State v. Wilson ( 2023 )


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  •   NOTICE: This opinion is subject to modification resulting from motions for reconsideration under Supreme Court
    Rule 27, the Court’s reconsideration, and editorial revisions by the Reporter of Decisions. The version of the
    opinion published in the Advance Sheets for the Georgia Reports, designated as the “Final Copy,” will replace any
    prior version on the Court’s website and docket. A bound volume of the Georgia Reports will contain the final and
    official text of the opinion.
    In the Supreme Court of Georgia
    Decided: February 21, 2023
    S22A0967. THE STATE v. WILSON.
    COLVIN, Justice.
    The State appeals from the grant of defendant Roceam
    Wilson’s motion to suppress. 1 The State contends that the trial court
    erred in concluding that the search warrant issued for Wilson’s cell
    phones was overbroad and authorized a general search in violation
    of the Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution. In
    reviewing the trial court’s grant of the motion to suppress, “we apply
    the well-established principles that the trial court’s findings as to
    disputed facts will be upheld unless clearly erroneous and the trial
    court’s application of the law to undisputed facts is subject to de novo
    review.” State v. Palmer, 
    285 Ga. 75
    , 78 (
    673 SE2d 237
    ) (2009)
    Wilson was indicted for, among other things, murder in connection with
    1
    the shooting death of Bradly Jordan. The State appeals the trial court’s
    pretrial ruling pursuant to OCGA § 5-7-1 (a) (5), and we have jurisdiction to
    consider this appeal. See Ga. Const. of 1983, Art. VI, Sec. VI, Par. III (8).
    (citation and punctuation omitted). Applying that standard here,
    we see no error in the trial court’s order. Accordingly, we affirm.
    The record shows that, on January 28, 2021, Bradly Jordan
    was shot and killed while performing pest control services at an
    apartment complex. After conducting an investigation at the crime
    scene, officers determined that the shooter was a “black male”
    driving a teal green “[1990]s model Ford Aerostar van” with a
    missing hubcap. Utilizing a license plate tracking system, officers
    located a van matching this description a few miles from the incident
    location. Wilson was listed as the registered owner of the vehicle.
    Officers conducted a traffic stop on the Ford Aerostar and spoke with
    Wilson, who was in the driver’s seat.        After answering some
    questions, Wilson was arrested and officers impounded his vehicle,
    which was later searched pursuant to a warrant.          During that
    search, officers located, among other things, two cell phones, both of
    which belonged to Wilson.
    One of the lead investigators subsequently sought a second
    search warrant “for a forensic examination” of the cell phones. The
    2
    investigator completed a sworn affidavit and submitted it to the
    magistrate in support of the search warrant application. Other than
    the information contained in the search warrant affidavit, no other
    material or testimony was provided to the magistrate.
    The magistrate subsequently issued a warrant that authorized
    a forensic search of Wilson’s cell phones “to be completed in order to
    obtain any and all stored electronic information, including but not
    limited to; user account information, stored phone information,
    images, text messages, videos, documents, e-mails, internet activity,
    call logs, contact information, phone information, or any deleted
    data.”    The warrant further included preprinted form language
    stating that “[t]he foregoing described property, items, articles,
    instruments, and person(s) to be searched for and seized constitute
    evidence connected with the foregoing listed crime(s)[2] and is/are:
    (check all that are applicable) (OCGA § 17-5-21)3.” The swearing
    2 The search warrant asserted that Wilson was believed to have
    committed felony murder, aggravated assault, and possession of a firearm
    during the commission of a felony.
    3 This code section does not reference criminal activity. Instead, it lists
    3
    officer then checked four boxes on the preprinted form, indicating
    that investigators believed the cell phones were: “intended for use in
    the commission of the crime(s) herein described;” “used in the
    commission of the crime(s) herein described;” “tangible, corporeal or
    visible evidence of the commission of the crime(s) set forth above,”
    and “intangible, incorporeal or invisible evidence of the commission
    of the crime(s) set forth above.”
    Wilson challenged the validity of the cell phone search warrant
    in a pretrial motion to suppress. After a hearing, the trial court
    granted Wilson’s motion, finding that the search warrant was
    “overly broad and authorized a general search of [Wilson’s] personal
    effects without probable cause in violation of the Fourth
    Amendment and OCGA § 17-5-21.” The State alleges that this was
    error, contending that the warrant included sufficient probable
    cause and sufficient particularity to avoid authorizing a general
    search. Pretermitting the issue of probable cause, we agree with the
    the process by which law enforcement officers must abide when seeking a
    warrant.
    4
    trial court that the warrant did not meet the particularity
    requirement and therefore authorized an impermissible general
    search.
    The Fourth Amendment to the United States Constitution
    “require[s] that a search warrant particularly describe the article or
    articles sought.” Dobbins v. State, 
    262 Ga. 161
    , 164 (3) (
    415 SE2d 168
    ) (1992) (citations omitted). In addition to requiring that officers
    have enough guidance to locate and seize only those items the
    warrant authorizes them to seize, see Fair v. State, 
    284 Ga. 165
    , 170
    (3) (a) (
    664 SE2d 227
    ) (2008), this particularity requirement also
    prevents general searches—that “general, exploratory rummaging
    in a person’s belongings” by the government that has been rejected
    since the founding as a violation of “fundamental rights.” Coolidge
    v. New Hampshire, 
    403 U.S. 443
    , 467 (II) (C) (91 SCt 2022, 29 LE2d
    564) (1971), holding modified by Horton v. California, 
    496 U.S. 128
    (110 SCt 2301, 110 LE2d 112) (1990); Marron v. United States, 
    275 U.S. 192
    , 195 (1) (48 SCt 74, 72 LE 231) (1927) (“General searches
    have long been deemed to violate fundamental rights. It is plain that
    5
    the [Fourth] Amendment forbids them.”). See also Groh v. Ramirez,
    
    540 U.S. 551
    , 559 (II) (124 SCt 1284, 157 LE2d 1068) (2004); Wayne
    R. LaFave, 2 Search & Seizure § 4.6 (a) (6th ed. 2022).            The
    particularity requirement is “applied with a practical margin of
    flexibility, depending on the type of property to be seized, and a
    description of property will be acceptable if it is as specific as the
    circumstances and nature of activity under investigation permit.”
    Rickman v. State, 
    309 Ga. 38
    , 42 (2) (
    842 SE2d 289
    ) (2020) (citation
    and punctuation omitted). “The uniformly applied rule is that a
    search conducted pursuant to a warrant that fails to conform to the
    particularity   requirement    of       the   Fourth   Amendment    is
    unconstitutional.” Groh, 
    540 U.S. at 559
     (quoting Stanford v. Texas,
    
    379 U.S. 476
     (85 SCt 506, 13 LE2d 431) (1965) (punctuation
    omitted)).
    While the State concedes that the warrant “broadly target[s]
    the data” in Wilson’s cell phones, the State argues that, when read
    as a whole, the warrant sufficiently limits the search of the phones
    to evidence connected with the crimes. We disagree. As the State
    6
    acknowledges, the search warrant broadly authorizes the seizure of
    “any and all stored electronic information” on the phones, “including
    but not limited to” various kinds of electronic information. The State
    points to the preprinted form language following this sweeping
    authorization as “limiting” in nature.      However, that language
    clearly states that “[t]he foregoing described property”—that is, “any
    and all stored electronic information” on the phones—“constitutes
    evidence connected with the crimes.”          This language cannot
    plausibly be read, as the State suggests, to limit the otherwise
    limitless authorization to search for and seize any and all data that
    can be found on Wilson’s cell phones. Indeed, the warrant’s complete
    absence of limiting language distinguishes it from other warrants
    we have upheld in prior cases based on the presence of so-called
    “residual clauses” or other limiting language. Compare Palmer v.
    State, 
    310 Ga. 668
    , 675 (1) (c) (
    853 SE2d 650
    ) (2021) (search warrant
    authorizing search and seizure of, among other things, “cell phones
    (to include all data contained therein) . . . which are being possessed
    in violation of Georgia law(s): OCGA § 16-5-1 Murder” was
    7
    sufficiently particularized when, reading the warrant as a whole and
    “in a common-sense fashion,” it sufficiently “listed classes of items
    that, as a practical matter, were likely to be found relevant” to the
    crimes in the warrant, and it further limited those “classes of items
    to those relevant to [the crime]” (emphasis supplied)); Westbrook v.
    State, 
    308 Ga. 92
    , 97-98 (3) (a) (
    839 SE2d 620
    ) (2020) (search
    warrant for “electronic data” on defendant’s cell phone was
    sufficiently particularized “to enable a prudent officer to know to
    look for photographs and videos” because the language of the
    warrant “limited the scope of the search to evidence pertaining to the
    commission of the murder” (emphasis supplied)); and Rickman, 309
    Ga. at 42 (warrants that included language authorizing officers to
    search cell phones for “messages, photographs, videos, contacts, and
    any other application data, or any other evidence of the crime of
    murder” were sufficiently particularized because the language of the
    warrants limited the search of the cell phones “to items reasonably
    appearing to be connected to [the victim’s] murder.” (emphasis
    supplied)). Because the warrant in this case was not sufficiently
    8
    particularized, the trial court did not err in concluding that the
    warrant authorized an impermissible general search of Wilson’s cell
    phones.
    The State also contends that the evidence obtained from
    Wilson’s cell phones is admissible under the Davis4 good-faith
    exception to the exclusionary rule. This good-faith exception applies
    to “searches conducted [by police officers] in objectively reasonable
    reliance on binding appellate precedent that is later overruled.”
    Outlaw v. State, 
    311 Ga. 396
    , 400 (2) (b) (
    858 SE2d 63
    ) (2021)
    (citation and punctuation omitted).          The State asserts that the
    search here was lawful under current Georgia precedent, and that if
    we conclude otherwise, we would be “revising” our precedent.
    However, the State incorrectly assumes that this Court must
    overrule Georgia precedent in order to affirm the trial court’s order.
    As shown above, well-established legal precedent supports our
    conclusion that the trial court properly suppressed the cell phone
    4Davis v. United States, 
    564 U.S. 229
    , 241 (III) (131 SCt 2419, 180 LE2d
    285) (2011).
    9
    evidence in this case. As a result, Davis does not apply and the
    State’s argument fails. Accordingly, we affirm the trial court’s order
    granting Wilson’s motion to suppress.
    Judgment affirmed. All the Justices concur, except LaGrua,
    J., who concurs in judgment only.
    10
    PETERSON, Presiding Justice, concurring.
    I fully agree that the trial court correctly suppressed evidence
    derived from the general warrants issued in this case. I write
    separately to highlight that our cases involving so-called “residual
    clauses” (i.e., boilerplate language purporting to limit officers to
    searching and seizing “other items related to the crime [at issue],”
    Reaves v. State, 
    284 Ga. 181
    , 185 (2) (d) (
    664 SE2d 211
    ) (2009)), may
    be unduly complicating the issue.
    “The problem posed by the general warrant is not that of
    intrusion per se, but of a general, exploratory rummaging in a
    person’s belongings. The Fourth Amendment addresses the problem
    by requiring a ‘particular description’ of the things to be seized.”
    Andresen v. Maryland, 
    427 U.S. 463
    , 480 (96 SCt 2737, 49 LE2d 627)
    (1976) (cleaned up) (quoting Coolidge v. New Hampshire, 
    403 U.S. 443
    , 467 (91 SCt 2022, 29 LE2d 564) (1971)). In practice, that
    requirement means that the warrant allows the officer to identify
    the object of the search or seizure “definitely and with reasonable
    certainty.” Hourin v. State, 
    301 Ga. 835
    , 844 (3) (b) (
    804 SE2d 388
    )
    11
    (2017) (citation and punctuation omitted). Naturally, the degree of
    specificity required “will vary with the circumstances involved.” 
    Id.
    But a general, catch-all phrase (a “residual clause”) in the
    description of places to be searched or things to be seized does not
    necessarily invalidate an otherwise proper warrant. In Andresen,
    the United States Supreme Court rejected an argument that
    warrants that were otherwise “models of particularity . . . were
    rendered fatally ‘general’ by the addition . . . of the phrase ‘together
    with other fruits, instrumentalities, and evidence of crime at this
    (time) unknown.’” 
    427 U.S. at 480
    . The petitioner argued that this
    clause, read in isolation, permitted the search for and seizure of any
    evidence of any crime. See 
    id. at 479
    . But the Court read the phrase
    in context, explaining that “the challenged phrase” — that is, the
    residual clause — “must be read as authorizing only the search for
    and seizure of evidence relating to the crime of false pretenses
    [alleged in that case].” 
    Id. at 480
     (internal quotation marks omitted).
    “The warrants, accordingly, did not authorize the executing officers
    to conduct a search for evidence of other crimes but only to search
    12
    for and seize evidence relevant to the crime [charged.]” 
    Id.
     at 481-
    82. Thus, Andresen teaches that residual clauses do not necessarily
    render an otherwise particularized warrant an unconstitutional
    general warrant.
    For a time, we correctly applied that holding. See Lance v.
    State, 
    275 Ga. 11
    , 21 (19) (b) (
    560 SE2d 663
    ) (2002) (the warrant was
    sufficiently particularized despite using the phrase “‘any other fruits
    of the crime of murder’” where those words were preceded by a list
    of specified items, because “the quoted phrase [was best] understood
    as limiting the search to items . . . reasonably appearing to be
    connected to the specific crime delineated in the warrant” and “the
    nature of the probable evidence”), disapproved on other grounds by
    Willis v. State, 
    304 Ga. 686
    , 706 n.3 (11) (a) (
    820 SE2d 640
    ) (2018));
    Reaves, 
    284 Ga. at 184-88
     (2) (d) (four search warrants specifying
    certain items followed by different residual clauses covering “‘any
    other item of evidence,” “any other item of evidentiary value,” and
    “any trace evidence” that would show that the named crime had
    been committed were not impermissible general warrants, and so
    13
    “provided [adequate] guidelines for the officers conducting the
    search”) (citations omitted); see also Lawler v. State, 
    276 Ga. 229
    ,
    233 (4) (c) (
    576 SE2d 841
    ) (2003) (objects of a search warrant for
    “‘guns, ammunition, clothing, shoes, and other related items to the
    crime of murder,’” were “described with sufficient particularity”).
    But in the last few years, our cases have begun to suggest that
    an otherwise general warrant might be made particularized by a
    residual clause. In Rickman v. State, 
    309 Ga. 38
    , 42 (2) (
    842 SE2d 289
    ) (2020), for example, we cited Reaves (our seminal residual
    clause case) for the proposition that “warrants containing residual
    clauses limiting the items to be seized to those relevant to the crimes
    identified are sufficiently particular and do not authorize a general
    search in violation of the Fourth Amendment.” But when we applied
    that principle to the facts in that case, we held that “the warrants
    [there], read as a whole,” sufficiently “limited the search of the
    contents of Rickman’s cell phones to items reasonably appearing to
    be connected to [the victim’s] murder.” 
    Id.
     In other words, we seemed
    to suggest that the residual clause of the warrant (covering “any
    14
    other evidence of the crime of murder” after a list of specific items
    like messages, photographs, and videos) was a reason to find the rest
    of the description sufficiently particular. See also Palmer v. State,
    
    310 Ga. 668
    , 675 (2) (c) (
    853 SE2d 650
    ) (2021) (“‘Read in a common-
    sense fashion and in the context of the preceding list of items and
    the residual clause,’ warrants limiting items to be seized to those
    relevant to enumerated crimes ‘have sufficient specificity, satisfying
    the particularity requirement of the Fourth Amendment.’” (quoting
    Reaves, 284 Ga. at 188)); Westbrook v. State, 
    308 Ga. 92
    , 97-98 & n.5
    (3) (a) (
    839 SE2d 620
    ) (2020) (search warrant describing “Phone
    identification data, Phone number assigned to the unit, Address
    book, Incoming and outgoing call logs, Incoming and outgoing SMS
    text logs,” and “Electronic data” on cell phone was sufficiently
    particularized in context “to enable a prudent officer to know to look
    for photographs and videos stored on Westbrook’s cell phone,”
    especially because the warrant “limited the scope of the search to
    evidence pertaining to the commission of the murder” — so
    ineffectiveness claim failed since the objection would have been
    15
    meritless); Leili v. State, 
    307 Ga. 339
    , 344 (2) (a) (
    834 SE2d 847
    )
    (2019) (a warrant that authorized search and seizure of “all
    electronic devices which are capable of analyzing, creating,
    displaying, converting, transmitting or storing electronic or
    computer impulses or data” was sufficiently particularized because
    “when read as a whole, ‘the warrant here must be understood as
    limiting the search to items (in addition to the items specifically
    mentioned in the warrant) reasonably appearing to be connected to
    the specific crimes delineated in the warrant.” (citations and
    punctuation omitted, cleaned up)).
    I joined each of these decisions. But upon further consideration,
    I am concerned that we may have mistaken the import of the
    relevant principles.
    First, the Supreme Court in Andresen held only that an
    otherwise particularized warrant was not made unconstitutionally
    general by the presence of residual language — instead, the residual
    clause had to be read in the light of the language before it. 
    427 U.S. at 480-482
    . But the inverse does not follow; the logic of Andresen
    16
    does not support the idea that an otherwise general warrant, lacking
    particularity in the places to be searched or things to be seized, can
    be saved by this sort of boilerplate language.5 Taking the warrants
    in this case as an example, a warrant that fails to give any
    parameters “for a forensic examination” of cell phones is not
    narrowed by the empty assurance that the search will only be
    looking for evidence of a particular crime. Perhaps such a warrant
    may once have been sufficient, when cell phones had a fraction of
    the functionality and storage capacity that they do now. But today,
    a caveat that the search is limited to evidence of a particular crime
    might narrow the object of the search, but it gives little or no clarity
    to an officer as to where to look, for what to look, or how to look for
    it. See Hourin, 
    301 Ga. at 844
    .
    And second, we appear to have lost sight of the fact that the
    5 This misstep may have stemmed from a slight ambiguity in the wording
    of Reaves. We held that “[t]he residual clauses in the search warrants at issue
    in this case limit the items which may be seized to evidence of cruelty to
    children and . . . murder.” 284 Ga. at 215. In context, that meant that the
    residual clauses themselves were limited to evidence of those crimes. See id.
    But it’s easy enough to see how one might mistakenly read this language —
    specifically the direct object, “items” — to mean the list of items preceding the
    residual clauses. And indeed, that seems to be what we’ve done in recent years.
    17
    actual words of the warrant matter; not all clauses do the same
    work. In fact, several of these cases do not actually involve “residual
    clauses” at all, at least as Andresen and Reaves used that term. The
    warrant in Palmer “authorized the search and seizure of ‘[a]ny
    fingerprints, any and all firearms, any and all ammunition, shell
    casings, identification cards, receipts, photos, hand written
    statements, cell phones (to include all data contained therein),
    currency, and any and all blood evidence, and DNA, which are being
    possessed in Violation of Georgia Law(s): O.C.G.A. [§] 16-5-1
    Murder.’” 310 Ga. at 675 (2) (c) (emphasis supplied); see also Leili,
    307 Ga. at 344 (the warrant used broad language like “all electronic
    devices which are capable of analyzing, creating, displaying,
    converting, transmitting or storing electronic or computer impulses
    or data,” but no catch-all residual clause); Westbrook, 308 Ga. at 97-
    98 & n.5 (the warrant described, among other things, “electronic
    data,” and “limited the scope of the search to evidence pertaining to
    the commission of the murder”). So the language at the end of the
    Palmer warrant modifies the rest of the list, it does not add items to
    18
    it. And yet this group of cases relies on residual clause precedents
    like Reaves, misunderstanding their holdings and muddying the
    waters on the effect of a true residual clause.
    The warrants in Andresen and Reaves, by contrast, featured
    catch-all language, not a modifying clause. Andresen, 
    427 U.S. at 480
     (“together with other fruits, instrumentalities, and evidence of
    crime at this (time) unknown”); Reaves, 
    284 Ga. at 185
     (residual
    clause covering “‘any other item(s) that tend to lead to probable
    cause that [a particular] crime has been committed’”). So it is a
    different matter to say that the search warrants in cases like Palmer
    are not “general” because they “list[] classes of items that, as a
    practical matter, were likely to be found relevant to the shooting . .
    . and the removal of [the victim’s body] to the location where it was
    found.” 310 Ga. at 675 (2) (c). In that context, a phrase like “[items]
    which are being possessed in Violation of Georgia Law(s)” actually
    does modify (and perhaps in some marginal sense could limit) the
    19
    enumerated items. 6 Id. It seems to me, therefore, that the words of
    the warrant matter more than our recent cases reflect.
    Our “residual clause” cases, in short, have started to suggest a
    different proposition than the principle upon which they are based,
    and applied it to a broader spectrum of language than the principle
    covers. The Court today properly rejects the State’s bid to save the
    warrants here by reference to pre-printed language only distantly
    resembling a residual clause. But in an appropriate case, we may
    need to reconsider some of our related precedent.
    I am authorized to state that Chief Justice Boggs, Justice
    Warren, Justice Bethel, Justice Colvin, and Justice Pinson join in
    this concurrence.
    6 Although I’m skeptical that this was the case with the actual language
    used in Palmer. What it means to possess an item in violation of the law
    prohibiting murder is wholly unclear to me; that statute does not prohibit the
    possession of anything. Once again, it matters what actual language a warrant
    uses.
    20
    LAGRUA, Justice, concurring in judgment only.
    In Riley, the United States Supreme Court provided clear
    guidance: “Our answer to the question of what police must do before
    searching a cell phone seized incident to an arrest is accordingly
    simple—get a warrant.” Riley, 573 U.S. at 403 (IV). Warrants, of
    course, require probable cause. See id. at 381 (quoting U.S. Const.,
    amend. IV). “To determine whether probable cause exists, the
    magistrate must review the search-warrant application and make a
    practical,   common-sense     decision   whether,    given   all   the
    circumstances set forth in the affidavit before him, there is a fair
    probability that contraband or evidence of a crime will be found in a
    particular place.” Willis v. State, ___ Ga. ___ (4) (c) (
    880 SE2d 158
    ,
    168) (Oct. 25, 2022) (citation and punctuation omitted).
    I am quite skeptical that the warrant in this case contained
    sufficient probable cause because it merely stated that a suspect had
    been arrested, a cell phone was discovered in his vehicle, and in the
    law enforcement officer’s general “knowledge, training, and
    experience investigating violent crimes and homicides, [he was]
    21
    aware that perpetrators commonly use their cell phones to
    communicate about crimes.” This case illustrates a troublesome
    issue post-Riley, which is that many law enforcement officers believe
    that when a cell phone is discovered during the course of an
    investigation, probable cause simply exists to search it. I remind the
    government that the affidavit in support of the search warrant
    application should establish a link showing that the phone was used
    to facilitate, commit, or cover up the crime. See United States v.
    Mathis, 767 F3d 1264, 1276 (II) (A) (1) (11th Cir. 2014) (“[A]n
    affidavit should establish a connection between the defendant and
    the property to be searched and a link between the property and any
    criminal activity.” (abrogated on other grounds by Lockhart v.
    United States, 
    577 U.S. 347
     (136 SCt 958, 194 LE2d 48) (2016)
    (citation and punctuation omitted; emphasis supplied)). And, judges
    are entrusted to uphold the law requiring this link. But, because I
    agree with the majority opinion’s ultimate conclusion affirming the
    trial court’s order granting Wilson’s motion to suppress, I concur in
    judgment only.
    22
    PINSON, Justice, concurring.
    We need to talk about cell phones.
    In Riley v. California, 
    573 U.S. 373
     (134 SCt 2473, 189 LE2d
    430) (2014), the United States Supreme Court took a small step
    down the road of applying the Fourth Amendment to the modern cell
    phone. Riley addressed the question whether the police could,
    without a warrant, search digital information on a cell phone seized
    from someone who’d been arrested. The answer was no: to search a
    cell phone incident to arrest, you generally need to “get a warrant.”
    Id. at 403. That holding was important on its own, and it gave
    needed guidance to both law enforcement and courts. See, e.g.,
    Hawkins v. State, 
    290 Ga. 785
     (
    723 SE2d 924
    ) (2012) (pre-Riley,
    holding that police could search a cell phone incident to an arrest
    without a warrant), abrogated by Riley, 
    573 U.S. 373
    .
    But there is more to Riley. Along the way to its straightforward
    holding, Riley addressed the nature of modern cell phones and how
    to view them for purposes of applying the Fourth Amendment. This
    reasoning was central to Riley’s holding, and it demands careful
    23
    attention in cases like this one and others in which the Fourth
    Amendment and cell phones intersect.
    Before Riley, courts (including ours) often applied the Fourth
    Amendment to cell phones as if they were little different from
    articles or containers found on or near someone’s person. See, e.g.,
    Hawkins, 
    290 Ga. 785
    ; United States v. Finley, 477 F3d 250, 260 (5th
    Cir. 2007), overruled by Riley, 
    573 U.S. 373
    ; United States v. Deans,
    549 FSupp.2d 1085, 1094 (D. Minn. 2008), overruled by Riley, 
    573 U.S. 373
    . That was why courts would conclude that police could
    search them without a warrant if they were seized incident to an
    arrest: United States Supreme Court precedent had long allowed
    such warrantless searches of personal property—like clothes,
    cigarette packs, wallets, and purses—found on or near an arrestee.
    See United States v. Robinson, 
    414 U.S. 218
     (94 SCt 467, 38 LEd2d
    427) (1973); Chimel v. California, 
    395 U.S. 752
     (89 SCt 2034, 23
    LE2d 685) (1969).
    Riley rejected this understanding of cell phones. Indeed, the
    Riley Court supposed treating cell phones like other physical items
    24
    that could be found on a person was “like saying a ride on horseback
    is materially indistinguishable from a flight to the moon. Both are
    ways of getting from point A to point B, but little else justifies
    lumping them together.” Riley, 573 U.S. at 393. That is because
    “[m]odern cell phones, as a category, implicate privacy concerns far
    beyond those implicated by the search of a cigarette pack, a wallet,
    or a purse.” Id. Today’s “phones” are “in fact minicomputers” that
    serve not only as telephones, but also as “cameras, video players,
    rolodexes, calendars, tape recorders, libraries, diaries, albums,
    televisions, maps, or newspapers”; they have “immense storage
    capacity” to support these functions and store other data like
    “Internet search and browsing history,” “[h]istoric location
    information,” and other “app” data; and they collect these “many
    distinct types of information” “in one place,” dating “back to the
    purchase of the phone, or even earlier.” Id. at 393-396.
    Based on all of this, the Court reasoned that the “consequences
    for privacy” of searching a cell phone are substantial. Unlike a
    search of a wallet or purse or cigarette pack, searching a cell phone
    25
    can allow police to “reconstruct” “the sum of an individual’s private
    life” going back months or even years, potentially revealing
    someone’s “private interests or concerns,” “specific movements down
    to the minute, not only around town but also within a particular
    building,” and a “montage of the user’s life” from whatever apps the
    person happens to use. Id. at 394-396. And cell phones are “now such
    a pervasive and insistent part of daily life that the proverbial visitor
    from Mars might conclude they were an important feature of human
    anatomy.” Id. at 385; see also id. at 395 (“[I]t is no exaggeration to
    say that many of the more than 90% of American adults who own a
    cell phone keep on their person a digital record of nearly every
    aspect of their lives—from the mundane to the intimate.”);
    Carpenter v. United States, 138 SCt 2206, 2211 (201 LE2d 507)
    (2018) (“There are 396 million cell phone service accounts in the
    United States—for a Nation of 326 million people.”).
    In light of these unique characteristics of modern cell phones
    and their “consequences for privacy,” the Court held that police
    generally need to “get a warrant” to search one. Riley, 573 U.S. at
    26
    394, 403. But it is pretty hard to read all of the reasons Riley gave
    for this holding and come away thinking that the rest of the Fourth
    Amendment is business as usual when it comes to cell phones.
    Again, the big premise of Riley was that searching a cell phone is
    not much at all like searching a pocket or a purse. “Indeed, a cell
    phone search would typically expose to the government far more
    than the most exhaustive search of a house: A phone not only
    contains in digital form many sensitive records previously found in
    the home; it also contains a broad array of private information never
    found in a home in any form—unless the phone is.” Id. at 396-397
    (emphasis added). And as a general matter, the Fourth Amendment
    “was the founding generation’s response to the reviled ‘general
    warrants’ and ‘writs of assistance’ of the colonial era, which allowed
    British officers to rummage through homes in an unrestrained
    search for evidence of criminal activity.” Id. at 403. The issue is
    apparent. If a cell phone is a handheld “house” and may hold the
    sum total of one’s private “papers” and “effects,” then a search of that
    device or a seizure of its contents that lacks appropriate restraints
    27
    seems little different from the general searches that the Fourth
    Amendment unequivocally forbids. 7
    Take the search warrant in this case. As far as I can tell, that
    warrant allowed the search and seizure of the data from two cell
    phones on the theory that (1) they were found in the suspect’s van,
    and (2) criminals commonly use cell phones to talk about crimes.
    And the scope of the authorized search and seizure looks unlimited:
    police could search and seize the entire contents of the phones, with
    no apparent restrictions on the type or category of data or
    information that could be seized, or on how any of that data or
    information could be used. A warrant supported by such generic
    “probable cause” to search someone’s house and seize the entirety of
    its contents, with no restrictions on their use, would never fly. See,
    e.g., Bryant v. State, 
    301 Ga. 617
    , 619-620 & n.3 (2) (
    800 SE2d 537
    )
    7 The nature of cell phones also raises questions about how to apply
    OCGA § 17-5-21, which describes the kinds of things that a warrant can
    authorize seizure of. For example, that statute treats “private papers”
    differently than some other types of evidence. See id. § (a) (5), (b). What
    information on a cell phone, if any, counts as “private papers” subject to this
    statute’s limitations?
    28
    (2017) (warrant that named house and cars to be searched but did
    not specify items or evidence sought violated particularity
    requirement); United States v. Travers, 233 F3d 1327, 1330 (11th
    Cir. 2000) (warrant that authorized seizure of all “material
    reflecting identity” and “anything reflecting potential fraud”
    violated particularity requirement); State v. Rothman, 
    779 P2d 1
    , 3,
    9, 10-11 (Haw. 1989) (holding that warrant that authorized the
    seizure of all items in a home that related to the defendant’s
    financials or that tended to show his identity violated particularity
    requirement and explaining, “If the authorities have only to say ‘I
    have reason to believe that X has committed a crime based on what
    Y has told me’ to get authorization to search X’s home for anything
    and everything X possesses, then no one’s papers or possessions are
    safe”). Yet I suspect that such warrants for cell-phone data remain
    all too common, even in Riley’s wake.
    Of course, part of the reason for that is Riley itself. Riley’s “get
    a warrant” holding was more or less a mic drop, and the Court has
    29
    yet to return for an encore.8 But in the meantime, people haven’t
    stopped using cell phones or committing crimes (would that it were
    so!). And cell-phone technology keeps advancing, adding both to the
    value of cell phones for law enforcement seeking to combat crime,
    and to the privacy consequences the Court worried about.9 The
    Court may say more someday about just how the Fourth
    Amendment applies to and limits warrants for cell-phone data, but
    until then, our courts must grapple with these questions, in light of
    Riley, ourselves.
    Today’s decision is a start. The Court holds that a warrant to
    search and seize “any and all” data stored on a cell phone, not even
    limited to evidence of the crime at issue, with no specificity about
    how any of the data could be used, violates the Fourth Amendment’s
    8  To be fair, the Court has since Riley addressed related questions about
    cell-site location information, or CSLI. See Carpenter v. United States, 
    138 S. Ct. 2206
    , 2220 (201 LE2d 507) (2018) (holding that acquiring CSLI is a search
    and generally requires a warrant supported by probable cause).
    9 For example, the Riley Court pointed out at the time that “[t]he current
    top-selling smart phone has a standard capacity of 16 gigabytes,” which
    “translates to millions of pages of text, thousands of pictures, or hundreds of
    videos.” Id. at 394. Some popular smart phones today come with up to one
    terabyte—1000 gigabytes—of storage capacity.
    30
    particularity requirement. To be sure, the warrant here has a veneer
    of particularity to it: the description of the “things to be seized” listed
    “any and all stored electronic information, including but not limited
    to” specific kinds of data like images, text messages, videos, and
    internet activity. In a way, this description arguably “enabled a
    prudent officer to locate” the things to be seized “definitely and with
    reasonable certainty,” which is how the particularity requirement
    typically prevents the fishing expeditions that the Fourth
    Amendment protects against. See Fair v. State, 
    284 Ga. 165
    , 170 (3)
    (a) (
    664 SE2d 227
    ) (2008) (cleaned up). See also Orin S.
    Kerr, Executing Warrants for Digital Evidence: The Case for Use
    Restrictions on Nonresponsive Data, 
    48 Tex. Tech L. Rev. 1
    , 3 (2015)
    (citing Stanford v. Texas, 
    379 U.S. 476
    , 480-486 (85 SCt 506, 13
    LE2d 431) (1965) (explaining that the idea behind the Fourth
    Amendment’s particularity requirement was to prevent the general
    search by “limiting where agents can go and what they can take”)).
    But if an officer could understand what to search for and seize from
    the phones here, that was only because the sheer breadth of the
    31
    warrant’s description didn’t allow for the officer to be wrong: the
    warrant “specified” that the “things to be seized” included every bit
    of data an officer might find on the phone. Our rejection of that basis
    for demonstrating particularity is rooted in the unique nature of
    modern cell phones, including their “immense” capacity to store
    information of all kinds—analogous to cramming the entirety of
    one’s life into a small slab of plastic, metal, glass, and silicon. When
    we view cell phones through that lens, the closest analogy I can come
    up with is a warrant to search a house and seize “any and all atoms
    of matter stored within, including but not limited to matter in solid,
    liquid, and gaseous states.” I suppose an officer would know what to
    search for and seize based on that description, too. But both that
    hypothetical warrant and its digital equivalent here authorize a
    forbidden general search, and our decision today rightly concludes
    as much.
    But there are plenty more questions where that one came from.
    Stay with particularity for a moment. Some of this Court’s post-Riley
    decisions have concluded that warrants with similarly broad
    32
    descriptions of the cell-phone data to be searched and seized were
    sufficiently particular because the warrant as a whole could be read
    to narrow the scope of the search to evidence of the crimes in
    question. See Rickman v. State, 
    309 Ga. 38
     (
    842 SE2d 289
    ) (2020);
    Westbrook v. State, 
    308 Ga. 92
     (
    839 SE2d 620
    ) (2020); Leili v. State,
    
    307 Ga. 339
     (
    834 SE2d 847
    ) (2019). But none of these decisions even
    mentions, much less accounts for, the characteristics of modern cell
    phones that Riley found critical to its Fourth Amendment analysis. 10
    As the Presiding Justice notes in his concurrence, it is not clear that
    warrants that allow police to search every bit of data on a cell phone
    necessarily avoid an unconstitutional general search merely by
    telling police to look only for unspecified evidence of the crime in
    question. At the least, we ought to be looking at questions like this
    through the same lens Riley did—that is, one that accounts for the
    uniquely expansive and complex nature of cell-phone data. See, e.g.,
    Kerr at 3 (“The facts of computer storage threaten [the particularity
    10Only one of these decisions cited Riley, and then only because it relied
    on our decision in Hawkins, 
    290 Ga. 785
    , which was abrogated by Riley. See
    Westbrook, 308 Ga. at 98 (3) (a).
    33
    requirement’s] limiting role. They create the prospect that computer
    warrants that are specific on their face will resemble general
    warrants in execution simply because of the new technological
    environment.”).
    Then there’s probable cause. I would not be surprised if many
    warrants to search cell phones are based on a set of facts much like
    the one here: the police have enough evidence to suspect someone of
    a crime; they know that person has a cell phone, or they find one in
    his vicinity or possession; and an officer avers that based on her
    training and experience, criminals commonly use cell phones to plan
    or talk about crimes. On its face, it is not crazy to think that a
    warrant application along these lines could support probable cause.
    The probable-cause question is a “practical, common-sense decision
    whether, given all the circumstances set forth in the affidavit before
    [the magistrate], there is a fair probability that contraband or
    evidence of a crime will be found in a particular place.” Willis v.
    State, 
    315 Ga. 19
    , 29-30 (4) (c) (
    880 SE2d 158
    ) (2022). If the evidence
    in a given case is good enough to suspect someone of a crime, it may
    34
    well be true that the person did plan or talk about or otherwise put
    evidence of the crime on his cell phone, and I do not doubt that the
    experience of many police officers bears that out. And in fact, quite
    a few courts have upheld probable-cause determinations on similar
    bases—albeit ones with perhaps a bit more specificity than the
    warrant application offered in this case. See, e.g., State v. Goynes,
    
    927 NW2d 346
    , 354 (Neb. 2019) (finding probable cause to search
    cell phone based on officer’s training and experience, where officer
    “explained that cell phone data provides insight for criminal
    investigations in that cell phones are used for communication,
    access to information, socialization, research, entertainment,
    shopping, and other functionality and that these uses are often
    found to be tools in criminal activity,” that “the data from cell phones
    can provide information on the motivation, method, and participants
    involved in a crime,” and that “he was aware of numerous instances
    where cell phones were used by participants in crimes to
    communicate through voice and text messaging, take photographs
    of themselves with weapons or illegal narcotics, create videos of
    35
    their criminal activity, and research crimes in which they
    participated”); Moats v. State, 168 A3d 952, 955, 962-963 (Md. 2017)
    (collecting other cases where officer’s expertise was relied on to
    establish probable cause that defendant’s cell phone would contain
    evidence of crime and finding probable cause where officer, a 17-year
    veteran of drug enforcement, stated that he “knows through his
    training and experience as a Criminal Investigator that individuals
    who participate in such crimes communicate via cellular telephones,
    via text messages, call, e-mail etc.”); Stevenson v. State, 168 A3d 967,
    975-977 (Md. 2017) (probable cause to search cell phone of
    defendant, arrested for robbery-assault, where detective’s affidavit
    explained “that suspects in robberies and assaults will sometimes
    take pictures, videos and send messages about their criminal
    activities on their cellular phones”); United States v. Mathis, 767
    F3d 1264, 1269, 1275-1276 (11th Cir. 2014) (probable cause to
    search defendant’s cell phone about calls years earlier because,
    “based on [the officer’s] knowledge, experience and training,”
    individuals who sexually abuse children sometimes keep copies of
    36
    communications with their victims “for many years”); State v.
    Henderson, 
    854 NW2d 616
    , 632 (Neb. 2014) (probable cause to
    search defendant’s cell phone where “two men committed the
    shootings” and defendant was “seen running from the scene,” as
    affiant stated “that in his experience as a detective, he knew that
    suspects used cell phones to communicate about shootings they have
    been involved in before, during, and after the shootings”).
    And yet it is not so easy to square that permissive view of
    probable cause for cell-phone search warrants with Riley. First
    return to the cell-phones-as-houses analogy: An officer might also
    reasonably say that in her experience, criminals often store evidence
    of their crimes—cash, weapons, drug paraphernalia, and more—
    where they live. Yet “[p]robable cause to believe that a man has
    committed a crime on the street does not necessarily give rise to
    probable cause to search his home.” Commonwealth of Pennsylvania
    v. Kline, 
    335 A2d 361
    , 364 (Pa. Super. 1975). See also Banks v. State,
    
    277 Ga. 543
    , 546-47 (2) (
    592 SE2d 668
    ) (2004) (evidence implicating
    defendant in drug dealing was not sufficient to establish probable
    37
    cause to search his home for drugs); Shivers v. State, 
    258 Ga. App. 253
    , 255 (
    573 SE2d 494
    ) (2002) (probable cause to believe defendant
    was selling crack cocaine did not on its own furnish probable cause
    to search his home); Kelleher v. State, 
    185 Ga. App. 774
    , 777 (1) (
    365 SE2d 889
    ) (1988) (holding that even assuming there was “probable
    cause for a belief that the appellants were involved in drug
    trafficking,” that information did not establish probable cause to
    search their residence); United States v. Jones, 994 F2d 1051, 1055
    (3d Cir. 1993) (“[P]robable cause to arrest does not automatically
    provide probable cause to search the arrestee’s home.”). Instead,
    courts typically require something a little more specific and concrete
    to provide “a substantial basis for concluding that a search would
    uncover evidence of wrongdoing” in the suspect’s home. Marlow v.
    State, 
    288 Ga. 769
    , 771 (
    707 SE2d 95
    ) (2011) (citation and
    punctuation omitted) (finding probable cause existed for search of
    defendant’s home for keys to stolen car, where stolen car was in the
    driveway locked and with alarm activated and the defendant was
    seen inside the home but refused to answer the door). See also, e.g.,
    38
    Boldin v. State, 
    282 Ga. App. 492
    , 493-495 (2) (
    639 SE2d 522
    ) (2006)
    (concluding probable cause existed for search of defendant’s home
    for drugs, where officer detected odor of burning marijuana coming
    from open garage door and, when officer approached to identify
    himself, defendant grabbed a garbage bag off the floor and ran into
    house, dropping a zip-lock bag appearing to contain marijuana
    residue); Perkins v. State, 
    220 Ga. App. 524
    , 525 (1) (
    469 SE2d 796
    )
    (1996) (finding probable cause for search of defendant’s home where
    confidential informant had conducted controlled buy of marijuana at
    the home, as well as probable cause to search defendant’s second
    home, based on the results of the search at the first home coupled
    with information from the informant that defendant was growing
    marijuana at both homes); Jones, 994 F2d at 1056 (finding
    substantial basis to support probable cause to search arrestee’s
    home for money, clothes, and guns because “cash is the type of loot
    that criminals seek to hide in secure places like their homes”; two
    weeks between the crime and the search was “long enough to enable
    the defendants to hide the cash” and “not so long as to dispel the
    39
    likelihood that it would still be in their residences”; and “the other
    items sought, clothing and firearms, are also the types of evidence
    likely to be kept in a suspect’s residence”). Sure, cell phones are not
    in fact houses, so the analysis might differ in some particulars. But
    after Riley, it is not clear why cell phones would not be treated in
    similar fashion.
    If not—if this generic “criminals use cell phones, too” logic is
    enough for probable cause to get a warrant to search a suspect’s cell
    phone—it is hard to imagine a case in which police cannot get that
    warrant. As Riley reasoned in declining to apply the search-incident-
    to-arrest exception to the warrant requirement, “[i]t would be a
    particularly inexperienced or unimaginative law enforcement officer
    who could not come up with several reasons to suppose evidence of
    just about any crime could be found on a cell phone.” Riley, 573 U.S.
    at 399. But if that’s enough for probable cause, it would make Riley
    little more than a paperwork requirement. Maybe, but I am not so
    sure that Riley’s holding is so “hollow.” United States v. Morton, 46
    F4th 331, 340 (5th Cir. 2022) (Higginson, J., concurring in judgment)
    40
    (“Riley requires that officers first get a warrant, but if the fact that
    the arrestee was carrying a cell phone at the time of arrest is
    sufficient to support probable cause for a search, then the warrant
    requirement is merely a paperwork requirement. It cannot be
    that Riley’s holding is so hollow.”) (citation omitted). In any event,
    probable cause too requires careful thought when cell phones are the
    target.
    And what about the “plain view” exception? When an officer
    executing an otherwise valid search warrant finds in plain view
    incriminating evidence that is outside the scope of the warrant, this
    exception says he may still seize the evidence without a warrant and
    use it even to investigate and prosecute other crimes. 11 See, e.g.,
    George v. State, 
    312 Ga. 801
    , 804-805 (
    865 SE2d 127
    ) (2021)
    (explaining that a police officer may seize evidence outside the scope
    of a search warrant if the evidence is in plain view, the officer has
    not violated the Fourth Amendment in arriving at the place from
    11 In Georgia, a person’s “private papers” are carved out from seizure
    under this exception by statute. See OCGA § 17-5-21 (b).
    41
    which he sees the evidence, and the incriminating nature of the
    evidence is “immediately apparent” (citing Horton v. California, 
    496 U.S. 128
     (110 SCt 2301, 110 LE2d 112) (1990))). How does this
    doctrine translate to a forensic search of a cell phone? The nature of
    searching electronic data is such that officers executing a carefully
    particularized warrant may well have to view a vast amount of
    nonresponsive data to find even information they’re properly
    authorized to seize—especially when the data they’re looking for is
    hidden or obfuscated. See, e.g., Kerr at 16-17. Is all of that
    nonresponsive data fair game for seizure and later use? Given the
    massive amounts and endless variations of data that cell phones can
    store, there is no ready analogue in the physical world, and yet
    significant consequences for law enforcement and privacy hang in
    the balance. 12
    12 For one prominent Fourth Amendment scholar’s view on this issue,
    see Kerr generally and at 18-27 (proposing that the “plain view” exception still
    applies to searches of digital information, but later use of nonresponsive data
    “renders the ongoing seizure [of that data] unreasonable”).
    42
    I could go on, but you get the point: Riley made unmistakably
    clear that when it comes to applying the Fourth Amendment,
    modern cell phones are not just another physical object. So going
    forward, all of the courts of our State (including this one) should
    acknowledge and account for their unique nature when questions
    like these arise. In doing so, the pace of technological change
    requires us to “tread carefully” so we do not “embarrass the future.”
    Carpenter, 138 SCt at 2220 (quoting Northwest Airlines, Inc. v.
    Minnesota, 
    322 U.S. 292
    , 300 (64 SCt 950, 88 LEd 1283 (1944)). But
    tread we must.
    With these things in mind, I concur in the majority’s opinion. I
    am authorized to state that Chief Justice Boggs and Justice Warren
    join in this concurrence.
    43