Page 115 of The Proving Ground
“I published a paper last year about misogyny, and it made mention of the incel subculture.”
“Then can you tell the jury what an incel is?”
Mitchell Mason objected again but this time was overruled. I had found my way in.
“You can answer the question, Professor,” I said.
“Incelis a term associated with men who espouse hostility toward women,” he said. “Incelis short for ‘involuntary celibate.’ It is primarily an online subculture. These are mostly young men who have been unable to attract women sexually, and they blame it on women.”
“So, when you tracked the wordherospelled with a capitalEandRto various incel glossaries, did you find an explanation as to why it was spelled or formatted that way?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And what was that explanation?”
“I learned that it is a reference to the initials of Elliot Rodger, a man who killed several people near Santa Barbara ten years ago in what he called an act of retribution against women who had rejectedhim. In the incel culture, he is considered a hero. A saint, even. Thus they spell the wordherowith a capitalEandR.”
It was another moment when the quiet courtroom seemed to get quieter. I let it sink in for a few seconds before pressing on.
“Now, going back to the text chain between Wren and Aaron Colton,” I said. “The wordherois spelled that way twice. Your testimony is that this could not be a coincidence?”
“I suppose it could be, but the more likely explanation is that it was spelled that way in the original data used in the training program. In other words, it was in the code and not something the chatbot styled on its own. It retrieved the word in that format.”
Mitchell Mason objected again on grounds that there was no evidence supporting the witness’s statement and that it called for speculation. Ruhlin sustained the objection and instructed the jury to ignore Spindler’s last answer. But the damage to the Masons’ case was done. Spindler’s theme of garbage in, garbage out was a message that would stick. I felt confident of that.
“No further questions,” I said.
41
THE DEFENSE DIDnot proceed with a cross-examination of Michael Spindler but reserved the right to call him back to the witness stand during the defense phase of the trial. This surprised me, because I thought that Spindler’s direct testimony had been damaging enough to warrant an immediate response. But maybe they needed more time to figure out how to come at him and knock down his credibility. Either way, the court session ended early when I told Judge Ruhlin that I had been surprised by the defense’s move and that my next witness, Nathan Whittaker, was not in the courthouse.
“Mr. Haller, I expect in the future that you will have your next witness ready no matter what decisions opposing counsel make,” she said. “Am I clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I said.
“Very well, then, court is recessed until nine o’clock tomorrow morning. Please have your witness ready to go.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
I didn’t mind being chastised by the judge in front of the jury. Ihad a feeling they were happy to be released early. It had been a day of complex testimony, and a head start on the freeways out of downtown would be welcome.
It had been a good day. I felt the momentum of the case was building and would come to a big finish for the jury with the testimony from Whittaker. But after the jury withdrew, the judge called the attorneys to chambers, and I was reminded that my good day also included my being held in contempt of court.
In chambers, the judge told us not to bother taking our usual seats.
“This will be quick,” she said. “But I did not feel the need to discuss it in open court. Mr. Haller, I will hold the order of contempt in abeyance until the end of trial. I hope this will help you comport yourself and your witnesses in accordance with court protocol and respect.”
This meant that she would hold my punishment over my head till the verdict came in, with me knowing that she would multiply the penalty if I stepped out of line along the way.
“Your Honor, I would rather face the music now,” I said, “instead of having it hanging over me.”
“Well, that’s not how I’ve chosen to handle it. Any other questions?”
“Uh, no.”
“All right. You gentlemen are dismissed until nine o’clock tomorrow. Have a good evening.”
An hour later I got home to an empty house and immediately went to the back office to sketch out my examination of Whittaker, which I hoped would clinch the case. I was aware as I wrote questions on a fresh legal pad that the Mason brothers were probably meeting with the Tidalwaiv coder at the same time and prepping him for some of the very same questions. But I hoped that theyultimately didn’t know what I knew, thanks to the digging of Jack McEvoy.
