Latest news with #TheLegalAidSociety

4 days ago
- Politics
Andrew Cuomo swipes at Zohran Mamdani over a classic New York topic: rent
NEW YORK -- Andrew Cuomo is demanding that his opponent in New York City's mayoral race, Zohran Mamdani, vacate his rent stabilized apartment, while pushing a longshot proposal that would bar other middle-class renters from accessing much of the city's housing. 'I am calling on you to move out immediately,' Cuomo wrote in a widely-viewed social media post this weekend, casting Mamdani as 'a very rich person' occupying an apartment that could otherwise be used by a homeless family. The line of attack drew tens of millions of views online and revived a long-standing debate about who should have access to New York's highly sought-after rent stabilized units, which make up roughly 40% of the city's rental stock and are currently open to people of all incomes. It also illustrated the rhetorical lengths that Cuomo is willing to go to as he mounts an independent bid for mayor against Mamdani, a democratic socialist who defeated him handily in the Democratic primary on a platform that centered on affordability and freezing rent on stabilized units. Mamdani, who earns $143,000 annually as a state legislator, has said he pays $2,300 per month for a one-bedroom apartment in Queens that he shares with his wife — a living situation that Cuomo called 'disgusting.' By contrast, Cuomo, a multimillionaire who previously served as the state's governor, spends roughly $8,000 monthly on an apartment in Midtown Manhattan that he moved to last year from Westchester County, a wealthy suburb. In recent weeks, the 67-year-old Cuomo has adopted a more aggressive social media presence, earning both praise and mockery for his use of millennial internet-speak and repeated references to his opponent's 'privilege.' Mamdani's mother is a successful independent filmmaker and his father is a Columbia University professor. On Monday, Cuomo went a step further, releasing a formal proposal, which he dubbed 'Zohran's Law,' barring landlords from leasing vacant rent stabilized units to 'wealthy tenants,' defined as those who would pay less than 30% of their income toward the existing rent. The rent regulation program, which caps how much landlords can raise rent each year on roughly 1 million apartments, does not currently include any income restrictions — something opponents have long pushed to change. While the average rent stabilized household makes $60,000 annually, it is not uncommon for middle- or higher-income New Yorkers to live in the units, which sometimes rent for several thousand dollars per month. But Cuomo's idea drew swift skepticism from some housing experts, who noted the cap would, by definition, mean all new tenants of rent stabilized units would give up a substantial portion of their income. 'The idea that we should only have people living in apartments they can't afford seems to be setting people up for failure,' said Ellen Davidson, a housing attorney at The Legal Aid Society. 'It's not a proposal from somebody who knows anything about the housing market or New York City.' The Real Estate Board of New York, a landlord group whose members overwhelmingly backed Cuomo in the primary, did not respond to an inquiry about whether they supported the proposal. But in an email, the group's president, James Whelan, said that the 'benefits of rent regulation are not well targeted' and that some form of means testing should be considered. Under state law, hikes on rent-stabilized units are decided by an appointed board, rather than landlords. 'Rent stabilization has never been means tested because it's not an affordable housing program, it's a program about neighborhood stability,' said Davidson, the housing attorney, adding that the proposal would likely present a 'bureaucratic nightmare.' A spokesperson for Cuomo's campaign, Rich Azzopardi, said in a text message that 'the ultra wealthy and privileged should not be taking advantage of a program meant to aide working New Yorkers," adding that the income threshold standards would fall under the same system that governs the city's other programs for low-income housing. Mamdani's spokesperson, Dora Pekec, said the proposal proved that Cuomo was both desperate and out of touch. 'While Cuomo cares only for the well-being of his Republican donors, Zohran believes city government's job is to guarantee a life of dignity, not determine who is worth one,' she added.


Winnipeg Free Press
4 days ago
- Politics
- Winnipeg Free Press
Andrew Cuomo swipes at Zohran Mamdani over a classic New York topic: rent
NEW YORK (AP) — Andrew Cuomo is demanding that his opponent in New York City's mayoral race, Zohran Mamdani, vacate his rent stabilized apartment, while pushing a longshot proposal that would bar other middle-class renters from accessing much of the city's housing. 'I am calling on you to move out immediately,' Cuomo wrote in a widely-viewed social media post this weekend, casting Mamdani as 'a very rich person' occupying an apartment that could otherwise be used by a homeless family. The line of attack drew tens of millions of views online and revived a long-standing debate about who should have access to New York's highly sought-after rent stabilized units, which make up roughly 40% of the city's rental stock and are currently open to people of all incomes. It also illustrated the rhetorical lengths that Cuomo is willing to go to as he mounts an independent bid for mayor against Mamdani, a democratic socialist who defeated him handily in the Democratic primary on a platform that centered on affordability and freezing rent on stabilized units. Mamdani, who earns $143,000 annually as a state legislator, has said he pays $2,300 per month for a one-bedroom apartment in Queens that he shares with his wife — a living situation that Cuomo called 'disgusting.' By contrast, Cuomo, a multimillionaire who previously served as the state's governor, spends roughly $8,000 monthly on an apartment in Midtown Manhattan that he moved to last year from Westchester County, a wealthy suburb. In recent weeks, the 67-year-old Cuomo has adopted a more aggressive social media presence, earning both praise and mockery for his use of millennial internet-speak and repeated references to his opponent's 'privilege.' Mamdani's mother is a successful independent filmmaker and his father is a Columbia University professor. On Monday, Cuomo went a step further, releasing a formal proposal, which he dubbed 'Zohran's Law,' barring landlords from leasing vacant rent stabilized units to 'wealthy tenants,' defined as those who would pay less than 30% of their income toward the existing rent. The rent regulation program, which caps how much landlords can raise rent each year on roughly 1 million apartments, does not currently include any income restrictions — something opponents have long pushed to change. While the average rent stabilized household makes $60,000 annually, it is not uncommon for middle- or higher-income New Yorkers to live in the units, which sometimes rent for several thousand dollars per month. But Cuomo's idea drew swift skepticism from some housing experts, who noted the cap would, by definition, mean all new tenants of rent stabilized units would give up a substantial portion of their income. 'The idea that we should only have people living in apartments they can't afford seems to be setting people up for failure,' said Ellen Davidson, a housing attorney at The Legal Aid Society. 'It's not a proposal from somebody who knows anything about the housing market or New York City.' The Real Estate Board of New York, a landlord group whose members overwhelmingly backed Cuomo in the primary, did not respond to an inquiry about whether they supported the proposal. But in an email, the group's president, James Whelan, said that the 'benefits of rent regulation are not well targeted' and that some form of means testing should be considered. Under state law, hikes on rent-stabilized units are decided by an appointed board, rather than landlords. 'Rent stabilization has never been means tested because it's not an affordable housing program, it's a program about neighborhood stability,' said Davidson, the housing attorney, adding that the proposal would likely present a 'bureaucratic nightmare.' A spokesperson for Cuomo's campaign, Rich Azzopardi, said in a text message that 'the ultra wealthy and privileged should not be taking advantage of a program meant to aide working New Yorkers,' adding that the income threshold standards would fall under the same system that governs the city's other programs for low-income housing. Mamdani's spokesperson, Dora Pekec, said the proposal proved that Cuomo was both desperate and out of touch. 'While Cuomo cares only for the well-being of his Republican donors, Zohran believes city government's job is to guarantee a life of dignity, not determine who is worth one,' she added.

Miami Herald
11-07-2025
- General
- Miami Herald
When tenants have a right to counsel in eviction cases, but there aren't enough lawyers to help
When tenants have a right to counsel in eviction cases, but there aren't enough lawyers to help Icy snow crusted the sidewalks outside the Bronx housing courthouse on a Thursday in late January, a bitterly cold day in a string of bitterly cold days. Inside, spread out over three floors, dozens of people in puffy coats, some cradling babies or hunched over canes, waited to find out whether they would be kicked out of their homes or what it would take to stay housed. Every few minutes, a lawyer or court employee exited one of the courtrooms and shouted a name down the hall, searching for whoever was needed to proceed with an eviction hearing. Even more people were crowded inside the hearing rooms on each floor. Inside Room 550, around 11 a.m., a man in a black-and-white tracksuit and gold chain sat next to a woman in a sweatshirt and jeans who was wiping away tears. They faced a judge with long black twists and large, round glasses. No lawyer was with the couple, only the court's Spanish-language interpreter, in a blue suit and neat gray beard. Their landlord wasn't in the room, either; the landlord's attorney was there instead, texting and stepping into the hallway to talk to his client on the phone. The couple was trying to move back into the home they'd been evicted from, but the judge denied their request, informing them that they had to remove all their belongings within five days. "Good luck," the judge said at the end of the proceedings. The next defendant, a Black woman dressed all in black, had accumulated $27,849 in outstanding rent; she was given until the end of February to pay it off, plus the next month's rent. If she paid up, then the case would end, the judge told her. But if not, the landlord would have the right to seek an eviction warrant. Because she had no lawyer to help her parse the proposed deal, the judge had to stand in to make sure she could legally agree to it. Did she understand that she was waiving her right to a trial? Yes. Was she coerced into entering into the agreement? No. "Good luck, ma'am," the judge told her. "Thank you," she said softly as she left. For a brief time in the depths of the pandemic, the hallways and courtrooms of this courthouse had sat empty; eviction moratoria kept most cases from moving forward, and any that did proceed happened online only. But those measures are now long gone, and courts across the city have filled back up. "Housing court is like what it was before," said Munonyedi Clifford, attorney-in-charge of the citywide housing practice at The Legal Aid Society. Yet one key thing has changed: All of these tenants are, by law, supposed to have legal representation at their side. As the late January proceedings in Room 550 would prove, however, that right on paper has not prevented thousands of people from facing eviction all by themselves. Economic Hardship Reporting Project and The Baffler examined the high number of eviction cases in New York City, in which most tenants have no legal help despite residents' right to counsel. Other jurisdictions that have passed similar laws should pay attention to New York's current predicament. The unrepresented This isn't supposed to happen in New York City. In 2017, it became the first place in the country to enact a right to counsel in eviction cases, a guarantee of legal help for tenants navigating the process. In much of the rest of the country, just 4% of tenants have lawyers at their sides in eviction cases, compared to 83% of landlords. This creates a "huge imbalance," according to Peter Hepburn, associate director at The Eviction Lab, a research project at Princeton University, "not just in terms of power but just of procedural knowledge." Landlords find themselves in eviction proceedings frequently, and their attorneys deal with it daily. "The system works very well for them," Hepburn said. For tenants, eviction yanks them into an unfamiliar and often confusing world of legal maneuvering. "It doesn't work so well for them." New York City's landmark Universal Access to Legal Services law-codifying the right to counsel-was designed to fix this imbalance for households earning up to 200% of the poverty line, or $64,300 for a family of four. It started in just three zip codes per borough and was supposed to expand gradually, with five new zip codes added each year for five years, until the entire city would be covered. Before the pandemic began, right to counsel applied to only 25 of the city's 180 zip codes. The program quickly proved successful. Research published in a June 2023 issue of the Journal of Public Economics found that tenants who got legal representation through the program faced smaller monetary judgments and were less likely to be evicted. For tenants lucky enough to have representation in court in 2023, 84% percent were able to stay in their homes. The program has also reduced the number of eviction filings in the first place. "There's no question that the right to counsel works," Clifford said. After COVID-19 hit, the city's program was abruptly opened to all low-income tenants in early 2021 in an effort to keep people housed and healthy. At the time, caseloads were low, thanks to eviction moratoria, and in early 2022, close to 70% of tenants facing eviction were represented by an attorney. But after the CDC's nationwide moratorium was struck down in August 2021, and New York City's version ended a few months later, the floodgates were flung wide open. Stalled eviction cases started to move forward just as landlords filed a flurry of new ones: Eviction filings jumped 83% between 2022 and 2023. "It's back to business as usual," Clifford said. As a result, things quickly deteriorated. The percentage of tenants represented by an attorney declined steadily after January 2022. According to a paper written in 2023 by 11 legal services organizations, the right-to-counsel program has been plagued by "client eligibility outstripping provider capacity, funding shortfalls, and staff attrition, while tenant needs continue to rise." There were 111,830 eviction filings across the city last year, compared to just 42,203 in 2021. The Bronx is consistently the hardest hit, experiencing an eviction rate double that of the other four boroughs. And the majority of those Bronx tenants go it alone. In the fourth quarter of fiscal year 2024, only 42% of people facing eviction in New York City received full legal representation, while about half had no legal help at all; in the Bronx, less than a third were fully represented, while about 60% went through eviction proceedings by themselves. When a New York City tenant receives an eviction notice, they must reply to avoid automatic eviction. Their response triggers an "intake part," or IP, date. That's where, if they're lucky, they'll be assigned a legal aid lawyer who can help them. But there are 80 households at each IP date, which are held over Microsoft Teams for cases in the Bronx, and legal aid lawyers "just don't have the capacity" to cover all of them, said Jennie Stephens-Romero, deputy director of the housing unit at Bronx Legal Services. Her organization and the five others that offer free legal help to tenants facing eviction in the Bronx use a calendar system to make sure that one of them covers at least some of each weekday's IP date. Stephens-Romero's team was "very big," but they could only cover part of their assigned day; for a while they were able to cover either the morning or the afternoon, but after staff departures, they can only take on the first 20 tenants on their given day. Other organizations, she imagines, can take on even less. "It's really luck of the draw," she said, as to whether a tenant's IP date corresponds with the part of the day when attorneys are able to tune in and help. Everyone else is left to fend for themselves. It's "incredibly rare," Stephens-Romero said, for a tenant facing eviction to be able to afford their own lawyer without the help of a legal aid attorney. Last year, 11,587 tenants without representation called The Legal Aid Society's hotline (some may not be eligible for the right to counsel, and others may get a lawyer later in the process). Stephens-Romero said it's unusual for her to come to housing court and not be approached by somebody asking how to get a lawyer. Post-pandemic flood There doesn't seem to have been any planning for what would happen when the housing court system returned to its pre-pandemic state. Right-to-counsel lawyers in the city quickly realized that they couldn't handle all of the cases for eligible tenants; they didn't have adequate funding to meet the demand. So they, along with elected officials, asked housing judges to issue adjournments and postpone cases for tenants who weren't yet represented to give them time to get an attorney. The courts refused. "Courts are totally aware legal service providers can't handle all these cases," Stephens-Romero said. Indeed, as Community Service Society of New York policy analysts Oksana Mironova and Yvonne Peña write, courts are "choosing to move cases faster than the legal services providers can take them on, prioritizing speed over the tenants' right to due process." These priorities are precisely backward, Stephens-Romero said. "We're pushing tenants' rights to the side to clear the docket." Meanwhile, New York City's right-to-counsel program has only expanded further. In 2023, eligibility was extended to anyone of any income age 60 or older facing eviction. Legal service providers calculated that they needed $16 million a year to be able to handle those new cases-an alarming number, as the program wasn't fully funded even before that expansion. In 2023, legal aid providers told the city that it would take at least an additional $351 million to adequately serve the tenants they were already taking on plus all of the qualified tenants who were estimated to go through the process solo in 2024. Yet legal services providers in the city were granted only an additional $36.6 million for this work last year, and even then, the Eric Adams administration failed to pay out the money on time, forcing some organizations to contemplate cutting the help they offer. This is despite the fact that an analysis found in 2016 that the city would actually save $320 million a year in foregone shelter and housing costs by providing tenants with attorneys in eviction cases. "We want the right to counsel to really have the true meaning of what the tenant movement and folks who fought for this right really wanted, which is that everybody will get it," Clifford said. "But the city doesn't seem to be putting resources toward that kind of idea." More funding could also ease the staffing problems plaguing legal services organizations. Of the $351 million that these organizations have asked for, $226 million would go toward hiring more than 880 staff attorneys, a badly needed influx. Public interest lawyers face crushing workloads on salaries far lower than what they could command at private practices. In 2023, legal aid organizations reported attrition rates ranging from 20 to 55%; one provider lost six of 13 new hires within a year. "This is a tough job," Stephens-Romero said. If caseloads could be brought down and salaries increased, more people might stick around. The state court system released a report in 2023 recommending that attorney caseloads be limited to 48 a year. That represents an improvement from what caseloads used to be; Clifford said lawyers were routinely taking on more than 60 a year. But it's still a high number, according to Stephens-Romero, especially when some can be lengthy. Housing laws "are pretty complicated and complex, and each housing case requires a tremendous amount of work," Clifford said. Legal service lawyers wouldn't have to work so hard, however, if there weren't so many eviction cases inundating the system to begin with. As much success as the right-to-counsel program has shown for the tenants it's able to reach, New Yorkers would be much better off if they could simply stay housed in the first place. Yet New York City has long struggled to build and provide affordable housing, and the housing crunch is now the worst it's been in 50 years. "So many people wouldn't be ending up in housing court if apartments were eminently affordable," Clifford said. The city could also offer more help covering rent. Vouchers, which help low-income tenants afford apartments on the private market, are notoriously hard to use: The eligibility limits are stringent, and although it's illegal for landlords to refuse to rent to voucher holders, many do in practice. But the city has struggled to make improvements. In 2023, the city council overrode Mayor Eric Adams' veto to expand eligibility for some voucher programs, but Adams refused to implement the expansion, claiming it was too costly. After the city council sued over his refusal, a judge sided with Adams last summer. Other attempts to protect tenants might prove more successful. New York State approved good cause legislation for the city in 2024, which, for covered buildings, caps rent increases and bans landlords from evicting tenants except for things like nonpayment of rent or illegal behavior. But the law has a number of carveouts, including for buildings constructed after 2009, luxury units, rentals in condos and co-ops, and those owned by landlords with small portfolios. The hope, Clifford said, is that the law will eventually push the number of eviction filings down. "It's not everything that we wanted," Stephens-Romero said. But "it's definitely something we can use." Going national The early success of New York City's right-to-counsel program inspired other lawmakers around the country. "It basically made right to counsel seem achievable for lots of places," said John Pollock, coordinator at the National Coalition for a Civil Right to Counsel. In the three years after New York City enacted its program, four other jurisdictions-Cleveland, Philadelphia, Newark, and San Francisco-passed their own. Then the pandemic, which exposed not just the way job loss deprives people of the income to pay rent but also the impact of housing on people's health, lit a spark. Since the start of 2020, 14 cities, two counties, and five states have passed programs. Three states and six cities added their programs in 2021 alone. That frenzy has calmed down, but "we're still seeing the momentum rolling forward," Pollock said. These jurisdictions, and any others that join in, will have to heed the lessons of New York. Funding is one of the biggest question marks for other right-to-counsel programs, too. Many were set up with pandemic-era federal aid, money that has all been disbursed. When Hepburn and his colleagues at the Eviction Lab recently interviewed people working on implementing all the right-to-counsel programs across the country, "underfunding was something that came up throughout," he said. Still, Pollock hasn't seen any jurisdiction renege on its right-to-counsel program even as federal funding has dried up, and many are turning to their own sources to keep it going. In Hepburn's research, he and his colleagues found that thirteen programs are supported by state and local funding, including four that have their own revenue streams from things like taxes on landlords or developers. But even if programs were flush with cash, there is still a shortage of lawyers interested in and willing to do this work. "This is a sector-wide problem," Pollock said. Fixing it, as in New York, will take not just enough funding to make salaries competitive and workloads bearable but also a steady pipeline of new lawyers ready to go into housing law, which some law schools don't even cover. Then there are the court systems themselves, which have appeared to resist slowing things down to make sure tenants get the legal representation that they're due. "That approach of continuing cases when lawyers are not available, making tenants go through when unrepresented, that's a huge part of the problem," Pollock said. Courts tend to favor the interests of landlords. But in Washington State, judges are required to delay a case if a tenant who is eligible for the right to counsel appears solo. "Courts could take a different approach. They're choosing not to," Pollock said. He pointed out that, at less than 8 years old, the movement for the right to counsel in eviction proceedings is a relatively new one. "As with any movement, you expect there are going to be challenges," he said. But if New York wants to retain its status as a leader, it will have to pave a path toward finding the resources and the political willpower to make a groundbreaking right mean something real for everyone to whom it's owed. Pay up None of the half dozen Bronx tenants who were called before the judge in Room 550 over the course of an hour on that morning in late January had a lawyer helping them make sense of the process. A woman with the court's Spanish interpreter and no one else by her side was told she had to pay $3,554 by the end of February to avoid an eviction warrant. A white-haired man, also accompanied only by the translator, had accrued $2,221 in outstanding rent; the eviction warrant against him would be put on hold, the judge said, if he paid his February and March rents on time. "Good luck sir," she told him. Another woman, her dark hair tied up in a bun, sat next to her landlord's attorney. She owed $24,660 in outstanding rent. She was told, with the help of the interpreter but no lawyer, that her warrant would also be put on hold if she paid by the end of February. Last was a man who had accumulated $5,395 in outstanding rent; he had nine days to pay $3,200, plus the following months' rent, in order to stave off his eviction warrant. He, too, faced the judge alone. These judgments represent staggering amounts of money for most low-income renters. Many of Stephens-Romero's clients are "in really dire straits," she said. A large number have physical and mental limitations that prevent them from working, while others struggle to find jobs, or at least ones that offer enough hours and pay to make rent. If the tenants in Room 550 had had a lawyer on their side, they would likely have pushed back against the judge and managed to lower the amounts that their clients had to pay, or at least bought them more time. None of the tenants had the capacity to argue on their own behalf. Instead, they all accepted the sums that were handed down, whether they could afford them or not. Right to counsel "is a law," Stephens-Romero said, "and we aren't meeting it." Co-published by Economic Hardship Reporting Project and The Baffler. This story was produced by Economic Hardship Reporting Project and The Baffler, and reviewed and distributed by Stacker. © Stacker Media, LLC.


New York Times
09-04-2025
- Business
- New York Times
Top Pro Bono Leader Resigns from Paul Weiss, a Firm Hit in Trump's Crackdown on Big Law
A leader of the pro bono practice at Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison is resigning from the law firm, within weeks of the elite firm striking a deal with President Trump to lift an executive order that had threatened its ability to represent clients with business before the federal government. Steven Banks, a former New York City social services commissioner who was special counsel at the New York-based law firm for the past three years, said in a statement that he was leaving to return to his roots and would resume working for the rights of the homeless by providing legal services to the Coalition for the Homeless and The Legal Aid Society. 'This has been weighing on me since the November election,' said Mr. Banks in the statement. 'At this historical moment, I know that I belong back on the front lines fighting for the things that I have believed in since I first walked in the door of The Legal Aid Society as a staff attorney in 1981.' While Mr. Banks, 68, did not mention the settlement with the White House, his departure comes as Paul Weiss has faced a barrage of criticism for not fighting Mr. Trump and his broader attacks on the legal system. Mr. Banks, reached by phone, said he would let the statement speak for itself. Laura Van Drie, a Paul Weiss spokeswoman, said, 'We thank Steve for his leadership and many contributions over the past three years.' She added, 'We remain committed to providing impactful pro bono legal assistance to individuals and organizations in need.'
Yahoo
01-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Progressive groups squeeze NY lawmakers over discovery law, involuntary commitments — holding up state budget
It's no April Fools. Progressive groups including The Legal Aid Society are putting the squeeze on New York lawmakers to reject Gov. Kathy Hochul's proposals on involuntary commitment and discovery reform – and helping hold the state budget past its April 1 deadline. The budget impasse comes after lefty groups such as the largely taxpayer-funded nonprofit, mounted a pressure campaign involving well-paid backroom lobbying in Albany and even a high-profile think piece from author John Grisham. Representatives for the Legal Aid Society blamed Hochul for the expected delay and applauded lawmakers in the state Assembly and Senate for 'holding the line.' 'Rolling back discovery reforms should not, and must not, be the reason New York State's budget does not get passed promptly,' a statement from Legal Aid states. 'Governor Hochul's insistence on exploiting the budget process to push through policies, including repealing New York's modernized and widely successful discovery statute, is misguided and delays the critical fiscal policies New Yorkers need — especially now, as Albany faces the loss of federal support.' State Sen. George Borrello (R-Chautauqua) argued that Legal Aid has a conflict of interest in its opposition to the discovery laws, which were passed in 2019 and require prosecutors to turn over evidence to defendants within 20 or 35 days after arraignment. 'We have district attorneys' offices that are starved, underfunded, understaffed. But we're going to make the Legal Aid Society's job easier with the discovery law,' he lamented. The Legal Aid Society bills itself as the largest, most influential social justice law firm in New York City — and it helps 2 million city residents every year through its defense services, litigation and advocacy, according to its annual report. The organization has received $290 million from the state to represent indigent New Yorkers since 2012, records show. Legal Aid lists a few dozen of its attorneys as lobbyists for the organization, as well as paying CMW Strategies another $5,000 a month, according to a lobbying filing from this year. Contracts also show Legal Aid helps represent domestic violence victims — a group that prosecutors argued have suffered under the discovery laws, as convictions statewide on that crime fell from 31% to 6% since their passage, officials said. New York City's five district attorneys support Hochul's plan to tweak the laws to reduce the scope of evidence that prosecutors have to hand over to defense, limiting it to only what's 'relevant' to the charges. A grab bag of progressive and criminal justice groups — including Legal Aid, the NAACP and the Innocence Project — that have coalesced into the Alliance To Protect Kalief's Law argue that 'relevant' language gives prosecutors too much power. 'Passage of Hochul's proposal would be an affront to due process as it will risk that more evidence will be withheld, resulting in the likelihood that more innocent people will be unjustly convicted because a prosecutor — focused on proving their case — decided it was not necessary to disclose such information,' Grisham, who is a board member at the Innocence Project, wrote in a New York Daily News op-ed. Twyla Carter, Legal Aid's CEO, wrote in a post on X last month: 'We cannot allow @GovKathyHochul to roll back vital discovery laws that prevent NYers from languishing in jail without evidence. We should demand more from our legal system, not less.' Assemblyman Harvey Epstein (D-Manhattan) said opponents to Hochul's discovery plan, like himself, are waiting on her to make a counterproposal on the topic before they budget. 'We're only late because we don't have the language,' he said. 'I don't think we're going to disagree a lot on the money, so if she wants to move something, she's got to tell us what she wants to say, so it's really up to her.' The progressive groups have also pressured lawmakers to oppose Hochul's plan to expand involuntary commitment laws. Hochul has argued Albany needs to deal with violent mentally ill people, especially in the subway. Many lawmakers have argued that the state should make it easier to send people suffering from psychiatric issues who are a danger to themselves or others — like Michael Medlock, who battled mental illness for years before he shoved a straphanger onto the tracks in 2020 — into treatment against their will. But two high-profile groups — the Mental Health Association in New York State and The Alliance For Rights and Recovery — have opposed Hochul's proposals as unnecessary, given existing laws. The Alliance has tapped Brown and Weinraub, one of the more powerful lobbying firms in Albany, to help fight Hochul's involuntary commitment proposal, records show. They will pay the firm $4,000 a month through the end of the year, per lobbying filings – on top of the $2,000 a month they pay for another lobbyist, Kevin Cleary, and roughly $5,000 they spend on in-house lobbying monthly. The group also issued an 'action' alert Monday to everyday New Yorkers, urging them to email and call Hochul and lawmakers in opposition to involuntary commitment. 'These proposals will traumatize more New Yorkers, especially those struggling with homelessness and mental illness, by extending policies that deploy police to make what are termed 'mental hygiene arrests' and initiate involuntary treatment,' the alert states. 'Involuntary hospitalizations are not the most appropriate way to provide the food, shelter, or long-term support people need and deserve.' Glenn Liebman, CEO for the Mental Health Association in New York State, said his group is instead pushing for more funding to help expand and provide better benefits for existing mental healthcare resources. He's also pitching incident review panels as a way to help identify and patch holes in the continuum of care for mentally ill people. 'What will impact these services is a 7.8% budget enhancement for mental health and an accountable critical incident review process,' Liebman said. Hochul's budget director Blake Washington said Monday the governor is willing to hold up the budget 'as long as it takes' to get her proposals on discovery and involuntary commitment passed in the face of stiff opposition. 'Her principles out of this budget are steadfast and there are things that she just can't compromise on,' Washington said. 'We'll take as long as it takes to deliver.' Existing state laws — as well as rights to due process and fairness — must be followed, said Justin Harrison, senior policy counsel at the New York Civil Liberties Union. 'The governor's proposals are driven by fearmongering and would send us back to an era of widespread wrongful convictions and forced hospitalizations,' he said.'Locking more vulnerable New Yorkers away because they are experiencing mental health crisis or simply because the government is hiding the ball in court doesn't advance public safety. We are gratified that our lawmakers have rejected the changes so far, and we will continue to raise awareness on their harms and urge our state officials to invest in solutions that work.'