When ordinary people go before a judge in Philadelphia to be sentenced for their crimes, they typically get stern looks, hear condescending, pious remarks about how wrong their actions were, and often receive a sentence that sends them to jail to think about their terrible misdeeds. God forbid that you or I should get caught stealing two pairs of pantyhose, buying a tiny amount of a controlled substance, or punching someone who had hit them first. I've personally seen and heard jail sentences handed down for each of those awful crimes.
When former Traffic Court Judge Fotunato Perri, Sr. went before a Federal judge to receive his sentence on Friday, somehow things turned out differently. Perri got two years of probation for mail and wire fraud and conspiracy, to which he pled guilty in 2013. He fixed cases in the now-defunct Traffic Court in exchange for bribes.
For Perri, the outcome was quite fortunate. He was considered a real hammer during his many years on the court. He handing out harsh sentences for the terrible, fabric-of-society-rending evils people perpetrated with their cars. The black-robed hypocrite's own activities helped to undermine public confidence in the justice system and discredit the Traffic Court, which was disbanded by the state legislature in 2013.
The learned Federal court cited Perri's advanced age and declining health to justify his relatively light sentence. Courts have vast discretion in sentencing, so there's nothing technically wrong with a sentence of probation for him. People who have been slammed with a harsh sentence or seen a loved one locked up for a minor transgression, however, might well wonder why someone who helped ruin a whole governmental institution was treated more leniently. Perri apparently managed to hide his wrongdoing behind the trappings of his office for long enough to claim to be too old to face the consequences.
Judge Perri's case continues a special Philadelphia tradition. When the political class breaks the law, it is treated as a higher caste that does not have to face the law's harshest consequences, even though the public trust reposed in officials makes their wrongdoing far more damaging to society than that of ordinary criminals. The treatment of a host of other minor judges and state legislators from our region earlier this year kept up the same tradition: though guilty of corruption, they got plea bargains that let them stay out of jail and even keep their hefty pensions. Former state Senator Vince Fumo's house arrest after a short stint in jail in his corruption case was another well-known manifestation of this special caste's status.
As long as this continues, no one should be surprised that outsiders see Philadelphia as a corrupt city run by bad people.
Judge Perri's story also shows what Republicans would have to do to gain credibility in a city where they have none. Briefly, they would have to purge everyone like him from their ranks. That would take some doing. In a city where you need a college degree to become an administrative assistant or a firefighter, Perri got on fine for many years as a high-school dropout judge with a nasty courtroom demeanor on the strength of his political connections. He seemed unabashed by the contrast between his high office and his lack of talent or character. Plenty of Democratic office-holders in Philly are of course just the same, but the political status quo favors them. Nobody of Perri's ilk would ever inspire people to change their party allegiances.
