence).

 [187]. See, e.g., Sanchez-Vives et al., supra note 137, at 2.

 [188]. Id. at 3.

 [189]. See Ye Yuan & Anthony Steed, Is the Rubber Hand Illusion Induced by Immersive Virtual Reality?, in 2010 IEEE Virtual Reality Conference 95, 101 (2010) (“[T]he IVR arm ownership illusion appears to exist when the virtual arm roughly appears in shape and animation like the participant’s own arm, but not when there is a virtual arrow.”).

 [190]. See Mueller & Kirkpatrick, supra note 75.

 [191]. People v. McHugh, 476 N.Y.S.2d 721, 722 (Sup. Ct. 1984).

 

 

Strategic Law Avoidance Using the Internet: A Short History – Postscript (Response) by Tim Wu

From Volume 90, Number 3 (March 2017)
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We are now some twenty years into the story of the Internet’s bold challenge to law and the legal system. In the early 2000s, Jack Goldsmith and I wrote Who Controls the Internet, a book that might be understood as a chronicle of some the early and more outlandish stages of the story. Professors Pollman and Barry’s excellent article, Regulatory Entrepreneurship, adds to and updates that story with subsequent chapters and a sophisticated analysis of the strategies more recently employed to avoid law using the Internet in some way. While Pollman and Barry’s article stands on its own, I write this Article to connect these two periods. I also wish to offer a slightly different normative assessment of the legal avoidance efforts described here, along with my opinion as to how law enforcement should conduct itself in these situations.

Behind regulatory entrepreneurship lies a history, albeit a short one, and one that has much to teach us about the very nature of law and the legal system as it interacts with new technologies. Viewed in context, Pollman and Barry’s “regulatory entrepreneurs” can be understood as, in fact, a second generation of entrepreneurs who learned lessons from an earlier generation that was active in the late 1990s and early 2000s. What both generations have in common is the idea that the Internet might provide profitable opportunities at the edges of the legal system. What has changed is the abandonment of so-called “evasion” strategies—ones that relied on concealment or geography (described below)—and a migration to strategies depending on “avoidance,” that is, avoiding the law’s direct application. In particular, the most successful entrepreneurs have relied on what might be called a mimicry strategy: they shape potentially illegal or regulated conduct to make it look like legal or unregulated conduct, thereby hopefully avoiding the weight of laws and regulatory regimes.

I take a different, though not necessarily inconsistent, normative position than do Pollman and Barry. Law avoidance is a complex phenomenon. Some of it is undignified avoidance of burdens faced by others, and it is not much different, normatively, from securities fraud or tax evasion. But it is also true that, over the long history of the Anglo-American system, efforts to avoid the law have played an important, and sometimes essential, role in the process of legal evolution; that is, in the process of the salutary adaption of our legal system to our current normative and technological environment. Sometimes technologies may genuinely make laws obsolete or unnecessary. Sometimes it is changing social norms that prompt challenges to the law: the best of such efforts, like forms of legal disobedience during the civil rights era, have become understood as dignified and justified.

But laws do not challenge themselves: someone or something must prompt a reevaulation of an existing regime, which I think is the strongest normative case for some tolerance of regulatory entrepreneurship and other forms of law avoidance. That said, for such a reexamination to provoke a full debate, I think it essential that law enforcement play its part in the dialogue. Sometimes it should vigorously enforce “old laws,” unless the law in question is so obviously moribund that doing so would be ridiculous. Enforcement creates an adversarial process where we, the public, can reexamine whether the values and goals that motivated the law’s enactment remain important or valuable today. This is, of course, necessarily an imperfect process, but one that I think is part of the poorly understood path of legal evolution. The struggle surrounding the Internet’s challenge to law provides a good opportunity to consider these questions afresh.

 

 

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Torts v. Contracts: Can Microsoft Be Held Liable to Home Consumers for Its Security Flaws? – Note by Emily Kuwahara

From Volume 80, Number 5 (July 2007)
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In January 2003, the Slammer worm hit the Internet. Five of the Internet’s thirteen root-name servers shut down. Three hundred thousand cable modems in Portugal went offline, all of South Korea’s cell phone and Internet services went down, and Continental Airlines cancelled flights from its Newark hub due to its inability to process tickets. It took only six months after the disclosure of a security flaw for a virus writer to write the 376 byte virus. When it unleashed, it took ten minutes to infect ninety percent of vulnerable systems.

The flaw was a buffer overflow in the Microsoft SQL Server 2000 software. Because the code is embedded in other Microsoft products, not all users were even aware that their systems were running a version of SQL Server. Unfortunately, this was a well-known, preventable security flaw. Moreover, Microsoft had released a patch for the flaw exploited by Slammer six months before the attack. Despite the widespread effects, no flood of lawsuits ensued.


 

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