Vermont Bar Journal, Vol. 40, No. 2 Summer 2015, Vol 41, No. 2 | Page 5

by Daniel P. Richardson, Esq. PRESIDENT’S COLUMN Getting to Yes And ... When we look at the history of the lawyer, we think of him or her first and foremost as a trial advocate. From the beginning of our profession in ancient Athens, with its citizen advocates who gained renown through their rhetorical skills employed on behalf of other citizens—offering speeches in defense of accused individuals known as “apologies”—lawyers have been rooted in the skill of representing others in the public forum, working to persuade others toward a particular outcome. That brings us, of course, to Socrates the first of many defendants who chose to be self-represented and we can see that even then going pro se tended to be a bad idea. I want to come back to Socrates, at least as Plato gives him to us, in a moment, but the image of the lawyer moving forward in history does not change much. Rome gives us Cicero. Later we can look to Thomas More and Francis Bacon. In more recent times, we have enshrined the early years of Abraham Lincoln as the Prairie Lawyer. Before the recent Lincoln movie, the most famous Lincoln on the screen was John Ford’s Young Mr. Lincoln, in which Henry Fonda portrays the nascent Lincoln trying his first felony case, which he wins through an effective cross-examination. You can name dozens of other examples, both in reality (Clarence Darrow, Thurgood Marshall, Alan Dershowitz) and in fiction (Daniel Webster—the only true adversary for the devil—Rumpole, Perry Mason, Ally McBeal, Faulkner’s Gavin Stevens, and of course, Atticus Finch). When the public says, “She is a good lawyer,” they usually mean what we refer to as a good trier, or as Deane Davis called it a “fighting lawyer”—advocates who can maneuver the trial process, apply the rules of evidence, find points of irregularity for cross examination, and tell their client’s story. Yet, at the same time, the public often has little sense of what a trial attorney does. Think about Perry Mason. Every single case ended with a witness breaking down and admitting guilt or revealing the guilty party. Every time! Look at Young Mr. Lincoln, too—same thing right out of the gate. No wonder he became president! When was the last time you had a witness do that? Such misperceptions on the public’s part have always been troubling, but they have www.vtbar.org been acceptable so long as we as attorneys have been willing to keep the sense and sensibility of trial process alive. But that function has dimmed in recent years as fewer and fewer members of our profession try cases or embrace the role of lawyer as a trial advocate. This represents a significant problem for a profession that defines its existence in relationship to the court and its primary role as officers and advocates. For some, the answer is better education, but to them I would recommend the speech that Justice Robert H. Jackson made in 1950 at the dedication of Stanford Law School’s expansion. He noted that: It may be that the law school emphasizes preparation for appellate work at the expense of preparation for the trial court. I sometimes sit in moot court, through which our schools are trying to teach advocacy. I find young men carefully trained, their research exhaustive, their arguments penetrating. But they usually argue some great issue for which they are not likely to be employed during the first twenty years of practice. Then, too, they are adapting themselves to an appellate court, which no case of theirs is likely to reach for some years. But more unrealistically, they have been given the complete facts of a hypothetical case. The difficulty with this is that they are started at the wrong end of the process. Most lawsuits are ended as soon as there is a final settlement of the facts. The success or failure of young lawyers will be determined by the way they investigate and prepare and present cases to the triers of fact. A surprising number of cases every term are thrown out of our Court because counsel in the trial courts have not made adequate records, have not preserved crucial questions, or have not asked appropriate instructions or findings. The place to win an appeal, as well as a verdict, is in the trial court.1 What has changed in the past sixty-five years is what has not changed. Despite law schools providing more internships, externships, and clinical programs, most legal education still does not go to trial advocate training. The system continues to mint THE VERMONT BAR JOURNAL • SUMMER 2015 graduates that have all the skills to become an associate at a large law firm where they may begin to observe the actual practice of law in all its grueling, slow, and brickbuilding glory. How then is a trial lawyer formed? What goes into making a good trial lawyer? To answer these rhetorical questions, we should start with a few principles: Trial Advocacy as Performance First, trial advocacy is difficult, if not impossible to teach in law school. For the reasons outlined by Justice Jackson and others, trial work is about the slow accretion of information, the building of a case, learning how to read other people, including your client, to know when they are omitting, exaggerating, or outright lying. It is also the outward display of communication and personality that takes what I will call the “trial data” and expresses it in a manner that a jury can hear and understand. These are not teachable skills. These are performance skills that must be learned. They must be practiced and approached in a way that builds those skills. Trial work depends on what others perceive—the performance aspect of a trial. Too often, we hear ourselves or opposing counsel apologizing for how the jury is responding to them. How many times have we said or heard the following: “My client is the person on trial. Do not base your decision on what you think of me.” If we are saying this, it is too late. Perhaps the number one reason why we fail at the performance aspect of a trial is that lawyers, like everyone, else suffer from stage fright. Some lawyers litigate defensively like an actor carrying a copy of her lines with her. Some lawyers litigat