Procrastinating on something futile
I am in the middle of working on a pleading that I am very certain will lose.
This happens all the time in our field of work. I’ve gotten used to it. But it doesn’t mean that I’ve ever been thrilled to work on it, or that I won’t ever try to procrastinate it, until it’s too near my (internal) deadline and I have to throw whatever sticks, even if I don’t believe in it, just to get by.
This particular brief is not at all a unique, very interesting discussion, where I have no judicial precedents and no basis, but has enough wiggle room (either in the law itself, in the language of the past pleadings by either parties, or in the past decisions) to be “creative.” Those get me going. I love interesting cases like that.
Nope, this is a straightforward, straight-up doomed case, which, despite our repeated warnings to client that chances of success here is very low, they still decided to proceed with. We already lost in two levels, but client still wants to appeal (and lose a third time, I'm sure of it). Whyyyy.
Aaah. Nothing throws me off my game more than an obvious defeat I can spot from kilometers away. It’s not like I don’t understand that losing is a part of lawyering. Of course, it is. And I was just talking about this in my previous post (about sports) – losing is fun; it’s a very human experience. Stories about winning resonate more because of all the losing that has to happen beforehand.
But I am not talking about sports here. And even if I were, this is the equivalent of going to a tennis match without shoes, and yet still insisting that I can properly play and even win. Or like jumping into a pool with no goggles and wearing jeans. Sure, finishing the race (and even winning) isn’t impossible. But it’s just not a very smart decision to proceed anyway.
Unlike sports arcs, there’s no thrill of the underdog here. No suspense. Just a long, slow walk to the inevitable. And yet, I’ll write it. I’ll write it as if there’s hope, as if there’s actually a way the appellant quasi-judicial body will believe the things I’d have to say. Because that’s what we do: we raise the best argument, even when the best argument is barely an argument at all.
On days like this, I wonder how many other lawyers out there are also typing away on pleadings they know won’t land. Plenty, I’m sure. I hope we’re all at least doing it with good coffee; and I hope we all finish by EOD. The sooner this suffering ends, the better.