July 2026 The Lighter Side of Law - Know Your Audience

by Justina Veritas

I don’t know about you, but I went to law school because there was at least a suggestion that a legal career would not involve much math, if any.

I’ve made it this far, blissfully unaware of calculus or any complicated equations containing what appear to be fraternity names. All the way through law school, almost twenty years as an attorney, approaching a decade on the bench, and at most, I use addition, subtraction, basic multiplication, and division (for example, I can calculate 33.3% with the best of ’em).

As far as the legal profession as a whole, I have known a rare few who are particularly good at math, and even fewer who enjoy it. Otherwise, I’d imagine we’d have gone into science, engineering, or accounting rather than make our livings talking, writing, and writing about talking.

So you can imagine my surprise when a recent legal program I attended regarding expert witnesses had a whole day, starting at 8:00 a.m., devoted to math and statistics. I was trying to take notes as I had done the day before, but I was at a loss on what to write. I think “incomprehensible math” was my summary of Lesson 1. Lesson 2 had the following notes: “More math!? Did I even take math? I seriously don’t remember any of this. I thought I took stats . . . but, like Gandalf, ‘I have no memory of this place.’”

There is this old meme with a lady looking pitifully confused and suspicious as numbers, shapes, and equations flood her sightline. I’m sure that was exactly how I looked the bulk of the morning. (The only reason I didn’t look that way in the afternoon as well was that they fed me a bunch of pasta then sent me back into the math room where I was fighting for my life not to fall into a carb-coma in a room full of my peers.) Anyway, this experience made me think about a fundamental lesson for any litigator: “Know Your Audience!”

Had they thought about the audience more (in particular, does this audience of judges actually need to be able to do the math themselves, or is that the job of the experts), I doubt thirty minutes (let alone three hours) would have been spent focused on actual math and statistical equations.

This experience reminded me of a longtime political figure I once heard give a rousing speech that expertly articulated their stance on key issues being faced by the tech industry. This passionate speech certainly would have resulted in some fundraising dollars had the speech, in fact, been given to a tech industry audience . . . rather than to my graduating law school class.

Picture a beautiful and historic venue, an air of excitement crackling through the packed room, and a captive audience of jubilant graduates and their doting families waiting for words of wisdom that they could clap and cheer along with! Yet, there was little clapping and no cheering to be had that day.

I’m not saying the speech wasn’t eloquent or factually rich; it was. Yet, how could one bomb so badly in front of an audience primed for joy and acceptance? Because they didn’t know their audience.

Whether you are trying to motivate a classroom, celebrate an accomplishment, or persuade the judge, the jury, or even opposing counsel—know to whom you are speaking and adjust your approach accordingly.

Ask yourself: What are my goals, what are their goals, and how can we find common ground? How can I get to the heart of the matter in the most understandable and efficient way? How can I achieve the purpose for which I am here today? Revisit these questions throughout the case, from the first client meeting to the last words of your closing argument. You will be happy you did, . . . and I am positive; there are no negatives to this approach.

(There you go, a single math pun, because adding sum more would just be irrational.)

Justina Veritas prefers to keep her trivial musings separate from her professional writings. You may communicate a message through the Editor-in-Chief at gialisa@gmail.com.