✏️ Legal Pad
The Greatest BS Detector Ever Invented
The United States jury system is the single greatest lie detector ever created.
Not because jurors are lawyers or psychologists. Not because they’ve studied evidence rules or have received FBI interrogation training. But because they’re humans from all walks of life. And human beings have an extraordinary ability to sense when something doesn’t ring true.
You can win motions. You can hit all the necessary elements to prove your case. You can check every box procedurally. But if the finder of fact, whether it’s a jury or a judge, stops believing the person on the stand, the case is over. It doesn’t matter whether it’s criminal, civil, or family court. The moment credibility evaporates, so does momentum.
Believability is the single most valuable asset a client or witness can bring into a courtroom. Not perfection. Not eloquence. Not polish. Just authenticity. Juries forgive nervousness. They forgive imperfect memory. They do not forgive dishonesty. It is the cardinal sin of the courtroom.
I’ve seen technically strong cases collapse because someone tried to stretch the truth just a little too far. The smallest exaggeration has the ability to derail an otherwise bulletproof witness. I’ve seen weaker cases survive because the witness was steady, candid, and plain with the jury. The law may be complicated, but credibility isn’t.
You can recover from a bad ruling. You cannot recover from losing the room.
💡 Sidebar
False Spring in South Carolina
It’s that magical time of year in South Carolina known as “False Spring.” This week it’ll hit 78 degrees. Shorts will come out. Patios will fill. Someone (me) will confidently declare winter over.
And then, inevitably, it will snow next week.
We do this every year. We celebrate too early. We pack away the coats. We get comfortable. And then the bottom falls out.
Trial work has its own version of False Spring. You think you’re cruising. Cross is going well. The jury is nodding. Opposing counsel looks tired. And then one answer, one exhibit, one unexpected ruling, changes the temperature in the room back to winter.
The lesson is simple: never put the winter coat away too soon.
Whether it’s keeping a jacket in the back seat “just in case” or preparing a rehabilitation outline you hope you’ll never need, the disciplined move is the same. Stay ready. The weather changes fast. So can a trial.
⚖️ Closing Arguments
We’re moving soon. And short of terrorism or coconut shrimp, moving may be the thing I like the least.
Gone are the days of bribing a handful of buddies with pizza and beer to carry a couch out of your apartment. There’s nothing fun about boxes, tape, and discovering how much stuff you’ve accumulated since the last time you moved. But I’ve decided to treat this move the same way I treat trial prep.
First, inventory. What stays? What goes? What absolutely cannot be lost? It’s a grading system similar to the way I sift through evidence pre-trial.
Second, strategy. You can’t just start throwing things in boxes. There’s sequencing involved. Essentials first. Long-term storage second. Clothes and other daily items last. The same way you build a case- foundation first.
Third, controlled chaos. And beer. Send in the three-year-old and the dog (Author’s note: while this pertains specifically to moving, it would make for an interesting trial strategy and would certainly get the jury’s attention).
The difference is that in trial, if something isn’t labeled correctly, there can be severe consequences. In moving, the consequence is opening 14 boxes before you find the phone charger. But the mindset is the same. Preparation buys calm. Systems create order. And if you do the work ahead of time, the final execution looks far more effortless than it actually was.
And just like trial, the goal isn’t perfection. It’s progress- one deliberate step at a time. Until the three-year-old and the dog enter the arena.
Here’s to preparation, perspective, and knowing exactly which box the coffee maker is in.
Court is in recess- see you next Friday.
