Chapter XII: The Movements in Court
Motions imply movement and action especially in a drama, but in a court motions are the reverse and occupy the place of dramatic pauses which delay the real movement of the play. They are of great interest to the lawyers, of some interest to the judge, because he has at once to pass upon them, of but little interest to the client, who does not understand them, and of no interest whatsoever to the jury, except when they result in the disposal of a trial.
Before the case begins the defendant makes a motion. When the plaintiff's lawyer has finished his opening, the other side makes a motion to dismiss the case. When he ends his evidence, the other lawyer moves to dismiss. When both sides are through, each moves. When the jury bring in the verdict either side may move, or both when neither is satisfied. All through the trial there are quantities of little motions. Motions to strike out, motions to instruct, motions to make the witness answer a question, motions to make the other lawyer behave. Except for pointing the finger or raising the voice in talking, they are not movements, they are only verbal, the action comes in the play of emotions of the parties in court. Motions are merely saying what either side wants; the formal asking for something.
The first important motion is on the pleadings themselves or when the plaintiff has opened. If the judge does not believe that the plaintiff has stated a case in law, he dismisses it on a motion of the defendant and the judgment is "without prejudice." The trouble is that a judgment of this kind does not finally dispose of the dispute. The plaintiff may bring the action over again.
He may appeal from the decision or judgment and the appellate court may rule that the trial judge was wrong and then after an interval the case goes to a new trial just the same. By this time the plaintiff or his lawyer may believe he has no case and desists, but the course depends upon whether the parties have not died, grown tired, gone into the hands of a receiver, or moved to Borneo. The jury know little as to this state of affairs and are not interested in the preliminary motions. The clients do not understand but think the lawyers are good talkers.
The lawyers are interested in the point of law and believe so strongly in their case that if an adverse ruling comes they are shocked and surprised. The judge knows that although he grant the motion to dismiss, he will probably allow an amendment. He is not greatly concerned unless he foresees a possibility of settling the dispute definitely and going on to the next case. He is anxious to try the present action and get down to the meat of the matter but really if they are going to insist on all technicalities he feels a little impatient.
He knows that even if the defendant is right and the pleadings are defective because the stenographer forgot to insert a date, it can still be put in. Recent legislation has found it necessary to say that the courts should allow amendments of pleadings where "Substantial Justice" will be accomplished thereby. It is a commentary on the system of the courts that the people through its legislatures should find it necessary to pass a law that judges should amend paper pleadings in furtherance of justice. If justice and right depend upon pieces of paper to such an extent, the dry formalism of the courts is a matter of regret.
The next important motion is when the plaintiff has put in his evidence and has rested. "The plaintiff rests," the lawyer says.
The judge and the jury say to themselves, "Well it is half over."
The defendant's lawyer rises and says, "I move to dismiss on the ground that the plaintiff has not made out a cause of action. He has not shown that the cow was owned by the defendant, or he has not shown that the driver of the plaintiff was free from contributory negligence, or he has not made out any kind of case at all."
This is an anxious moment for the young attorney. Did he forget something? What was there that he did not remember? Will the case be dismissed because he forgot to tie a shoe lace or put in a pin? If he is more experienced in court work he will not be so worried. The law is that the plaintiff must be given every chance at this stage of the proceeding. Only when both sides are through does the law begin to weigh the evidence. At the close of the plaintiff's case everything is in his favor. Any particle of testimony is sufficient on a particular point. The theory of the law is that both sides must be heard. If the motion to dismiss is made on the ground that something has been left out, the court will usually give an opportunity to prove to whom the red cow belonged. This motion like many other relics of a by-gone age, is a matter of custom and tradition. It is usually made on the theory that the judge may think there is no case and that the plaintiff can not make out a case. If he so decides, the case is finished, the jury is discharged, and the client has his feelings hurt by being thrown out of court.
From a decision of this kind there is also a right of appeal which may result in a reversal. Then the new jury is impanelled, the witnesses are recalled, and the proceedings are gone over once more. If the decision or judgment is affirmed, the case does not usually come up again; the higher court has said the plaintiff has no case on the evidence, and unless new evidence is produced he can never recover. In certain accident cases the appellate courts have stated they would not give their reasons for dismissing the complaint after the evidence is all in because, they say, if they did so they were afraid the plaintiff would supply the missing links by manufactured evidence on the next trial and not quite honestly. This again is a commentary on procedure.
Just at this point is where the law of the case comes in so insistently. Before the case comes to court the lawyer is supposed to know whether his client has a right of action. Every state of facts or a breach of those rights does not give rise to an action that can be maintained in a court of law. If you ask a man to dinner and he accepts, but does not come, you can not recover your damages for providing the dinner; or if you fall down your own well, you can not sue the man who built it. The lawyer is supposed to have carefully considered what elements of fact make an action. If the facts themselves do not give him a right of recovery his case is dismissed; or if he has a cause of action but has not proven the facts, it is also dismissed.
But as was said above, if the train of facts or those in the pleading is imperfect, the modern spirit is to allow them to be made perfect. The only theory of law that is contrary to this spirit is what is known as the theory that every man is entitled to his day in court and the day being had it is unfair to bring the other side in again on account of some defect or forgetfulness on the part of the other.
The reconciliation is that there should be no surprises on a trial, the modern tendency is to bring the case away from the idea of an ordeal by battle. The little advantages that are gained by sorties and surprises and which are usually taken advantage of by motion, are after all not of great moment.
An anomalous situation shows the absurdity of these motions, for when the plaintiff rests, unless the defendant makes a motion to dismiss the plaintiff's case, he is supposed to admit that the plaintiff has made a good _prima facie_ case, and if he does not move he is forever after, on appeal or otherwise, prevented from claiming that the plaintiff did not make out a good case. The result is that at the close of the plaintiff's case the motion is usually made as a matter of form to preserve the defendant's right.
Usually this motion is denied if there is a possibility of making a case, but suppose the judge either through ignorance or to be obliging should say, "Well, the plaintiff has made out a good case, but if you ask it, the blood be upon your own shoulders, and I will dismiss the case." The defendant does not want it dismissed but he has asked for it and he has got what he asked for. The result is an anomalous situation. The case will undoubtedly be reversed and he will be mulcted in costs for being compelled to ask, because of the formalism of the court procedure, for what he did not want.
At the end of the defendant's case, when both sides have rested, the defendant again moves to dismiss. Here again it is a formal motion, which he may not altogether mean, but which the lawyer often makes as a matter of form. If the judge really believes there is not enough evidence to let the case go to the jury, he ought to say so without the necessity of a motion. Suppose there is not, he dismisses the case "on the merits" and the trial is over. But suppose there is and the judge does not know his business and the fine point of law is not entirely clear to his Honor, and he makes a mistake and the case is dismissed. The result is that although he has granted the motion of the defendant to dismiss and given the defendant what he wanted, he has in reality penalized him, for the appellate court will reverse his decision and the defendant have to pay all costs and stand the expense of a new trial. The judge is in a quandary, which he may get out of in two ways. One is to let the weak case of the plaintiff go to the jury with the hope that they will see what a poor showing the plaintiff has made and find a verdict for the defendant, in which event he will be safe. But if the jury should make a mistake and find for the plaintiff, then the judge has the intention of setting that verdict aside, nullifying all the work of the jury, the witnesses, the clients, and the lawyers, and ordering a new trial. This is rather a weak-minded proceeding and shows the necessity of having a man in the referee's chair who knows how to decide.
The second alternative for the judge is to reserve decision on the motion and to let the jury go into the jury-room and worry about the verdict for an hour or two, while the judge has the hidden intention of perhaps deciding that they need not spend any time at all about the matter.
The principle on which the judge passes on this motion to dismiss is, that after all the case is in and all proof had, that on the proof and evidence there is not enough on the part of the plaintiff from which any reasonable man could ever find a verdict for him. The motion differs from the one at the close of the plaintiff's case in that the latter is based on there being no proof at all, while the one after the case is entirely in is based on the theory that there is no possibility of a verdict.
This sounds again like a metaphysical discussion, but is illustrative of the futility of formal motions, so that actually the decision depends upon the good plain common sense of the judge. The tendency is that if the case has gone to the length of a full trial and there is any question of fact involved, that the jury should determine the question of fact and exercise their functions. It must be a poor weak case of the plaintiff and evidently unsound, in which the judge or the appellate court interferes.
Throughout the trial the little motions that occur bear the same relation to the main issue as do the objections and exceptions.
"I tried to stop the car," says the motorman.
Up jumps the other lawyer. "I move to strike out as a conclusion."
The witnesses have testified to slightly different facts than what were stated in the pleadings. "I move to amend the pleadings to conform to the proof," says the lawyer.
"I move for an adjournment on the ground of surprise," says the other.
Of course the statement of the conductor is a conclusion of fact. But if the other side wants to find out how he tried to stop the car, let him ask what was done. "Did he turn on the brake handle? Did he switch on the emergency?" A man does not have to be an expert to say that the car was going fast; he may be examined as to what he considers to be fast. Nor does he have to be an expert to say that eggs are rotten, that butter is rancid, that there has been a war in Europe, that a man has a broken leg or looks sick or acts queerly, that the fish is stale or the cow was red.
The motion to strike out does not affect the jury, the testimony still remains on the jurors' minds. The verbal memory stays. Neither does the motion to amend the pleadings affect the jury. What have they got to do with it? If the papers are amended it is not important from their standpoint. Should the plaintiff have written a letter that he was going to sue for something, to the jury that seems better than any pleading.
These motions are insignificant and examples of a formalism which, however valuable it may be as defining the methods of the legal battle, are not consistent with the modern spirit of investigation into facts. It is rather significant that the laws creating Public Service Commissions and Legislative Investigation Committees in some States go to the length of stating that there shall not be any rules of evidence such as are employed in the courts of law.
The other motions, such as to direct a verdict, which is usually the same as a motion to dismiss, and the motions after a verdict has been rendered, are also formal statements of a request for the disposition of the case.
They may be all very good and useful in their way, but are merely the incidents and measures by which the truth of the matter is reached. The client looks puzzled at the argument and the decision, the jurors have a not very clear conception of what is going on, the lawyers have a meretricious feeling that perhaps they are cheapening themselves a little by making so many motions, yet they, nevertheless, have a legal right to do so and they must take advantage of every legal right for the protection of their clients.
After all the witnesses have been called, the plaintiff and the defendant have proved their sides, the plaintiff has contradicted the new evidence of the defendant, everybody has been examined, the interruptions of the objections and motions, exceptions have been had, the judge asks if both sides are through and the presentation of the case is ended.
The course of justice has been on a rough and rather narrow road. The popular revolt at the method of arriving at the truth is, in fact, at the narrowness of the way. The presentation of a case and the means of reaching the truth ought to be on a well-defined and orderly system. It would seem natural that the crooked and ill-paved streets of an old town should give place to the open, smooth, and broad avenues of the modern spirit.
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The Man in CourtChapter XII: The Movements in Court
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