Tips for the new lawyers: Law school was a waste of your time.

Once we told the entire story, guess what happened?  NG. Not Guilty.  Give us back our bond money, because we’re going home and not coming back… except for an expungement.

I love this time of year.  Early November is “new lawyer” time.  The kids that graduated in the spring and took the bar over the summer get officially licensed to practice in early November.  So, they start popping up in court.  And, you know who can spot a new lawyer in a foreign courtroom from miles away?  Everybody.  That’s who.

New lawyer
Image from

Why?  Many of them look like a fish out of water.  After 3 years of law school they walk into the courtroom not sure where to stand, how to check in a case, or which of the other 30 people wearing suits are the prosecutors.  It’s not their fault.  I’m sure I looked that way, too. So would you.

I’m not picking on these poor plebes.  I’m picking on the schools that trained them.  You spend 3 years of learning theoretical, mostly useless legal principals for a variety of subjects you’ll never need to worry about again.  Then you walk into traffic court, and don’t know how to fill out an appearance (the very simple document announcing to the court that you are the attorney on a case) because none of your Harvard-educated instructors mentioned that as they were teaching you about strict per stirpes.

Anybody know if medical school works like that? Three years of book learnin’ and then you’re turned loose to press scalpel to flesh on your first victim?

Don’t get me wrong. I love the theoretical.  I wasted 4.5 years of college on a Philosophy degree.  I could sit around all day and read the law.  Hell, last night I tormented a poor girl with a Bill of Rights quiz at a football game.

Facts win most cases, though.  Not legal concepts.  Knowing the facts inside and out wins cases.  Busting your ass to find the facts that aren’t served to you on a silver platter wins more cases.  Even though they should, law schools don’t train you to be Magnum P.I.

I posted something a few weeks back about a jury trial I did in Rockford.  It was fairly big news there and made all the TV stations.  I was the “second chair” in that.  In plain terms, the “second chair” is the wing man.  It’s the most fun role to have: You have to do little of the pre-trial work and less of the in-trial work.  It’s all the fun, a fraction of the work, and typically very little of the blame if things go wrong.

The head honcho on that case was a good friend and incredible lawyer: Dan Hoffman.

I love working with Dan.  Way back when I was just a freshling lawyer, he was the first guy in court I saw not “acting like a lawyer.”  When he talked to the judge he didn’t have the same plastic facade that many other lawyers seem to put up.  I’m not good at being “not-me” so it was liberating to watch.

He’s also diligent about not letting the prosecutors control what the case is “about.”  He just keeps investigating the facts until there’s nothing left to do.  At trial, he doesn’t just respond to what the prosecutors put on, he presents an entire case of his own.

He can do that because he gets his hands dirty. Literally.  Like, if he has to meet a witness in her barn while she’s birthing goats, he’ll be there (related sidenote: goat afterbirth stuff sitting in a barn is not something you can really mentally prepare for if you haven’t seen it… it’s also an image that you’ll probably never get out of your mind).  Dan’s trials often have him calling twice (or more) as many witnesses as the prosecutors put on… because he went out and found them.  He works his tail off.  He is Magnum P.I.

And that brings us back to Rockford.

Leading up to this case, Dan would call me every couple of weeks. Each time we’d talk about new witnesses he’d uncovered or new documents he got from a subpoena.  Each step of the way the case was looking better for us.  Each step of the way I had to ask if he thought the State was really going to force this case to trial.  He asked them to drop it.  They wouldn’t.

Then came trial.  The State did what they always do:  they put on a few of the witnesses mentioned in the police reports (some of whom said things they weren’t prepared for).  They put on the video.  Then they put on a paid expert to attempt to explain to the judge why the video he was watching wasn’t really what it looked like.  Then they rested their case.

Of course, none of the reporters in court that day could stay past the lunch break. So they all made it sound like we were screwed.  Crazy things happen when you don’t watch all the testimony, I guess.

When it was our turn to put on witnesses we called all sort of folks.  People mentioned in the police reports.  An expert.  Most importantly, people who witnessed stuff that wasn’t in the police report.  People the prosecutors didn’t bother to call as witnesses.  People the prosecutors didn’t even bother to talk to.  People Dan found.

Once we told the entire story, guess what happened?  NG. Not Guilty.  Give us back our bond money, because we’re going home and not coming back… except for an expungement.

How do I know we’re not coming back?  Well, let’s just say I don’t think we’re welcome anymore.  On the way out of the courtroom, one of the news stations asked Dan about the case.  He said what is absolutely true in cases like this.  He said something very few lawyers would have the stones to say.  He put the blame for the entire case squarely on the shoulders of the head county prosecutor, and he wasn’t shy in telling the reporters that the State’s Attorney’s office didn’t exactly work hard to uncover the entire truth:

So, what’s that have to do with law school? It’s simple: we didn’t win this one because of any legal principal or abstract concept of law.  We didn’t win this because we were better at laying a “foundation” or any other technical trial skill.

We won the trial because Dan out-worked, out-hustled, and out-investigated the entire executive branch of Winnebago County government.  By himself.  The midwestern work-ethic isn’t something law school teaches. It is something law schools need to build on when it comes to what really matters, though.

There are a lot of fresh faces popping up in court this time of year.  They have brains crammed with abstract legal concepts that make for great debate over a latte at Starbucks, but won’t necessarily lead them to a barn with bloody goat bits.  They’ve learned to talk the “lawyer’s language” and “act like a lawyer.”  Law school has done us all a dis-service.

Watching Dan and a few other successful lawyers in court for years makes it clear that the best attribute a trial attorney can have is the will to prepare, investigate, and pursue every potential fact or witness in a case… and don’t stop right up until trial no matter where it takes you.  The best skill a criminal trial attorney can have is to be able to talk like a normal person to normal people- because that’s what your witnesses and jurors are going to be.

Law schools really don’t teach that stuff.


Let’s talk about talking to the police again.

Wait. Let’s not.

I’ve wasted thousands of words on that topic.  This guy nails it in four words. I don’t know him but, based on what I’ve seen, he looks pretty spectacular.


About that cook county prosecutor who was arrested at the lingerie shop

I’m sure you’ve heard about the Cook County prosecutor who was arrested in the last week.  In case you have not, her name is Sarah Naughton.  According to news reports, she was escorted out of a Lingerie Shop called “Taboo Tabou” for acting a little too rowdy with a male companion.  At some point, a melee ensued and she’s accused of biting a cigar shop owner in the ankle.  Much to her horror, the aftermath was captured on video:

Like I’ve said before, the day people get arrested is usually the worst day of their lives.  If Naughton didn’t believe it then, she surely believes it now.  You should too.

I’m not posting this to embarrass her or make fun of her, though.  It’s not even a post aimed at showing you what she should have done after getting arrested- I think I’ve done that enough. Sadly, this isn’t even going to be a post making fun of prosecutors.  It’s a post making fun of other criminal defense attorneys.  Or, as I like to call them, my friends.

I’ve always been a little bit amused at how quickly criminal defense attorneys in private practice brag about being former prosecutors.  Like it’s some sort of badge of honor.  Somehow, working at an office where you never have to talk to a person accused of a crime (and where many of your decisions are controlled by “policy” dictated from an elected bureaucrat) makes you awesome at relating to the common man, right?  Gives you a lot of experience at being able to explain complex legal concepts in normal, everyday English, right?  Apparently telling people you used to be a prosecutor works, though.  Just check Google.  Any lawyer who ever worked at any prosecutor’s office anywhere is bragging all over the internet about that stuff.

Hooray for them.  I’m super-impressed.  It’s so terribly difficult to find a lawyer who used to be a prosecutor.  We’re probably down to our last 20,000 of them in this state.  Retain one now.  They must be a dying breed, or something.

Maybe the problem isn’t them.  Maybe the problem is you.  You are the market.  Your dollars determine what sells.

Does this sell?  Are there really a lot of people on the internet thinking:

“Hey, I see you were stuck pushing paper in traffic court for 6 years, mind helping me with this murder case?”

The sad thing is that there must be. There have to be, right?  If there weren’t, the ex-prosecutors wouldn’t be bragging.  The former “Assistant State’s Attorneys” wouldn’t be listing this stuff in their web profiles 10, 20 or 30 years after they turned in the prosecutor’s badge.  Isn’t this simple market economics?  If it didn’t sell, lawyers would stop, right?

I’m not saying that cutting your teeth as a prosecutor is a bad way for a criminal defense attorney to start off- there are a ton of excellent criminal defense lawyers who started as prosecutors.  Some of the absolute best lawyers on the planet (and some of my best friends) started this way.   I’m not saying it’s a great way either, though- there are plenty of former prosecutors who can’t quite “connect” with our clientele.  It’s just a “way”.  No different than any other.

I don’t totally blame you, though. It does sound impressive.  “Former Felony prosecutor for 25 years with experience in murder and narcotics cases!” does have that infomercial-like appeal.  And, if infomercials didn’t work, well, then the Sham-Wow wouldn’t be awesome.

With so many lawyers beating the drums of their prosecutorial experience I was a little worried when I decided to finally have a web page.   I was never a prosecutor.  When I put this little “Kane County Lawyer” page together, I had a lot of excellent experience, but nothing that sounded awesome enough to have that “infomercial” effect.  So, I did what I do best… I passively cracked on my friends:

Many criminal defense attorneys started as prosecutors and later made the switch.  While they were busy putting people in jail, Haiduk was sharpening his skill for keeping them out.  Matthew has never prosecuted a person like you.  He has dedicated his career to helping people like you.  If you need an attorney, or just need advice, it is worth your time to contact Matthew J. Haiduk, Attorney at law.  He offers free consultations… so, what do you have to lose?

What does this have to do with Sarah Naughton and her Taboo Tabou folly?

All I know is that this lady has worked as a prosecutor long enough to have an idea of what she would want to do when she’s arrested. I have an idea.  And, if you’ve read though here enough, so have you.

Would you want to do what she’s doing on that video?  Do you think she helped her self after she was arrested?  What would she advise you, as a client, to do?  Follow her lead?

She very well may lose her job for this. I really hope she doesn’t, but she very well might. If she does, she’s going to end up in private practice.  Like lots of former prosecutors before her, she’s going to tell people she’s a former prosecutor. She’s going to tell people she has trial experience.  She’s going to end up on a law firm web page making all this experience sound very, very impressive.  People will be impressed.  People will order the Sham-Wow and then retain her.  Would you?

About those girls who stole the Girl Scout cookies…

Remember when I mocked those girls who stole the cookies?  Maybe you don’t. I mean, it was all the way back in last week.  Well, it turns out they’re not alone.  Apparently stealing cookies from Girl Scouts is something of an epidemic.  At least these guys weren’t as arrogant when they were arrested. We hope.

Anyhow,  I know after watching that video with the two girls last week you were completely convinced that the Great Cookie Caper was a one-time, completely out of character, horrible decision for those two.  The type they’d learn from, move on, and chuckle about when they’re older.  The kind of “dumb kid thing” that kids sometimes do.

I’m here to tell you that you’re correct. Maybe.  I mean, while it seems that Cookie Heist was the only time that daring duo liberated dessert from little kids, it’s not the last time one of them was in trouble.  Serious trouble.

But, you knew that was coming anyway, right?  Of course you did. Everybody who saw the video did.  Everybody who watched the first video is saying “I told you so!”  Including the judge.

If you look at Ms. Wood’s subsequent legal problems, it doesn’t look like she was cut much slack.  I wonder how she feels about how she acted in that video now.

Lesson learned?  Don’t talk about crimes you may or may not have participated in.  Not to the police. Not to your friends… definately not to the T.V. reporter.  Especially if your’e going to come of as arrogant and unremorseful.