A Collin County, Texas, judge says he has no regrets about barring cameras and livestreaming from the courtroom during Karmelo Anthony's murder trial, a decision that drew public anger but one he calls straightforward. Judge John Roach of the 296th District Court defended the move after a jury convicted Anthony and sentenced him to 35 years in prison for the fatal stabbing of 17-year-old Austin Metcalf.
Roach made his case in an interview with WFAA following the verdict. He did not hedge.
"Yes, it was an easy decision. I'll tell you why. My primary goal in every case is to make sure the defendant and the prosecution get a fair trial. Period."
The trial, held at the Collin County courthouse in McKinney, Texas, centered on the 2025 stabbing death of Metcalf, a Memorial High School student killed during a high school track meet in Frisco. Anthony was convicted of first-degree murder. The jury handed down the 35-year sentence on a Tuesday, Fox News Digital reported.
In high-profile criminal cases, cameras in the courtroom have become a flashpoint. Advocates say transparency demands public access. Judges counter that livestreaming can turn a trial into a spectacle, with social media commentary and real-time public pressure bleeding into the proceedings.
Roach landed squarely on the side of protecting the trial process. He acknowledged that his decision made people angry, and made clear he was unbothered by that.
"I know I made people mad but I'm not here to make them happy either."
He framed the question as a balancing act between the media's right to cover the case and the integrity of the courtroom itself. Roach said he weighed those interests carefully but concluded that a camera-free trial was the only way to guarantee fairness.
"I had to balance between the media's right to know and be able to know what's going on, which I think is extraordinarily important. I think the public had access to the courtroom and see what is going on."
In other words, Roach did not bar the public from attending. He barred the circus from entering. Reporters could sit in the gallery. Sketch artists documented the proceedings, courtroom sketches credited to Pat Lopez captured defense attorney Mike Howard delivering opening statements and Anthony during the trial. The public could watch the case unfold in person. What they could not do was watch it unfold on a screen, surrounded by the commentary and speculation that inevitably accompany livestreamed trials.
The jury found Anthony guilty and delivered a 35-year sentence. Roach expressed confidence in the outcome, telling WFAA that the jury followed the law and the facts.
"Yes they did because they were picked based upon the law, they listened to the facts, it happened in this courtroom, and they got a verdict."
That statement carried extra weight given the context. Protests over alleged racial bias continued outside the McKinney courthouse during the trial. Former U.S. Attorney Cully Stimson discussed potential appeal grounds in Fox News Digital's embedded video coverage, including a "Batson claim" related to jury selection, a legal challenge alleging racial discrimination in how jurors were chosen or excluded.
Roach addressed the fairness question head-on. He said the jurors were selected according to the law and that he was satisfied they reached their decision based on what they heard inside the courtroom, not what was said outside it. That distinction is precisely the one his camera ban was designed to protect.
In a political environment where criminal justice decisions regularly become partisan flashpoints, Roach's willingness to absorb public criticism in exchange for courtroom order stands out.
Roach also pushed back on any suggestion that personal connections influenced his handling of the case. He said he had no prior relationship with the victim's family.
"I wouldn't know Mr. Metcalf prior to this trial if he walked up to me and said 'hello.'"
Jeff Metcalf, Austin's father, delivered a victim impact statement during the sentencing phase. A caption in the Fox News Digital report showed Anthony's grandmother, Toni Hayes, leaving court in McKinney on June 9, 2026.
Roach offered a measured assessment of the defendant himself, saying Anthony appeared to grasp the gravity of his actions.
"He seems like a nice young man who committed a crime and he understands today more than any day before the consequences of committing a crime like he did."
That is not a soft statement. It is a clear-eyed one. A 17-year-old is dead. The man who killed him will spend decades in a Texas prison. The judge who oversaw the case says the process worked, and that keeping cameras out was part of making it work.
When asked whether he had any lingering doubts, Roach offered a line that sums up his philosophy on the bench.
"As long as I follow the law, I sleep well at night."
The debate over cameras in courtrooms is not new, but it has intensified in an era of wall-to-wall cable coverage and social media pile-ons. High-profile trials, from the Depp-Heard defamation case to various political prosecutions, have shown how livestreaming can distort public perception, pressure witnesses, and turn jurors into targets of online harassment.
Roach's reasoning was simple. A courtroom is not a stage. The public's right to observe does not require the public's right to broadcast. And a judge's job is to protect the trial, not to generate content.
That reasoning will not satisfy everyone. Media organizations argue, with some justification, that cameras serve as a check on judicial power. When the public cannot see what happens inside a courtroom, they must trust the system, and trust in institutions is in short supply these days. As recent political developments have shown, even elected officials within the same party struggle to agree on what accountability looks like.
But the alternative, a trial conducted under the glare of livestreaming, with every ruling dissected in real time by cable pundits and social media commentators, carries its own risks. Jurors who know the world is watching may feel pressure to deliver a verdict that satisfies the crowd rather than the evidence. Witnesses may alter their testimony. Attorneys may play to the camera instead of the jury box.
Roach decided those risks outweighed the benefits. He made the call, took the heat, and says he would do it again.
The Karmelo Anthony trial also raises questions that extend beyond the camera issue. The discussion of a potential Batson challenge on appeal means the case may not be fully resolved. If Anthony's defense pursues that claim, courts will have to examine whether the jury selection process met constitutional standards, a question that could send the case back for further proceedings.
Meanwhile, the Metcalf family is left with a 35-year sentence and the knowledge that the young man who killed their son will eventually walk free. Whether that sentence reflects justice or leniency depends on where you stand. But the process that produced it, a trial conducted without cameras, before a jury selected under the law, overseen by a judge willing to absorb public criticism, is harder to second-guess than many critics would like.
In a culture where public figures routinely second-guess institutional decisions from the safety of a television studio, Roach's approach is a reminder that some decisions are better made by the people in the room, not the people watching from home.
And in a news cycle where shocking developments compete for attention daily, the quiet work of a county judge insisting on courtroom order barely registers. That is a shame. The principle Roach defended, that a fair trial matters more than a public spectacle, is one worth defending loudly, even when the courtroom itself stays quiet.
A judge who prioritizes the integrity of his courtroom over the approval of the crowd is not making an easy decision. He is making the right one.
