Legal Flashcards
(173 cards)
Law in American Society
America is a nation of laws. From the very beginning, America has
grappled with the question of how much power the government should have over the people, and the rules under which people interact with one another. When America broke away from England in 1776, it famously
rejected the notion that a king gets to make those rules.
Instead, the power of the government and of lawmaking belongs to the people.
zz When our country was founded, the Founding Fathers were, in essence, breaking the law. By rebelling against the British monarchy, they were, in the eyes of England, committing treason. To make the case that breaking away from England was the right thing to do, the Founding Fathers wrote the Declaration of Independence in 1776, proclaiming that “governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed
Peoples rule
People’s rule was revolutionary then, remains rare now. Founders swapped out British law, penned a Constitution in 1787. This text restrained government, offered an undo button for the populace.
Law’s omnipresent here. We debate, adjust, and trust it. Power rotates every election. Citizens, not just elites, shape these statutes through votes or court challenges.
Lawyers dominate. Half of U.S. Presidents wielded legal expertise, as do Congressional members and corporate titans. They’re courtroom regulars, but also lead agencies dictating tax to internet rules.
So America—a stage where law’s the script, lawyers are both actors and directors, and the audience, the people, can rewrite the lines
STRUCTURAL DISTINCTIONS
Common law reigns in America, an inheritance from England. Continental Europe favors civil law—judges decipher codes, but their words don’t echo. American common law mingles statutes with judicial sayings. Judges interpret, yet follow past rulings.
Balance is key. Judge and legislature both tethered. One interprets; the other gets interpreted. A circular dance of power, limiting each participant.
Our courts love conflict, thrive in adversity. Truth emerges from this battle of best arguments. Contrast this with Europe’s inquisitorial approach, where the judge doubles as detective.
In essence, American law’s a living creature—fed by past and present, statutes and judgements—forever evolving, yet bound by its own history.
LEVELS OF REVIEW
Trial courts: the front lines. Judge oversees, jury optional. Civil or criminal—two playgrounds. Civil pits citizen against citizen; criminal pits state against individual. Disagree? Appeal. Time-sensitive, so wave your red flag in trial.
Appellate courts: no witnesses, no jury, just legal wrangling before a judge panel. They dissect prior rulings, not the case’s meat and bones. If they overturn, they pen why. Final stop? Supreme Court. Here, judgments either ossify or shatter.
FEDERALISM AND PREEMPTION
Dual systems, dual codes. State law here, federal there, sometimes they brawl. Born from Revolutionary distrust, this double helix limits federal reach while empowering states. Federal courts can’t meddle in all matters; they’re picky, selective—choose only federal questions or interstate spats.
Don’t forget, law isn’t just inked by legislators or judged by jurists. Constitutions, treaties, regulations—each has its weight. But the U.S. Constitution is the ultimate umpire, the rulebook that overrules. Below that, a cascade: federal laws, state constitutions, local ordinances.
THINKING LIKE A LAWYER
Learning to think like a lawyer is like learning to wield a sword. Sharpening your ability to cut through clutter to what matters: the law and the argument.
Precedent reigns in this realm, much like battle-hardened tactics dominate a war. It’s the concept of “This has worked before, so let’s not reinvent the wheel.” In a common law system, judges don’t just apply laws; they morph them through their decisions. It’s like building a castle; the original design matters, but so do the additions and repairs over the years.
Law is conservative. This isn’t about politics. It’s about stability. If each judge were a painter, tasked with a blank canvas every time, the gallery of law would be a chaotic mess. Decisions build upon decisions, preserving a semblance of order.
When lawyers pore over judicial opinions, they’re not just reading; they’re dissecting. They seek the anchor of past decisions, the precedence that will weight their arguments with gravity. When a lawyer cites a case, he’s saying, “Look, this fortress has stood before; it will stand again.”
Two things matter: the holding and the dicta. The holding is the king on the battlefield, decisive and binding. Dicta are like the scouts, useful but not the main force. Lawyers aim to fortify their cases with binding authority—the steel-clad knights of the legal realm. But sometimes, persuasive authority, akin to mercenaries, can suffice if their credibility is high enough.
In essence, thinking like a lawyer is knowing how to play this grand chess game, understanding each piece’s role, and leveraging the layout of the board—precedent—to win. No whims, no recklessness, just calculated moves and counter-moves, rooted in centuries of battle-tested wisdom.
TEXTUAL INTERPRETATION
Legal analysis is a precision game. Every word in a statute is your Rubicon, a boundary that can make or break a case. Bright-line rules are the walls; cross them and you’re out. No room for sob stories.
But sometimes the wall has a crack, a word or phrase open to interpretation. In these moments, strategy trumps rigidity. The Constitution is a maze, not a wall. You can argue the literal text or the spirit behind it, but ignore neither. The text is your battlefield and your weapon. Use it wisely.
LOGICAL REASONING
Lawyers fight with analogy and logic. Picture a gladiator in Rome’s Colosseum. If he knows the terrain and tactics of a previous victor, he’s likely to emulate, not improvise. He matches move-for-move, paralleling the previous fight to ensure a win. That’s analogy in law; line up your case with a winner, hammer the shared traits, discard the fluff. Be ready for counterstrikes that aim to dismantle your historical model.
Aristotle would be a first-rate attorney. His syllogism is the blade of deductive logic: A meets B; hence, C must follow. In a case, A is the law, B is your specific situation, and C is the verdict. But remember, a dulled blade won’t cut. If your major premise is flawed, your conclusion crumbles.
Then comes the archer, striking from a distance, employing inductive logic. His arrows are specific cases that, when gathered, form a compelling pattern. This isn’t about one sharp shot, but how many arrows hit the mark. Your quiver better be diverse, or else your archery, your argument, loses its pull.
THE IMPORTANCE OF REPRESENTATION
Lawyers serve two masters: their client and the justice system. It’s a complex but essential balance.
In the U.S., the legal system is adversarial. Lawyers for each side present their case, while a judge ensures rules are followed. This method puts the burden of evidence and argument on the parties involved, which usually produces a more thorough factual record.
Representation is crucial. A defendant without a lawyer is at a severe disadvantage, often unaware of how to even begin defending themselves. Even if guilty, their rights might have been violated during the legal process.
Defending the “undesirable” is uncomfortable but essential. Good defense lawyers hold the system accountable. Their work ensures that the law is applied correctly and fairly, benefiting society at large. Without competent defense, the justice system risks being unjust.
PROFESSIONAL CONDUCT
If a lawyer thinks their client is guilty, it shouldn’t affect representation. The guilt or innocence is for the jury to decide, not the lawyer. If the lawyer were to make this call, it would essentially deny the client a fair trial and violate the U.S. Constitution, which aims to prevent such tyranny.
Beyond constitutional duties, the lawyer also has ethical obligations to their client. Representation must be zealous within the bounds of the law, regardless of personal feelings about the client’s guilt. To do otherwise would compromise both the justice system and the lawyer’s professional integrity.
PROFESSIONAL CONDUCT I
If a client tells a lawyer to be as aggressive as possible, the lawyer must still operate within the ethical and legal framework. The ABA’s Model Rules of Professional Conduct act as a guide. Rule 1.3 says to act “with commitment and dedication” but never beyond the law or ethics.
Authority between client and lawyer is split: the client decides objectives; the lawyer figures out how to achieve them. Rule 1.2 states that the lawyer must abide by the client’s decisions regarding the goals of representation, but retains the authority for tactical decisions. So, in a criminal case, a client chooses the plea, whether to waive a jury trial, and if they will testify. The lawyer carries out these decisions through their chosen means, acting almost as a field general executing a strategy.
So, even if a client wants an “attack dog,” the lawyer must consider ethical rules and the law. Aggressiveness has its limits. The stage is set by the client, but the performance—always within the bounds of the script known as the law—is up to the lawyer.
PROFESSIONAL CONDUCT II
True, Rule 1.3 champions zeal and diligence, but not at the expense of reason or decorum. The lawyer as an “attack dog” can stray into the unethical, sabotaging not just their immediate case but their standing in the eyes of the court. Being adversarial doesn’t mean being antagonistic. The fight is with facts and precedent, not fists and provocations.
There’s a delicate balance here: represent your client robustly but respect the system you serve. You’re not merely an advocate for your client; you’re also an officer of the court. Just as a general respects the rules of warfare, a lawyer should honor the laws and procedures that underpin the legal system. Rule 1.3’s requirement for “commitment and dedication” to the client doesn’t mean leaving respect at the courthouse door.
It’s a balancing act, akin to a tightrope walker. You can’t go too far in one direction without tipping the whole endeavor into disarray. Act with enough force to represent your client effectively, but with enough restraint to uphold the integrity of the legal process. Anything less would be a disservice to both your client and the court.
Attorney-Client Privilege & Confessions
If a client confesses guilt, that’s confidential. The lawyer is tied to silence, akin to a monk sworn to secrecy in a medieval abbey.
Rule 1.6 of the Model Rules insists the attorney mustn’t spill this confidential information. In history, codes of silence often have exemptions—think of spies permitted to reveal secrets under specific threats. Similarly, Rule 1.6 allows for disclosure in particular cases, like preventing certain death.
False Testimony
But if the client then lies under oath, claiming innocence, the lawyer finds himself in a bind that would make Machiavelli wince. He knows the client is lying, but the confession is still a secret. The Model Rules require remedial action.
The lawyer could seek to withdraw from the case or, if that fails, disclose the lie to the court. Imagine a diplomat who knows of impending war but is constrained by non-disclosure agreements. There are moral imperatives that can override contractual obligations.
Client Demands Aggressive Representation
A client may want his lawyer to be as fierce as a wartime general, but the rules, like international laws of war, place limits.
A lawyer isn’t just serving his client but the legal system, and judges, like neutral states in a conflict, frown upon unreasonable aggression. It can tarnish a lawyer’s reputation as surely as rogue nations tarnish their international standing.
Civil Lawsuits.
Civil Lawsuits: Ethical intricacies don’t vanish in civil suits. A lawyer must still navigate an obstacle course of ethical considerations and strategic decisions. Say a client insists on a high-risk, aggressive strategy in a civil case.
Like a commander questioning a risky assault, the lawyer must weigh the potential harm against the probable benefits, all within the boundaries of ethical rules and courtroom decorum.
BEFORE THE TRIAL
Evidence Gathering: The Pre-Trial Staple
For a plaintiff, evidence gathering starts before filing the lawsuit. Interviews, reports, and expert consultations are key. Defense lawyers, on the other hand, usually get involved after the case is filed and employ formal discovery methods.
Interrogatories: The Written Query
Interrogatories are sets of written questions sent from one party to another, requiring written responses under oath. They help identify witnesses and reveal key documents. They’re essential for both plaintiffs and defendants.
Depositions: Recorded Testimonies
Depositions are Q&A sessions with potential witnesses or parties in the case. Done under oath, they are transcribed and can be used later to contradict inconsistent statements made during the trial. They’re particularly useful for defense attorneys but serve both sides.
Motions: The Legal Framework
Pretrial motions help structure the trial. They can challenge evidence, jurisdiction, or even the presiding judge. Both sides use these to set the rules of engagement for the courtroom battle.
Bail: The Financial Guarantee
In criminal cases, bail allows the defendant to remain free until the trial. It serves as a financial guarantee that the defendant will show up for court.
Strategy: Fluid and Adaptable
Both sides must adapt strategies based on evidence, witness reliability, and legal interpretations. The pretrial phase allows lawyers to assess the strengths and weaknesses of their cases and adjust accordingly.
Right to Trial by Jury
Right to Trial by Jury
The Sixth Amendment guarantees the right to a jury trial, emphasizing collective decision-making by the citizenry. Jury selection involves querying potential jurors to uncover any biases. Jurors can be excused for undue hardship, and attorneys have the power to eliminate candidates through legal challenges. Jury instructions are negotiated between lawyers and the judge and significantly influence the trial outcome.
Like the careful planning in the pretrial phase, jury selection and instruction are critical to shaping the course and final verdict of a trial. Both serve as vital mechanisms to ensure fairness and justice.
Media Influence in High-Profile Trials
Media Influence in High-Profile Trials
In cases that attract a lot of public and media attention, finding an unbiased jury becomes difficult. Media coverage can shape public opinion, affecting the trial’s fairness. Lawyers can’t ignore this media influence; they have to account for it while representing their clients.
Opening Statements in Trials
Opening Statements in Trials
The opening statement is a pivotal moment for an attorney. It’s their first interaction with the jury, shaping initial impressions and framing the case’s narrative.
Key Points:
- Theory of the Case: The attorney’s opening hinges on their theory—what they argue the case is fundamentally about and why their client should win.
- Orientation: Think of the opening as a table of contents. It previews what’s coming—main points of contention, key witnesses, and what each side aims to prove.
- Significance: Without an opening, a jury is a ship without a compass. Individual witness testimonies would float like isolated islands, lacking context or meaning.
- Moment of Primacy: The first few lines of the opening statement are crucial. It’s the one point where you’re guaranteed the jury’s full attention, so make it count. Place your most compelling points here.
The opening statement isn’t just a roadmap; it’s a chance to captivate the jury, setting the tone for the entire trial.
Opening Statements: The Lawyer as Ethos
Jurors, fresh in their seats, seek signs—clues about what’s to come and who to trust. They want someone to believe in, and as a lawyer, you aim to be that beacon.
Opening Statements: The Lawyer as Ethos
Jurors, fresh in their seats, seek signs—clues about what’s to come and who to trust. They want someone to believe in, and as a lawyer, you aim to be that beacon.
Essentials:
First Impressions: Key to securing a jury’s trust. You want to be seen as one of the “good guys.”
Persuasion and Ethos: Aristotle’s ancient concept still holds. Ethos—your character—is a fundamental element in persuading others.
Tone Matters: An aggressive or sarcastic tone can backfire. Jurors are still forming their first impressions, so opt for a tone that’s both convincing and credible.
Don’t Be a Pushover or a Bully: Weakness can betray you. If you mumble, hesitate, or fumble, you risk appearing as if you don’t believe in your own case. Prepare and practice.
Avoid Hyperbole: Exaggeration can be your downfall. The opposing counsel will seize any chance to discredit you, ruining your credibility along the way.
Acknowledging Weaknesses: Own the facts that don’t favor you. If you know opposing counsel will highlight them, beat them to the punch. It actually makes you more credible.
An opening statement is more than a mere introduction. It’s a careful act of balancing character, tone, and facts, designed not just to inform, but to persuade. Remember, a good lawyer doesn’t just state facts; he or she constructs credibility.
PERSUADING WITH PATHOS
To wield pathos is to marshal the emotional arsenal. You’ve got to transform sterile facts into living, breathing narratives. What’s a contract but a promise made tangible? Making that promise and breaking it—there’s your story. It’s not a case of legal terminologies; it’s a case of betrayal.
Juries don’t rally behind abstract concepts; they rally behind people, behind stories. Talk contracts, and you’ll lose them. Talk about Laurie Kind, her small-town shop gutted by fire, and the insurance company that left her in the lurch—you’ve got their attention. Now, the jury’s not just evaluating a claim; they’re deciding if a promise means anything.
So, the effective attorney doesn’t just deal in facts. They deal in relatable stories, in human follies and virtues, in broken promises. They play the chords of emotion while striking the notes of reason. A symphony of ethos and pathos; that’s your strategy.
Logos for Lawyers
The opening statement is more than just a rundown of facts; it’s a crafted narrative designed to set the stage for what’s to come. Under Aristotle’s tenets of persuasion, ethos, pathos, and logos play crucial roles. Ethos establishes the lawyer’s credibility, demanding a tone of conviction, not aggression. Pathos aims for the jury’s emotional investment, turning a bland contract dispute into a tale of broken promises. Logos relies on logical structure, aligning facts in an obvious sequence that makes the lawyer’s point without breaking the rule against arguing.
In criminal cases, the prosecutor may lead with events that establish the defendant’s motive, while the defense could focus on flaws in evidence processing. Attention to detail is key; never introduce facts that can’t be proven, and avoid jeopardizing your own case by mentioning evidence that the court has excluded. Failure here invites the opposition to counterattack. Lawyers must find the sweet spot: presenting a coherent, compelling narrative without crossing into forbidden argument.
Choosing Your Witnesses: The First Line of Attack
Choosing Your Witnesses: The First Line of Attack
Selecting witnesses is akin to a general choosing his soldiers. Align each witness with your overarching theory of the case, creating a blueprint that outlines what each will contribute. Don’t call everyone connected to the case; opt for those whose testimony is indispensable.
Witness Sequence: The Rhetorical March
The order of your witnesses isn’t just a list; it’s a story arc. Begin with one who sets the scene or provides a broad context, proceed with those who fill in the details, and close with your most powerful or impactful witness. This sequential strategy etches your case into the jurors’ minds.
The Art of Questioning: Navigating the Battlefield
Questions are your arrows; aim them well. Establish your witness’s credibility and relevance to the case first. Then delve into the crux of their testimony. Structure your questions like chapters in a book, using transition sentences to indicate a shift from one focal point to another.
Witness Testimony: A Vivid Narrative
Let the witness do the talking. Too much prompting from you risks transforming a compelling narrative into dull monologue, losing both the jury’s attention and their faith in the witness. Like a bard enchanting an audience, your witness should turn fact into fascinating tale, securing the jury’s belief.