COMMENTARY: Defense to be made for cameras in courtroom

That may seem like an odd argument for a print reporter to make.

But after sitting through the hearing, to help report on it for the CNHI newspapers in Indiana, I'm more convinced of the need for citizens to see for themselves how these proceedings unfold.

Try as we might, journalists can't do justice by simply describing the scene of a lengthy, complex hearing like the one that unfolded in federal court here Thursday.

We can report that Fogle got a 15 1/2-year sentence for his admitted crimes of trading in child pornography and paying underage teenagers for sex.

And we can report enough sordid details to help you understand why U.S. District Judge Tanya Walton Pratt rejected Fogle's tearful pleas for leniency.

Even a brief description of how Fogle satiated his sexual desires with phone-sex fantasies of harming young boys and videos of young girls – as young as 6 – engaged in sex acts ought to do that.

As would details of how doggedly he pursued opportunities to have sex with young teens – offering to pay underage prostitutes a generous “finder's fee” if they could find him some victims even younger than them.

This is a man whose attorneys tried to convince Pratt that his sexual addictions and proclivity for pedophilia – as affirmed by the therapist he hired after he was arrested – was as much beyond his control as his earlier addiction to food.

And we can report that Pratt practically scoffed at that notion: She wanted to know why Fogle, whose famous weight loss propelled him into the role of spokesman for the sandwich chain, hadn't used the millions of dollars he made to seek psychiatric help before he got caught in his web of crime.

“The level of perversion and lawlessness exhibited by Mr. Fogle is extreme,” Pratt said, after reciting a litany of how and where and when he engaged in his crimes.

Much tougher to report and explain is the complexity of the federal sentencing system and the rigid sentencing guidelines, imposed by Congress, in which Pratt has to operate.

Much of the hearing was devoted to prosecutors and defense attorneys arguing the details used to calculate the allowable sentencing range into which Fogle fell.

At one point, the attorneys were debating whether the 400 pornographic videos in Fogle's control were excessive, or just the norm for the average child porn collector.

Offensive, I know, but critical to the complex, point-based sentencing formula in the federal system.

It also fosters understanding of why Pratt could only go so far when she decided to depart upward from the sentencing formula.

Fogle, 38, had begged for five years in prison. Prosecutors, in a plea deal struck with him, agreed to 12 1/2 years.

Pratt, clearly frustrated by the limitations of the guidelines, pushed the penalty up to 15 1/2 years – about as far as she could without opening the door to a certain appeal.

Pratt, too, added a lifetime of post-prison supervision aimed at keeping Fogle as far away from children as possible – both in-person and online.

What citizens also could have seen, had they been able to view the court proceedings, is Pratt, herself.

She's the first African-American judge appointed to the federal bench in Indiana. She has a reputation for candor and toughness.

When Fogle whined that putting him in prison would leave his ex-wife to raise their children alone, Pratt stopped him cold: “You gave her $7 million,” she said. “She'll be OK.”

With a few exceptions, cameras have been banned in federal courtrooms since 1946.

That ban meant citizens couldn't see for themselves something important that unfolded Thursday: How justice works.

In sentencing Fogle, Pratt made it known the tearful pleas of Fogle's victims for punishment – chronicled in letters sent to her – trumped his tearful pleas for mercy.

The judge also made it clear that Fogle's fame and wealth, on which he's traded for so long, couldn't buy him the result he wanted.