The sex offense registry is usually presented as a rigid, unforgiving system: if you’re on it, you’re on it for life, and that’s that. But what happens in states where judges have discretion in deciding who must register? If a judge can choose to put you on the registry, does it logically follow that they should also be able to choose to take you off?

This question came from a listener of the Registry Matters podcast, based on an article in the AZ Mirror about Arizona’s registration laws. The listener noticed that a judge emphasized “conviction” and protecting the “children” (or as humorously phrased in the show, “chirrens”)—and wondered what that means for people whose registration requirement wasn’t automatic, but imposed at the judge’s discretion.

In this article, we’ll unpack that logic, explain how discretionary registration works, and explore whether it creates a pathway for people to petition their way off the registry. We’ll also address the hard truth about litigation: why even a strong legal theory runs into the brick wall of cost, time, and access to lawyers.

By the end, you’ll understand:

  • How Arizona’s discretionary registration scheme operates
  • Why the “if they can put me on, why can’t they take me off?” argument is logically strong
  • What kind of legal mechanism might be used to test this idea
  • The practical barriers that make such challenges rare

Discretionary Registration: When It’s Not Just About the Conviction

In many states, the requirement to register as a person forced to register (PFR) flows directly from the statute: if you’re convicted of a listed offense, registration is automatic. There is no hearing, no individualized judgment, no weighing of circumstances. The offense is on the list; therefore you are on the registry.

Arizona, however, is different in a key way. Like a number of other states, Arizona allows registration to be imposed not only based on certain enumerated offenses, but also based on an independent determination that a crime was sexually motivated.

This means:

  • The underlying conviction might not be a “sex offense” by name.
  • The court can look at the facts and decide the conduct was sexual in nature.
  • Based on that determination, the court can order registration.

On the Registry Matters episode, this was contrasted with another state where “it has to be on the list” to be registrable. There, nothing beyond the statutory list counts. In Arizona, the judge’s added finding about sexual motivation opens a discretionary door.

That discretionary element is exactly what caught the listener’s attention.

The Listener’s Core Question: Does Discretion Cut Both Ways?

The listener essentially asked:

If the requirement to register is based on conviction and not discretion, fine. But if the judge had discretion to impose registration because the offense was sexual in nature, shouldn’t people in that situation be able to petition to remove the registration requirement?

Reframed more bluntly:

  • If the law allows a judge to choose to put you on the registry,
  • Why can’t that same judge choose to take you off later, especially if the offense wasn’t a categorically listed sexual offense or didn’t involve children?

On a purely logical level, the podcast’s legal analyst agreed: the listener’s logic is “fairly solid” and “sound.” The idea is simple and intuitive:

“If I can hire you, I can unhire you.”

Applied here:

If the judge can put you on the registry, the judge should be able to un-put you.

This is not just rhetorical flair; it reflects a deep legal intuition about symmetry in the use of judicial discretion.

Why the Logic Makes Sense Legally

Let’s break down why that reasoning resonates:

  1. Statutory Grant of Discretion
    If the legislature says, in effect: “For offenses that are sexual in nature, the court may order registration,” it has conferred a discretionary power on the judge. That power is not mechanical; it depends on a judgment call.

  2. Discretion Implies Individualized Decision-Making
    When a judge has discretion, they’re supposed to weigh circumstances, facts, risk, and other considerations. That is fundamentally different from automatic, list-based registration.

  3. If the State Justifies Registration by Individual Assessment…
    …then it is not a big logical stretch to say the court should be able to reassess later. If an individualized decision was legitimate to impose the burden, why wouldn’t an individualized re-decision be legitimate to remove it, especially after time has passed and circumstances have changed?

  4. Consistency With Equitable Principles
    Courts routinely modify orders they imposed using discretion: probation conditions, injunctions, parenting plans, supervised release. The notion that some discretionary orders can be revisited is deeply baked into how courts function.

So as a theory, the argument that judges should have reciprocal discretion to remove people from the registry who were placed there by discretionary decision is far from frivolous. It has real legal teeth.

The Harsh Reality: Sound Logic Isn’t Enough

Despite agreeing that the logic is solid, the podcast also emphasized a sobering point: “Obviously, it doesn’t work that way in practice.”

There are several reasons why:

1. The Statute May Not Expressly Allow Removal

Even if the statute allows the judge to impose registration at the outset, it may be silent on whether the judge can later remove that requirement.

In many areas of law, courts are cautious about reading in powers that the legislature didn’t clearly grant. A judge might say:

  • “The law says I can put you on the registry under certain circumstances.”
  • “But it doesn’t say I can take you off, so my hands are tied unless the legislature changes the statute.”

Without explicit statutory authority, some judges will refuse to act, even if they personally think it’s fair or logical.

2. Nobody Has Tested It Yet

The podcast noted something crucial: “I don’t know that anybody’s ever tested this.”

That means:

  • There may be no appellate cases addressing whether judges retain removal discretion in this context.
  • There’s no binding precedent saying “yes, they can” or “no, they can’t.”

Until someone brings a carefully crafted case, this question sits in the gray zone of untested legal theory.

3. Litigation Is Prohibitively Expensive

Even where a legal theory seems sound, bringing it to court takes resources:

  • A willing attorney
  • Time to research, draft, file, and argue
  • Possible appeals

Listeners often hope to find lawyers who will take these kinds of cases pro bono or “because it’s the right thing to do.” The show pushed back firmly on that mindset: we have to move past the expectation that major constitutional or statutory challenges will be done for free.

Important nuances:

  • This particular challenge might not require extensive “factual development.” There may be no need for expensive expert witnesses or voluminous discovery; the key question is legal, not factual.
  • But even so, lawyer time is not free, and most firms cannot absorb multi-year impact litigation for nothing.

4. Organizations Have Limited Capacity

Even advocacy groups that focus on registry reform often:

  • Operate on shoestring budgets
  • Are already committed to other litigation
  • Must carefully choose only a few strategic cases

The podcast candidly questioned whether any organizations in Arizona currently have the financial capacity to back this kind of test case.

How Might This Be Brought to Court?

If someone did want to pursue this theory, the analyst suggested a possible procedural vehicle: a petition for declaratory judgment.

What Is a Declaratory Judgment?

A declaratory judgment is a court order that declares the rights and obligations of the parties under a statute, contract, or legal situation without necessarily ordering specific action yet.

In this context, a petition might ask the court to declare:

  • Whether a judge who had discretion to impose registration still has discretion to remove it
  • Whether a person in that situation is entitled to seek such relief

The idea would be to:

  1. Present the statutory text that grants discretion to impose registration when a crime is found “sexual in nature.”
  2. Argue that this same discretionary framework, read in light of fairness and judicial practice, should permit removal.
  3. Ask the court to formally state whether that power exists.

As the analyst put it, you could “fly it at the pole and see what happens.” That is, raise the flag and find out if the courts will salute—or shoot it down.

What About People Whose Offenses Were Not Against Children?

The listener also asked specifically about people who:

  • Were not convicted of a PFR-type offense.
  • Did not have an offense involving children (“chirrens”).
  • Had registration imposed via judicial discretion.

The judge’s public justification—protecting children—seems especially tenuous when:

  • No minor was involved
  • The offense was not on the standard “sex offense” list

For such individuals, the logic of “you exercised discretion to put me here despite no child victim, now exercise discretion to take me off” is even more compelling on a moral and policy level.

But again, without a tested legal pathway and with high litigation barriers, that logic alone doesn’t change their status.

The Big Barrier: Resources, Not Ideas

The conversation eventually circled back to the same obstacle: resources.

People impacted by the registry often have:

  • Limited income due to employment barriers
  • Ongoing supervision or compliance costs
  • Little access to civil rights attorneys

So when an idea like this surfaces—solid, logical, and potentially powerful—it often dies at the starting line because no one can afford to carry it into court.

The show urged listeners to adjust expectations:

  • Stop assuming major changes will come from free legal work.
  • Recognize that if you want to see these theories tested, it will likely require organized funding—either personally, through community efforts, or via advocacy groups.

Conclusion: A Worthwhile Case Waiting for a Champion

The Arizona listener’s insight shines a light on an underexplored corner of registry law. When the state allows judges to impose registration based on a discretionary finding that a crime was sexually motivated, it opens a fundamental question:

Does that same discretion allow judges to later un-do that registration, especially when the offense wasn’t a listed sex crime or involving children?

Logically, ethically, and even structurally, the answer feels like it should be yes. A court’s ability to revisit discretionary decisions fits with broader judicial practice. A petition for declaratory judgment could be a clean vehicle for testing it, without the heavy factual burdens of other impact cases.

But ideas don’t change law on their own. Until someone with the necessary resources brings this question to court, it will remain an intriguing, untested theory.

Actionable Takeaways

  1. If you’re in Arizona with discretionary registration, consult a knowledgeable attorney about whether a declaratory judgment petition is plausible in your case.
  2. Advocacy groups should consider this as a strategic test issue, because a favorable ruling could help many similarly situated people.
  3. Support reform litigation financially where you can, instead of assuming life-changing legal work will happen for free.

The law often changes not because the best argument exists, but because someone finally has the means to present it. This might be one of those arguments waiting for its day in court.