Luigi Mangione Pleads Not Guilty as Federal Case Begins
Key Moments from April 25th Hearing and Recurring Themes
On Friday, April 25
The first federal hearing in United States v. Luigi Mangione took place at the Thurgood Marshall U.S. Courthouse on Foley Street in Manhattan. Mangione appeared calm and composed, seated at the defense table in a khaki prison jumpsuit and white undershirt, his hair freshly trimmed—shorter than it was at his last state court appearance in February. Notably, he was unshackled throughout the proceeding—a stark contrast to the state-level hearing, where he had been restrained hand and foot, prompting repeated objections from his attorney, Karen Friedman Agnifilo (KFA). The shift in treatment raises questions about how differently the NYPD and the federal government assess his threat level. It also yielded one of the most iconic courtroom photos in recent memory:
At the defense table, seated left to right, were Avraham Moskowitz (Mangione’s court-appointed death penalty counsel), Mangione, Marc Agnifilo, and Karen Friedman Agnifilo, with Karen seated closest to the prosecution. Sofia Agnifilo, daughter of Marc and Karen and the team’s paralegal, sat directly behind. Throughout the hearing, Mangione took notes on a yellow legal pad, occasionally smiling and nodding at quiet remarks from his attorneys. The proceedings were presided over by Judge Margaret Garnett, who disclosed prior professional interactions with members of both legal teams, though no objections were raised.
\After reading the charges aloud, Judge Garnett asked Mangione how he pled. He answered clearly: not guilty on all counts. The charges—already the subject of intense national scrutiny—are detailed in the federal indictment (link to full text).
That plea, however, stands in stark contrast to the public rhetoric surrounding Mangione’s legal defense fund, especially from its two most prominent organizers: Jamie Peck and Sam Beard. Both have framed Mangione as a political prisoner and folk hero, invoking jury nullification and the moral legitimacy of violent resistance against a corrupt healthcare system. But if Mangione is pleading not guilty—and if his attorneys are arguing that prejudicial public commentary is compromising his right to a fair trial—then how does it help his case when his fund’s organizers all but confirm his guilt, framing it as justified?
Seen purely through the lens of legal strategy, this dissonance would be alarming if I were on Mangione’s defense team. Peck and Beard seem to be steering the public narrative in a direction that directly contradicts the strategy unfolding in court. Peck even appears in the HBO documentary about the case, alongside New York City Mayor Eric Adams and a cast of actors who, according to reports, were given access to Mangione’s alleged manifesto before his own attorneys received it.
In the film, she says, “I understood immediately why someone would kill this guy”—“this guy” being Brian Thompson. It’s a jarring soundbite, especially when paired with a not guilty plea and ongoing motions to suppress evidence and challenge procedural violations. Beard, though more measured, still leans heavily into the socioeconomic themes, calling the healthcare CEO’s death a response to “bureaucratic murder.” These statements don’t support a not guilty defense. If anything, they undermine it.
About the Defense Fund
Their approach raises another question: Why take money from people whose public statements may be actively harming your defense? The fund has raised nearly a million dollars—hard to turn down, perhaps—but if I were Mangione’s counsel, I’d be demanding tighter message discipline from anyone publicly associated with the case.
When I reached out to Peck and Beard for comment, Peck never responded. Beard eventually replied via email, agreeing only to answer written questions.
What I Asked:
“Would you characterize your support for Luigi Mangione as being anti-privatized, corporate healthcare, or pro-his innocence regarding the charges he faces? Or both?”
Beard’s Response:
“We believe in the right of all Americans to a rigorous legal defense, and we want to ensure Luigi has the resources he needs to mount one. What we are seeing around us is the development of a full-on fascist, corporatist police state, where a tiny handful of oligarchs plunge us into the worst of all possible timelines. Luigi has become a symbol of the resistance to this impending nightmare, and that is why they are trying to kill him. He represents a light for hundreds of millions of people around the world, and that is why we are trying to protect him from state violence and repression.”
I’ll let readers draw their own conclusions from that.
Discovery, Evidence, and the Fog of Claims
One of the biggest unresolved mysteries remains the nature and scope of the evidence. Since the earliest stages of the case, authorities have hinted at massive amounts of data implicating Mangione, with references to terabytes of surveillance footage and digital records. Yet the material made public so far is underwhelming. The clearest image of Mangione comes from November 24th, 2024, when he was reportedly checking into a hostel on the Upper West Side. Every other image is of a masked figure in dark clothing with a hood and light backpack—images that, by themselves, leave ample room for reasonable doubt.
At Friday's hearing, the prosecution finally began outlining the nature of this long-awaited discovery. Dominic Gentile, representing the Southern District of New York, stated the government would be producing four "tranches" of evidence totaling over 1TB:
1. Search warrant returns from grand jury subpoenas of social media, financial, and cell phone companies
2. Google Drive and iCloud data (about 1GB)
3. Files from NYPD and Pennsylvania prosecutors, including social media and law enforcement data
4. The largest tranche (1TB) from the Manhattan DA's office
Gentile committed to delivering all tranches within the next 2-3 weeks, and Judge Garnett ordered full production by May 27. This means the defense team will finally have access to the so-called "manifesto" — a key piece of alleged evidence that has curiously been made available to media producers before defense counsel. Thomas Dickey, Mangione's Pennsylvania attorney, has separately moved to suppress all evidence seized at the time of his arrest, arguing that the items, including the manifesto, were found outside of Mangione's immediate possession and searched in violation of his Fourth Amendment rights.
For those inclined to wager, Polymarket currently offers odds on whether the evidence seized from the backpack at the Altoona McDonald’s will ultimately be suppressed, with a potential 150% return at the time of writing for those betting 'yes.'
The Dual Prosecution Dilemma
Karen Friedman Agnifilo raised a major issue during the hearing: the highly irregular parallel prosecution of Mangione by both New York State and the federal government. She explained that while there had initially been only a “handshake agreement” allowing the state case to proceed first, the defense’s stance had shifted now that the federal government is seeking the death penalty. Agnifilo told the judge they would now be "treating the federal case as if it’s the only case," and said a formal motion to that effect would be filed soon—citing a range of constitutional concerns if the state case were allowed to go forward first.
Judge Garnett acknowledged the issue and laid out a detailed schedule for motions:
June 27: Defense motion to preclude the death penalty due
August 8: Government response due
August 27: Defense reply
September 26: All suppression and indictment-related motions due
October 31: Government responses due
November 14: Defense replies due
December 5: Next court conference
The timing of these deadlines is telling. The June 27 filing by the defense falls just one day after a scheduled state court hearing on June 26—suggesting that, if their federal motion is granted, they may deprioritize or seek to delay the state proceeding.
The December 5 conference date is symbolically charged as well, landing just one year and one day after Brian Thompson was shot. The federal trial itself isn't expected to begin until 2026, meaning that if Judge Garnett grants the defense’s motion to proceed federally first, the state trial would be postponed until after the federal case concludes—if it moves forward at all.
Notably, Judge Garnett also took seriously the defense’s claim that a member of the Manhattan DA’s team had listened to a recorded jailhouse call between Mangione and his attorney. The prosecution claimed to be unaware of the incident and called it "not normal practice." The judge ordered a formal response by May 7.
Re: Spectacle, Symbolism, and the Mangione Mythos
Outside the courtroom, the case continues to stir chaotic and contradictory energies. More than 60 people lined up to get into the hearing, with many more rallying outside. The crowd was racially and generationally diverse. Among them was Chelsea Manning—an emblem of government whistleblowing and resistance—who has, at the very least, stood in line for each hearing, though it’s unclear if she’s actually made it inside yet.
One passerby asked, “Is this the guy who killed the healthcare CEO?” Several supporters quickly shot back, “Allegedly!”
The comment may have been offhand, but it captured something the legal fund’s organizers often miss: the difference between political support and legal protection. Jamie Peck, for instance, reportedly drew criticism from fellow supporters for cutting the line to enter the courtroom. Her visibility—and the fact that she helped raise nearly $1 million for Mangione’s defense—may give her informal status, but many are beginning to question who, exactly, she’s accountable to.
The stakes here are literally life and death. Yet the most visible figures behind Mangione’s defense often seem more interested in mythmaking than in securing a favorable legal outcome.
There is a line between symbolism and sabotage. If this case is truly about whether Luigi Mangione pulled the trigger—and that’s what the legal process is designed to determine—then those acting on his behalf should consider whether their narratives are doing more harm than good.
The deeper tragedy lies not only in the crime itself, but in what the reaction to this case reveals about American life. To some, Mangione represents a system so hollowed out by inequality and betrayal that even violence begins to feel understandable—if not defensible. To others, he’s simply a murderer trying to avoid accountability.
But beyond the politics and media frenzy, a more unsettling question lingers: are we even capable of seeing individuals clearly anymore? In a country fractured by economic despair and institutional decay, do we instinctively turn real people into symbols—heroes, villains, martyrs—instead of confronting the harder truths their stories expose?
A glimpse at Mangione’s intellectual history only complicates the picture. According to a December 9, 2024 article in People, his Goodreads account showed engagement with works like John Stuart Mill’s Principles of Political Economy—a text that argues wealth distribution is not a natural inevitability but a moral and political choice. Mill believed government intervention was sometimes necessary to protect the powerless, and that economic structures should serve the greatest good—not simply reward inherited privilege.
If Mangione truly gravitated toward those ideas, it suggests a worldview shaped by deep disillusionment with how American institutions allocate dignity, justice, and survival itself. It also raises a more difficult question: as someone born into privilege, was he wrestling with unresolved tensions around class, identity, and belonging?
Mangione’s case has touched something volatile: a collective sense of abandonment, a fury at institutions that demand everything and deliver so little. It’s tempting to romanticize him—or to condemn him in sweeping terms. It’s harder to sit with the discomfort that the system itself, not just the individuals caught within it, may have failed long before a shot was ever fired.
The law demands that we judge facts, not feelings. But whether we still can—or are even willing to—remains an open question.
👏 👏 great piece.