I was engaged in an interesting conversation with a student in a class meeting last semester regarding our court systems. I experienced some degree of resistance regarding the roles and course of trial courts versus appellate courts. I have often times explained distinctions that are important in court systems.
Primary amongst these is the trial courts may find room to be court of “justice.” As an aside, that is not true for administrative judges, whose role is to follow the law. Statutory judges like me are not courts at all. Our job is to follow the statute, determine the facts, and leave equity to the efforts of others. Too many a statutory judge has forgotten or forsaken that mandate.
Appellate courts are more readily described as courts of “error.” Appellate courts are not prone to fact-finding, but to legal analyzing and explaining. The Florida Supreme Court has "held that it will not substitute its judgment for that of the trial court on questions of fact, and likewise on the credibility of witnesses." Windom v. State, 886 So. 2d 915, 927 (Fla. 2004).
That is not to say each appellate court remains true to its role. At times, when all the testimony on an issue has been in writing (documents and depositions), we have seen appellate courts conclude they are as well-positioned as the trial judge to make credibility decisions and re-weigh evidence. That is a slippery slope in the best of circumstances.
These points all came up in this classroom discussion, which became lively at times. I am always grateful for such discussions as they evidence thought, passion, and enthusiasm that too many students today lack. It is rewarding to see them take a stand and make a point.
A critical underlying theme of any court discussion might be that no one, judge or otherwise, is perfect. As humans are imperfect, so, inevitably, are their creations and institutions; so too are their hypotheses, arguments, and conclusions. But, this conversation raised some points worthy of reinforcement.
Certainly, in this trial or appellate court comparison, there is the distinction of timing. Trial judges of many descriptions are faced with various deadlines, time parameters, congested calendars, and other constraints. Appellate courts are less so, and so some perceive them to therefore be more amenable to reflection and extended consideration. There is some merit in that.
On the spur of the moment in that class, trying to explain the concept of collegiality, I stumbled either brilliantly or ignorantly onto an analogy that I now propose for feedback and comment.
Many Hollywood stunts over the years have involve pitching a motor vehicle from four wheels onto two. Perhaps the most memorable of these was James Bond, in a red Mustang, in Diamonds are Forever (Eon 1971)(Sean Connery, Jimmy Dean, and Jill St. John in Vegas and beyond). So, we know a vehicle might use less than the designed and intended wheels. But, normally will be used as designed.
I analogized other vehicle‘s for my student. I suggested that a trial judge in America is singular, much like a unicycle. The trial judge has little in terms of visible outside support. The trick to riding this vehicle is to maintain balance and momentum simultaneously. As anyone who has ever observed a unicyclist might note that sometimes means paddling backwards, and then returning to pedaling forwards. Sometimes it involves some arm waving and gracelessness. It may mean deviations in course, and various adjustments to regain forward momentum.
The trial process is indeed one of balance and finesse. And, at times, it can be appropriate to back pedal (reconsider or rehear) some point(s) as evidence is developed and strategies solidify or shift. Some may as readily see such unicycle comparison in the role of litigator as trial judge?
I suggest that an appellate court is perhaps more like a tricycle. Appellate judges in many jurisdictions, examine, research, and opine in groups (“panels“) of three judges. While one might never contrive to pull a tricycle up on two wheels, a la James Bond, the tricycle is inherently more stable than the unicycle.
Someone sitting on a tricycle may come to a complete standstill, and yet maintain balance and posture. The tricycle might readily come to a complete stop and either appreciate the view or even smell the roses. There is more propensity or possibility for pause, contemplation, and reflection.
The appellate court is most often considering issues collegially, that is, essentially, by committee. Decisions will require mutuality in either agreement or consensus. All three wheels needn't agree, but any appellate decision will involve some confluence or agreement of at least two (a la James Bond). In this, it is possible that disagreement, debate, and compromise might play roles.
Each of the appellate judges is as human and thus imperfect as the next judge. But, in most contexts, the cooperation required in a multi-judge process will perhaps blunt or smooth such individual frailties and imperfections? That is, each is as imperfect, but through collaboration and collegial interaction might somewhat make up for each other's human shortcomings to some extent?
The unicycle/tricycle analogy is undoubtedly an imperfect comparison. However, it seems to provide an illustrative touchstone that may help some students or lawyers understand and remember the potential benefit of striving in a collegial environment.
