self-representation | TALKING BACK to restraining orders

Perusing the trial transcript of a North Carolina man, former attorney Larry Smith, forcefully brought something to my attention last week, namely, that cross-examination can make or break a defense.

Larry extricated himself last summer from the latest of an endless series of fraudulent complaints and prosecutions brought against him by a vexatious litigant—this trial revolved around his criticizing her in his blog (besides allegedly “cyberstalking” his “victim” by tapping her phone and hacking her computer)—and how he exonerated himself was by probing her fictions while she was on the stand, and exposing them for what they were (this despite being tag-teamed by multiple county prosecutors and being hustled along by the judge).

Prior to Larry’s being given the chance to cross-examine the prosecuting witness, the smell of cooked goose pervaded the proceeding. What his example shows is that having the chance to question the witness against you may make the difference between victory and the coffin—or at least the curb.

The opportunity to question the plaintiff in a drive-thru restraining order trial in which it’s presumed s/he’s deathly afraid of you is all but stifled (and in some instances, a plaintiff doesn’t even have to show for court, because the accused is represented as an “imminent danger”). Putting questions to the plaintiff may be permitted by asking them of the judge who in turn asks them of the witness. Judicial patience being none, the impediment this protocol presents is obvious—as are the railroad tracks.

*Of his own restraining order case (the petition of his accuser’s that stuck—she filed two), former lawyer Larry Smith, who’s mentioned in the introductory paragraph, says: “I was not allowed to cross-examine [my accuser] in the RO hearing. I got kangarooed every step of the way. Every time I tried to ask a leading question, the judge would interrupt me and yell out, ‘Ask a question.’ It was a bit of a nightmare, a madhouse, and even when I managed to get in a jab, the witnesses all huddled with the judge and would refuse (with her blessing) to answer them. The rules of evidence, honesty, fairness, confrontation, the right to probe the witness on her contention of ‘substantial emotional distress,’ the presumptions of innocence, equal protections of the law, and burden of proof—all were tossed out the window like trash.”

Eight years ago, I was a curmudgeon working on a manuscript of humor for kids. I had appeared for jury duty before but was sent home, because the cases were dismissed or settled out of court. The only time I’d ever sat in on a trial—either out of curiosity or because a professor I had recommended I do it—the bailiff banished me, because I was wearing shorts. He invited me to return if I found some pants.

I couldn’t have told you anything about how the justice system works. I have, however, learned a good deal about it since. Mostly involuntarily.

A judge I appeared before last spring memorably remarked to me, “Pretend I don’t know anything.” I didn’t appreciate that he was in earnest. What I appreciate now is that everyone who appears before a judge should always assume the judge knows nothing.

I don’t mean this critically but practically. Judges may know a lot, but the way trials proceed is by each side’s informing the judge of what s/he should know. When lawyers cite legal cases, they’re not just reminding judges; they’re cluing them in to rulings they may well have no familiarity with whatever.

What this means is that it’s insufficient to tell the truth and expect a judge to perceive what action s/he should take. Judges are moved by argument, not facts alone. Put simply, judges should be told how they should rule, and this is what attorneys do. Attorneys don’t always do this because they believe they’re right or even because they anticipate the judge will agree with them. They hurl theories and arguments hoping one will hit home.

Law isn’t about what it should be about: right and wrong, truth and falsity. Law is about persuasion, even domination. I’ve been involved in two superior court actions now. Both times I was astonished by the dictatorial tone of the attorney I opposed. More astonishing to me was that the attorney was never rebuked for his demands but more often than not bowed to.

It’s unlikely that judges will be as obsequious toward non-attorneys, but the self-represented should nevertheless take care to spell out how they think the judge should act and not leave that to interpretation.

Litigants who aren’t attorneys must take care not to come on too strong, because judicial impulse may be to kneecap them for their impudence. It’s a difficult balancing act, but as anyone who’s been wronged by a miscarriage of justice will tell you, the reason his or her opponent “prevailed” had little or nothing to do with truth or reason.

What restraining order plaintiffs seek is understood going in. They don’t have to clarify their expectations. Defendants do: dismissal. And the grounds for dismissal must be argued, not simply articulated, especially if defendants are responding to false allegations, because judges won’t understand that the motives for a restraining order may be completely fraudulent or that the whole thing may be an elaborate and malicious hoax.

Self-represented litigants should be polite but direct and insistent. They shouldn’t, that is, be afraid of playing the legal game, which isn’t a duel of contrasting facts but a Sumo match that terminates with one side’s moving the judge to assume his or her perspective.

TALKING BACK to restraining orders

THEY’RE NOT JUST ABUSED BUT ABUSIVE

Tag self-representation

Cross-Examination: Yet Another Way the Deck Is Stacked against Restraining Order Defendants

The Court Isn’t against You, It Just Doesn’t Understand You: On Why Restraining Order Defenses often Fail