More on the rewards of being present…

Listen to this blog post:

There is a moment in every courtroom presentation when preparation has done all it can do and presence must take the baton. Trial lawyers spend months, sometimes years, learning the record, refining themes, testing demonstratives, preparing witnesses, building outlines, rehearsing openings, editing closings, and anticipating difficult questions.  

But the reward of preparation is not the flawless delivery of lines in a play or that nothing unexpected happens. The reward of preparation is that when something unexpected does happen (and it always does), you are still there, not clinging so tightly to your script that you miss what is unfolding in front of you. You are able to listen, notice, adjust, and respond, be human. 

Admittedly, this is easier said than done. In court, the pressure is amplified. Time is compressed. The judge may interrupt. A witness may answer in a way no one predicted or ever heard before. A juror may visibly struggle with a point you thought was obvious (or at least look like she’s struggling). A demonstrative may draw attention for a reason that has nothing to do with the point you intended to make. In those moments, trial warriors do not merely perform. They live for them and they stay present. 

One recent example remains with me from this year’s ABA False Claims Act Mock Trial Institute. During an examination, Jack Fernandez, playing the role of a witness, looked at a graphic being used by the examining attorney played by Chad Blumenfield and noticed something small but important. The graphic used eight colored icons, which in our haste (after all, it was not a real case), we assumed was 6% of a total patient population. It did not show six patient icons as originally conceived for a number of reasons. When we first mocked it up, the 6 icons among 100 were actually having the opposite effect as intended: they stood out rather than looked minimus. It was a strategic decision in order to make the 6% appear a bit smaller than 6 of 100 (it was actually 8 icons out of 290 because AI has still not mastered math). That observation could have become a detour, or worse, a credibility problem for the advocate using the demonstrative. 

Instead, the examining attorney stayed in the moment. He did not argue with the witness. He did not pretend the point had not been made. He did not let the observation knock him off balance. He eventually came back with, “To be fair, the title says 6%, not 6 patients.” 

The response did not overreach. It did not ask the factfinder to ignore what had just been observed. It brought the focus back to the purpose of the graphic: not a literal count of people, but a visual expression of a percentage that was actually more effective than 100 patient icons because showing more patients minimized the 6%, which helped the defense. In one sentence, the lawyer acknowledged the witness’s point, protected all that went into developing the demonstrative, and kept the examination moving. 

That kind of response is not accidental. It grows out of the concept of being deeply prepared and genuinely attentive at the same time. The lawyer knew what the graphic was meant to do. He understood the title mattered. He was listening closely enough to catch the witness’s critique, and he had enough command of the material to answer without sounding defensive.  

That is thinking on your feet, a skill vital to success in the courtroom. 

#athomeinthecourtroom #podiumperfect #decisivetrialdesign #dontgototrialwithoutus