Thursday, January 22, 2004
Cross-X in Slobo's House
I attended a lecture last night on cross-examination, given by a nattily dressed U.K. lawyer of some stature (apparently). Cross-examination is a mystery to continental lawyers because, in inquisitorial systems, the judge asks all the questions. Unfortunately, it is somewhat of a mystery to most common-law prosecutors as well because we don't get as much opportunity to practice it as our defense counterparts. The lecture was entertaining and helpful, if essentially repetitive of other lectures I've attended on the subject in law school and at the KCPAO. I don't think I can study the practice any further. It's all practice now.
The lecture contained a few short, classic (British) crosses, in which the prosecutor nails the defendant in some fantastic way. Most crosses aren't so immediately effective, and I think much of the anxiety we have about them is we feel this need to score some dramatic points. We want to break down the defendant into confessing, like in "Perry Mason", or force him into some long, contemplative pause at one of our devastating questions, like Jack McCoy. This rarely happens; the point of the cross is to grind out facts you can weave together in an effective closing argument. Nonetheless, we feel as though we have failed if we don't score those points, and we take unnecessary risks in pursuit of them. Our expectations are too high.
These lectures are given each Wednesday and are intended (I think) for the junior lawyers in the tribunal. They are held in Courtroom I. Last Wednesday, I sat in a judge's chair (the lecturer always sits "in the dock"). This time, I sat in the prosecution section. It takes me a half-hour each time just to get over the sensation of walking into that place, where Milosevic is presently on trial.
The lecture contained a few short, classic (British) crosses, in which the prosecutor nails the defendant in some fantastic way. Most crosses aren't so immediately effective, and I think much of the anxiety we have about them is we feel this need to score some dramatic points. We want to break down the defendant into confessing, like in "Perry Mason", or force him into some long, contemplative pause at one of our devastating questions, like Jack McCoy. This rarely happens; the point of the cross is to grind out facts you can weave together in an effective closing argument. Nonetheless, we feel as though we have failed if we don't score those points, and we take unnecessary risks in pursuit of them. Our expectations are too high.
These lectures are given each Wednesday and are intended (I think) for the junior lawyers in the tribunal. They are held in Courtroom I. Last Wednesday, I sat in a judge's chair (the lecturer always sits "in the dock"). This time, I sat in the prosecution section. It takes me a half-hour each time just to get over the sensation of walking into that place, where Milosevic is presently on trial.
