Peter Moyers

Education

• A.B., magna cum laude, Princeton University

• J.D., Harvard Law School

Court Admissions

• Wisconsin

• Eastern and Western Districts of Wisconsin

• New York

• Eastern and Southern Districts of New York

• Northern District of Iowa

• Western District of Pennsylvania

• U.S. Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit

• U.S. Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit

• U.S. Supreme Court

Publications

• Butchering Statutes: The Postville Raid and the Misinterpretation of Federal Criminal Law | View Here

Why I do what I do

I grew up in Iowa City. I graduated with high honors from Princeton with a philosophy degree. Since they weren’t hiring down at the philosophy factory, I decided to go to law school at Harvard. 

With my law degree in hand, I set out for New York City, where I worked as a corporate finance lawyer at a big Wall Street law firm. I learned much, but the work was even less interesting than it sounds. 

I left the law firm and returned to Iowa, where I clerked for a federal judge. It was my experience as a federal clerk that led me to criminal defense. On my first day, I was shocked when a judge sentenced a man to 8 years for selling about $400 worth of heroin to an undercover officer. I learned that the criminal justice system over-punishes and that a criminal conviction, even a misdemeanor, can ruin a life. 

The system also has a racially-disparate impact on people of color. That’s a fancy way of saying that African-Americans and Latinos make up a far greater percentage of the prison population than they do in society at large. For example, African-Americans make up about 13% of the US population, but they make up over 40% of our prison population. 

In Wisconsin, it’s even worse. “Nationally, one in 81 Black adults in the U.S. is serving time in state prison. Wisconsin leads the nation in Black imprisonment rates; one of every 36 Black Wisconsinites is in prison.” The Color of Justice: Racial and Ethnic Disparity in State Prisons | The Sentencing Project

I wish I could take all of my cases to trial. I love the courtroom. It’s where I feel most comfortable. I love standing up to fight for my clients, especially when no one else wants to. And I approach each case as if I’m taking it to trial because that’s how I get my clients the best results. Of course, actually going to trial is not always in my clients’ best interests, and what I want or enjoy most doesn’t matter. But approaching a case with an aggressive “trial attitude” is the best way to get the prosecution to dismiss or reduce the charges against my clients.

The criminal justice system is run by human beings: police, prosecutors, court clerks, and judges are the primary players. Criminal charges are always very personal for clients, but for everyone else, it’s another day at the office. For them, the client’s case is just one among hundreds, and it’s my job is to tell the client’s story in a way that differentiates you from the masses they see each day.

All clients are unique. But they share a few things in common. They want the charges to go away, and if I can’t get all the charges to go away, they want the punishment that hurts the least amount.

I’ve been to the Supreme Court—twice. The first was Dillon v. United States, 560 U.S. 817 (2010), and the second was Reynolds v. United States, 565 U.S. 432 (2012). I learned what it takes to get the Supreme Court to hear your case and, when you get there, what it takes to win. I’ve also argued 10 cases before U.S. Circuit Courts of Appeal, and co-authored briefs in dozens more. The point is that I’m comfortable fighting for clients in places very few attorneys have ever been. I’m comfortable because I’ve been there before and I’ve won.