Cases/24-1056

Rico v. United States

Nov 3, 2025
2
Sentencing & Death Penalty
Congress & Legislation

What happens when a person on post-prison supervision disappears? Does the clock on their supervision period automatically stop?

The federal government is asking the Supreme Court to rule that when a person on supervised release becomes a fugitive, the clock on their sentence automatically pauses. The case involves a woman who disappeared from her probation officer's watch and, years after her supervision was scheduled to end, committed a new crime. The government wants to punish her for violating her original release terms, which is only possible if her sentence clock was secretly frozen the entire time she was missing.

The government argues this is a matter of common sense. The entire point of supervised release is for a person to be monitored and supported after leaving prison. If they make supervision impossible by running away, they are not truly serving their sentence, and therefore shouldn't get credit for the time they spend as a fugitive. Without such a rule, they claim, a person could simply hide for the last few months of their term and escape all consequences for absconding.

In response, the woman's lawyer argues that Congress never created an automatic-pause rule for supervised release. Instead, Congress provided a different tool: when a person absconds, a judge can issue a warrant for their arrest. Even if the original sentence term expires while they are gone, that warrant allows a judge to revoke the person's release once they are caught and impose a new, harsher punishment, including more prison time. This existing process, they argue, holds fugitives accountable without requiring courts to invent a rule that doesn't exist in the law.

Can a person be considered both 'on' and 'off' their supervised release sentence at the same time?

This logical puzzle is at the heart of a Supreme Court case about fugitives from post-prison supervision. The government contends that when a person absconds, the clock on their supervision sentence should be paused, or 'tolled.' In essence, they are 'off the clock' for the purpose of completing their sentence. At the same time, the government wants to punish that person for new crimes they commit while on the run, arguing those new crimes violate the conditions of that very same supervised release. This means the person must still be 'on' supervised release for the purpose of being punished.

The petitioner's attorney argued this is a fundamental contradiction. In his final rebuttal, he framed it as the government wanting to have it both ways: a person is simultaneously 'on' release (so they can violate its terms) and 'off' it (so the clock doesn't run out). He argued that if a person is capable of violating the rules of their sentence, they must logically be serving that sentence.

During arguments, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson challenged the government on this point. She suggested that what the government was really asking for was not a 'tolling' rule that pauses everything, but an 'extension rule' that keeps the conditions of release in effect indefinitely. This reframing highlighted the central tension: the government wants the obligations of supervision to continue forever for a fugitive, even while the time credited toward finishing the sentence is frozen.

If a statute doesn't specify a punishment for fugitives on supervised release, can the Supreme Court create one?

This question about the separation of powers was a major focus of a Supreme Court case concerning fugitives from post-prison supervision. The federal law governing supervised release does not contain a specific provision that pauses, or 'tolls,' the sentence clock when a person absconds. The government asked the Court to adopt such a rule anyway, arguing it is implied by the nature of supervision.

Several justices expressed deep skepticism about this request, viewing it as an attempt to have the judiciary write law, a power that belongs to Congress. Justice Neil Gorsuch bluntly told the government's lawyer that if the current system is flawed, the proper remedy is to ask Congress for a fix, not have the Court 'create a fugitive tolling doctrine pretty whole cloth.' Justice Elena Kagan echoed this by pressing the government's lawyer to identify where his proposed solution could be found in the text of the actual statute, exposing the lack of a clear legal basis for the government's position.

Justice Sonia Sotomayor framed the issue in constitutional terms, asking if the government's theory meant the Court would be 'by common law extending a period of punishment.' This highlighted the concern that the justices were being asked to do something outside their judicial role. The case therefore became a test of judicial philosophy: should the Court fill a perceived gap in the law based on common sense and purpose, or must it strictly adhere to the words Congress wrote, even if it creates a potential loophole?

If a fugitive's supervision clock keeps running, what stops people from just hiding to run out the final months of their sentence?

This practical concern is the government's primary argument for why the clock on supervised release must stop when a person absconds. They argue that if the clock continues to run, it creates a perverse incentive for offenders to disappear near the end of their term, effectively 'waiting out' their sentence and escaping accountability for both the act of fleeing and any other crimes they commit while in hiding. This, they claim, would undermine the entire purpose of post-prison supervision, which is meant to protect the public and help offenders reintegrate.

However, the person challenging the government, Ms. Rico, argues that this fear is misplaced because Congress already provided a powerful alternative. According to her lawyer, the law allows a court to issue a warrant the moment a person absconds. This warrant remains active even if the original supervision term expires. Once the person is apprehended on that warrant, a judge can hold a hearing, revoke the original term of supervised release, and impose an entirely new sentence, which can include more prison time.

This established process of issuing a warrant and seeking revocation ensures that a fugitive cannot simply get a 'free pass.' They are still held fully accountable for their actions, but through the specific legal mechanism that Congress designed, rather than a 'tolling' rule that the courts would have to invent. Justice Samuel Alito also questioned the real-world stakes, suggesting that even without a tolling rule, a judge could simply punish the person for absconding when resentencing them for the violation, making the legal fight over which method to use seem like a technicality.

Why should disappearing from supervision automatically pause a sentence clock, when secretly committing other serious crimes would not?

This question highlights a potential flaw in the government's theory that the clock on supervised release should stop when a person absconds. The government's rule is based on the idea that by disappearing, a person makes 'supervision' impossible, thus failing to serve their sentence. During oral arguments, however, the justices used hypotheticals to test the logic of applying this special consequence only to the act of fleeing.

Justice Sonia Sotomayor posed a compelling scenario: what about a person who reports to their probation officer every week but is secretly 'running a criminal enterprise'? That individual is arguably violating the 'essence of the supervision' far more dangerously than someone who merely disappears. Yet, under the government's proposed rule, the secret criminal's clock would keep running, while the absconder's would stop. This hypothetical exposed the potentially arbitrary nature of the government's position by questioning why one specific type of violation gets a unique time-stopping power.

Similarly, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson asked what would happen if a person on supervised release fell into a coma. They are not being supervised, but are they a fugitive? This forced the government to concede that its rule isn't just about a lack of supervision, but requires a 'deliberate' act of evasion by the defendant. This admission revealed that the government's theory required adding a mental-state requirement that, like the tolling rule itself, is nowhere to be found in the statute, suggesting the entire framework was being invented for this one situation.