Cook County voters have a chance on November 3 to hold the judiciary accountable. But first, they need to know who’s on the bench, what decisions they’re making, and how to vote
Consider the case of Terry King, a 40-year-old Chicago man whose latest encounter with the criminal justice system raises disturbing questions about public safety, judicial discretion, and the consequences of Illinois’ controversial SAFE-T Act.
According to reporting by CWBChicago, King allegedly punched a Chicago police officer in the face during a disturbance at the 69th Street Red Line station on June 24. He was charged with aggravated battery of a police officer but released pending trial. On September 17, prosecutors allege, King shot two men, ages 28 and 44, in the 800 block of East 79th Street. According to the allegations, he then stomped on one victim’s head after the man collapsed.
Terry King was no stranger to the criminal justice system. In fact, he was a “frequent flyer.” His record included a conviction for under what was contemporaneously known under Illinois law as the “Armed Habitual Criminal” statute, a Class X felony subsequently renamed as “Unlawful Possession of a Firearm by a Repeat Felony Offender.” In plain English, a REAL BAD GUY, just the kind of enemy of the people any reasonable Chicagoan wants to keep off the streets before he hurts another innocent, law-abiding victim. Yet he was back on the streets awaiting trial on another felony charge when prosecutors say he shot two men and stomped on one victim's head. Fortunately, Judge Deidre Dyer subsequently ordered him detained on the attempted murder charges and alleged pretrial release violations, but by then, two more Chicagoans had allegedly become victims of serious violence.
Based on the information presently available, Judge Dyer appears to have taken the action public safety demanded at that later hearing. If there is a judicial hero in this particular episode, she is at least a candidate for that distinction, but we have not established the answer to the obvious questions: who presided over King’s original appearance, did prosecutors request detention, and what authority did the court possess under the applicable provisions of the SAFE-T Act to keep this miscreant off the streets? Judge Dyer, incidentally, is not among the 60 Cook County judges seeking retention on November 3.
Astonishingly, and in fact absurdly, identifying the judge who originally released King, who is arguably an accessory before the fact to King’s latest crime, is easier said than done. Cook County, whether through bureaucratic ineptitude, historical accident, or deliberate design, makes it extraordinarily difficult for you, the average voter, to discover which judge authorized the release of a repeat felon who subsequently allegedly shot two men. The information is theoretically public, but good luck finding it with a simple online search. Unlike the readily available records of many other government activities, Cook County’s criminal court records are not comprehensively searchable online. To obtain the details of King’s original appearance, you may have to contact the Circuit Court Clerk, visit a courthouse, or rely on an enterprising journalist who has already done the legwork.
Consider the Kafkaesque absurdity of that situation. In a few weeks, Cook County voters will be asked to decide whether 60 judges deserve another term on the bench, yet the government makes it unnecessarily difficult to determine which judges made consequential decisions involving defendants accused of violent crimes. How are voters supposed to hold judges accountable when they cannot readily discover what those judges have done? Whatever the explanation for this lack of transparency, the result is the same: a judicial retention system that asks voters to render judgment while denying them convenient access to the evidence they need to make an informed decision, and that is a scandal in its own right. The identity of the judge presiding over a public criminal hearing should not be treated like a state secret. Neither should the basic disposition of a detention hearing, the prosecution’s request, or the court’s stated reasons for its decision. Certainly, sensitive information about victims, witnesses, juveniles, and sealed proceedings must remain protected. But there is no obvious reason the public should have to undertake a courthouse expedition simply to determine which judge decided in an ordinary public proceeding.
Illinois has created a system in which judges are periodically subjected to democratic accountability while the records necessary to exercise that accountability are inconveniently accessible. That is a contradiction that violates the spirit, if not the letter of freedom of information law, which ought to concern anyone who believes in transparent government, regardless of political affiliation.
The SAFE-T Act, cynically signed by the panderer-in-chief, Governor J.B. Pritzker in 2021, devastated Illinois’ system of pretrial detention by eliminating cash bail, foolishly restricting detention eligibility, and creating unacceptable risks to law-abiding Chicagoans when repeat offenders are injudiciously returned to the streets to offend again by incompetent or ideologically warped judges who should be contemptuously referred to as “Injustices” and “His Dis-Honor” out of respect for the victims of their feckless follies. The Terry King case is Exhibit A in the indictment of Pritzker and the “Injustices” who perpetrate these egregious outrages on the voters and taxpayers of this city. The critical facts are what charges were before the court, whether the prosecution sought detention, what evidence was presented, and whether the statute authorized detention under those circumstances. If detention was legally available but denied, the judge’s reasoning deserves scrutiny. Unfortunately, the very state that aided and abetted King’s latest crime also hides the evidence we the people need to exact justice on his robed accomplices.
The larger issue is accountability. When a defendant with a substantial criminal record is released and subsequently accused of committing a serious violent offense, the public has every reason and right to examine the original decision and easily ascertain the identity of the decision-maker. Was the law too restrictive? Did prosecutors fail to present sufficient evidence? Did the judge misunderstand or misapply the statute? Or was release legally required? Those are materially different explanations, with materially different implications for reform. Unfortunately, political arguments about criminal justice frequently collapse them into a tribal shouting match couched in idiotic progressive self-loathing identity politics, leaving voters with more anger than information. And in Cook County, where access to detailed criminal court records remains unnecessarily cumbersome, that information gap makes the problem worse.
Which brings us to a remarkably neglected feature of Illinois democracy: judicial retention elections. On November 3, Cook County voters will be asked to judge 60 judges seeking additional terms. Unlike candidates competing for an open judicial vacancy, sitting judges seeking retention do not run against an opponent. Instead, voters are asked whether each judge should remain in office. Circuit judges seeking another six-year term must receive at least 60 percent affirmative votes among those voting on their individual retention questions. Appellate judges face the same threshold for 10-year terms. The ballot offers two choices: YES and NO. A blank response is an abstention, not a negative vote. This distinction matters because the retention system gives voters a direct means of expressing their judgment about individual judges, even though relatively few incumbents have historically failed to win another term.
The difficulty, of course, is that most voters know virtually nothing about the people whose names appear on these ballots. We hear about mayors, governors, aldermen, prosecutors, and police superintendents; we follow sensational criminal cases, particularly when defendants accused of terrible crimes have previous encounters with the justice system -- but how many of us can identify the judge who made the relevant pretrial decision? How many know whether the prosecutor sought detention, whether the defense contested it, or what findings the judge entered? Judicial elections receive comparatively little attention, even though judges exercise extraordinary power over individual liberty, the administration of justice, and the protection of the public. The result is a system in which voters are expected to make consequential decisions with extraordinarily little accessible information. There are resources available, although they need to be taken with a boulder-sized grain of salt:
- The Chicago Bar Association preposterously recommends retention of all 60 Cook County judges on the ballot (a farcical abdication of responsibility that merits further investigation);
- The Illinois State Bar Association publishes judicial evaluations. These typically examine matters such as legal knowledge, integrity, temperament, diligence, and professional qualifications. Those are important characteristics, but they do not answer every question a voter might reasonably have. A judge may be knowledgeable about the law and courteous in the courtroom while making decisions that seriously affect public safety. Conversely, a controversial release decision may have been compelled by statute rather than personal preference. A responsible examination must distinguish between those possibilities. Professional background matters, too: former prosecutors, public defenders, private practitioners, and civil litigators bring different experiences to the bench. But a résumé cannot substitute for a record of actual judicial decisions. Many a judge’s track record leaves a trail of innocent victims that qualifies them for the Injudicious Hall of Shame.
- Injustice Watch, a nonprofit newsroom focused on the Cook County justice system, has published an easily digestible and comprehensive guide to the November 2026 judicial elections. The organization describes its guide as nonpartisan and explicitly states that it does not endorse judicial candidates. It provides information about judges’ backgrounds, professional evaluations, controversies, and other aspects of their records. Despite these disclaimers, consider the source. Readers familiar with Injustice Watch may strongly disagree with its editorial priorities and its activism in releasing convicted violent felons (your humble correspondent shares those serious concerns), but the guide offers a usable starting point for independent investigation.
One question worth asking is whether judicial evaluations devote sufficient attention to decisions involving repeat violent offenders and the consequences of pretrial release. Another is whether voters can obtain the underlying court records necessary to evaluate such decisions fairly.
There is another uncomfortable dimension to this debate. The people most exposed to violent crime are frequently residents of neighborhoods that have suffered from decades of disinvestment, weak commercial activity, and persistent gang violence. The victims of crime are not abstractions in an ideological argument. They are working people, children, parents, business owners, and neighbors whose daily lives depend on a functioning system of public safety. When violence becomes routine, businesses hesitate to invest, families consider leaving, and the institutions that sustain community life become harder to maintain. Chicago’s population losses and neighborhood inequalities have multiple causes, but public safety is plainly one of the conditions necessary for communities to prosper. Any criminal justice philosophy that emphasizes defendants’ rights must weigh in the balance of justice the legitimate rights and interests of victims and potential victims.
This is not an argument for abandoning due process or presuming every accused person guilty. Quite the contrary. A justice system worthy of the name must protect the innocent, prosecute the guilty fairly, and make detention decisions according to law and evidence. Nor should judges be blamed automatically for every crime committed by someone previously released. The critical distinction is between an unfortunate outcome and a demonstrably unsound decision. Accountability requires evidence. If a judge had no legal authority to detain a defendant, responsibility for that limitation belongs principally with lawmakers. If prosecutors never requested detention, their decision deserves examination. If a judge disregarded persuasive evidence of a legally recognized threat, the ruling merits scrutiny. And if a judge acted appropriately under the circumstances, voters deserve to know that as well.
The November election therefore presents an opportunity for something more useful than another round of slogans about being tough or soft on crime. It is an opportunity to examine the records of the judges who exercise power in our courts. What have they ruled? Have their decisions been reversed? Have professional organizations identified concerns about their qualifications or conduct? Have they been involved in significant pretrial release controversies, and what do the records actually show? These are legitimate questions for journalists, civic organizations, and voters alike. They should be answered with names, dates, case numbers, judicial orders, and clear explanations of the applicable law.
There is an old saying that justice is blind. That principle means the law should be administered impartially, without favoritism or prejudice. It does not mean the public should be blind to the administration of justice. Judges are entrusted with enormous authority, and Illinois has deliberately given voters a role in determining whether they should continue exercising it. That role should be taken seriously. A judicial retention ballot is not an incomprehensible appendix to the election. It is a mechanism of democratic accountability.
Chicago’s future depends on many things: responsible government, economic opportunity, effective policing, competent prosecution, fair courts, and the restoration of public confidence in institutions that have too often disappointed the people they serve. None of those objectives can be accomplished by a single election, and no individual judge can solve the city’s crime problems. But informed public scrutiny is indispensable to every one of them. On November 3, voters will have an opportunity to examine the people who administer justice in their name. They should know what a YES vote means, what a NO vote means, and what the evidence reveals about each judge before making that decision.
The question is not simply who’s judging the defendants. It’s who’s judging the judges. And in Illinois, at election time, that responsibility ultimately belongs to the voters. Let’s be sure to take it seriously, now and from now on.
