Well, we’ve all seen it. The grumpy Judge in a full‑bottomed wig. The smug witness calmly batting away the cross‑examination of the clever but seemingly outgunned barrister until – surprise! – the barrister approaches the witness box. “Can you confirm for the jury that this is your signature on the bottom of this document?” A moment passes. The barrister raises his voice. “Yes or no?” The witness looks to the Judge for help. The Judge peers down implacably through half‑rim glasses. The witness stammers “I…I…Er…”
“Objection my lord!”
“Overruled!”
“YES OR NO?”
“Alright! Yes! I signed it and I’d do it again!”
The public gallery erupts with outrage. The Judge bangs his gavel. “Case dismissed!” Constables come to arrest the witness.
It’s scenes like this that make Court Skills Training so necessary, because almost every detail in these dramatic portrayals is gloriously, hopelessly wrong.
I confess that after a career at the bar, scenes like this are quite a difficult watch for me, as they say. I mean, it’s all wrong. Hideously, stupidly wrong. Judges never wear full‑bottomed wigs – even in the criminal courts. Barristers don’t wander up to the witness box (fyi – it’s not a witness stand). Nobody does the “Objection!” “Overruled!” routine and don’t get me started on Judges banging a gavel – they have never, ever been used in any court in the UK.
Literature is just as bad. There’s a book by a very famous author about family law which has a High Court Judge referring to a witness stand (as if) and a “prohibitive steps order” for pity’s sake. I gave up after 30 pages and have avoided the film, much as I admire Emma Thompson.
My irritation with these things has led to some disharmony at home. My wife has, effectively, banned me from watching legal dramas with her. I think she finally tipped over the edge at my reaction to a scene in Broadchurch where barristers attend the exhumation of the victim’s body. My harrumphing was enough to provoke the domestic red card.
Her view is that it’s just entertainment after all and that no‑one is ever going to confuse what they see on the screen with real life. And yet…
Court Skills in the Training Room; Myths and Fears
I’ve been conducting court skills courses for Talking Life for over 15 years now and have met hundreds of delegates on the way. One of my stock questions early on is to ask when you might see a Judge using a gavel.
“To keep order”, “When handing down a decision”, “At the end of the session” are the usual answers. Out of the hundreds of delegates, perhaps five have ever said “They don’t exist” – and that worries me. Most people seem to get their understanding of the court process almost entirely from fictional sources. The ease with which the mythical Judge’s gavel has implanted itself in our collective consciousness suggests that many other false ideas are lying there as well.
Prime amongst these is to be drawn from fictional representations of cross‑examination. In films, no witness gets out unscathed. They are reduced to tears, talked over, shouted at, insulted, humiliated. They are never allowed to provide complex or nuanced answers as barristers interrupt constantly and demand “yes or no?”. Careers are ruined, lives destroyed.
I think that this, to an extent, explains the fear that many professionals have at the prospect of giving evidence in court. Rationalise cliché‑driven films as much as you like but deep down there’s something digging away – “I know it’s just a story, but…”
I would imagine that, for many people, the example of cross‑examination that first comes to mind is that in the film A Few Good Men (mild spoilers ahead) where Tom Cruise’s idealistic naval officer lawyer takes on grizzled Colonel Jack Nicholson in relation to the death of a young recruit. It culminates in a shouting match between the two before the Nicholson character finally breaks – “You can’t handle the truth!” – before angrily confessing everything and perhaps inadvertently suggesting that psychological resilience in the US military is overstated.
Of course it’s unrealistic. It’s the antithesis of a good cross‑examination which should be focussed, measured and controlled – and usually is. As a lawyer, if you have a great question to ask of a witness, why do you need to shout it? The lawyer shouldn’t be the focus of the court’s attention; it should be the witness struggling to provide a cogent answer.
Nevertheless these images have been deeply embedded, and my role as a trainer is to try to unpick the myth from the reality. It can be difficult at times. I have heard many “friend of a friend” stories from delegates of vicious cross‑examination and witnesses being “ripped apart”. These stories, however, seem to evaporate upon the lightest enquiry and usually turn out to be grossly over‑dramatised versions of standard questioning. As an aside, I’m beginning to think that some people would like it all to be true. The drama! The terror! I’ll give it further thought.
Many of the anxieties professionals bring into court come straight from these fictional depictions, which is why effective Court Skills Training has to start by dismantling the myths before we can build real confidence.
To be clear, there are many things to worry about in a court appearance and that’s ultimately what I try to address when all the nonsense is stripped away. The reality is that the best ways to deal with a day in the witness box are all rather undramatic. They concern day‑to‑day good practice, an ability to produce fair, analytical assessments and cogent, readable reports. On the day itself it’s all about professionalism and focus – staying calm, considered and remembering that good witnesses are there to assist the court to make the best decision. The atmosphere in court will be quiet and forensic – “serious people talking about serious things, seriously” as a Judge once described it to me.
Court Skills Training with Talking Life
So, my advice to those that attend my course is to forget about the films. With the right preparation and a clear understanding of how real courts operate, Court Skills Training can show you that you absolutely can handle the truth – you just need to know what it is.
Oh, and if you want to watch courtroom dramas (and just to prove I’m not a joyless curmudgeon) do try Anatomy of a Murder and the eternally charming Rumpole of the Bailey.
