So, you’re looking at law school, and you’ve heard about moot court. Everyone says you should do it.
Should you?
Probably. But not because “everyone” does moot court; they don’t. Employers will often expect it if you didn’t do law review, so moot court is often just another ticket to punch for job interviews.
Moot court usually centers on writing a brief and presenting oral argument on legal questions presented by a short set of documents from a fabricated trial court-level dispute. Moot court competitions often attempt to simulate what happens at appellate courts. On appeal, the facts are mostly settled, and the lawyers and judges address what the law ought to be in that situation.
This is like what law professors try to do in class, but moot court can often be more interesting. The topics are often more timely. The cases may be based upon one or more real cases making their ways through the courts. Sometimes the cases address controversial social or political issues like whether you have a First Amendment right to videotape police officers arresting someone or whether the government can be forced to provide blood samples to exonerate someone convicted of murder.
More than just being interesting, moot court may be your first chance to do things lawyers do every day.
Its real value is in helping you build the skills and confidence a professional advocate needs.
Moot court often requires collaboration in writing briefs or presenting oral argument to a panel of judges.
The traditional law school model encourages competition over collaboration. In moot court—as in working at a law firm or negotiating with an adverse party—you won’t succeed without working with others.
Moot court also requires you to research an unfamiliar area of law and learn how to make a losing argument while keeping a straight face. Most moot court problems attempt to provide balance by posing one good and one bad issue for each side of a case. You’ll have to deal with the good and bad issues in
your brief and your oral arguments, so you’ll get used to making the best of what might turn out to be losing arguments. Lawyers do this all the time because they have a professional obligation to pursue a client’s wishes within the limits of professional responsibility. That can mean fighting losing battles, as long as the arguments used are not frivolous.
Moot court may also be the first time you face withering questions from a group of strangers. Sometimes the questions are good ones, focused on the topic and helpful in proceeding with your argument. Often the questions will make you sweat. Sometimes a moot court judge may not know much about the topic you have spent weeks preparing to argue.
That happens with real judges sometimes, too. A lawyer’s job is often to educate a court. Moot court helps develop that skill. And learning how to talk to a judge is a skill you probably want to develop before you find yourself in an emergency hearing the afternoon after you’re sworn in as a new lawyer. (It happens!) On that last-minute stuff. You won’t have much time to write the brief or prepare for oral argument. You may have only a week or two to learn a small trial record and several areas of law well enough to write a credible, properly-formatted and -cited brief, all while balancing your other classes. Lawyers do this every day, balancing other work while preparing for court. The reality of law practice often means you’ll work to the last minute. You might as well work on that skill now.
You’ll also get to learn about doing a “good enough” job. There is always another case, another rule, another argument to make. But you can’t really make them all. Sometimes you run out of time, or pages, or steam. Moot court is a good way to learn to let go once the job is done.
But you will also have to live with the consequences of doing a bad job. You may not know enough about the facts or the law and you’ll freeze at oral argument in front of judges, your classmates, and maybe even your parents. Or you may learn to pick your associates more carefully when a teammate leaves you high and dry.
These things happen to real lawyers. Moot court is a great way to get similar experiences without getting fired from a job. It may not be real, but it’s as real as it needs to be for a law student.
Acknowledgements
Disclaimer: Now that I’m a law school graduate, I must start with another disclaimer—even on the acknowledgment section. No one I’m about to thank below saw this book before it was published, other than my editor. Thus, no one below endorses this book in part or in whole by my acknowledgements. Do not hold any of the content of this book against any of them—my thoughts are my thoughts alone.
(With the exception of the moot court pieces.)
When I think back on my law school journey, there are so many people to thank, I’m not completely sure where to begin. But I’ll do my best to acknowledge the forces in my life that encouraged me to do what I needed to do when it came to law school—even though some of them tried to talk me out of it (with my best intentions in mind). They are:
All of my law professors. Really--all of them. To the best law professors I had the honor of having in class: I learned not only the legal stuff from you, but I also learned how to be a better teacher by watching you in action (although, I’m still working on that). I am grateful for the opportunity.
Law professors in particular I’d like to thank at my law alma mater include, in random order:
Professor Cynthia Baker, for her guidance during the 2010 Program on Law and State Government Fellowship, her Higher Education Law class, and her general guidance and support over the very long law school haul.
Professor George Wright, for his encouragement, support, and great stories that were always relevant to the times and to administrative law. (And Uncle George—really—this is my last plea for you to return to Facebook. How else will any of us in law know when celebrities are having birthdays and that Fashion Week is on its way? This. Is. Important!)
To Professor and Vice Dean Antony Page, for his excellent class on Mergers & Acquisitions and his willingness to speak with a lowly law student at an outside legal conference, about cutting-edge ideas (an unfortunate rarity in the profession of law for me thus far).
Professor Florence Roisman, who has a passion for teaching property and civil rights, and was slightly intimidating in class—very few people in this world intimidate me anymore. (Hint: if you take her
Property class, you’d better do your reading for it every night.) She was also the only professor during my law school career to take the time to congratulate me on an A in law school—in writing—old school, in a letter. Classy.
Professor Priscilla Keith, for reminding all of us that we’re just as good as those ivy-league law students, which I played in the back of my head on a constant reel when I went to advocate for pharmacy in
Washington D.C. the same semester I had her in class.
Professor Anthony Rose, for his award-winning (at least in my mind) class on internet law, which was probably the most useful and relevant class for me of my entire law school career, and for teaching me that “information likes to be free, and expensive.”
Professor Tom Wilson, for the China Law Summer Program and drilling “offer, acceptance,
consideration, legality, capacity and sometimes a writing” into my brain probably until the day I die.
Also—I really enjoyed classes by Professor McCabe, Professor Fredland, and Professor Gonzales in the healthcare space. Everything in health law from The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks to free condom smartphone applications, to debates on whether or not placebo might be an “ethical” treatment, I learned from these ladies by experiencing their classes.
I’d also like to thank Dean Jonna MacDougall, Dean Johnny Pryor, Dean of Admissions Patricia Kinney, Professor Schaibley, Professor Kenan Farrell and Ms. Elizabeth Allington for helping me with a few crazy ideas during my tenure at law school.
I am CERTAIN there are other faculty and staff I’ve forgotten, but I am grateful to all of them, and also to the faculty I never had the pleasure of fitting into my schedule.
Before I even matriculated into law school, there are many, many lawyer friends I need to thank—who either tried to talk me out of it, and better yet—supported me even after I ignored their suggestions and went anyway—thank you to: Jennifer Ruby, Gina Shockley, Chad Priest, Christopher Russell,
Jeremy Kridel, Ninja Dave, Joan Champagne, Leona Frank, Amy Wright, Greg Castanias, Tabitha Meier, and all the lawyers and legal/life science people in my previous book, The Life Science
Lawyer.
Professor Joe Fink III at the University of Kentucky was instrumental as a mentor to me during my law school career, and continues to guide me in my never-ending quest for career development—particularly in the narrow pharmacy law career space. I am grateful to him for always being willing to support my ideas.
Last but not least relative to law school, I cannot forget one of the greatest benefits of all during my law school career—the friends I made along the way as law school colleagues. You’ll be friends for life, and the best quote that comes to mind is Winston Churchill’s, “When you’re going through hell, keep going.” You all know who you are, and rather than endanger your own budding law careers by putting your names directly in this book, I’ll spare you from the future defenses and wish for you nothing but the best. Specifically, I have to thank the other parts of the Fab Four—including Batman. Also, a shout out to my fellow fellow, who is awesome.
My pre-law life friends, mentors and family I must also thank. For four years, I had to tell them “no” a lot. Thanks for putting up with me, especially when I couldn’t be with you in person and only in spirit, because I was sitting in class, and most of all, for cheering me to go to class and study, even though there were times I didn’t want to. Thanks to my parents, for helping me hobble through life during law school, full-time work, and ‘trepping/publishing on the side. Also, a huge thanks to my mom/editor for re-reading yet another non-fiction piece, rather than reading the fiction from the library she really preferred to read instead.
I also must thank my coworkers at Butler University College of Pharmacy and Health Sciences—and in particular, my boss, who always appreciates my crazy ideas, Dean Julie Koehler, and the dean of the college who also supported me, Dean Mary Andritz.
Thank you. I appreciate your support.