Holding Court Once More... For A Day...

"I'll see you in Court!!!"

This oft-used catch-phrase in the movies was for the greater part of my working life a matter-of-factly statement describing the location of my next meeting with a client, friend or opponent.

And then one day, it all suddenly ended. One moment, I was busy attending applications, hearings, preparing for trial, always on the move geographically. The next, I was a sedentary, desk-bound office executive, a victim (or beneficiary) of my abrupt decision to seek a change of surroundings.

For a while today, I got to relive my former life as I headed to the Supreme Court to oversee a trial in which my company had an interest.

The premises as usual looked serene and peaceful when I walked in early in the morning. I had always found it deceptive that, what with its quiet ambience and soft-lighting, this relatively new building could be the battleground where some of the most acrimonious disputes in the land came to be resolved, a place where lives were changed and sometimes taken away.

It did not take long for the tranquil feeling to be forcefully dissipated, as lawyers
arrived in their unvarying black and whites, first in a trickle, then in droves. Many of my friends have told me that they could never be anything else but a litigator, for where else would one get the adrenaline rush (err.. Casino, turf club, roller coaster ride, rock concert?) and the intensity (err... football match, argument with spouse?) of a cut-and-thrust battle of wits and wills?

I remember the adrenaline rush, all right. For all the times that I had stayed up the night before to prepare for a hearing, I never once felt sleepy or tired while waiting for my turn to appear before the judge or registrar (though Red Bull and its heavy nicotinamide content - the equivalent of 4 cigarettes I have been told - might have had something to do with that). But that is where the similarities end. Where my more 'adversarial' friends felt anticipative excitement, I only tasted bile and felt an impending sense of dread or doom, depending on the strength of my case. Where so many of my counterparts couldn't wait to show the world how the logic of their case was incontrovertible, I always feared that my poor, innocent client (who of course was so clearly in the right) would lose his because I would forget to make an important submission or could not respond quickly enough to a witness's diabolical reply.

Watching the legal eagles surge through the metal detectors armed with their court bags, stuffed no doubt with Bundles of Authorities (or Documents or Pleadings and/or Affidavits), I began to feel the nervous tension synonymous with 'trial-day' all over again. And then I just as quickly remembered that I was no longer one of them - a realization that was nostalgia tinged with relief and regret in equal measure.

You see, unlike what many of my closest friends might think, I always enjoyed being a lawyer and yes, I thought that it was a noble profession. It sounds corny, but I always found it fascinating to study and analyze the pillars which underpinned, and the boundaries which defined, the rights of every man and how they balanced and interacted with those of another. These are things that one only gets to do on a regular basis as a litigator.

Only problem was - I did not enjoy articulating my arguments under pressure, faced with a (yeah, must be so...)misguided opponent, his stupid witness on the stand and a judge who just would not understand how watertight my argument was (yeah, that must have been the reason why I even lost any case at all. Yeah!). But more seriously, trial advocacy, while not as crucial in Singapore as, say, in the States, remains a hallmark of a good litigator - a glib tongue is still what the man in the street expects when he hears the word "lawyer". And I'm not saying I was bad at advocacy. I'm just saying that I did not enjoy it.

When, while still an undergraduate, I was taking a part-time course in Mass Communications, an American lecturer, when told that I had held back in making a comment, asked me how I was to become a good lawyer that way. I wanted to reply that in Singapore, we are taught as lawyers that it is good to speak well but absolutely imperative that we think soundly (even if it means not speaking) while in the States, they have perhaps got it in reverse. But I thought better of it and held my counsel.

I do not deny that the importance of tone, inflection and/or conviction in one's voice, the ability to think on one's feet and/or to make pithy comments in a Court hearing can make or break one's case. But I do wonder whether it is sometimes scary that hugely important decisions are made on the basis of questions asked and answered under intense pressure.

That is why I have always enjoyed making my arguments in writing, when one is allowed time to sit back and organize one's thoughts and where likewise, the reader is afforded the luxury of more than just a few fleeting moments to form an impression, and then to weigh all the countervailing arguments. As is the case with speaking, good language and clever use of words are powerful weapons when it comes to writing. The difference, I have often felt, is that writing reflects much more one's ability to present arguments after considerable thought whereas trial advocacy tests one's ability to effectively make those same arguments in a short space of time.

I'm not making any judgment as to which method of persuasion is better but it is obvious which I feel am more adept at. It is also clear that I like writing. I hope you like my writing too.