Jurors are not dumb. They miss little. They watch you and your team in the courtroom, the back of the courtroom, hallways, restrooms, parking lots, restaurants.
Update: A trial-lawyer and commenter just reminded us that wood-shedding is not soley for those smirking oassociates or nasty-ass paralegals who hate life. Plaintiffs, defendants, employees for both, fact witnesses and expert witnesses of parties need the same wood-shedding or cautionary harangue. In-house-counsel? No, generally not. But there is always a first time. See comments below. (4:10 pm EST Wednesday, September 10.)
Jurors will always surprise you. No matter what an expert might tell you, or how hard you’ve worked at selection, you are always wrong about two or three of them. You’ve heard that.
Creep Control. Well, now hear this: don’t go out of your way to antagonize jurors with sideshows which have nothing to do with the trial itself. Bring no “creeps” with you to trial. Keep them in the office. If they must show up–even for a moment–teach them to “un-creep” themselves, starting at 60 second intervals, and practicing until they can hold out for five minutes at a stretch.
Hint: They pretend they are happy confident people who genuinely like other humans. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat. And remember, you seek progress–not perfection. Be gentle at first.
Non-Creeps. Bring to trial no “non-creeps” capable of any snide, “mean” or creepy gesture, facial expression or body language glitch lasting more than one half-second. Instruct your non-creeps to read this post to be on the safe side. Reformed creeps–you spotted them early and sent them to rehab but they are ultimately powerless over they way they look or act–need pep talks, and brief courtroom appearances. See above.
Recovering Creeps Who Under Pressure of Trial May Relapse and Fold or Explode in Public.. See above
A Note on Nerds. In doses, however, a few generic dweebs and law weenies running in and out of the courtroom carrying a huge box of documents, a phone message from your wife about Nantucket later this summer with the Bloors, a good luck note from your mistress, your lucky bow-tie, your spats, your black cape with red lining, or your reserve pair of Bass Weejuns–the kind of people you routinely made fun of in high school–is okay.
Jurors expect all that. You’re a lawyer. You live in a world where nerds are almost normal. Jurors get and tolerate that. But jurors just don’t like self-important “assisting creeps”.
That’s really personal. Let us explain more.
Ten years ago, after a two-and-a-half week trial, we won a jury defense verdict in a breach of contract and fraud trial involving three established companies and a super-nail biter which no one could call.
Everyone had “bad” facts to deal with.
All counsel and most witnesses did a fine job.