Field Theory and Judicial Logic

ANYONE who has read the statement of facts in a large number of briefs of appellants and appellees is likely to conclude that any resemblances between opposing accounts of the same facts are purely fortuitous and unintentional. The impression that opposing lawyers seldom agree on the facts is strengthened if one listens to opposing counsel in almost any trial. Now, as a matter of simple logic, two inconsistent statements cannot both be true. At least one must be false. And it is always possible that both are false, as, for example, when the plaintiff's attorney says the defendant speeded into the zone of the accident at sixty miles an hour and the defendant's counsel insists his client was jogging along at twenty miles an hour, while, in fact, he was moving at forty miles an hour. Thus, a logician may conclude that either (1) at least half of our practicing lawyers utter falsehoods whenever they open their mouths or fountain pens, or (2) that a substantial majority of practicing lawyers utter falsehoods on a substantial number of such occasions. If we define a liar as a person who frequently utters such falsehoods,1 it would seem to follow logically that most lawyers are liars. How the edifice of justice can be supported by the efforts of liars at the bar and ex-liars on the bench is one of the paradoxes of legal logic which the man in the street has never solved. The bitter sketch of "Two Lawyers" by Daumier still expresses the accepted public view of the legal profession. So, too, does the oft-told story of Satan's refusal to mend the party wall between Heaven and Hell when it was his turn to do so, of St. Peter's fruitless protests and threats to bring suit, and of Satan's crushing comeback: "Where do you think you will find a lawyer?"