Back when I was first appointed to the bench, I had a senior judge confide in me the belief that "half this job is showing up." There was a spirit of absence in the 1990s that infected parts of the OJCC. We had judges then, and unfortunately, since, that did not see this as a full-time vocation. They were too often absent from the responsibility, late to work and scheduled proceedings, and generally not known for their timely and persistent attendance. It sometimes took years (literally) to get a trial order. It was an embarrassment and a tragedy.
That is not to say one cannot have a day off, or leverage the modern technology to telecommute. We have had some necessity of that in recent years. Lawyers, doctors, adjusters, and yes judges have striven to keep the system running in the face of the great panic. But long before that, we had some challenges. "Just show up, Dave." It was great advice. And, just like we are all permitted a "day off," let's give ourselves a break and admit we can also have an "off day."
A corollary of showing up has resonated since high school: "Follow instructions." The teacher would make an assignment and we would perform the task. If that was to write a paper, we did so. If there was to be a test, we showed up. Late work was not accepted in those days. Absent a note from a doctor, a make-up effort was not an alternative in those days. Flunking still existed, and the days of "social advancement" and widespread grading malpractice had not arrived. There were stricter standards and less flexibility than we see today. I have been a college instructor for over 20 years. And unfortunately, I see a lot more expectations of accommodation today.
At the end of the day, you have to get the job done. Since college, I have kept an ancient piece of papyrus (we used to write on it back in the day) that reminds me of a Henry David Thoreau quote:
“It is not enough to be industrious; so are the ants. What are you industrious about?”
Right behind it in my folder of thoughts is a quote by William McFee:
“The world is not interested in the storms you encountered, but did you bring in the ship?”
Get the job done. Forego the excuses and the self-pity. These thoughts of performance and function came to me recently when I read of a tragedy occurring up the country. It has nothing to do with workers' compensation, but this blog is about the law and judges, and this story struck a cord. The St. Louis Post Dispatch reported recently that a judge "will appoint a special prosecutor to build a contempt case against" the elected prosecutor and "one of her assistants." The prosecutor?
The prosecutor's office is being referred to in the press as a "rudderless ship of chaos.” The prosecutor is accused of "complete indifference and a conscious disregard for the judicial process." Although recently summoned to a show cause hearing, the prosecutor did not appear to answer regarding the failure of that office to perform effectively. Instead, another employee of the office and the prosecutor's attorney appeared. The judge, it is fair to say, was less than impressed. Is there accountability in the legal system?
There are broader concerns apparently. The Missouri Attorney General has "filed a lawsuit seeking (the prosecutor's) removal." The poor attendance by attorneys in the office has allegedly led to the continuance of important trials. There have been excuses tendered that involve schedule conflicts, poor communication, and an attitude of complacency (at best). One attorney glibly excused a tardy appearance with "Many people regularly show up late," and "It’s really not unusual.” We might all say that about anything. "many people fail, it is really not unusual." What an indictment that seems - of the lawyer, the prosecutor's office, and the spirit of abject failure.
Unfortunately, the latest instance regarding this prosecutor's contempt is allegedly not the first. A judge had begun contempt proceedings only a week prior regarding the prosecutor's office's failure to present as noticed "for the first day of a murder trial." The workload, staffing, and process are perceived by that official as daunting. In any process, circumstances may get the best of us. But the judge concluded, “It does not appear (the prosecutor) has made any reasonable efforts to prevent the resulting chaos.” Is that too much to ask, a "reasonable effort?"
"It is not enough to be industrious," "Did you bring in the ship?"
Judges filing contempt against the prosecutors? Lawyers not showing up for trials? Lawyers not communicating their challenges and scheduling conflicts? In this nation, there was once respect for the law, and perhaps even reverence. In this world of ours, there are responsibilities and challenges. We will each make mistakes and have failures. What are the real lessons from the St. Louis story? Fortunately, they are simple:
- Each day you will have too much to do and too little time.
- Your failures to be omnipresent and perfect (we are human) will affect more than you.
- Don't try for "perfect," it is illusory and self-defeating.
- At a minimum, communicate with those affected people, and respect their time. Appreciate their disappointment and dismay.
- Find a way to deliver on your promises. If you cannot, find help.
- If you cannot find help, cannot deliver, or are otherwise not up to the job, then step aside and allow someone else to try (before the Attorney General sues to remove you).
- In the sacred trust that is the legal system, the duty is profound, the stakes are immeasurable, and the public deserves the best (effort).
It has taken a great deal of effort for the OJCC to evolve. Our success has been the product of a great many people who have struggled with incredible workloads, deadlines, and challenges. They, we, have been at times imperfect, slow, and unresponsive. But, we have also been unforgivingly focused on reflection, innovation, and individual and collective self-improvement. Knowing we cannot achieve perfection, we have made a goal of doing better each day. It has worked. The twenty-first century OJCC is amazing in its function, efficiency, and esprit de corps.
Too often, modern lawyers lament our present shortcomings and failures because they are blessed not to remember the 1990s. Know ye all by the presents, that much progress has been made. It will continue. We will innovate, improve, and produce. We will not be perfect. I encourage you to tell us when we fail so that we can preclude ever falling into the disarray and embarrassment described in St. Louis. I encourage your suggestions, comments, and criticisms.
"It is not enough to be industrious," "Did you bring in the ship?" How can we do better next time?
