We can’t claim to value justice while starving public defense 

by Mano Raju, the elected Public Defender of San Francisco 

When I first interviewed to be an attorney at the San Francisco Public Defender’s Office 18 years ago, I met a legal clerk at the front desk who welcomed everyone with warmth. He told me what kind of attorney the late Public Defender Jeff Adachi was looking for — fighters. People who would stand up for those who had no one else. At the time, I thought he was simply describing the job. Only later did I understand the deeper weight behind his words. 

His name was John Tennison. John was the steady, smiling presence who greeted people at their most vulnerable moments. He managed their frustration and fear with a rare blend of compassion and skill, serving as a bridge between the public and an office working nonstop for its clients. 

I learned why he understood the stakes so well. 

John spent 14 years in prison for a murder he did not commit. He had been framed by the San Francisco Police Department and wrongfully prosecuted by the San Francisco District Attorney’s Office. A key witness was coached to lie under oath. A confession by another man was withheld from the defense. This misconduct sent an innocent man to prison for more than a decade. When John’s conviction was finally overturned, the city paid him a large settlement — money that can never restore the years he lost, or the years his loved ones lost with him. 

For public defenders, stories like John’s are not distant tragedies. They are a window into the daily, lived consequences of a criminal legal system stretched beyond recognition. 

Across the country, thousands of people sit in jails and prisons for crimes they did not commit or for conduct that would never be charged if they were in a different socio-economic bracket. Some were wrongfully convicted by juries. Many more pled guilty because they understandably feared the system would fail them. Others pled because their defense counsel was overwhelmed, or because even with excellent representation, their attorney’s staggering caseloads and years-long trial delays put justice out of reach. 

When I was a line attorney, I saw this firsthand. I regularly had to tell clients that although I would work on their case, I already had trials lined up months or years ahead. Their trial — one I was confident could result in an acquittal — would have to wait behind dozens of others. That is the reality of public defense in America: people sit in jail for years while waiting for their turn. 

It is wrong. It is unfair. And the human costs are real. 

These injustices also leave deep marks on the people who fight against them. Public defenders and the staff who work alongside them — investigators, paralegals, social workers, clerical teams — work long hours, absorb daily trauma, and hold the emotional weight of navigating a broken system. 

Despite this reality, public defense remains one of the most underfunded essential services in American government. Public defenders carry caseloads far greater than the level recommended by national standards. And law enforcement and prosecutors rarely face accountability when their misconduct sends innocent people to prison. 

We should not accept a system in which the quality or timeliness of justice depends on the limited resources of a public defense office. We should not accept a system where people plead guilty because they are poor or because they are BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, People of Color), or because they cannot afford to wait years for a constitutionally guaranteed trial. 

With the 2023 publication of the National Public Defense Workload Study — conducted by the Rand Corp. and the American Bar Association — America’s public defenders finally have a rigorous analysis of our crushing workloads and recommendations for what they should be. The study affirms that if we are serious about justice, then we must be serious about funding and reforming public defense. That requires more than acknowledging the crisis — it requires action. 

Being serious about justice means investing the millions that would otherwise be paid out in wrongful-conviction settlements into the staffing and infrastructure that can prevent those tragedies on the front end. It means implementing reasonable caseload limits so every client receives meaningful representation. It means investing in investigators, social workers, paralegals and clerical staff whose work is essential to uncovering the truth. And it means holding law enforcement and prosecutors accountable when misconduct deprives people of their freedom. 

Public defenders are fighting for fairness every single day. We are fighting for people like John, and for countless others whose names will never make headlines but whose lives hang in the balance. We fight because justice should not depend on wealth, power or political pressure — but on fairness. 

We should all be demanding a justice system that is fair and equitable, where trials happen when they should, and where innocence and humanity is protected rather than punished. 

A justice system worthy of the name is possible, but only if we build it together.

About Mano Raju

Mano Raju has served as the elected San Francisco Public Defender since 2019, bringing over 20 years of experience as a public defender. He worked for seven years in Contra Costa County before his predecessor, Jeff Adachi, recruited him to join the San Francisco office, where he went on to serve as the Director of Training and Felony Unit Manager. Raju is committed to a client- and community-centered approach and has lectured widely on trial defense practices, such as race-conscious representation and defending gang and homicide cases. 

As California’s only elected public defender, Mano leads an office committed to protecting rights and advancing systemic reform. Under his leadership, the office has honored longstanding programs, such as the MAGIC initiative that supports youth and families in the Bayview and the Fillmore; and has innovated new programs, such as the College Pathway Project to connect clients to educational and professional opportunities. In 2021, he received the James Madison Freedom of Information Award for the CopMonitor database that promotes transparency about officer misconduct. 

As a son of Indian immigrants, Raju’s pursuit of justice is rooted in his awareness of the ramifications of social inequalities. Never forgetting his family’s humble roots, he earned his undergraduate degree at Columbia University, a Master’s degree in South Asian Studies from U.C. Berkeley, and his law degree from U.C. Berkeley School of Law. He currently serves on the board of the National Association for Public Defense. 

The post We can’t claim to value justice while starving public defense  appeared first on San Francisco Bay View.

Source: https://sfbayview.com/2026/02/we-cant-claim-to-value-justice-while-starving-public-defense/