One of the most common sentiments I heard from people in federal prison was regret—not doing more to prepare for sentencing. They sit in prison wondering, “Why didn’t I take more action when I had the chance?” That regret can weigh heavily, especially when time inside feels endless and there’s nothing they can do to change their past decisions.
What’s far more rare is hearing someone say, “I did everything I could to prepare.” There’s a unique strength and dignity in knowing you left no stone unturned (too cliche?!). When you know you’ve done everything possible, you avoid the mental prison of wondering what might have been. You find peace in the effort you put in to advocate for yourself.
I recently reflected on this during a conversation with Judge Benita Pearson. A few years ago, I had the privilege of sharing a stage with her at legal conference in Los Angeles. Her advice to defendants was direct and impactful: “Justin, a defendant should leave my courtroom exhausted because they’ve worked day and night to prepare for the best outcome.”
That exhaustion isn’t just about physical effort; it’s about mental preparation and taking ownership of the process. Defendants who truly want to prepare for sentencing take the time to write their personal narratives, build a release plan, create evidence of change, and present a full record of their life to the court often see better outcomes. Judges notice the effort. They recognize when someone has taken responsibility and worked to make amends.
Preparation doesn’t guarantee leniency, but it shows accountability and sincerity. It tells the judge that the defendant isn’t taking the process lightly. It also sends the prosecutor and probation officer a message that you’re serious about commitments made.
For those who choose not to prepare, the consequences can be severe. The government’s narrative becomes the dominant version of events. Judges rely on that version when deciding a sentence. If the only record in front of them is the government’s portrayal of your worst decisions, it’s hard to expect a shorter federal prison sentence.
Regret comes from inaction. Defendants who don’t prepare leave themselves vulnerable to harsher outcomes and spend years wondering what could have been. On the other hand, those who prepare can hold their heads high, knowing they did everything they could to influence the process.
Judge Pearson’s advice resonates deeply. Her words remind us that preparation is more than just saying, “I am sorry—it’s a pledge to do better, then follow through.
If you’re facing a federal case, don’t wait. Start preparing now. Write your story, organize your documents, and build a plan that shows the court who you are beyond the government’s narrative. Exhaust yourself in the process. You’ll find strength in knowing you left nothing undone—and no regrets to weigh you down.
Justin Paperny
