A judge began the sentencing hearing by saying, “There is very little evidence to support these claims.”
That one sentence set the tone.
The defendant, a corporate executive with a young family, had expected leniency. Instead, he got a longer prison term than anyone anticipated. A year earlier, I had tried to help him prepare. I filmed short Loom videos—private lessons meant to guide him step by step. He never watched them. Not one.
When I finally heard his sentence, it wasn’t shocking. It was the result of silence disguised as confidence.
The Story or Example
Over twelve months, I sent this executive five short videos.
Each one was simple: “Here’s what you can do now to document progress,” or “This step will help you show measurable change.”
He never replied.
Not once.
He had sold his home to pay his lawyer. But he wouldn’t invest twenty minutes to understand how to tell his own story. By doing and saying nothing, he made the government’s case stronger.
When he finally reached out after sentencing, he was heartbroken. His wife was stunned. His children were confused. I told him what I tell everyone who avoids this work: silence communicates indifference. The Department of Justice already paints defendants as dishonest or broken. If you do nothing to change that picture, the court will accept it as true.
The Lesson or Core Point
Silence is not neutral—it’s evidence of denial.
When a judge says, “There’s little evidence to support these claims,” that’s not a misunderstanding. It’s a statement that nothing credible was submitted to back up your narrative.
Judges and probation officers rely on what they can see:
- Consistent actions that show remorse
- Written documentation that proves learning or rehabilitation
- Letters and reports that demonstrate effort over time
A judge can’t measure your intentions. They can only measure what you’ve documented and submitted.
It’s not enough to hire a strong legal team. Lawyers can present facts, but only you can show the human story behind them. That means understanding what you did, why it mattered, and how you’re different today.
Preparation isn’t complicated—it’s consistent. Write, document, reflect, share progress. Those habits build the only evidence that counts.
Application / Takeaway
If you’re waiting for sentencing, silence helps no one. Every day you avoid preparation, you confirm the government’s version of you.
Start small:
- Write one paragraph explaining what led to your offense.
- Record one short video or voice memo reflecting on what you’ve learned.
- Review it honestly, then keep going.
Every defendant says they’ve learned something. Only a few can point to evidence that backs it up.
When defendants wait until the end to prepare, their sentencing hearings are full of regret, not evidence. I’ve watched too many people learn this lesson at sentencing. It’s avoidable, but only if you start early.
Document what you’re learning. Let others—your family, your probation officer, your judge—see it. That’s how you build credibility before you need it most.
Every week we review real sentencing examples that show what preparation actually looks like. You can sit in on a session or schedule a personal call if you’d rather talk through your own situation privately.
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: Does silence really affect sentencing?
A: Yes. Judges and probation officers notice when a defendant submits nothing beyond standard filings. Silence leaves the government’s version of events unchallenged.
Q: Can a lawyer handle this for me?
A: No. A lawyer can file motions and argue law, but only you can build a credible personal record that proves accountability.
Author Bio:
Written by Justin Paperny, federal prison consultant and founder of White Collar Advice, who helps defendants prepare for sentencing and rebuild after prison.
