When I stood in front of Judge Steven Wilson, I never thought about his values—or how mine compared. Looking back, I should have. Judges, prosecutors, probation officers—they all form opinions about you, and if you don't create a record, the only version they see is the government's. In this episode, I walk through an exercise I wish I had done as a defendant: list your judge's values and ask how yours align. Discipline, accountability, public service—are you showing those in your life right now? I also share ten questions every defendant should answer, from how prosecutors see you, to what victims think, to what steps you've taken to make things right. Judges notice effort, not empty promises. They discount boilerplate apologies. You don't need a million ideas—you need one executed well. The stonecutter's blows matter, not silence. Start now.

Justin Paperny

We can't change the past. But if you're under investigation, you can absolutely influence what happens next. Too many defendants keep their heads down, pay back some money, plead guilty, and think that's enough. It isn't. Judges expect more than compliance or boilerplate apologies. I've been to sentencing hearings where defendants beg for mercy with the same lines: "I'm sorry. I'll never do it again. I cooperated." Judges see through it. They want proof you're different from the government's version of events. That means showing—early and often—what you've learned, what you're fixing, and how you're building a new record. Judge Ralph Erickson put it best: "Tell me something your client did when no one was keeping score." If you don't start writing your own slate, the government will fill it for you. In this episode, I share what real mitigation looks like and why it starts today.

Justin Paperny

When UBS fired me in 2005, I wasn't thinking about a government investigation. I was worried about my job, my clients, and how to spin a story. Three months later the FBI knocked, and I lied. Then I went dark for a year, convinced they'd forgotten about me. They hadn't. During that time, I should have been building a record that countered the government's version of events. Instead, I left the field wide open, and the government set the tone with their press release. In this episode, I talk about why silence makes you weaker, why judges do read everything, and what former judges have told us they look for—proof, not promises. If you have a probation interview or sentencing ahead, you can't wait. Start building something now, even if it's small, so the government isn't the only author of your story.

Justin Paperny

In this episode, I share what I wish someone had told me when the FBI knocked on my door back in 2005. I didn't handle it well. I stayed silent, told half-truths, and thought expensive lawyers and keeping busy would protect me. It didn't. By the time the plea came, the government had already built the case and written the narrative. The DOJ press release branded me a criminal, and I had nothing in my file to counter it. In prison, I met Michael Santos, who pushed me to stop staring at shadows and start creating proof of who I was becoming. That first blog I wrote in 2008 changed everything—it gave judges, probation officers, and even my family something to see beyond the charges. If you're preparing for a probation interview or sentencing, don't wait. Build something now, so the government isn't the only author of your story.

Stop Wasting Time—Start Proving You Deserve Leniency A defendant facing sentencing told me, "I wish I knew then what I know now." But wishing doesn't move the needle. His probation officer already sees him as "trash." That perception won't change with excuses. In the next two weeks, he needs to document growth—something that proves he's more than a case number. Judges and probation officers don't reward regret. They respond to action. Start showing—not just saying—what you've learned, what you're doing, and how you'll rebuild.

Join our weekly webinar every Tuesday at 11AM Pacific / 2PM Eastern to learn how to make every day count toward leniency.

George Santos told Tucker Carlson, "I don't think I survive this."

CNN asked me if that fear was justified. I've served time in federal prison, and over the last 15 years, our team has worked with thousands of people getting ready to surrender—people from all backgrounds, including high-profile defendants like Santos.

He's reporting to a minimum-security camp, not a violent facility. But fear isn't unusual. What's unusual is how public he's been about it—and how little he's done to prepare.

In this segment, I break down:

– Why fear isn't the problem—lack of preparation is – What case managers, judges, and probation officers still expect after sentencing – How people waste time inside—and how some use it to write, teach, and build credibility – Why asking for a pardon before doing the work sends the wrong message

If you're facing federal sentencing or prison, start now.

Justin Paperny

Judges hear promises at sentencing all the time—but most defendants don't follow through. One member of our community did. He documented his daily prison routine, reported what he was learning, and shared how he was preparing to live responsibly and repay victims. His consistency paid off: a judge resentenced him to time served under the First Step Act. The takeaway? Don't wait until you want something. Build a record. Share it. Show it. That's how you earn trust—and liberty.

Join our weekly webinar every Tuesday at 11AM Pacific / 2PM Eastern to learn how.

Accountability Starts with Ownership—Even for High-Profile Defendants

People criticize offering advice to figures like Elizabeth Holmes or George Santos. But real change starts the same way for everyone: by accepting full responsibility. I learned this firsthand in federal prison. Once I stopped deflecting and said, "It's all my fault—here's what I'll do moving forward," my life began to shift. That mindset—combined with a clear plan and consistent documentation—builds credibility with stakeholders. You won't win everyone back, but you can earn trust from those who matter.

Join our weekly webinar every Tuesday at 11AM Pacific / 2PM Eastern to learn how to build your release plan and prove you're serious.

When people think about the biggest consequence of a criminal conviction, they often focus on prison, DOJ press releases, or the guilty plea itself. But as Justin Paperny shares, the deeper cost comes later: isolation. After prison, even success draws skepticism — online hate, accusations, even extortion attempts. Justin's viral video brought both praise and attacks, but years after prison, he's learned to feel indifferent. That indifference, though, comes with loneliness few understand.

Takeaway: The emotional aftermath of conviction lingers long after release.

👉 Join our weekly webinar every Tuesday at 11AM Pacific / 2PM Eastern.

Why Sean Combs Won't Get Time Served Without Effort

Too many assume Sean Combs will get time served, but that's lazy thinking. As I explained on Law and Crime, federal judges don't just hand out leniency — they need proof. In Combs' case, the judge cited his past criminal history when denying release, showing skepticism already. A lawyer's polished statements won't cut it. What matters is what Combs is doing himself — in prison — to show personal growth, remorse, and commitment to change. Judges listen when probation officers vouch for real progress, not paid defenses.

👉 Join our weekly webinar every Tuesday at 11AM Pacific / 2PM Eastern.