On a Thursday morning last month, Patrick O’Brien, a federal immigration judge, walked into his courtroom in downtown San Francisco. He was scheduled for a master-calendar hearing, a roll call, essentially, to get cases ready for trial. O’Brien was wearing a matte-black robe that seemed to absorb the artificial light overhead. He took his seat, scanned the room, and angled himself toward a computer monitor. The court was leanly staffed. There was a judicial clerk but no bailiff or stenographer. Opposite the judge were tables for the prosecution—the Department of Homeland Security—and for the respondent, a succession of immigrants who were applying for asylum. A Spanish interpreter appeared as a faceless box on a big screen.

About ten people, all Latino, sat in wooden pews, gripping folder

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