While I’ve had my head up my ass, a lot of great discussion has taken place in the blogosphere regarding the notion of justice and our role as criminal defense attorneys in that great ideal. While I consider the discussion to be valuable, I think what’s even more interesting is really WHY people choose to become criminal defense lawyers. Look, we have to know that there is something a bit odd about a person who would kill anyone who harmed one of their own family members, but would fight to the death if someone was accused of doing that same sort of awful thing to someone else’s family member. It is a contradiction, it’s hypocritical. So, why do we do it. Not just why do we do it, but why are we so drawn to it that some of us (not mentioning any names) come back to it.
I’ve been having this discussion with a few good friends. My friend Mark Kamish, a criminal defense lawyer in Indiana, and I met years ago at the National Criminal Defense College in Macon, Georgia. We chat on the phone on our commutes home from work, and the topic of conversation – after general traffic griping and talk about our kids (his are big, mine are little) is criminal defense, the law, the way it ‘used to be’ (you know us old folks love to talk about the good old days) and why the fuck we do this. Jamison Koehler and I had a long chat while I was fake starbucks lawyering it the other day as well about egos, the desire to win, and something about needing to be the center of attention.
It is, honestly, hard to define what sort of person becomes a criminal defense lawyer. Terry Kindlon tried to explain what makes us tick in several of his emails . Is it really about ‘justice’ and serving those least among us? I like to think, on those days when I’m in court fighting the good fight, that I’m doing a service for the good of humankind. People have rights, I make sure they are taken care of. As a small human being, I like that I can play a larger than life role in all of this. But then, isn’t that about me? About how standing in a courtroom and hearing the sound of my own voice resonate in the well makes me feel? What about the justice? Is it merely an afterthought or a nifty collateral consequence of me being able to strut and swagger? Here’s the bigger question: Does it even matter?
Here’s a description of me. Let’s see how many of you criminal defense attorneys see yourself this way as well:
I am very good at compartmentalizing. Most people don’t know what’s really happening behind the curtain. My hands rarely shake (genetics, maybe, since my pop is a surgeon, after all) and no one would ever tell I throw up three times before opening statements. What happens in one part of my life rarely affects what happens in another. I suppose, that is part of why I can defend someone accused (and even convicted of) child sexual abuse without a second thought. I am literal and competitive. I can’t draw a circle with a compass or a straight line with a ruler and I can’t sew or decorate my house. I run marathons and have cooked through 3/4 of the Art of French Cooking. I am horribly outgoing and not shy about much. I disclose just enough to make others comfortable with disclosing even more. I can take a licking and keep on ticking. I have mountain biked and crashed and gotten back up and kept on going. I fight with my friends for reasons I can’t fathom and I can hold a grudge forever. Or forgive and forget tomorrow. Or this afternoon. I never forget, and I never remember.
I want to win. I want to win. I want to win.
I have a great slew of criminal defense lawyer friends. A few are kinder and gentler than I, but really, not many. Most are vicious fighters and great drinkers. Perhaps if we were fighting for a cause less noble than justice we wouldn’t be as adamant about it. But, we won’t ever know. Thank goodness justice has given us cover for those of us crazy enough to pursue it.
Mirriam: Good comeback. We have missed you.
Ego, underdog, competitiveness, adrenaline, fighting the system, yes, all of those things. And more.
I have found that no matter how I feel about a case when first learning about it, by the time it goes to trial I am not only convinced I am going to win, I am convinced deep down that I should win.
Great thoughts.
Don't forget the addictive nature of criminal representation. The rush we get in making arguments, selecting a jury, and telling our client's story. That fix we get from walking out of the courtroom knowing that we did everything we could for the human who put his life in our hands.
Deep down, we're all just junkies.
What?
Mirriam, I've always suspected that part of why you liked criminal defense was that you get to be a badass. Three witnesses say your client beat a nun to death, and when the cops caught him he had ten kilos of cocaine, a fully automatic Uzi, and an airtight container filled with anthrax spores, and you're thinking "Bring it on…"
Or have I read you all wrong?
Brian – I know, it's not written in Slovakian so you can't comprehend it. Maybe you can use a google translator. And Windy, I have no idea what on earth you are talking about.
Of course we should win. Every time. Hands down. And yes, we are junkies. But 'just'? I dunno about that.
Since you didn't like the light tone that the word "just" injected into the response. I shall adhere to the elements of style standards of Strunk, White, and Mirriam.
It is therefore amended to read:
"Deep down, we are all junkies."
I love this talk! But you know what I was reminded of as soon as I got done reading?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1sOeY6ZVG2U
Martin Luther King, Jr. has that wonderful quote, "Let us realize the arc of the moral universe is long but it bends toward justice." But would it without the type criminal defense lawyers Mirriam, Jamison and others here are describing?
As my mother would often say, "Coincidence? I think not."
Because it is fun to piss into the wind and then try to dodge the rain.
Some people just like getting other people off, and their opportunities to do so outside criminal defense are quite limited.
Brian's comment wins. I think we're junkies, masochists, in love with ourselves, etc. At the end of the day, if we do good work, that's what matters, isn't it?
Objection, vague as to Brian.
Sustained.
You can always count on Gurwitz for the witty remark and chuckle.
Because if not this, what?
And, ultimately, isn't it really all of the above?