I’m Kayla. I work cases. I read cases. And I use them like tools. Simmons v. United States (see the full opinion here) is one I reach for a lot. Not just in class talk. In real court time, with real people on the line.
If you’re after the long-form, fully cited version of this story, you can dive into my honest take on Simmons v. United States.
You know what? It’s not flashy. But it’s steady.
Quick recap (real short)
- Year: 1968.
- Case type: Bank robbery.
- Big issues: Photo lineups and a hard choice between two rights.
The Court did two key things:
- It said this about photo IDs: if police show photos in a way that’s so suggestive it risks a bad ID, that ID can’t stand.
- It also said this: if a person testifies at a hearing to fight a search (like saying, “yes, that suitcase is mine”), that testimony can’t be used later to prove guilt at trial.
So, no forced trap between the Fourth and the Fifth. That’s the heart.
Where it helped me
1) The jacket case that could’ve sunk my client
Last spring, in a Cook County gun case, my client had to challenge a jacket search. To have standing, he needed to say the jacket was his. Risky, right? If he said it was his, the state could try to use that against him.
I brought Simmons. I said, look, he can say “that jacket is mine” at the hearing, and the state can’t use that line at trial. The judge agreed. The state tried to hint around it later, but the court cut them off. We kept the focus on the search, not a forced confession. That protection felt fair. It felt human.
Did we win the whole case? Not that day. But we didn’t lose it on a technical trap. That matters.
2) The corner store photo spread
Different case. South Side robbery. The clerk saw the person for maybe five seconds. Officers later showed the clerk a stack of photos on an iPad. But here’s the rub: my client’s photo popped up bigger, and twice. That’s not neutral.
I used Simmons to challenge the photo ID. I brought notes on lighting, time, stress, and the suggestive display. The judge called the first ID too shaky and kept it out. The witness still tried an in-court ID, but we got a strong jury instruction about the earlier mistake. We ended up with a hung jury. Not perfect, but it kept a bad ID from carrying the whole case. Keeping prejudicial details away from jurors took some delicate stipulating—echoing the balancing act the Court blessed in Old Chief v. United States.
What I like
- It fixes that awful “rock or hard place” choice.
- Judges know it. They respect it.
- It gives clear ground to fight a messy photo spread.
- It keeps the focus on fairness, not games.
- It insists on culpability matching conduct—the same instinct that drove Morissette v. United States way back when.
What bugs me (a little)
- The bar for bad photo IDs is high. Too high sometimes. Many judges still let shaky IDs through if the witness sounds sure. But people can sound sure and still be wrong.
- Tech changed. Phones, iPads, social feeds. Photo spreads can get weird fast. Simmons still works, but the test can feel dated if no one asks the right questions.
- The language around “very likely” mis-ID gets fuzzy in practice. And fuzzy can cut both ways.
Digital evidence isn’t just about mugshot arrays. From Snapchat screenshots to unexpected texts, the flow of mobile imagery keeps widening. If you want a quick snapshot of just how common intimate messaging has become and the statistics behind it, this visual rundown of sexting numbers lays out easy-to-read data that can sharpen your grasp of the modern phone-based evidence landscape. Similarly, many undercover stings now begin on adult-classified sites; for a real-world example of how such listings appear, take a minute to browse Backpage Boynton Beach, where the live category set-up and posting style can help you visualize the context jurors will need to understand.
How I make it work in real life
- I write out the photo steps: who showed what, where, how long, and on what device.
- I ask: Did the officer say anything like “we think it’s this one”? That hint can be huge.
- I pull camera data (if any): lighting, distance, stress, time.
- I bring a plain-English chart for the judge. Nothing fancy. Just clear.
- I cite Simmons, then I tell the story. Judges listen when the story makes sense.
Small thing: I also warn clients. “Your hearing words won’t be used at trial. But stick to the point. Don’t wander.” It helps.
Who should care
- Public defenders and private defense.
- Student attorneys in clinic.
- Investigators who handle IDs and report details.
- Families trying to understand what’s fair and what’s not.
If you’re learning this stuff, this case is a keeper. I used it as a 2L. I still use it now.
If you want a deeper dive into how split-second identification decisions collide with constitutional limits, check out my quick field guide at neckdeepbook.com.
A tiny digression that still matters
Eyewitness memory is funny. My grandma used to say her memory was “sharp as a tack.” Then she’d mix up two cousins. Folks can mean well and still get it wrong. Stress, speed, and hints all twist memory. Simmons doesn’t fix memory. But it gives us a guardrail. Research on the overall reliability of eyewitness identification backs this up (see this NCJRS summary).
Final take
Simmons v. United States is not new, but it’s still strong. It protects people from a nasty choice. It checks suggestive photo work. It gives me a path to argue fairness without drama.
Would I recommend it as a go-to tool? Yes.
Would I rely on it alone? No. Pair it with solid facts, good cross, and clean visuals.
Score from my bag of tools: 4.5 out of 5.
I wish courts used the photo rule a bit tighter. But when you need it, it shows up.
P.S. This is my experience, not legal advice. If you’re in a case, talk to your lawyer. And bring notes. Always bring notes.