Op-Ed: In the Scott Peterson Case, Justice Demands We Look Again

“This new evidence undermines the prosecution’s entire circumstantial case against Petitioner, and shows that the jury relied on false evidence, including false scientific evidence, to convict him.” – Los Angeles Innocence Project

It’s been more than two decades since Scott Peterson was convicted of the murders of his pregnant wife, Laci, and their unborn son, Conner. For many Americans, the case felt simple, even obvious: Peterson’s aloof demeanor, his affair with another woman, and the circumstantial evidence seemed to paint a damning picture. Media coverage at the time was relentless, shaping public perception before the trial even began. 

But justice isn’t supposed to rest on gut feelings, media narratives, or the emotional optics of a defendant’s behavior. It must rest on the evidence—and evidence, as we are now seeing, can evolve.

The Los Angeles Innocence Project (LAIP) recently filed a petition for a writ of habeas corpus with the California Court of Appeal, presenting a sweeping array of newly-discovered evidence that fundamentally challenges the integrity of Peterson’s conviction. 

According to the press release issued by the LAIP: “This … Writ of Habeas Corpus presents new evidence that was not available at the time of trial, supports Petitioner’s claim of innocence, and shows he was wrongfully convicted. This new evidence undermines the prosecution’s entire circumstantial case against Petitioner, and shows that the jury relied on false evidence, including false scientific evidence, to convict him.”

The Innocence Project doesn’t take up cases lightly. They have more cases to take than they can handle.  Competition is very fierce for a case to be taken up by the Innocence Project—and worthy cases that end in exoneration often are not taken.

They are also not a defense organization—they seek out cases where there are strong and actionable claims of innocence.  They are an organization rooted in rigorous investigation, and they prioritize strong claims of actual innocence backed by new evidence. 

They also understand—perhaps more than most—that wrongful convictions are not rare anomalies, but predictable outcomes in a system susceptible to bias, error, and human fallibility. When such an organization commits to revisiting a case, particularly one as high-profile and controversial as Scott Peterson’s, we ought to pay attention. 

At the very least, we should not dismiss the effort out of hand.

Among the revelations contained in the LAIP’s petition is the claim that the entire circumstantial case against Peterson lacked the forensic, physical, or direct evidence typically expected in a murder prosecution. Despite executing eleven search warrants, installing GPS trackers, wiretapping phones, and conducting extensive forensic examinations, prosecutors found no forensic evidence linking Peterson to the alleged crime scene or to his wife’s death. And yet, the conviction was secured based largely on theories, demeanor interpretations, and problematic scientific testimony.

In particular, the LAIP’s filing highlights serious concerns about forensic testimony relating to the time and manner of Laci Peterson’s and Conner’s deaths. At trial, the prosecution relied heavily on a fetal growth estimate to argue that Laci died on December 23, 2002—conveniently matching the narrative that Peterson killed her the night before she was reported missing.

But according to new research cited by the LAIP, contemporary methods of fetal development analysis refute that timeline. An analysis conducted by the Vice Chair of the Radiology Department at Brigham & Women’s Hospital in Boston, based on more recent scientific methods, concluded that Conner’s death likely occurred days later—between December 28, 2002, and January 5, 2003—a time frame when Scott Peterson had an alibi.

Even more striking, the prosecution’s own fetal development expert, interviewed in 2024 by LAIP investigators, admitted that had he based his opinion on more recent research published by the National Institute for Childhood Health and Development, he would have placed the date of death around January 2, 2003—further undermining the prosecution’s original theory.

The forensic science problems don’t end there. The LAIP petition also challenges the hydrological modeling used at trial to suggest that Laci’s body must have been dumped where Peterson had gone fishing. Updated hydrodynamic analysis, based on actual historical tide and current data, now suggests that the bodies could not have drifted from Peterson’s fishing location to where they were found. Instead, they were most likely placed into the San Francisco Bay at a completely different location accessible by foot or car, further eroding the prosecution’s narrative.

None of this is to claim that Peterson is definitively innocent. But it is to say that there are legitimate, material questions about the fairness of his conviction—questions that deserve serious evaluation rather than reflexive dismissal.

As Mark Godsey, Director of the Ohio Innocence Project, wrote in his own extensive review of the case several years ago before much of this evidence surfaced, many wrongful convictions hinge not on solid evidence but on unreliable “demeanor evidence.” 

Peterson’s perceived aloofness, his public persona during the investigation, and his behavior during trial heavily influenced the jury. Godsey warns, however, that “despite what our intuition tells us, demeanor evidence just doesn’t mean that much and can’t be taken to the bank.” 

Numerous wrongful conviction cases have proven that juries, police, and the public are poor judges of truthfulness based on outward behavior.

Godsey also scrutinized the so-called scientific evidence presented at Peterson’s trial, finding serious flaws.

 He argued that in Peterson’s case, the experts were too closely aligned with the prosecution’s narrative, essentially working backward from the conclusion they were supposed to reach. 

“There were three types of ‘scientific’ evidence presented by experts at Scott’s trial,” Godsey writes, “and all of it was problematic.”

What’s perhaps most disturbing is the LAIP’s uncovering of alleged evidence suppression by the Modesto Police Department and Stanislaus County prosecutors. According to the petition, key exculpatory materials—including videotaped interviews with burglary suspects who may have been involved in events tied to Laci’s disappearance—were destroyed just two weeks after Peterson’s arraignment. 

Also allegedly destroyed was a safe stolen during a burglary across the street from the Peterson home, and possibly linked to the timeline of Laci’s disappearance.

The suppression and destruction of evidence raise serious questions about the integrity of the investigation and prosecution. If exculpatory evidence was destroyed, intentionally or negligently, that alone undermines the fundamental fairness of the trial.

As the LAIP petition concludes: “Every aspect of the prosecution’s theory as to how the crimes in this case were committed has now been shown to be false. In some cases, no one individual error is prejudicial enough to warrant relief, but when there are a number of constitutional or statutory violations, the court will conclude that the errors, cumulatively, undermine confidence in the conviction and warrant relief. That is certainly the case here.”

The Los Angeles Innocence Project’s Board President, John Sonego, put it bluntly: “We decided that this case deserved a second look, because of issues related to ‘confirmation bias’ and potential Brady violations committed by the Modesto Police and Stanislaus County District Attorney’s Office that we believe led to Peterson’s wrongful conviction. Any injustice must be made right.”

At this point, no one is suggesting that Scott Peterson be immediately released without judicial review. But we should insist that the courts fully and fairly evaluate this new evidence. Our system of justice demands as much—not just for Scott Peterson, but for all of us. If a conviction rests on false or incomplete evidence, on outdated science, or on suppressed exculpatory materials, then it is not a conviction worthy of trust.

The Peterson case was—and still is—emotionally charged. But emotion should never override evidence. If we claim to believe in justice, we must be willing to confront uncomfortable truths, even when they challenge the certainty we thought we had. Justice doesn’t fear scrutiny. It demands it.

In the end, the question isn’t whether you believe Scott Peterson is guilty or innocent. 

The real question is: What harm is there in a second look?

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