Ambrose Bierce, the Law, and Lawyers

I can't help but enjoy reading most anything by Ambrose Bierce.  "Bitter" Bierce, as he was justly called, strenuously criticized and lampooned everything, so far as I can tell, and this is an endearing trait as far as I'm concerned.  In The Shadow on the Dial and Other Essays he targets the legal profession, among other things.

He writes what one would expect him to write, generally speaking.  To a certain extent, what he writes is unsurprising; but, we are a hundred or so years down the road from when he wrote, so perhaps his excoriation of the profession was original in its time.

He focuses for the most part on particular areas of the practice of law which presumably most irked him--criminal, domestic (divorce) and estates, and I haven't had much exposure to any of those areas, though I've had enough involvement in wills, will contests and estates to know I'd rather not be involved in them any further if it all possible.  I suspect this is the case because these areas are what would primarily attract the attention of a newspaper man back then (and perhaps now), or perhaps it is more correct to say are what a newspaper man would have been compelled to cover.

His suggestion that criminal defense attorneys be subject to cross-examination regarding their vested interest in their clients' success regardless of guilt or innocence is amusing, though I suspect no juror, then or now, would find this surprising (I personally find it surprising that such a renowned cynic as Bierce apparently found this worth noting).  More interesting to me, though, is the fact that he seems to assume that criminal defendants are virtually always--if not always--guilty of the crimes of which they are accused.

One might maintain that such an attitude should be expected from a cynic.  That may be so, but one would also expect a cynic would have a healthy scepticism regarding the ability of the state to locate and honestly prosecute someone actually guilty for a crime.  I find Bierce's furious denunciation of the fact that defendants are protected against self-incrimination to be somewhat baffling, as a result.  If all men are criminals, then it would seem prosecutors would have criminal inclinations as well as defendants--and of course their lawyers.  Prosecutors, though, don't seem to be subject to his wrath.

The law of divorce seems to have been so strange at the time he wrote I have trouble understanding it.  However, he makes an interesting argument against the rights of testators to determine who receives their estate and how they receive it, which is to say that for the most part he vilifies these rights and in some cases those who exercise them.

It is understandable that parents would want their children to receive what assets they have at the time of their deaths.  I suppose that just as a person may make whatever gifts they decide to make while alive, they may decide how their assets are to be disposed of after they can no longer gift.  But there is something disturbing and unseemly, and perhaps even macabre, about the dead excluding specific persons from having the use of assets after they have become what Bierce might call worms-meat because of some real or perceived slight in life or because they were disappointed in them while living for what may not have been good reason.  Placing conditions on access to assets after death--the dead can reach out from the grave to control the assets they once owned--can be disturbing for the same reason.  Nevertheless, the law holds wills and trusts to be controlling.

Nothing can be quite as disgusting, or depressing, as the spectacle of children fighting tooth and nail (a wonderfully evocative phrase) over the leavings of their parents.  Perhaps it would be better for the law to simply provide that assets be disbursed on death in a particular manner, regardless of the wishes of the deceased. 

But such a law, and the repeal of laws protecting defendants, would have deprived "Bitter" Bierce of a good deal of what he found despicable in the human race, and so would in some respects have deprived us of the pleasure of reading him as he ranted against our many failings.

Crime and Astonishment

The latest great legal circus has ended, and has left many of us amazed, or so it seems.  "Seems" because appearance is of fundamental importance here, and because what was shock was almost immediately transformed into something else, generally blame. 

Those who felt a conviction was assured blame the prosecutors, or the jurors.  I haven't heard the judge condemned yet, but that will likely happen.  All of the Anthonys, who certainly seem an oddly disturbing family, are blamed.  All perhaps deserve blame.

The trial of Casey Anthony was doomed to be a circus from the start, of course, due in large part to the attention drawn to the case by such as the remarkable Nancy Grace, who was busily milking it for all it was worth for years before it came to trial.  What reputation she has is built on the creation of controversy, but this in itself doesn't make her unusual.  Such aggrandizement and exploitation is what makes the world go 'round, particularly on TV, and particularly in what passes for journalism in these dark times. 

There is always some expert at hand to be pumped by some complaisant anchor or other media minion, of course.  There is nothing wrong with the fact they are consulted and displayed for us like trophies in and of itself.  We should of course treat them with a degree of scepticism, but there is nothing essentially wrong with them, or their role.  There is something very wrong, though, when they come to believe themselves to be something more than what they are, which is at most a part of the show, not the show itself, and a worst a kind of shill for someone, or something, else.

Grace appears to have managed to delude herself to the extent that there is something wrong.  Her opinion regarding what was to occur turned out to be wrong, of course, which is surprising only because she tried so hard to assure that the outcome would meet with her expectation.  Her reaction to the outcome, so shrill, so angrily maudlin, so rife with self-indulgent pathos, was down-right disturbing.  Her self-pitying reaction to criticism being made is merely irritating.

The lesson we should take from this is only indirectly connected to the antics of Grace and other pundits, however.  What this should teach us is that the experts, no matter how loudly and passionately they proclaim and pontificate, often don't know a damn thing about what has and will happen or what is happening.

I think this is particularly true where the law is concerned, and where a trial is at issue.  Any lawyer who has spent time in a courtroom knows that strange things can happen there, especially when a jury is involved.  Any lawyer should know the difference between morality and the law, and justice and the law, and when they profess otherwise it is likely they are being disingenuous or simply are not very good, or experienced, lawyers.

There is something especially reprehensible about a lawyer who is not involved in a case engaging in the kind of posturing engaged in by Grace and others in this instance.  Lawyers are advocates, of course, as part of their profession, but they are advocates for their clients.  That is the nature of the system.  The lawyer who goes out of his/her way to advocate for or against another lawyer's clients in the midst of a trial which could effect life or death, and does so on a global stage, is not a being professional and so is not professional.  Such a lawyer is being unprofessional, almost by definition.

We live in an age where we know something, and are told about it by various people, competent or incompetent, knowledgeable or ignorant, instantly.  We are able to react instantly to what we know about or are told, and being able to react we react.  Our technology and society encourages action without thought.  Worse yet, it encourages reaction without thought.  Instant analysis will generally be inadequate analysis, and instant analysis is what is being provided to us.  We should treat it accordingly.

Sweet Home Chicago

Whenever I visit The Great American City, my birthplace, I find myself happy, regardless of the weather, regardless of the reason for the visit.  This certainly isn't the first time I've been in Chicago for the Glorious Fourth of July, but it was the first time I decided to attend Taste of Chicago, and I confess I was less than impressed.  I've been to so many enjoyable restaurants there, and none of them were represented.  What was available for tasting was rather much what one may expect to see at any similar event.  Although the Billy Goat Tavern was represented, the charm of the Billy Goat lies in its location and ambiance on lower Michigan Avenue.  Seeing its pale, characterless ghost on Navy Pier was bad enough; seeing it masquerading as a food stand among others in Grant Park was nearly intolerable.  Add to this the oppressive humidity and the gargantuan crowd, and I almost despaired.

Almost, but not quite.  I was heartened by enjoying some London Pride at the Elephant & Castle on Wabash and Lake (I acquired a fondness for Fuller beers during my visit to Londinium).  I went to a wine bar I hadn't been to previously, and there downed several kick-ass reds, all the while snacking on Stilton cheese and olives.  The older I get, the more I enjoy good food and drink, it seems.

But above all, I was impressed and cheered, once again, by the proud brazenness of Chicago's downtown.  South Michigan Avenue and the park to its east with its statutes and monuments has a kind of Roman character, as does the Loop.  North Michigan and the River North area boasts spectacular architecture, and its skyline is continually changing.  Even the new Trump monstrosity seems somehow appropriate, as an expression of pride.  Chicago's downtown is not subtle.  It doesn't whisper words of power.  It roars them.  It isn't smug or satisfied.  The city is still young, and exuberant.

It provides a kind of tonic to this middle-aged man, and makes him wonder whether he can ever be a proper stoic.  But stoicism properly considered does not prohibit joy, it merely prepares us to live without it with tranquility if that is necessary.  As long as I can visit Chicago, that clearly is not necessary, yet.

Regarding War Powers

Some time ago, the Congress of this republic (if it still may be called that), in a fit of self-assertion, adopted the War Powers Resolution.  The ostensible purpose of this resolution is to limit the powers of the executive to wage war without consultation with the legislature and without its approval.  It  was recognized that there were circumstances when congressional approval could not be obtained with the speed necessary to take action to protect the nation's best interests, and thus the resolution gives the president a kind of carte blanche to take such action for a limited period of time.

It is a rather odd bit of legislative legerdemain.  Although Congress has the power to declare war, it has not done so for quite some time.  It has, nonetheless, sanctioned what can only be described as war with some frequency since it last did so.  As a result, it plainly does not believe war must be declared in order for war to be waged, or at least believes it cannot take such a position without appearing most inconsistent and hypocritical.  Nevertheless, it thinks it must approve war in some sense if not declare it in order for there to be war.  But, it also believes that there are circumstances where its approval cannot be sought and obtained in a timely fashion, and so by the resolution allows the President to wage war, subject to certain conditions.

By implication at least, the resolution is therefore an acknowledgement by the Congress that if it ever had the sole power to authorize the United States to wage war it has waived that power.  In that sense it is a rather sad admission by the legislature of its lack of authority, but having codified such an admission, it seems to make sense to enforce it unless it is to be repealed.

Being something of a fan of our form of government, I applaud the efforts being made to apply the War Powers Resolution.  I understand those efforts may be politically motivated (though I think some of its current proponents are sincere).  I wish it had been enforced more strictly in the past, and hope it will be in the future.

I'm amused by the efforts of the current administration to define "hostilities" in such a fashion as to render the resolution inapplicable.  I was rather pleased to learn that there are lawyers in the government who reject such a definition and believe the resolution applies, and who have said so. 

The administration appears to accept a definition of "hostilities" which requires that the U.S. be engaged in land battles in order to be engaged in hostilities.  This is an astonishingly antiquated view.  The mere use of those new-fangled flying machines to devastate property and kill human beings simply is not enough, says the second president of the twenty-first century, to require that I seek congressional approval.  This is such an absurd position that the administration deserves to be mocked by such as Stephen Colbert.

This is not merely a question of the limits of presidential power or the extent of legislative power, however.  At issue is when military force may be utilized.  This is obviously a moral issue, but it is also, increasingly, an economic issue.

The rather unpredictable Senator McCain is given to calling those who seek to limit our regrettable tendency to wage war "isolationists."  One would think someone with his history would know better.  I don't find "isolationism" to be all that frightening of a word, myself, though certain kinds of isolationism can be excessive.  But even those who feel the United States should be imposing its views through military force all over the world must recognize the fact that it can no longer do so (if it ever truly could).  It has no money.  It must borrow money in order to engage in such a quest.  Even the dimmest of our politicians understand that money is power; they must understand as well that the absence of money renders us powerless.

Those who believe that we humans are motivated above all by economic considerations may be right.  We have not been able to restrain ourselves from going to war merely because it is a waste of lives.  Perhaps we will be able to do so because it has become an egregious waste of money.

The Proper Study of Mankind

"Know thyself, presume not God to scan, The proper study of Mankind is Man."  So wrote Alexander Pope, whose fondness for couplets may lead some to think of him as a kind of proto-rapper, if it is possible to think of a rapper as being like Pope--someone with an actual talent for poetry who did not, so far as we know, recite his rhymes while hopping about and gesticulating for what would no doubt have been a very bewildered audience.

"Know thyself" we are told were words inscribed at the temple of Apollo at Delphi, along with "nothing in excess."  These words are sometimes ascribed to philosophers, such as Socrates, and if they were not those of Apollo they may as well be his, or Plato's or someone else.  Also ascribed to many philosophers is the tendency to presume to scan God, and other things which Pope likely thought were not proper studies of mankind, if Man is that study.

Sadly, perhaps for those who read this as well as for me, I feel called upon to complain once more of the fact that the philosophically inclined seem intent on ignoring the problems of humans in the world, i.e. the problems people encounter while living in the world, and instead address problems, if they can be called problems, which appear to have little to do with living in the world--and the less, the better.  I imagine perhaps without good cause that those who concern themselves with debating such issues as whether God exists, or others exist, or the universe exists, or whether there is such a thing as free will, the problem of induction....all the matters which have been the subject of debate for centuries among philosophers, would do humanity a service if they started considering with the same intensity matters such as the allocation of dwindling resources, the elimination of poverty, the manner in which to resolve disputes among nations, education, even how to behave in a manner which will not result in harm to others.  But I may well be considered odd, even annoying and obstructive, for doing so.  The "problems of philosophy" hold such a fascination that it may be that those who concern themselves with them cannot become unconcerned with them.

Now, it's quite possible that I'm simply wrong.  I may be unduly optimistic.  Perhaps philosophers don't have much to add to the resolution of the pressing problems of life.  It would seem to me, though, that compared to the politicians and pundits we entrust with their resolution, philosophers would do quite well.  Philosophers actually know how to think, and write; things it is not clear either politicians or pundits can do for an extended period.

I recently read Schopenhauer's The Wisdom of Life.  Although I'm not enthralled by his philosophy, I was pleased by the thought that he would write a book on practical wisdom.  It even has the word "Life" in its title.  I was disappointed, though, to find it to be a kind of collection of banalities.  He's careful to note that this little book is not representative of his philosophy, but then in describing how best to live he simply repeats some stoic essentials, makes the hardly surprising or interesting point that intellectual pleasures are best, and refers frequently to the ways in which "common people" are wrong in what they find good.  Schopenhauer clearly doesn't care much for the common people, and spends a good deal of space noting their various inadequacies.  He quotes liberally from the ancients and also Goethe, for good measure.  His condemnation of the practice of duelling is historically interesting, though.

It's also true that those philosophers who have concerned themselves with real life problems sometimes have been wildly absolute and persuasively and very influentially wrong in their conclusions.  Plato's view of the ideal state is frightening.  Ancient philosophers (as well as the Bible) were relied on by those who sought to justify slavery (Aristotle thought there were those who were born to rule, and those who were born to be ruled).  Heidegger thought Hitler and the Nazis would lead Germany and the world to some sort of inexplicable, mystic kind of paradise for some inexplicable, mystic reasons.

But the argument can be made that these philosophers came to often repulsive conclusions regarding the problems of life because they were led to do so inexorably by the conclusions they arrived at in the otherworldly, decidedly inhuman realm of traditional philosophy, so disassociated from the problems of living.  And, having thought that they had arrived at absolute truths in this detached realm, they felt that all they need do in addressing the problems of the real world is apply those truths, regardless of their effects.

So, perhaps if philosophers stopped dealing with the "problems of philosophy" they would not make such mistakes in dealing with the problems of humans.