Tuesday, March 30, 2004

Kodak moments

Speaking of depositions, I have to tell you (all 80 million of you reading this) about my favorite deposition moment. Although I'm a civil defense lawyer, at the small firm I used to work at we occasionally took on plaintiff matters. One such matter was a great (or horrendous, depending on your viewpoint) sexual harassment, Title VII case against a major, Fortune 500 corporation. The principal "bad guy" who was most responsible for harassing and humiliating our very credible client was set for a deposition, and I was given the honor of deposing him. Most of the deposition transcript would be censored by the FCC if it was on-air. This was a very dirty, vulgar man in a regional office which, somehow, had slipped through the cracks of the federal Civil Rights Act as applied to women. The deposition went into graphic detail about all of his shenanigans.

The transcript went something like this at one point:

[Bad Guy = BG; Our client = "Heather"]

Me: And you openly discussed masturbation in front of Heather, didn't you?

BG: Yeah, I did, but she was part of the conversation.

Me: And how did she participate with you in this "conversation"? Was she talking to you about sexual topics very often at the office?

BG: Well no, but I don't know, we were just talking and somehow it just came up.

Me: So according to you, you and Heather were just sitting around chatting, and the topic of masturbation suddenly just... came up?

[stifled giggle from defense counsel]

BG: Yeah, that's right.

Me: Well explain that to me. Explain the context in which masturbation just "came up".

[me, suddenly realizing what counsel was giggling about, scrunching up my face to avoid smiling]

BG: [in very serious tone and totally oblivious to everyone else's reactions] I don't know. It just came up. I wasn't really expecting it.

[second stifled giggle from defense counsel, joined by unsuccessful attempt by court reporter to not smile]

Me: [regaining composure] That makes no sense to me, Bad Guy. Which one of you two first brought up the subject of masturbation?

BG: I don't remember. All I know is that it suddenly came up, and once it came up I just stayed with it.

[defense counsel and court reporter both lose it]

For the record, after that episode we didn't have any more fits of giggles, particularly since I took our client's case very seriously and knew that we would end up nailing this company in court. And we eventually did.

Starting over, II

It pays to start afresh sometimes. A few posts ago I described a shoddy motion I drafted because I tried to use someone else's earlier draft as my starting point. After seeing my final product and not being happy with it (ditto for my partner), I started completely over. The result this time was magnifique.

Part of this motion incorporated segments of a deposition I took of an adverse witness. This really is part of what makes litigation such an enjoyable process for me. First, taking the deposition itself, which is often a fun and challenging process. The entire exercise of asking strategically thought out questions to a witness who is trying to produce strategically thought out answers, all the while opposing counsel is trying to disrupt your process with inappropriate objections, is intellectually stimulating and just plain FUN. Then, with transcript in hand, you actually craft your motion to argue points to the court based on recorded testimony YOU elicited from the witness... don't get me wrong, this doesn't come close to the excitement of trialwork. But it's fun, and interesting, and gratifying in its own way.

Monday, March 29, 2004

Anonymous

A number of recent blog posts remind me why it is important to (1) remain anonymous in running this blog, and (2) even though I think I'm anonymous, remember that that there is no guarantee of anonymity. (See Dubitante, Anonymous Lawyer, and Scheherazade). For one thing, I'm quite sure that other people whose blogs I visit can probably guess where I'm from based on their usage statistics. My saving grace on this point is that the people who run blogs I typically visit seem to be, in my view, very nice people who would never deliberately sabotage a fellow blogger's hidden identity. Another point is that if anyone were to visit my blog who actually knows me personally, they would probably realize that I'm the author, since I do reveal tidbits about my personal life and personality on occasion.

I still adhere to the view that it is preferable, for a lawyer (or at least a young lawyer working at a law firm) to remain anonymous if they choose to blog. Others don't agree, and I respect their opinions and sincerely admire their lack of any fear of adverse consequences. They are more courageous than I.

Anyway, as Dubitante puts it, "If you know who I am, this is not my blog and nothing I say is true."

Update: The controversy continues. Scheherazade disapproves of anonymous blogging, stating, "I am real." (For the record, so am I. You just don't know who I am.) Anonymous Lawyer gives up his anonymity and "signs off." And De Novo admonishes anonymous bloggers to "write nothing about their coworkers or their firm's clients without permission."

De Novo's advice is sound. But with all due respect, I am unsympathetic to the gripes of some bloggers about those of us who choose to remain anonymous. Consider the plight of JD2Be, who erased all of his/her archives after discovering that someone from a local law firm--a potential employer--was reading his/her blog.

Update 2: Scheherazade responded to one of my comments to her posts:

Your comments make sense to me, and I count you among the "real" anonymous bloggers. Your answer prompts the sad question, "why is it we think lawyers and judges can't have voices and opinions," such that your conscientiousness is necessary. But I don't mean, as you might have taken my post, to "disapprove" of your choice to blog anonymously in the meantime, before we (society, blah blah blah) acknowledge that people can be both professionals and individuals with opinions and thoughts that evolve.

I guess my post sounds really black and white. My thoughts about this are a lot more grey...


Of course, she's right, and I too probably sounded more "black and white" than I intended. As for my realness or lack thereof, that is yet another price I have to pay for being anonymous. I am sincerely flattered that Scheherazade counts me as a real blogger, but I also acknowledge that being anonymous detracts from the credibility of my posts.

Sunday, March 28, 2004

Starting over

Well, it's official. Last week, I officially drafted the worst motion for summary judgment I've ever written. Having finished this motion and read through it, it's hard to believe that the author of this garbage was actually someone I know and admire, much less me.

There is a reason this happened. The motion was originally assigned to another associate. Our partner didn't like the other associate's draft, so he discretely reassigned it to me. Wholly abandoning all notions of common sense, I then proceeded to use the first draft as a template of sorts to write my own draft. In other words, I tried to "improve" upon the first draft.

What I should have done is start afresh, from complete scratch. So that's what I've now done, and it is looking much, much better.

Friday, March 26, 2004

The Apprentice

What's quickly becoming one of my favorite blogs, Anonymous Lawyer, had this to say about a show I'm addicted to, and he/she mirrors exactly what my thoughts have been throughout the season (except I never blogged it, so I won't try taking any credit for original thought):

Last night, for the first time, I saw "The Apprentice." Not live -- we TiVo'd it, and I watched it when I got home. I hadn't seen it before. All the contestants seemed like idiots. They wouldn't get through a first round interview here or anywhere else. Especially at that boardroom part at the end. They couldn't hold their own there, they won't hold their own in a client meeting or in a courtroom. Pathetic.


I enjoy the show, and I do think that some of the contestants are quite intelligent. But it always struck me that 75% of succeeding on this show is simply being an advocate. Basically, if you don't screw up too badly while doing your "task of the day", if you can successfully advocate for yourself in front of Judge Trump, you will survive to the next round. I honestly can't think of any other profession on earth that has the natural and inherent skills to do that successfully than law, specifically litigation. And each episode is rife with blunders by the contestants that any competent litigator would know to avoid, from lessons learned in the courtroom or before a jury: personal attacks (including responding to immature personal attacks with more immature personal attacks), poor body language, childish facial expressions, not playing to the audience and what the audience seeks (in this case, Trump, and to a lesser degree his 2 associates), the list continues.

And repeatedly the most important error I saw was what every good lawyer thinks about before any oral argument: learning and mentally organizing "the facts." The "facts" in that boardroom are the key strengths you believe you demonstrated during your performance which should persuade Trump not to fire you. When Trump's assistant ripped into Heidi, for example, saying something along the lines of, "I haven't seen you do a single thing during this entire season to contribute. Not one thing," all Heidi (who I adore btw) responded with was, "Well, that's your opinion and you're entitled to it but you're wrong." Ok Heidi, fine... explain HOW and WHY she is wrong, with specific examples, glossed over with your spin of course.

Hear me now: the next season will feature at least one lawyer. I almost applied myself, but I just didn't have the time to get a videocamera and make the stupid tape before their deadline. Oh well, maybe Season 3.

I'm famous!

I must say that it's odd to see myself on camera. For years, I have done pro bono volunteer work at a local battered women's shelter. I started this work as a 1st year law student, which me and several classmates did every few months under the supervision of an attorney, throughought law school. Upon graduating and getting admitted to the bar, the law school (which runs the project) asked me if I would like to continue as the shelter's new pro bono attorney and I gladly accepted.

Several months ago one of my former professors and a camera crew (i.e., his teenage son) came to the shelter to interview me and "see me in action," as part of a marketing effort to encourage local lawyers and law students to do pro bono work. This morning, someone pointed me to a video posted on the Internet where I am prominently featured. I wish I could post the link here but that would obviously defeat my effort to remain anonymous. Sorry. :(

Update: For the several millions and billions of you who read this blog daily, this post gives you some idea of why I'm familiar, at least at a superficial level, with domestic violence issues. Thus, my earlier post here.

Thursday, March 25, 2004

Another peek into the world of biglaw

Thanks to NFT(L)U for the reference to a brand new blawg I hope to see a lot more of: Anonymous Lawyer. Can't tell if it's a fake or not, but either way it's funny as hell. (For law firm associates, that is. I doubt humans, i.e., non-lawyers, would enjoy it).

Wednesday, March 24, 2004

Charging the mound should lead to charges

The Sports Law Blog offers this essay on whether professional athletes should be prosecuted for on the field incidents of violence. I wrote a snippet about this issue here. Sports Law's opinion seems to mirror those of many of my good friends who are big-time sports fans, and the sports community at large. To the question of whether athletes should be prosecuted for such acts, Sports Law opines, "Not always."

Why not?

I think it is time to declare an end to the arrogance of professional athletes who think, for reasons unknown, that they are above the law. Ice rinks, baseball diamonds and basketball courts are not and were never intended to be bubbles of lawlessness. The fact that they are treated as such is, I suspect, more a creation of the in-bred culture that has grown around professional sports, than an expression of larger society's actual consent for athletes to ignore the law when on the field. Said otherwise, if society chooses to exempt these individuals from conforming their behavior to criminal standards, our state legislatures are perfectly free to do so by passing appropriate laws. None of them, to my knowledge, has ever done so.

Disturbingly, Sports Law states:


Hockey players routinely fight with one another, often leaving with broken noses, bloody lips or missing teeth. A batter hit by a pitch in baseball may charge the mound, trying to land a good punch on the opposing pitcher. A linebacker in football may be suspended for several games for going after an opposing quarterback's head. None of these incidents lead to criminal liability.


First, such acts of violence do lead to criminal liability. That a prosecuting office chooses not to pursue a particular crime does not mean the crime was not committed. Second, each of these acts are unacceptable in any civilized society, and that fact is evidenced by our various states' criminal codes. Hitting people in the face, tackling them, slamming someone's head into the ground... these are all serious, violent crimes which are prosecuted as assault cases and lead to felony convictions in most states. People who commit these crimes when enough evidence exists to convict them, are prosecuted and convicted.

I am myself a sports fan. And I admit, a part of me is amused when I see some idiot charging a baseball mound making a complete ass of himself on national tv. But a much greater part of me is disgusted. When I play touch football or hoops at the local basketball court with my friends, do all of us have license to assault, maime and injure one another intentionally because of the "sports exception"? I doubt it. If I decided to charge someone during a softball game and knocked their teeth out, do you think the police would refuse to arrest me? I doubt it. Why, then, should professional athletes get away with these actions? Because they're rich?

Needless to say, I was glad to see Marty McSorley prosecuted for his disgusting assault a few years ago. And I will be even happier to see Todd Bertuzzi go through the same ordeal.

My first jury trial: Chapter 3 - Playing Games with Translators

Recap: In Chapter 1 I described how a simple 1200 dollar traffic accident made its way to my desk for litigation. In Chapter 2, I had my first conversation with defense counsel, who made it clear that his client was going to take a stand by not tolerating frivolous, exaggerated claims such as mine when it was obvious I was only doing it for the money and publicity. Of course, this was a pro bono case that no one would give a rat's ass about but that's neither here nor there.

Pre-trial preparation is not very sexy to read about, and even less fun to write about. But the outrageousness of my opposing counsel's attitude toward this case was on full display as we made our way through the various rounds of discovery and I can't leave it out.

To give you an idea of how foolish and low frills my firm considered this case, I did not even bother deposing the defendant driver. This would be unheard of in any "real" case, but my client Helga was poor and she truly did not want to incur the costs of depositions if we felt we didn't strongly need them. (Pro bono = attorney fees are free, but not out of pocket costs). I did have a copy of a recorded statement Boris gave, and I also knew his basic version of events, and felt that was good enough for me to cross examine him before an eventual jury.

Skeletor, of course, scheduled a deposition of Helga. Keeping in mind that our claim was for $1200: the cost of this deposition to Skeletor's client was probably well over $1500. That's not a typo. JUST for the deposition, to defend against a claim for $1200, the insurer paid over $1500. That doesn't count all the other hours Skeletor was racking up each day as I inundated him with motions, discovery requests and other litigation matters. (None frivolous I assure you; I was highly aggressive in my motion practice on legitimate issues, some of which I'll explain here).

Helga, for her part, did not understand how any of this could happen. She would come to my office now and then with a friend of hers to translate for her. She was convinced the US legal system would fail her and judge her unfairly because she was a non-English speaking foreigner. I told her that I couldn't guarantee anything, but that I had great faith in our jury system and they will do the right thing once they see her testify. I know, however, that she never fully believed me when I said that.

Helga's deposition was an exercise in aggravation. Defense counsel was, predictably, rude to her. Deposing someone through a foreign language translator is always a challenge, but the frustrating thing about this deposition was that counsel, Skeletor, tried to use the language barrier as a way to trip up Helga, confuse her, mix up her testimony, and basically try and make the deposition transcript look as though she had made inconsistent statements about how the accident had happened, when she clearly had not. On top of that, the translator was incompetent and did not know how to provide "simultaneous and consecutive translation". Because of these tactics, I filed an unheard of motion: a Motion to Suppress Deposition. I also instructed Helga to refuse to sign and certify the transcript of the deposition, and filed an objection to the accuracy of the transcript on her behalf.

Our fight over this idiotic deposition transcript alone probably cost the defense about $3000, plus the $1500 expense of the deposition itself. Our settlement offer remained at $1200. The defense didn't budge.

To be continued...

Tuesday, March 23, 2004

State v. McCorquodale and the Death Penalty

The history of my personal attitude toward capital punishment is somewhat unusual. For most of my life, I was a staunch opponent of the death penalty on all levels. My passion in opposing it was so strong that I actually attended demonstrations protesting the executions of a few inmates in my state, when I was in college. I also wrote several papers about the death penalty in college, all of which were variations of the same argument: the death penalty is vile, immoral, ineffective, and unconstitutional. So I surprised myself (and everyone who knew me) when, as a 2nd year law student, I discovered I no longer felt the same way. The catalyst, ironically, was a semester-long death penalty seminar I enrolled in, taught by a well-respected anti-death penalty lawyer, which culminated in my law school thesis on the subject of the death penalty.

To be clear, many of the objections I once had for the death penalty still exist to this day. The death penalty is handed down in far too many cases in a far too broad variety of circumstances. It is disproportionately applied to indigent defendants. There is insufficient accountability for ineffective defense counsel, overzealous prosecutors or incompetent judges for those death cases which are reversed post-conviction. And speaking of reversals, over 80% of all death sentences in this country are reversed through either the federal or state appellate process, which proves to me that the system is inept and in need of serious repair.

But my objection to the death penalty in principle, when it is applied fairly and in accordance with due process, no longer exists. This change in opinion came after I spent 4 months studying approximately 200 different death penalty cases from around the country. In reviewing these cases and all their gruesome facts, slowly but surely, it became clear to me that there are different degrees of murder--degrees of first degree murder even. And in those extreme cases involving the very highest degree of culpable conduct and the strongest sense of depravity, combined with the most unimaginable level of agony and pain by the victim, nothing short of death was a just and fair punishment for the defendant's conduct.

There is one case in particular which I identify as the real catalyst in my mind. I'm quite certain that it was reading State v. McCorquodale, 211 S.E.2d 577 (Ga. 1974), that served as the proverbial straw for me, morally, psychologically, emotionally, and logically. After reading the facts behind this case, which is by far the most outrageous and heinous death penalty case I came across in my entire research, I simply could not bear the weight of my stubborn loyalty to the anti-death penalty cause. This man deserved to die, and no other result could possibly be fair. As recited by the Georgia Supreme Court opinion affirming his death sentence, here is what he did:


The state presented evidence to establish the following facts:

On the evening of January 16, 1974, Donna, the victim, a 17 year old girl, and her friend, Pamela Pharris, were in the area of Peachtree and 10th Street in the City of Atlanta known as 'The Strip.' While in a restaurant they were accosted by a man named Leroy who invited them to a bar for a beer. While in the bar the two girls engaged in a conversation with two black men. Leroy left the bar and the girls later went to another bar on 'The Strip.' Leroy met them at this bar, approached their table and accused Donna and Pamela of stealing $40 or $50 from him and giving the money to a black pimp. At this point they were joined by the defendant McCorquodale and his girlfriend, Bonnie Succaw (now Johnson). At the request of Leroy and McCorquodale the girls were taken to a bathroom and searched by Bonnie and a friend. They found no money. McCorquodale and Leroy then summoned a cab, and joined by Bonnie, they took Donna with them to Bonnie's apartment. They arrived at Bonnie's apartment shortly after midnight and found Bonnie's roommate, Linda, and Bonnie's three year old daughter asleep. The appellant McCorquodale had lived some eight months prior to his time in the apartment with Bonnie. Linda joined them in the living room of Bonnie's apartment and at this point there was some conversation between McCorquodale and Leroy about Donna being a 'nigger lover' and that she needed to be taught a lesson.

The appellant, after telling Donna how pretty she was, raised his fist and hit her across the face. When she stood up, he grabbed her by her blouse, ripping it off. He then proceeded to remove her bra and tied her hands behind her back with a nylon stocking. McCorquodale then removed his belt, which was fastened with a rather large buckle, and repeatedly struck Donna across the back with the buckle end of the belt. He then took off all her clothing and then bound her mouth with tape and a washcloth. Leroy then kicked Donna and she fell to the floor. McCorquodale took his cigarette and burned the victim on the breasts, the thigh, and the navel. He then bit one of Donna's nipples and she began to bleed. He asked for a razor blade and then sliced the other nipple. He then called for a box of salt and poured it into the wounds he had made on her breasts. At this point Linda, who was eight months pregnant, became ill and went into the bedroom and closed the door. McCorquodale then lit a candle and proceeded to drip hot wax over Donna's body. He held the candle about 1/2 inch from Donna's vagina and dripped the hot wax into this part of her body. He then used a pair of surgical seissors to cut around the victim's clitoris.

While bleeding from her nose and vagina, Leroy forced the victim to perform oral sex on him while McCorquodale had intercourse with her. Then Leroy had intercourse with the victim while McCorquodale forced his penis into the victim's mouth. McCorquodale then found a hard plastic bottle which was about 5 inches in height and placed an antiseptic solution within it, forcing this bottle into Donna's vagina and squirted the solution into her. The victim was then permitted to go to the bathroom to 'get cleaned up.' While she was in the bathroom, McCorquodale secured a piece of nylon rope and told Bonnie and her roommate that he was going 'to kill the girl.' He hid in a closet across the hall from the bathroom and when Donna came out of the bathroom he wrapped the nylon cord around her neck. Donna screamed, 'My God, you're killing me.' As McCorquodale tried to strangle her, the cord cut into his hands and Donna fell to the floor. He fell on top of her and began to strangle her with his bare hands. He removed his hands and the victim began to have convulsions. He again strangled her and then pulled her head up and forward to break her neck. He covered her lifeless body with a sheet and departed the apartment to search for a means of transporting her body from the scene. By this time, it was approximately 6:00 a.m. on the morning of January 17.

McCorquodale soon returned to the apartment and asked Bonnie for her trunk and Leroy and McCorquodale tried to place Donna's body in the trunk. Finding that the body was too large for the trunk McCorquodale proceeded to break Donna's arms and legs by holding them upright while he stomped on them with his foot. Donna's body was then placed in the trunk and the trunk was placed in the closet behind the curtains. McCorquodale and Leroy then went to sleep on the couch in the living room for the greater portion of the day, leaving the apartment sometime during the afternoon.

Because a strong odor began to emanate from the body, and her efforts to mask the smell with deodorant spray had been unsuccessful, Linda called Bonnie to request that McCorquodale remove the trunk from the apartment. Shortly after 8:00 p.m. McCorquodale arrived at the apartment with a person named Larry. As they attempted to move the trunk from the closet, blood began spilling from the trunk on to the living room floor. McCorquodale placed a towel under the trunk to absorb the blood as they carried the trunk to Larry's car. When McCorquodale and Larry returned to the apartment they told Linda that the body had been dumped out of the trunk into a road and that the trunk was placed under some boxes in a 'Dempsey Dumpster.' Donna's body was found about half a mile off Highway No. 42 in Clayton County.


The Georgia court concluded its thorough analysis of this case by stating, "In no case we have reviewed has the depravity of the defendant and the torture of the victim exceeded that established by the evidence and testimony of the witnesses in this case. We affirm the sentence of death. Judgment affirmed."

After once escaping from prison and being re-captured, Mr. McCorquodale exhausted all his appeals and was executed on September 21, 1987, by electrocution.

Office Space

Scheherazade offers this delightful post about her desk and the office in which it sits. For my part, I am simply not worthy of my office. It's much too luxurious. I'm not complaining of course, but as a former law clerk who also once interned with the state government, and will also likely go back to government work some day in the far future, I have this constant, nagging thought telling me not to get used to this. If I get too attached, it'll either break my heart when I leave, or it'll convince me not to leave the private sector in the first place, thereby shattering my lifelong dreams of never having to record a billable minute ever again.

So what's it look like? As per lawyerly tradition, I have a large desk with way too much room on it, plus a side attachment where my computer monitor, phone and random memorabilia sit (again, way too much room). I basically have two bookshelves, one of which is filled with my private collection of purty-looking lawyerly books (most of which were donated to me by the judge I once clerked for, since the courthouse was moved from one building to another). The other contains other misc things including some of my case files. On one wall I have my various degrees, awards (yeah, the several of them that exist, wink wink), and law licenses I have. On another wall I have a faux copy of the original Bill of Rights, hanging above two plush, beautiful chairs for guests. In the middle of those chairs is a coffee table, upon which sits a globe. And then, of course, there's the best part: the view. I have three ridiculously large windows which allow me to look straight into the heart of downtown.

A friend of mine at the Department of Justice asked me a while ago about my office, and we both had a good laugh at how different our respective work spaces were. Well, he did anyway. He said he must be crazy to continue working in his cubicle with an unadulterated view of nothing other than his boss's wastepaper basket. I laughed along with him, but I reminded him of the many simple pleasures he gets to enjoy with his job also, that many in the private sector would trade in a heartbeat.

I'll do that trade, some day, when I no longer love my job the way I do now. That day is still far in the future though.

Monday, March 22, 2004

My Very First Jury Trial: Chapter 2 - Skeletor Revealed

In Chapter 1, Skeletor had just finished chatting it up with me when I asked him to comment about our silly little case we had which wasn't worth 10 minutes of our time in attorney fees:

Skeletor: Well UCL, here's the deal... it looks like my client Boris was in the exit waiting to get into traffic, and your client basically snuck up from behind out of nowhere, crammed into the space next to Boris without letting him know, and messed his car up. And then she wants to blame Boris, right? Ha ha ha.. that's funny! Now our client [the insurance company] has offered to settle this case for $400 and I suggest she take it. What's the problem?

This tirade left me speechless. The first thing I did was look around to make sure there wasn't a jury listening in on our call, because I could've sworn that what this lawyer was doing was dramatizing the stupid accident. I never understood why some lawyers do this, on the phone, when it's only two people in on the conversation: him, and me. Lawyers of this breed, and there are many, simply amaze me. I am not calling them to argue about who is right or wrong. I'm calling to discuss the possibility of compromise with them, in a case which any competent legal professional would recognize could go either way and is therefore appropriate for settlement. This is particularly true when the case is worth twelve hundred freakin' bucks!

So after recovering from my shock, I tried again, diplomatically. "Well Skeletor I'm sure that's how you would eventually play it to a judge or jury [half-laugh at this point, since we all know a case this tiny will never be taken to trial by lawyers, right?] and it sounds like a pretty good version of events to me! But seriously, do you guys have a reasonable settlement position to offer so we can at least get a dialogue started?"

Answer: "Yeah, we do. First I don't understand why YOU don't understand that this is all your client's fault. Second, our 'reasonable settlement position' is 400 bucks. I think that's pretty generous."

Now, I am a tough negotiator, but the art of negotiation only comes into play when both sides are playing by the rules. This guy was not. Negotiation over, for now. "Okay Skeletor, if that's how your client wants to approach this, we'll just see you in court."

Answer: "Well, if that's what you want, fine."

Me: "And I'm telling you now that we won't arbitrate this, and this won't be a bench trial. I'm exercising Helga's right to a full-blown trial by jury."

To this, Skeletor didn't have much to say. He was kind of stunned that I had threatened to take this case all the way to a jury. Actually I was kind of stunned too, because it came out of nowhere and no one had told me to do it. Which lawyer takes a $1200 case (or for him, a $400 case) all the way to a jury trial? So he kind of mumbled something, to which I responded:

"We have a lot of work to do. Depositions, other discovery. How's your calendar looking?"

[Note to practitioners at this point: I actually got this file right after a complaint was served and answer filed. Thus, the litigation ball had already started rolling somewhat but no one thought it would roll much further.]

Skeletor told me he'd talk to his client and get back to me about dates. I thought, no I actually knew, that he would go back, confer with the adjuster, talk about the budget for actually trying this case to a jury, talk about the mere $800 difference in settlement positions we had, and call me the next day with a decent offer.

That call never came. I was angry at the rudeness and unreasonableness of counsel when he spoke to me on the phone. I'd never done a jury trial before, but I didn't care. I was mad. I went to the partner who gave me the case. He was shocked at counsel's position. But he told me this would be a great opportunity for me to go through an entire trial from start to finish. So as long as Helga was okay with it, he gave me the green light to spend as many hours as I needed to present this case to a jury and get a verdict. He told me to put on my battle armor and get ready.

I began my preparations. I was ready for war.

TO BE CONTINUED

SCHWARTZ!!!

Ahhh the memories! The world's--and I mean WORLD'S--best deli, which consists of exactly one room cramped with no more than 10 or so tables (customers have to share tables if they want to eat), actually has its own website! It's nothing more than an "Under Construction" sign right now, but just typing in the URL makes my mouth water. Yes, it's that good. If you ever go looking for it in Montreal, the first thing you will do is drive by it 4 times because you'll never notice it. Then, when you find parking, you'll discover that the 35 people lined up on the sidewalk along the street outside... are all waiting for a seat inside Schwartz. And I don't care what any New Yorker or anyone from any other city with great delis says. I am an authority: I've been all over the world, I've tried everything, and Schwartz is the best.

Since the website's not much to look at, here's a flattering (deservedly so) review for the unacquainted.

Sunday, March 21, 2004

My very first jury trial

In a series of posts over the span of a few months, I compiled the story of my very first jury trial as a 1st-year lawyer, on this blog. For anyone interested in reading part or all of the story, I assembled links to all of its chapters here. Chapter One is this post. The rest are here: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, Conclusion. Here goes nothing...

At the time this case came across my desk, I was a 1st year associate at a 10-lawyer civil defense firm. Most of our clients were insurance companies, and most of my time was accordingly spent either defending people insured by those insurance companies, or defending the insurance companies themselves from whatever troubles made their way to their corporate headquarters. The point is, I was one of the bad guys defending the big bad corporate monsters. I say that tongue in cheek of course, because I very much enjoy representing insurance companies, the vast majority of which work hard to do business ethically and stay out of trouble. But, at the time, I had never gone to trial. I'd done several depositions, and argued motions in court now and then, but no trial experience.

With that in mind, one of the firm's partners came to me one day and asked me to handle a small, pro bono plaintiff's case that I could "probably wrap up pretty quickly." Ahem. The humor in that you will appreciate later.

The case basically involved a tiny fender bender incident and a stubborn insurance company (that we obviously didn't work with). The client was a little old lady who spoke no English--let's say she spoke only the Czech language and her name is Helga--was very poor, and was uninsured. The partner felt sorry for her and told her, lucky for me, that our firm would help her out, even though we usually represent insurance companies and not plaintiffs. The facts of the accident were fairly simple: As she was exiting the parking lot of a grocery store, there was a guy ("Boris") in his car to her left who was also in the exit area at the same time. However, Boris was in the middle of the exit and had no turn signal on, and there was room to his right for her to exit onto the street. Therefore, she pulled up next to him, turned on her signal, waited for a break in the traffic, and moved into the street. Unfortunately, so did Boris, at the same time and in the same direction. Their front bumpers made love for about 2 seconds. There was no real "impact" per se, just a 2-second scratching and dragging incident, which left both cars with small but noticeable gashes on their respective front sides, and our client's bumper hanging down, about to fall off. Helga wasn't physically hurt at all. From estimates she'd gotten, all she wanted was 1200 bucks to fix her car.

Boris was covered by his insurance company for the accident, and it investigated the matter. Apparently the company had initially told Helga they would fix her car for her and accept that Boris caused the accident. But the adjuster, Natasha, changed her mind at some point. Because Natasha wanted to give Helga only 400 bucks, and Helga refused to accept it, Natasha decided to hand the case over to the company's lawyer. His name was Skeletor.

Thinking to myself, "Hah, it's in a lawyer's hands! I will simply call my fellow lawyer, Skeletor, and after having a good laugh with him about how silly it was for either of us fine litigators to spend a great deal of time on this cute little matter, get it all settled! Hah!"

So I picked up the phone and called Skeletor:

UCL: Skeletor, hey! How's it going over there at Vader, Milosevic & Tikrit? Is my ol' classmate Stacy still working over there?

Skeletor: UCL, hey! Good to hear from you, yeah she is and she misses working with you guys. So what's new at Skywalker, Indiana & Jones?

[more incessant chatter about nothing]

UCL: Anyway... I wanted to talk to you about this Helga and Boris matter. What's your take on this whole thing?

Skeletor: Oh yeah the Helga and Boris matter, heh! Let's see, hmmm, oh yes, that's right, well UCL, here's the deal...

[DRAMATIC MUSIC]

TO BE CONTINUED!

Saturday, March 20, 2004

Blumpkin blumpkin blumpkin blumpkin blumpkin...

My federal tax dollars are currently being wasted on an action by the FCC against the Howard Stern Show. The Smoking Gun offers us the transcript of the show at issue. The offending word was "blumpkin". Yes, that's right... Blumpkin. This was uttered during a show in 2001 (huh?), and both the word and apparently the discussion putting the word into context is what has brought forth the wrath of federal Big Brother.

So what's a blumpkin? In Stern's own words:

Well, a blumpkin is receiving oral sex while you're sitting on a toilet bowl if you are a man. You're sitting on a toilet bowl and uh, while you're evacuating you receive your oral.


Disgusting? Yes. And so what? I've listened to descriptions of female genital mutilation on tv or radio that disgusted me. Back in the day, I heard plenty of "disgusting" sexual acts described on the radio by Dr. Ruth. Graphic descriptions of rape disgust me. Are those banned too? If a rape victim wants to tell the nation about her experience, is she going to be fined $250,000?

But okay, I admit: I'm not that queasy and these things don't really disgust me. What disgusts me is that my tax dollars are used to attack radio broadcasts of this nature. Howard Stern can be crude and nasty, but the ironic thing is that the particular show they chose to go after is not even close to Stern at his worst. In this case he is very frankly and casually providing a description, and a definition, of an odd-sounding word. It would be one thing if someone on the show was actually DOING the act with the sounds being broadcast. But since when did describing a sexual act become a punishable offense?

I am fully aware that the free speech rights we Americans enjoy do not extend to radio broadcasts under the Supreme Court's dubious reasoning, in the 1978 case of FCC v. Pacifica, that the government "owns" the airwaves and it therefore has the right to control what is broadcast on its property. I think it is time to revisit Pacifica and strip the FCC of these absurd powers it has assumed over what I have the right to listen to. "Protect the children!", you say? How so? Are there hordes of children turning on the radio between 6 and 10 am every morning to listen to Howard Stern? If there are, why are their parents allowing them? Aren't they supposed to be getting ready for school and on a schoolbus or in class during those hours? And what effect is a show like going to have on them anyway, when kids these days have, let's face it, unfettered access to Internet porn?

Blumpkin.

Pet Peeves about judges

What irritates me most about bad judges are their tendency to respond to hundreds of pages of briefs, arguments, exhibits, and hours of time and energy spent on preparing for oral arguments by all sides, in a case with multiple parties, by issuing a ruling worded something like this, and nothing more:

"The motion is denied."

I experienced this earlier this week. The disposition of this motion for summary judgment was important to help guide the other parties in the case on how to handle things post-ruling. Some parties, mine included, plan on filing their own motions for summary judgment depending on how he ruled on this one. We were all looking to get a glimpse of how the judge viewed the issues of the case. He deprived us of that opportunity, unfortunately, with this one-liner. That's just bad judging, plain and simple. If he doesn't want to take the time to explain the court's reasoning to us (and indeed to the public), he should get off the bench.

And yes, we did pay attention to the court's comments during oral arguments. He asked about 4 questions, all one-liners about very simple fact issues, like, "Did your client actually say XYZ to the plaintiff before doing ABC?", or, "What date did the transaction of 123 take place on?" He made no mention of any legal issues. I doubt he had even read the extensive briefs at the time of argument. That's just inexcusable.

End vent.

WeaponsofAssDestruction

Bar none, this is the funniest bleepin' website I've ever seen. It's a shame its author doesn't update more often.

(It's written in blog-style so to really appreciate it, start with the very first post).

Supreme Court okays execution

By a 5-4 vote on Friday, the U.S. Supreme Court gave the green light for the execution of David Hill. Of note are the 4 dissenters in light of what the issue before the Court was. Hill's lawyers had argued that the lethal injection method of execution violated the 8th Amendment Cruel & Unusual Punishment clause. Personally I think that argument is a hard sell, and the Supreme Court has never taken that issue up before. But 4 justices voting to review the issue is quite significant. If Kerry wins the 2004 election and--mark my words folks--Rehnquist retires between now and 2008 as I expect him to, the newest addition to the Supreme Court could dramatically shift the weight of the Court to an unprecedented degree of opposition to the death penalty.

Other expected retirees in the near future: O'Connor and Stevens. And, if Rehnquist retires, my prediction for the new Chief Justice is Kennedy.

Rules to Live By

I am very proud of the following rules I follow any time I am in a courtroom.

I never call a judge, "Judge." It's always, "Your Honor."

I always stand up to address a judge, unless the judge specifically tells me not to do so, no matter how many times I have to get up and sit down.

I never interrupt a judge.

I always allow a judge to interrupt me.

The first words out of my mouth after a judge issues a verbal ruling that I disagree with are always a sincere, "Thank you, your Honor," unless there is an objection or other statement I need to make on the record to preserve my client's interests.

During oral arguments, I listen carefully to the judge's questions and actually answer the question he or she asks.

When a judge asks me if I have anything new to add that I haven't already stated in my written briefs, and I have nothing new to add, I will say the truth.

If it takes me 4 minutes to make my point but the judge has given me 15 minutes, I will shut up after 4 minutes.

I will not address opposing counsel at any time during an oral argument in court and will only address the judge, unless the circumstances require me to do otherwise.

I refuse to personally attack ad hominem opposing counsel under any circumstances, even if he or she has personally attacked me.

Thursday, March 18, 2004

Justice Scalia's Recusal

Justice Scalia has released a memorandum (PDF format) outlining his explanation for why he is denying the Sierra Club's motion to recuse him, from a case involving Vice President Cheney.

His explanation satisfies me. Justice Scalia has already proven his openness to recuse himself in appropriate circumstances in the recent past, with his decision to recuse in the hotly-debated "Pledge of Allegiance" case. In that case, Justice Scalia's recusal in my view solidifies the chances that the controversial 9th Circuit decision striking portions of the Pledge down, will be affirmed. This is because I highly doubt Justices Ginsburg, Stevens, Souter and Breyer will vote to reverse the 9th Circuit, which means the best opponents of the 9th Circuit decision can hope for is a 4-4 tie at the Supreme Court. A tie in the vote will mean that the Supreme Court will have failed to reverse the 9th Circuit, and the lower ruling will stand. And all this still assumes that Justices O'Connor and Kennedy will vote with the Chief Justice and Justice Thomas. I believe there is a chance that either O'Connor or Kennedy, or even both of them, will vote with the Stevens group.

In any case, the point of that explanation is to illustrate the significance of Justice Scalia's voluntary recusal from the Pledge case. I am sure he feels passionately about the case and was unhappy about withdrawing from it, thereby all but guaranteeing a defeat for "his" side of the argument. But he did so anyway. In the Cheney case, I believe the stakes are much lower, and the chances of a closely divided, 5-4 opinion are slim. He has provided a full and frank explanation of all the factual details behind his hunting trip with the Vice President, and conducted a detailed legal analysis prior to reaching his conclusion that he need not recuse. I think that Justice Scalia conducted himself appropriately, and that his reasoning is sound.

State Constitutions and Gay Marriage (Contd.)

Ms. Morality recently responded to my previous post about state constitutions and gay marriage:

Actually, Chuck, this particular criticism had less to do with my moral opposition (although I do morally oppose the issue) and more to do with the court's finding, reached by abandoning the necessary process, that the MA legislature was not reasonable. And the notion that conservatives in VT or MA have nothing to complain about because judges are somehow aligned with the people is silly. Do liberals have nothing to complain about regarding President Bush because he reflects the views of the people who elected him? Do conservatives have nothing to complain about because they elected him? The premise of your argument fails.

Your beef seems to be merely that some decry judicial activism when it suits their needs. But don't most opponents who speak out against judicial activism also speak out about the morality of same-sex "marriages?" And cannot people see more than one reason why something is bad? And didn't the wolf eventually come?


My response:

That you would cite examples of political issues, in response to my points of purely legal interpretation, is telling. President Bush is a politician, not a judge, and he is expected to pursue his political agenda. A judge, on the other hand, is duty-bound to interpret law according to established principles of Anglo-American law, regardless of tangential political issues.

At the appellate level, which is where many these gay marriage issues are being decided, outcomes are reached through long-standing methods of judicial interpretation. There are of course different ways in which an appellate judge can interpret a provision of his or her state's constitution. But the conservative view has always been that state judges themselves, when they are politically accountable to the people, most closely reflect the interpretation of their own state's constitution. If that is true, as I've said before, conservatives now have nothing to complain about. If they're unhappy, perhaps they should revert back to the liberal position that state judges should be appointed and NOT be subject to elections and "political accountability." Pick one. You can't have it both ways.

Your comment about the Massachusetts court doesn't refute those points. What "necessary process" was "abandoned" by the Massachusetts court? Massachusetts is well-known around the nation to be a liberal state, and has been throughout American history. What precedent can you cite me to demonstrate that equal protection provisions found within the state constitution of these liberal Massers does NOT require a full-fledged recognition of gay marriages? Are you (or I) more of an expert on the Massachusetts state constitution, than a duly elected Justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court? Are you well-versed in the legal traditions of Massachusetts law, and have you taken the time to study the significant history preceding the passage of Massachusetts' equal protection clause? I certainly am not.

Wednesday, March 17, 2004

More BIGLAW hell

I was saddened to learn that Ms. Morality had a terrible experience with biglaw, as she recounts here. Her story makes it clear that she was discriminated against on grounds of both gender and her pregnant status, in violation of federal law (and probably New York state law but I'm not a NY lawyer so I can't say). It's a sad reality that many big law firms, ironically, are behind the times when it comes to diversity issues and workplace discrimination. In fact (and with even greater irony) I would say the typical big law firm is decades behind most of its own corporate clients in terms of dealing with Human Resources issues.

My speculation as to one reason why: big firms are not held accountable by the threat of employment discrimination lawsuits the way other businesses are, because most attorneys know that filing suit against a major law firm is a one-way ticket to being black-listed in their jurisdiction.

State constitutions and gay marriage

Logos points to a heightened national interest in the way state supreme courts are interpreting their own state constitutions when it comes to gay marriage, commenting that:

For the last thirty years, conservatives have regularly used the term "judicial activism" to criticize rulings of Federal courts, typically rulings placing limits on state action (either state laws or the actions of state or local officials), and doing so under the authority of the 14th Amendment. Now we see the result of what may be regarded as judicial activism at the state level.


I don't know what "judicial activism at the state level" means. The justices on the supreme courts of most states in our country are either democratically elected, or appointed by the executive but subjected to retention elections. Liberals frequently complain that such a system corrodes judicial independence (as examined at length in this piece on PBS' Frontline; conservatives counter that it simply compels justices to align themselves more closely to the will of the populace. It is the conservative argument that is obviously the current prevailing view, as evidenced by the fact that around 39 states subject their high court judges to the elections process.

Consequently, it's obvious to me that the real motivation behind current criticism of state judiciaries' approach to the gay rights issue has little to do with "judicial activism", and has more to do with an underlying, moral opposition to the principle of "gay marriages". "Judicial activism" is supposed to be a criticism of legal methodology and the process by which judges reach legal conclusions. A sincere critic of "judicial activism" is not motivated by the outcome of any given case, or the merits of any particular argument, because he or she is more concerned by the manner in which the judge reaches the outcome or examines the argument. But an insincere critic will simply use the "judicial activism" label at his convenience, as a pretextual means by which to attack the merits of an argument. (Without necessarily accusing these particular individuals of being "insincere", a few examples of critics to the state judicial approach to gay marriage can be found here, and here; these are not to be confused with what I consider to be a purely sincere and honest critic, Antioch Road).

And that is precisely what is happening here. Under the current system of appointing justices to supreme courts in most states, the justices are presumptively more closely-aligned to the views of their respective electorates. This is a goal many conservatives sought to achieve, and many liberals vigorously opposed. Now that it is firmly in place, I see no reason to doubt that the justices in these various states do, to a large degree, reflect the views of their people. Conservatives, then, have absolutely nothing to complain about when it comes to the judicial decisions expanding gay rights in Vermont or Massachusetts. Criticism by them of such decisions as "judicial activism" is nothing more than a pretext, intended to disguise their genuine sentiments against gay marriage as a concept. This, frankly, reeks of intellectual dishonesty.

Tuesday, March 16, 2004

An excellent litigation blawg

I just discovered an excellent blog dedicated to civil litigation run by Evan Schaeffer. The Illinois Trial Practice Weblog is an interesting read for Illinois and non-Illinois lawyers alike. And although he's a plaintiff's lawyer, Evan offers advice and perspectives from both the plaintiff and defense sides of trial work.

This is one civil defense lawyer who's thoroughly impressed. And Evan, don't be surprised if you start seeing regular entries from me responding to posts I read on your blog.

Utah v. Rowland

In a recent post, I suggested a critical issue in the prosecution of Melissa Rowland was the question of actus reus. In this article from Findlaw, law professor Sherry Colb raises similar issues. But while Professor Colb makes an eloquent case for why prosecuting Rowland is bad public policy, she doesn't address the actual legal issues at stake. She concludes:

In the interests of justice, the prosecution of Ms. Rowland should be dropped or dismissed.


You can agree or disagree with that statement, but it doesn't speak to the actual law. As of today, the prosecution is not being "dropped." And if it should be "dismissed"--I assume she means by the trial court and not voluntarily by the State--how and why would the court do so? The column seems to suggest it should do so simply because it's "the right thing to do." That, as we all know, isn't good enough. And even if a trial court were to do such a thing, the State could seek its reversal by the Utah Court of Appeals.

Update: More commentary on this case from ampersand. And even more from Three Years, although his post focuses more on the merits of c-sections than Rowland's case.

Update 2: Katherine commented as follows:


actus reus for what?

attempt?
murder?
manslaughter?

and under what scheme, common law, penn statute, or the MPC?

off the top of my head, this wouldn't be substantial factors (no two D's) and while you could argue modified but-for (did Rowland's actions accelerate the child's death?), I think you could only argue traditional but-for, but even that would have problems, because you don't know if Rowland's actions actually caused the child's death.


I'm not sure whether Katherine's directing her criticism and questions at me or at the State of Utah, though her last paragraph suggests it's the latter. As to the question of "actus reus for what", the "what" is obviously whatever crime Utah is charging Rowland with, which I understand to be manslaughter. As to the question of "under what scheme" (meaning, I assume, under what body of law), I don't think it really matters. The actus reus requirement originates in the common law, but it is also built into the criminal codes of most states, if not by express statutory language then certainly by implication. It is almost more a principle of logic than a principle of law.

Watering my plants

De Novo features this spot-on article by Scheherazade about what law school doesn't teach you, which aptly summarizes the experience of every new lawyer. This is true not only for solo practitioners like Scheherazade, but big firm and small firm lawyers as well.

I only wish someone had a camera for the look on my face when, during my first week of work (at a small firm at the time), a paralegal came to me and asked, "So how do you want to handle discovery in this case?"

Answer: Um. I would say that we should handle discovery pretty much like it's normally handled in these kinds of cases. What do you think?

I used that "like it's normally handled" answer about 80 times during my first few months as a lawyer. Remember that line. You will use it often. It won't convince anyone you know what you're doing but it's a good, diplomatic way to signal them to leave you alone and stop asking you futile questions.

What I find particularly entertaining in reading Scheherazade's article is her description of how confused she was about what exactly her "assistant" was supposed to do for her. I had this same problem with my first real secretary. Fortunately she was a very experienced "superstar" secretary (hint: if you get a hold of one of these, folks, don't ever let her go; I had to when I switched firms). So, when she discovered that I was struggling to change the margins in Word for a court pleading I was about to file, she didn't hesitate to (after muffling her laughter) interrupt me and take over. She also made me realize that I no longer had to pick up the phone to talk to the judge's clerk about anything, ever (unless I really want to, which I often do).

Of course, moving from a small firm to a big firm plunges new attorneys into an entirely new cycle of confusion. When I first moved here, for example, the firm put a nice big plant in my office as a welcome gesture. "Beautiful!", I thought, "I'll water it first thing tomorrow!" Being the lazy ass procastinator that I am, though, that "tomorrow" never came. Four days later I was wracked with guilt over not having watered my plant, but somehow it still looked gorgeous. And then, lo and behold, I discovered the reason why as she walked into my office without saying a word: the firm's official plant-watering-person. Yes, you read that right. This lovely lady (she is kinda cute actually) goes through the entire building in which our law firm is located with a little tray of plant goodies and a spray-thingie of water, and makes sure that every plant everywhere is watered. Way cool!

Monday, March 15, 2004

BIGLAW hell

Props to Notes from the (Legal) Underground for uncovering this absolute gem of an example of a bad law firm for associates. I did a search per the post's hints for finding the offending blawg, and it was a highly entertaining read. I recommend it. I will say, however, that I'd rather have my fingernails torn off one at a time than work at this place.

Of course, this only makes me appreciate my own firm even more, which I've gushed about before.

Sunday, March 14, 2004

Killing Me Softly...

The case of Utah v. Melissa Ann Rowland looks like it was taken straight out of the pages of my 1st year criminal law textbook, because of the interesting legal issues the prosecution raises. Although the media report this case as one that will touch off a heated abortion debate in Utah, I don't view it the same way. Abortion and "fetus rights" are not nearly so much the issue as are fundamental principles of Anglo-American criminal law.

It's not about abortion

For one thing, it is now a long-standing, established principle of law in many states, including Utah I will assume, that the killing of an unborn but viable fetus is tantamount to the killing of a post-birth child. This is true in the criminal law context, and it is true in the civil, wrongful death context, and I don't consider it very controversial. Rather than arising from a legislative or judicial pronouncement that "life begins at conception" or anything of that nature, the conclusion that fetuses should be considered humans too arises principally out of the basic nature of tort law. The aim of tort law is to fairly compensate an injured person for her provable damages. With that in mind, whether a scientific or moral analysis concludes it or not, a mother is grievously harmed when she loses a baby in her 8th month of pregnancy. By pretending that loss does not exist, tort law would fail to achieve its aim of compensating injured persons. Thus, the death of a fetus is recognized as the death of a human being that causes grief, emotional pain and injury to the fetus's parents.

The real issue: actus reus

I actually think it was during my very first actual lecture, as a 1L, that my criminal law professor talked to us about the two building blocks of all criminal laws: mens rea and actus reus. Mens rea refers to the level of criminal intent of the defendant, and for almost all crimes, there is a specific level of intent (i.e., level of mens rea) assigned to a particular crime. Thus, for example, the crime of negligent homicide in a given jurisdiction can require a showing that the defendant had the level of intent known as "gross negligence" in committing the crime. Actus reus, on the other hand, refers to the actual, affirmative act that follows the mental level of intent, in committing the crime. Without actus reus, you cannot convict the defendant. For example, if the defendant had every intention of murdering his wife in his mind, and was sincere in those thoughts, but failed to take a single act in actually doing so, and the wife dies of separate causes by coincidence, he cannot be convicted. (Note: don't confuse these statements with the law of criminal "attempt").

So, generally, every crime requires proof of both building blocks: mens rea, and actus reus.

By my estimation, Ms. Rowland has been charged with murder under Utah Code s. 75-5-203(2)(c), which is the rough equivalent of most state's manslaughter or 2nd degree murder statutes. This crime is defined by the killing of a person where, in ...

circumstances evidencing a depraved indifference to human life, the actor engages in conduct which creates a grave risk of death to another and thereby causes the death of another


The "actus reus" requirement of this crime is actually spelled out in plain terms of this statute: that the actor "engage in conduct". I will not engage in a lengthy legal analysis of whether Ms. Rowland did or did not "engage in conduct" that legally caused the death of her fetus. But I will say that it is an issue that her lawyer, if he's competent, will both investigate and raise before the trial court, and if she is convicted, raise on appeal. The prosecution in this case seems to have hinged its theory against the defendant on grounds that she failed to act. While failing to act when it comes to taking care of a child or fetus can certainly and properly give cause for legal action in a number of contexts, it is questionable whether the law of murder is one of them.

Assuming she has effective assistance of counsel, this issue should be one of the central components of the defense. And if she is convicted, it should also be the central issue that will have to ultimately be resolved by the Utah Court of Appeals, and possibly the Utah Supreme Court.

In the world of litigation, don't trust anyone.

I am someone who always did, and still do, believe in the honor of our profession, and I treat my "adversaries" with respect. We are adversaries only as part of the job we do, and it's not personal, so I consider it futile to be rude, dishonest, or unprofessional when I deal with my fellow attorneys. I will be a hard-ass when I have to be, and I will fight fire with fire when opposing counsel chooses to act unreasonably. But as a general rule, I truly consider myself a civil litigator.

But it took me a while to figure out the right balance, and I got burned a few times before I learned the lesson referenced in the title of this post. In one case I worked on, I had to deal with one particular opposing counsel for 2.5 years as the case made its way from trial court (where he won), and to the state court of appeals (where I won) and state supreme court (where I won again). When you work with an adversary for that long, and both attorneys are reasonable-minded, decent people, you begin to establish a certain level of trust with one another. That trust is a good thing, and it makes each others' jobs a lot easier and less stressful. But one day I took that trust too far.

In a nutshell, counsel and I were litigating a discovery dispute at the trial court level. As part of our side's negotiations to possibly resolve the discovery dispute, I made the mistake of communicating something to him by voicemail. The critical error I made was not just leaving him a voicemail--which is standard practice--but leaving a voicemail in which I entrusted counsel with substantive information about what we were litigating. I was shocked to soon find a written transcript of my voicemail attached to an exhibit, for counsel's subsequent motion to the court. He felt that something I had said in the voicemail would help his legal position, even though it was obvious I'd left it in a casual sense under the understanding that he would call me back and we'd discuss it in further detail.

This slimy tactic didn't actually help him, and the court ruled against him. But his betrayal of our trust is something I will never forget, and no matter how well I get along with any opposing counsel in the future, never again have I left or will I leave a voicemail with anyone that communicated anything other than, "Hey John, this is Chuck calling on Smith v. Jones matter. I wanted to talk to you about something on the case so please give me a call." Click.

Saturday, March 13, 2004

The Spirit of Roy Moore Lives on: Down with the Constitution!

(With apologies to Southern Appeal, which reminds us that Southern opinion on anything isn't homogenous)

Proving once again that, in the South, our Constitution is more of an irritating obstacle to happiness rather than a document to be cherished: a local paper from DeSoto County, Mississippi reports that the good folks representing the people of DeSoto County, along with the 4 mayors of its towns (Olive Branch, Southaven, Hernando, and Memphis Village), all unanimously support the 94-18 vote of the Mississippi State House of Representatives to violate the 1st Amendment Religious Establishment Clause.

The 94 legislators passed a bill making it "legal" (snicker) to specifically put a monument of the Ten Commandments in public buildings throughout the Great State of Mississippi. I'm sure the bill is not religiously motivated, of course. If we were to ask the legislators to pass a similar bill "allowing" the posting of Buddha statues, Hindu shrines, or, let's say, a monument to Satan, they would also pass that because they're not choosing one religious viewpoint over another with the use of public taxpayer dollars. Right?

The president of the DeSoto County Board of Supervisors, one Gene Thach, says he supports the bill, because it's a state law and not a county action, and...

After what went on in Alabama, I don’t want the county to get involved in legal battles. We don’t have the money for that.


This is in reference to, of course, the shenanigans of Alabama's judicial embarassment known as Roy Moore, who spent thousands and maybe millions of dollars in attorney fees to insist upon his "duty" to post the Ten Commandments in the Alabama Supreme Court. Roy had a fantastic track record with this argument: the U.S. District Court ruled against him (PDF); then the 11th Circuit U.S. Court of Appeals ruled unanimously against him (PDF) (and compared him to the heehaw governors of the South who refused to obey anti-discrimination laws in the '60s); then the U.S. Supreme Court ruled against him (PDF); then the U.S. Supreme Court ruled against him again; then the Alabama Attorney General ruled against him; then the 8 remaining justices on the Alabama Supreme Court unanimously ruled against him (PDF); and then an Alabama judicial ethics panel unanimously ruled against him. By my count, that's no less than 26 federal and state judges which have all examined his arguments and unanimously ruled against him.

Good ol' Roy isn't fazed, though: he's convinced the Alabama Supreme Court is going to change all that and reverse the decision to sack him. Good luck with that, Roy. When are you signing that book deal, by the way? Is it after you decide to run for public office?

Oh, and as for DeSoto County, Gene Thach: you'd better check back with your county lawyers about that "We don't want to spend county money to fight lawsuits over this issue" thing. You see, if the law is actually passed in Mississippi, and your county decides to follow it by posting a monument in one of its buildings, the county will itself be liable to be sued and will have to incur attorney fees to defend against any constitutional challenge brought against it. I find it amusing that you're willing to use your public seat of authority to violate federal law (and the constitutional rights of dissenters in your county, however few they may be), but you don't want to have to dip into your precious budget to do it. Do DeSoto County officials have no interest in obeying the Constitution on their own?

Friday, March 12, 2004

Joining the Dark Side

Before I went to law school, I always imagined myself being the kind of lawyer who would "fight for the little guy." I saw myself as the hero in movies like the movie "The Verdict", or the book "A Civil Action" (the movie sucked btw), using the full force of the law to impose justice upon arrogant and oppressive corporations.

By the time I graduated law school, of course, I had a more tempered sense of idealism. I now represent the "arrogant and oppressive corporation" in almost all of my cases, very often against injured plaintiffs who are poor and without any resources. I never imagined that I would be doing this kind of work and actually enjoying it. But I do.

What surprised me most, upon actually joining the world of "evil corporations" and litigating cases from their perspective, was the sheer number of truly defensible cases our firm has. The civil defense world is not filled with despicable clients like W.R. Grace ("A Civil Action") or cases with despicable conduct such as in the infamous Exploding Ford Pinto case. Yes, those big, high-profile cases happen occasionally, but the defense cases young associates like myself cut our teeth on in the meantime are often of a different variety, namely, the "give me a break" kind.

There's a good reason for that. Corporate clients are very familiar with litigation. When they genuinely harm someone, they are usually smart enough to recognize fault early on and settle claims against them before incurring hundreds of thousands of dollars in attorney fees. Consequently, by the time a dispute reaches our pure-litigation law firm, that dispute has gone through an extensive "filtering" process. At all the lower levels of the dispute-investigating process, the company determined that this claim was not worthy of disposing of with a quick settlement, or through the negotiation efforts of in-house counsel. So, while the clearest cases of liability were disposed of early on, many of the more dubious ones reach our desk with the instructions, "Go to war on this one." (Of course, this filtering doesn't happen with high profile, high stakes or catastrophic claims, which often reach litigation simply because neither side can afford NOT to take it to trial for one reason or another).

And so, contrary to what had once been my perception, I have dozens of cases where our corporate client genuinely played no role or a negligible role in harming someone, but it is dragged in anyway because of its deep pockets. These cases do, really, cry out for justice. I just never knew they actually existed until I entered this world.

BUT...

A few disclaimers to the above few paragraphs. First, I wrote that I have "dozens of cases" of the laughable kind. That is not to say "all my cases" or even "most of my cases" are of the laughable kind. Sometimes we do see cases where the client has wronged someone, there is no defense, the damages are high, but the client wants to fight. In those cases, I do not hesitate to advise the client, "Look, you screwed up, and you're going to pay a huge judgment. Do you want to do that now or do you want to do it after paying us $500,000 in attorney fees?"

Cases that extreme are rare, but they happen, and they represent a category of plaintiffs who deserve to be compensated. But an equally large category of cases fall somewhere in the middle, where the defense has truly injured someone but the plaintiff wants to use that to go well beyond what justice asks for. Causing someone $8,000 in damages does not, for example, give a plaintiff the right to ask for $50,000 in damages, plus a million bucks in punitives. That kind of greed is another reason civil defense lawyers have jobs, even though these aren't cases anyone would say are either "frivolous" or "indefensible."

I have no moral qualms about litigating the kinds of cases that I am. And the real beauty of being a lawyer is that, if I really wanted to, I could switch sides and use the expertise I gained as a civil defense lawyer to be a plaintiff lawyer. And, I shouldn't forget to add that I do take on a generous load of pro bono work every year, and I've even taken pro bono cases all the way to trial.

A word about my firm

I love my job, and I feel compelled to put in a word about the main reason why: my law firm. It's one of the larger firms in the state, and what attracted me to it is its hard-nosed reputation for being a tough litigation outfit. The people I work with work hard, but despite being a bigger firm they don't take themselves too seriously. It's casual wear, with blue jeans on Friday. I work whatever hours I want, whenever I want, as long as I'm productive and profitable by the end of the calendar year and I get along with the partners and other co-workers. The reality of that general rule is that people are out the door by 5:30 or 6 every day, and rarely come in on the weekends except for special reasons (like trial prep).

My colleagues are among the best-known trial lawyers in the region, and it seems like every day I turn on the tv or pick up the newspaper and see one of their names in the media. No, my name isn't there yet, 'cuz I'm still a "baby lawyer". (Whatever. Waah!) But young associates like myself aren't just stuck in the library writing research memos. We're sent to court frequently to argue motions and conduct trials, and when we're not in court we're taking or defending depositions. The caliber of our clients matches that of our firm, meaning that they're large, high-profile clients with intellectually stimulating and interesting cases, who have the budgets to handle real litigation when all other efforts at dispute resolution have failed. Business is booming. It's not a struggle to find things to do, it's a struggle to learn how to say "No more!" when partners ask how your caseload is. And the partners I work with are good: I respect them, admire them, and they're tough when they need to be but treat their associates well. Turn-over is low.

Sounds perfect doesn't it? Part of that comes from the fact that I chose the perfect profession for myself. I was destined to be a lawyer, and becoming one was the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. Part of it also comes from sheer luck. There are law firms out there which are just run differently than the ones we all hear nightmare stories about, which suck the life-blood out of you and spit you out after you've lost any semblance of your family and your life. I heard great things about the quality of life at this place before I came here, and I pursued my position here aggressively.

As you can tell, I haven't regretted it for a second.

Update: One of my favorite bloggers, Scheherazade, provides a counter-example to my experience with "biglaw". But then again, Antioch Road states he's also a happy lawyer at a big firm.

The Cheeseburger Challenge

In a comment to my last post, roach countered my challenge with his own challenge to satisfy my burden of persuasion. I think his criticism is fair, and I accept it.

For starters, although I credit roach for his use of the word "apparent," I bristle at his suggestion that I "have no apparent sense of what congress can do under the commerce power." My true identity and professional background being largely a mystery, I don't blame anyone for assuming as their default position that I'm an incompetent buffoon. But I will take this occasion to disclose that I'm a former federal law clerk, and federalism happens to be one of my favorite substantive areas of constitutional law.

The Bill

The language of the bill, once again, states in relevant part:

The manufacturer, distributor, or seller of a food or non-alcoholic beverage product intended for human consumption shall not be subject to civil liability, in Federal or State court, whether stated in terms of negligence, strict liability, absolute liability, breach of warranty, or State statutory cause of action, relating to consumption of food or non-alcoholic beverage products unless the plaintiff proves that, at the time of sale, the product was not in compliance with applicable statutory and regulatory requirements.


The Constitution

As we know, the powers of our federal government are defined by our Constitution, and the government's authority simply does not exist but for the powers expressly enumerated and delegated to it by that document. See, e.g., U.S. Const. amend. X. One of those powers is the Interstate Commerce Clause found in Article I, Section 8, Clause 3 of the Constitution which provides that Congress "shall have Power..."

To regulate Commerce with foreign Nations, and among the several States, and with the Indian Tribes


The Case Law

I suspect roach vastly underestimates and misunderstands the tremendous significance of Chief Justice Rehnquist's opinion in Lopez v. United States, 514 U.S. 549 (1995). In Lopez, the Supreme Court built upon a point first made in Maryland v. Wirtz, 392 U.S. 183 (1968), that "[n]either here nor in Wickard has the Court declared that Congress may use a relatively trivial impact on commerce as an excuse for broad general regulation of state or private activities..." (emphasis added). I emphasize the word "excuse" and would add "unjustified" to it, because that is precisely what the Supreme Court and Congress relied upon for the several decades leading up to 1995. Lopez put an effective end to that nonsense. In relevant part (and with citations omitted), the Chief Justice held:

Congress may regulate under its commerce power. First, Congress may regulate the use of the channels of interstate commerce. Second, Congress is empowered to regulate and protect the instrumentalities of interstate commerce, or persons or things in interstate commerce, even though the threat may come only from intrastate activities. Finally, Congress' commerce authority includes the power to regulate those activities having a substantial relation to interstate commerce, i.e., those activities that substantially affect interstate commerce.

Within this final category, admittedly, our case law has not been clear whether an activity must "affect" or "substantially affect" interstate commerce in order to be within Congress' power to regulate it under the Commerce Clause. Compare Preseault v. ICC, 494 U.S. 1, 17, 110 S.Ct. 914, 924-925, 108 L.Ed.2d 1 (1990), with Wirtz, supra, at 196, n. 27, 88 S.Ct., at 2024, n. 27 (the Court has never declared that "Congress may use a relatively trivial impact on commerce as an excuse for broad general regulation of state or private activities"). We conclude, consistent with the great weight of our case law, that the proper test requires an analysis of whether the regulated activity "substantially affects" interstate commerce.


The Court then turned to the specific federal statute at issue before it, the Gun-Free School Zones Act, which essentially made it illegal for any individual to possess a firearm at a place the individual knows or has reasonable cause to believe is a school zone. The Court first observed that this gun law did not even purport to regulate "commerce" because it did not arise out of "economic activity." Let's assume that criticism cannot apply to the Cheeseburger Bill, and this factor does not, therefore, weigh against the constitutionality of the bill. Moving to additional factors, the Court observed:

Second, § 922(q) contains no jurisdictional element which would ensure, through case-by-case inquiry, that the firearm possession in question affects interstate commerce. For example, in United States v. Bass, 404 U.S. 336, 92 S.Ct. 515, 30 L.Ed.2d 488 (1971), the Court interpreted former 18 U.S.C. § 1202(a), which made it a crime for a felon to "receiv[e], posses[s], or transpor[t] in commerce or affecting commerce ... any firearm." 404 U.S., at 337, 92 S.Ct., at 517. The Court interpreted the possession component of § 1202(a) to require an additional nexus to interstate commerce both because the statute was ambiguous and because "unless Congress conveys its purpose clearly, it will not be deemed to have significantly changed the federal-state balance." Id., at 349, 92 S.Ct., at 523. The Bass Court set aside the conviction because, although the Government had demonstrated that Bass had possessed a firearm, it had failed "to show the requisite nexus with interstate commerce." Id., at 347, 92 S.Ct., at 522. The Court thus interpreted the statute to reserve the constitutional question whether Congress could regulate, without more, the "mere possession" of firearms. See id., at 339, n. 4, 92 S.Ct., at 518, n. 4; see also United States v. Five Gambling Devices, 346 U.S. 441, 448, 74 S.Ct. 190, 194, 98 L.Ed. 179 (1953) (plurality opinion) ("The principle is old and deeply imbedded in our jurisprudence that this Court will construe a statute in a manner that requires decision of serious constitutional questions only if the statutory language leaves no reasonable alternative"). Unlike the statute in Bass, § 922(q) has no express jurisdictional element which might limit its reach to a discrete set of firearm possessions that additionally have an explicit connection with or effect on interstate commerce.


The Cheeseburger Bill was apparently written by legislators who either deliberately ignored or were ignorant of Lopez, because it contains not even an arguable "jurisdictional element which would ensure, through case-by-case inquiry," that the law affects only those civil actions arising out of truly interstate commerce.

To counter this, my critics will surely point out numerous ways in which they believe the regulation of how and why plaintiffs in state civil courts can bring lawsuits against restaurants based on state tort law affects "interstate commerce." This is nothing new for the federal judiciary, for the Government (endorsed by a dissent from Justice Breyer) did the same thing in Lopez, and the Chief Justice responded:

Under the theories that the Government presents in support of § 922(q), it is difficult to perceive any limitation on federal power, even in areas such as criminal law enforcement or education where States historically have been sovereign. Thus, if we were to accept the Government's arguments, we are hard pressed to posit any activity by an individual that Congress is without power to regulate.

[...]

To uphold the Government's contentions here, we would have to pile inference upon inference in a manner that would bid fair to convert congressional authority under the Commerce Clause to a general police power of the sort retained by the States. Admittedly, some of our prior cases have taken long steps down that road, giving great deference to congressional action. The broad language in these opinions has suggested the possibility of additional expansion, but we decline here to proceed any further. To do so would require us to conclude that the Constitution's enumeration of powers does not presuppose something not enumerated, cf. Gibbons v. Ogden, supra, at 195, and that there never will be a distinction between what is truly national and what is truly local, cf. Jones & Laughlin Steel, supra, at 30, 57 S.Ct., at 621. This we are unwilling to do.


Lopez was not the end of the story. Because Congress, like most of the public, apparently failed to understand how serious the Supreme Court was about reviving these principles of federalism, it suffered another rebuke from the Court in United States v. Morrison, 529 U.S. 598 (2000).

The bill here contains no provision purporting to limit its reach to interstate commerce. It springs into existence federal regulation of state tort liability in all 50 states for anyone who is a "manufacturer, distributor, or seller of a food or non-alcoholic beverage product intended for human consumption", unconditionally. That definition includes the hot dog vendor on the corner of the street. It includes your local family-owned pizza place. To suggest that such a broad and radically sweeping change in national tort law in our society can be made by a single act of Congress is patently absurd, and unconstitutional under Lopez and progeny.

Thursday, March 11, 2004

The Cheeseburger Bill: constitutional?

Reuters reports that the so-called "Cheeseburger Bill", aka, H.R. Bill No. 339, was passed by our esteemed U.S. House of Representatives by a vote of 276-139. I challenge someone, anyone, to explain to me how this bill is constitutional. The proposed law states in relevant part:

The manufacturer, distributor, or seller of a food or non-alcoholic beverage product intended for human consumption shall not be subject to civil liability, in Federal or State court, whether stated in terms of negligence, strict liability, absolute liability, breach of warranty, or State statutory cause of action, relating to consumption of food or non-alcoholic beverage products unless the plaintiff proves that, at the time of sale, the product was not in compliance with applicable statutory and regulatory requirements.


Forgive my ignorance, for I had until now been under the impression that our Constitution had this "thingie" (as most of our Congressmen would probably call it) known as the Interstate Commerce Clause (see Section 8, cl. 3), which strictly governs and in fact limits the powers of Congress from regulating matters traditionally belonging to the states. This notion, I had once thought, was further reinforced by the Tenth Amendment. And if that wasn't enough, I could've sworn that the U.S. Supreme Court reinforced the principle even further in 1995 with its decision in United States v. Lopez.

Under all of these provisions and citations, the Cheeseburger Bill is simply and plainly as unconstitutional as a Big Mac cooked at a Burger King. What I find stunning is the lack of support this clear outcome finds in the blawgosphere. Jacob Sullum suggests that "it's disconcerting to see Congress instructing state courts to dismiss patently absurd lawsuits", but doesn't go much further than that. Overlawyered misses the issue completely. So far as I can tell, Radley Balko is one of the few and the proud to get it right.

In Memoriam: A lawyer we can all be proud of

At a time when the public's esteem for lawyers is at an all-time low, Fern Holland was a glaring example of why the stereotypes are bunk, as the AP reports. She died this week at the hands of Iraqi gunmen who shot her to death along with a fellow American, 35 miles south of Baghdad. Aged 33 at the time of her death, she had given up her position as an associate at an Oklahoma law firm to first join the Peace Corps, and then work in Iraq to frame the new Iraqi constitution, investigate human rights violations, and advocate for women's rights. In an email to a friend a few weeks ago, she wrote, prophetically:

"If I die, know that I'm doing precisely what I want to be doing."


May you rest in peace, Ms. Holland.

Update: I found this outdated website talking about Fern's accomplishments before she even left for Iraq:

The 7th grade world cultures class is organizing a pen pal program through Miss Fern Holland, a Peace Corps volunteer back from Namibia, Africa. She came to talk to the 7th grade classes about Namibia and to show native goods and many pictures of Onamutai, a village in northern Namibia.

Miss Holland is a native of Miami, Oklahoma and has practiced law in the state for several years. She decided to join the Peace Corps because she wanted to give back in appreciation for all the opportunities afforded her from living in the United States. She chose to go to Africa because of a love of the continent and an interest in helping the people living there.

If you are interested in learning more about the program, the village of Onamutai, or the country of Namibia, please contact Mary Grewe or Paige Anderson.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Regina v. Bertuzzi

The Curmedgeonly Clerk references an on-ice attack by Vancouver Canucks player Todd Bertuzzi against Colorado Avs forward Steve Moore, suggesting that "If Canadian law is anything like the law in U.S. jurisdictions (and it appears to be), Bertuzzi may indeed face serious charges depending on the facts."

Canada is of course primarily a common law country whose legal traditions share their English roots with the United States (avec la seule exception de la belle, et me preferee, province de Quebec). More importantly, Canada is also a civilized country, and its law naturally forbids the crime of assault. And perhaps even more notable is the fact that BC (British Columbia for the unacquainted Yanks out there) has precedent for successfully prosecuting an NHL player, Marty McSorley, for an assault that took place during a game, as did the Moore incident. Historically, the NHL seemed to have taken the attitude that game assaults constituted a special "exception" to the criminal code. In recent years, however, Canadians have expressed increasingly angry feelings toward the way their national sport has been managed when it comes to on-ice violence. See, e.g., this 1997 article by a Canadian, which I consider representative of many Canadian attitudes, mourning the loss of the "good old days" of hockey. The McSorley prosecution was a reflection of Canada's societal shift in attitude, and it should come as no surprise if Bertuzzi is prosecuted.

Earlier today, the New Jersey Attorney General ordered city leaders in Asbury Park, N.J., to stop issuing licenses for same-sex couples under threat of criminal prosecution. This action mirrors that of the New York Attorney General, who has gone further than just issuing threats and has actually charged the Mayor of New Paltz, N.Y., Jason West, with 19 criminal counts.

So what are these charges? I haven't looked into the New Jersey threats, but the New York charges against Mayor West are for "Solemnizing a Marriage Without a License" in violation of N.Y. Dom. Rel. Law s. 17 (McKinney 1999), which states:

If any clergyman or other person authorized by the laws of this state to perform marriage ceremonies shall solemnize or presume to solemnize any marriage between any parties without a license being presented to him or them as herein provided or with knowledge that either party is legally incompetent to contract matrimony as is provided for in this article he shall be guilty of a misdemeanor and on conviction thereof shall be punished by a fine not less than fifty dollars nor more than five hundred dollars or by imprisonment for a term not exceeding one year.


Imprisonment of one year is serious business. Under New York law, however, the prosecution will have to prove that West had personal knowledge, as to each individual license he granted to same-sex couples, that the couples were in fact of the same sex. Assuming that requirement is met, the prosecution will also have to establish that New York law does in fact prohibit same sex marriages, a question which is subject to some dispute, but with the weight of authority suggesting that the ban does in fact exist. Finally, if the ban exists, the prosecution will have to counter constitutional attacks on the ban under New York state law.

Let's assume, then, that New York law prohibits same-sex marriages. Is the law unconstitutional as a matter of New York state constitutional law? That is a question the courts have not yet answered. Consequently, whether Mr. Mayor can in fact face trial for breaking New York law should fairly be decided only after a New York appellate court decides whether New York's ban on gay marriages is constitutional or not. Given the fact that New York's attorney general himself personally supports gay marriages, which suggests to me that he believes there may be some merit to the constitutional challenge, was it appropriate for him to criminally charge Mayor West? Why couldn't he put the question to the courts through civil proceedings by asking for declaratory relief, rather than by subjecting West to the threat of imprisonment?

Tuesday, March 09, 2004

Well ain't this lovely? Earlier today I attended oral arguments on motions for summary judgment with a temperature of 101. I think I was very effective because opposing counsel and the judge saw the look of death on my face and seemed quite intimidated. Also, my voice made me sound like Darth Vader. "Luke, succumb to the dark side and grant this motion in its entirety."

I then swore to myself that tomorrow, I was absolutely not going into the office and would stay at home and either telecommute or just wallow in bed in misery until I felt better. That's fine, I work at a great law firm where I have the freedom to do that if I want. Only problem is that I have a major deposition the day after tomorrow for which I've done no preparation. Oh, and the deponent is another lawyer.

So basically, I'm #$&@ed. If you don't hear from me again in 48 hours, folks, move on without me.

Monday, March 08, 2004

Earlier today in what I consider a delightful taste of its own medicine, the Boy Scouts of America were denied certiorari by the U.S. Supreme Court, in a case in which the Boy Scouts claimed they were--I'm not making this up folks--discriminated against. In July of 2003, the 2nd Circuit Court of Appeals had affirmed judgment against the Boy Scouts, holding that a Connecticut law stripping the Boy Scouts of various state-funded entitlements did not discriminate against the organization because of its exercising its 1st Amendment right to discriminate against homosexuals. The Supreme Court refused to overturn that ruling.

By the way, the 1st Amendment and Boy Scouts v. Dale gave them no such "right to discriminate", as I will explain in a later post.

Another article from Newsweek/MSNBC.com condemns Martha's lawyers (and Martha) for an entirely avoidable outcome that landed her in jail. One fact I wasn't aware of previously: the government had offered her a plea bargain which would have kept her a free woman, albeit on probation, if she'd admitted guilt for Making a False Statement. She rejected the deal.

Another interesting fact: her lawyers' defense consisted of 10 minutes of testimony by a single witness. It almost makes you wonder if she has a potential ineffective assistance of counsel claim under the 6th Amendment. (See the 1984 Supreme Court decision in Strickland v. Washington for the seminal case describing an ineffective assistance of counsel claim).

Sunday, March 07, 2004

Martha Stewart was found guilty on March 6. A well-done summary of all the blunders she and her attorneys made throughout this ordeal is contained in this article from Time Magazine. At the risk of sounding like a Monday morning quarterback, Time's article includes what I think was her most serious error of all (or, more accurately, her advisers' most serious error): the decision to speak to federal investigators about the stock trade that led to her downfall. That decision, after all, formed the entire basis of the charges against her: Making False Statements (18 USC s. 1001); Obstruction of Justice (18 USC s. 1505); and Perjury (18 USC s. 1621).

The 5th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution allowed Martha the right to not answer a single one of the questions posed to her by investigators. Yet when they approached her for questioning, she waived that right. With as much wealth and associated resources someone like her has, it always shocked me that either her lawyers failed to advise her that she had nothing to gain and everything to lose by talking, or that she failed to consult with her lawyers prior to talking. A decision as foolish as this is made on a daily basis by ordinary citizens facing criminal investigations, because the average person can't afford to have a lawyer by his side 24/7. But Martha can. It didn't help. She lied. And unless her appeal is successful (not likely, in my humble opinion), she will be imprisoned for it.

Saturday, March 06, 2004

Howard Stern.

So let me get this straight. Clear Channel has decided to yank the Howard Stern Show from six of its stations where he was being played. The reason for this decision is of course Clear Channel's solid tradition of providing morally uplifting broadcast material to its listeners, which conflicted sharply with Stern's style and content:

"... the Howard Sterns of the world are exceptions to the rule. They don't represent what Clear Channel is all about. They will no longer have a platform on our stations." (Washington Post).


The specific, shocking, and unprecedented incident that led to this move was an unknown caller to the show who asked one of Stern's guests whether he'd ever had sex with a black woman (using the N-word), and whether the guest had ever engaged in anal sex. This, apparently, crossed the line when it came to Clear Channel's standards of decency. Specifically,

It was vulgar, offensive and insulting, not just to women and African Americans but to anyone with a sense of common decency. (Washington Post).


It's nice to know that Clear Channel is such a pillar of decency in broadcasting. Just one thing: why wasn't it a pillar 2 months ago before Janet flashed her evil boob to the world? On my way to work each morning, I occasionally listen to the Howard Stern Show (I flip back and forth between that and NPR; talk about a shift in extremes). Over the past few years, I'd say the N-word is used at least once every 2 or 3 shows. In fact one of Howard's regular guests happens to be a grand dragon (or grand wizard or whatever those clowns call themselves) of the KKK. And the topic of anal sex is something I'd be shocked to know did not come up during any one of Stern's shows over the years. That's why I'm a bit bewildered by the fact that Clear Channel, after years of profiting and collecting ad revenues by broadcasting Stern's shows knowing perfectly well what it's about, suddenly decided that Stern "doesn't represent what Clear Channel is about." What exactly is Clear Channel about, then?

Hypocrisy.

Wednesday, March 03, 2004

The French Parliament today passed a bill by a vote of 276-20 that would ban all religious apparel and signs that "conspicuously show" a student's religious affiliation. (MSNBC)

Such a law would be plainly unconstitutional in the United States, under the 1st Amendment right to free speech. Although, like the French, we Americans are strong supporters of constitutionally-enforced secularism as evidenced by the Establishment of Religion Clause of the Constitution, American secularism doesn't go as far as the French version. This is because the American right to freedom from state-sponsored religion is intertwined with our right to free speech and expression, which is a battle that is fiercely fought in our courtrooms every day. (The Supreme Court's 5-4 decision in Santa Fe Ind. School Dist. v. Doe is a perfect example).

In France, by contrast, the notion of free speech is typical of most western democracies, in that it doesn't receive nearly as much protection as it does in the US. Therefore, it is easier for French legislators to enforce their beliefs in state secularism with much more intrusive measures than we would tolerate here. Muslim headscarves, Jewish skullcaps and large Christian crosses: all banned from French schools under this new law. In the US, such a ban would violate our right to express ourselves through the clothes we wear and religious symbols we choose to communicate our beliefs. In France, this right is trumped by the greater "state interest" in enforcing secularism.

Without a doubt I favor the US approach, but it's unfair to criticize the French without looking at the greater context. Both countries view secularism as an important state goal. The only difference is that the US stops short of enforcing secularism where individual liberties begin. The French, on the other hand, not only enforce secularism by forbidding state action that endorses religion (like the US), but also intrude on individual liberties in order to avoid even the appearance of religious endorsement in public facilities. Why the difference? Culture, and history. The French simply have a much different history of having to deal with religious controversy than we Americans have had. Much blood was shed during the French Revolution over the issue of how powerful the Church should be in French society. Religion was important to American revolutionaries too, of course, but our primary antagonist in the 18th century was not the Church but rather the British monarchy.

So, there's a difference, and it's an understandeable difference. I would favor the French learning from the American experience with secularism, but given the world's hostile view of our society these days I suppose it'll be a cold day in hell before that will ever happen.

Tuesday, March 02, 2004

Nunc Pro Tunc cites, inter alia, the Restatements of Conflicts as authority to state that the Constitution's Full Faith and Credit Clause doesn't force one state to recognize a gay marriage entered into in another state. A more accurate statement would be to cite to the Full Faith & Credit Clause itself, which the U.S. Supreme Court has specifically held "does not require a State to apply another State's law in violation of its own legitimate public policy." Nevada v. Hall, 99 S.Ct. 1182 (1979). In other words, the FF&C Clause compels one state to recognize the legal acts of another, but that power has limits and those limits are defined by the public policy of the state.

In any case, NPT and I are in agreement on one point: the Federal Marriage Amendment is a useless redundancy that will accomplish nothing. It's all politics, folks.

About Me

I am a civil litigator in my 4th year of practice. I work in a firm with around 100 lawyers, in one of America's 10 largest cities. The purpose of this blog isn't to market myself or my firm (obviously, since I write anonymously). My purpose is simply to maintain a running journal of my professional life, for my own enjoyment. If I can simultaneously maintain the interest of readers who want a peek at the real-life trials and tribulations of a civil litigator, all the better.

A few disclaimers: First, I occasionally change details when I'm talking about various aspects of my work. This is to protect the confidentiality of anyone concerned. Second, I write most of my posts on the cuff, without time or energy to edit or ensure superior writing style. Third, Blogger allows me to moderate which comments are published and which are not, and I exercise that discretion freely. While this blog is a far cry from the New York Times, I am no more obligated to publish reader comments than any newspaper would be to publish every letter to the editor it receives. Comments that merely disagree with my opinions will usually be published. But I will reject comments that are ad hominem or in my judgment disrespectful, off topic, or otherwise unworthy of publication in my completely subjective opinion. Because I choose to sometimes write about personal issues on this blog, I often receive comments of a personal nature. My policy on rejecting versus publishing comments of this kind is even more subjective and blatantly biased. So, if you want to criticize, say, my relationships with women, or (your perception of) my personality, don't be shocked if your comment never shows up. Glowing flattery, on the other hand, may be posted as a headline in bold lettering and is strongly encouraged.

Finally, I suppose it would be unlawyerly of me to not put in writing here that nothing I say in this blog is intended to be legal advice and no one reading this is my client without an express, written, signed agreement from me (or my anonymous law firm).