To Everything there is a Season

Obviously it has been a while since I have posted on this blog. Why is that? I suppose it is because I have accomplished much of what I wanted to with Law Career Blog as a solo blog. I felt I had important things to say on teaching and classroom etiquette; on law career decisions; on law firm practice; on mentoring, and more. And I have said many of them, so there you have it.

I am very pleased, though, that my posts continue to draw strong traffic month after month, year after year. What I have said here remains relevant, I think--but that does not mean I need to always rehash the same ground, all in the name of having new posts just for the sake of it.

So for now, my existing posts stand for what they are, and I am proud of them. Call me the Antiblogger, I suppose: I am blogging by not blogging.

In any event, the following is a list of posts that have generated the most interest from readers, some posts on subjects I think are particularly important, and some that are just fun. Enjoy!

Posts on Law School in General:

In a series of posts, I argued that if we want law schools to truly provide the academic and practical education that students (and employers) expect and demand, we should consider adding a fourth year to the law school curriculum. Not surprisingly, my proposal was universally condemned. Check out the comments.

See Is the Third Year of Law School a Waste of Time and Money? and Is Law School Itself a Waste of Time?

I think that too often, law students don't step back and think about law school and their future careers in a broader perspective. That's understandable given the workload in law school, but it's still unfortunate. My friend and colleague Gene Theroux visited Mississippi College School of Law once to speak to students about his storied career--he opened the first western law firm offices in China and the Soviet Union--and he had wonderful advice for them. Ostensibly the talk was about globalization, but the heart of his message was to follow your heart and practice law the right way and for the right reasons. Sometimes we need to put our cynicism aside and hear things like what he said that day.

See Theroux Part Deux

Posts on LL.M. Degrees:

This trilogy of posts is perhaps the most popular series of posts on this blog--which proves that good things really do come in threes. Lots of discussion in the comments. See The Pros and Cons of LL.M.s, LL.M. Redux and LL.M.s Part 3.

Posts on Law School Exams, Teaching, and Class Strategies

Bainbridge v. Bowman. I wrote a law review article entitled The Comparative and Absolute Advantages of Junior Law Faculty: Implications for Teaching and the Future of American Law Schools--a piece I am quite proud of. In it, I use traditional neoclassical trade theory to analyze the advantages of junior and senior law faculty and make some recommendations regarding law school teaching. Professor Stephen Bainbridge of UCLA saw it, and he absolutely hated it. This posts includes our dialogue.

How to Improve your Law School Exams Grades. This wasn't a terribly controversial post--or so I thought until I received scathing comments two years after I posted it. Some fun back and forth on that one. Maybe I should've retitled the post Bowman v. Someone Very Angry.

Law School Orientation Advice. Pretty self-explanatory. My own favorite piece of advice: Don't spill a plate of food on your law school dean at the welcome reception. I actually did that--but lucky for me, I still graduated.

Computer-Free Week and Computer-Free Week, Part 2. There is a good deal of concern in the legal academy about computer use in the classroom. Is it beneficial? Is it harmful or disruptive? So one time I asked students not to use computers for one week to see what would happen. The results were pretty interesting, and as a teacher I found the feedback via the comments very useful. Perhaps the most interesting result was that student comments revealed just how prevalent the consumer mentality is among students--namely, I paid my tuition, so I can do what I want in class.

The Dilbertic Method. I definitely like this post about parallels between Dilbert's boss and the Socratic method. If you want to see the Dilbert cartoon I am talking about, you have to click the link in the article and then enter in the cartoon's run date on the Dilbert site.

Posts on Law Firms:

Much of the attraction to, and frustration with, big law firms has to do with the money they pay their associates. So I wrote some pieces on that subject--something I have firsthand knowledge about.

See Of Law Firm Culture and Compensation Schemes, The Problem of Law Firm Salary Distributions, and Big Firm Economics 101.

In another post, I wrote about associate pay and stress levels. In light of the recent savage downturn in the employment market, this post is perhaps more relevant than ever. See Why Associates Have More Stress than Partners.

On Interview and Job Strategies and Techniques

Job Interview Do's and Don't's. The name of the post says it all.

What NOT to do as a Summer Associate. You'd be surprised what some people do. Don't be one of them.

Posts on Movies:

Finally, I have had some fun with movies on this blog, and for some reason they were always movies starring George Clooney. First, I blogged about Syriana--see Syriana Misrepresents International Lawyers.

Then I wrote a whole slew of posts on Michael Clayton--a movie that had a lot to say about what it is (and is not) like to be a lawyer. I was interviewed by the Chicago Tribune about the Michael Clayton series of posts. See the following (not too originally entitled) posts:

Clooney v. Clayton, which is my review of the movie

Clooney v. Clayton, Part 2, about hyperbole in legal dramas

Clooney v. Clayton, Part 3, on whether there is such a thing as a law firm "fixer"

Clooney v. Clayton, Part 4, on the perverse incentive/reward structure of law practice

Clooney v. Clayton, Part 5, on how law practice affects your family life

Clooney v. Clayton, Part 6, regarding legal ethics

Clooney v. Clayton--Again, regarding my Chicago Tribune Interview

* * * *

So for now, that is where things stand. I hope you enjoy reading these posts as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Greg

The Most Important Day of Class

Last week was my first week of classes for the 2008-2009 academic year, and I was all ready to write a post called "The Most Important Day of Class." The whole premise was that the first day of class is the most important day of class for the whole term. But I didn't write that post, because I decided I was wrong.

The first day of class is not the most important day of class. The second day is.

Here's what I mean. The first day is important, because on that day the prof is likely to explain what the course is intended to be like. You're also likely to be treated to a lecture on why the course is the most important course you will ever take in law school, and perhaps your whole life. I'm exaggerating, but not overly so. This is called selling the course--and it happens not only in electives, but also in mandatory courses. I certainly do it. I think it helps students see where the course fits in the grand scheme of things, and it gives them a sense of what I think of the subject and why I am teaching it. And I do hope it generates a little excitement to get us all through the drier parts of the course. (And if you are in law school, you know some of it is dry.)

But that first class is often an anomoly. It's on the second day that students are more likely to get their first glimpse of a more average class--no calling of the roll, no grand views of the law. Instead, it's on to theory, doctrine, and the briefing of cases.

So for those of you in law school, pay close attention in those early days. And mark your calendars for class #2.

The Benefits of Senior, Junior, and Adjunct Law Faculty

There was an interesting post on the Law Librarian Blog this week concerning the benefits of senior, junior, and adjunct faculty in the classroom. The post can be linked to here. This is a subject that interests me greatly, and readers will remember that I recently wrote a law review article (in the BYU Education and Law Journal) about junior faculty teaching. You can link to my full article here, and to my previous blog posts on the article here and here. The latter post includes an exchange with UCLA law professor Stephen Bainbridge.

The long and short of it is that this Law Librarian Blog post reviews some of the current scholarship on law faculty teaching by senior, junior, and adjunct professors and provides some interesting commentary on this scholarship. Most interesting, perhaps, is the blog's observation that there seems to be little academic literature on the benefits of senior faculty teaching. Personally, I think this is because the common wisdom in the legal academy is that senior faculty are better teachers all around, so why write about it? I disagree with this view, however--and if you are interested in seeing why, look at my BYU article.

Bainbridge v. Bowman

My law review article on junior law faculty, The Comparative and Absolute Advantages of Junior Law Faculty: Implications for Teaching and the Future of American Law Schools, 2008 BYU Educ. & L.J. 171, was commented on recently by Professor Stephen Bainbridge of UCLA School of Law. It's fair to say he did not like it--his post on the article can be linked to here and reads, in its entirety, as follows:

Via Paul Caron, I learned of Gregory Bowman’s article The Comparative and Absolute Advantages of Junior Law Faculty: Implications for Teaching and the Future of American Law Schools, 2008 BYU Educ. & L.J. 171, in which Bowman argues:

In the ongoing debate about how to improve law school teaching, there is a general consensus that law schools should do more to train junior faculty members how to teach. While this may be the case, this consensus inadvertently leads to an implicit assumption that is not true—that in all facets of law teaching, junior faculty are at a disadvantage compared to senior faculty. In fact, there are aspects of law teaching for which junior faculty can be better suited than their senior colleagues. This Article reviews scholarship concerning law teaching and identifies three teaching factors that generally favor junior law faculty: generational proximity to the law school student body; recency of law practice experience as junior practitioners; and lower susceptibility to the problem of conceptual condensation - extreme depth of subject matter knowledge that makes it difficult to see subjects from the students’ perspective.

This Article employs the economic concepts of (a) economies of scale or productive efficiency and (b) absolute and comparative advantage to suggest how these junior faculty advantages could be harnessed to improve law school teaching. With respect to productive efficiency, it is suggested that greater intra-faculty dialogue can increase a law faculty’s output of effective teaching. Currently, senior faculty members often provide assistance or advice to junior faculty in areas of senior faculty expertise or advantage—such as depth of knowledge in a course’s subject matter—but this is largely a one-way flow of information. However, if junior faculty were also to provide insight and advice to senior faculty regarding areas of junior faculty advantage, the quality of law school teaching might be significantly enhanced. Junior-senior faculty dialogue might be promoted through a variety of means, including faculty workshops and even perhaps teaching reviews of senior faculty by junior faculty.

With respect to the concepts of absolute and comparative advantage, this Article suggests that law school teaching could be improved through the specialization of teaching functions. Instead of professors individually teaching separate courses, professors might coordinate their teaching (that is, team-teach) across a number of courses in the law school curriculum, as a means to more effectively harness the respective strengths (and minimize the respective weaknesses) of junior and senior faculty in the classroom. Through the leveraging of junior faculty advantages, overall law school teaching might be significantly improved. This Article concludes by discussing the implications of these recommendations for law school culture in general and for the legal profession as a whole.

The trouble is that I don’t buy any of the alleged advantages Bowman says junior teachers possess. As for “generational proximity to the law school student body,” it often translates into difficulty for the young teacher to gain respect from the students. Anyway, it seems more relevant to dating than teaching. As for “recency of law practice experience as junior practitioners,” most law professors (at elite schools, anyway) come into practice with only a few years of practice experience. Being bottom man on a deal or litigation team fora couple of years doesn’t translate into meaningful knowledge. At best, it gives you a few war stories. Personally, I’ve learned a lot more that I use in the classroom from consulting than I ever did in practice. Since sniors likely have more consulting opportunities than juniors, this is at best a wash. Finally, as for “lower susceptibility to the problem of conceptual condensation - extreme depth of subject matter knowledge that makes it difficult to see subjects from the students’ perspective,” I’d rather know too much then too little. When I was just starting out, I lived in dread of the student question for which I had no answer. Today, it almost never happens.

* * * *

Needless to say, I disagree with his critique, and I commented on his post as follows:

Thanks very much for the post about my BYU article. I appreciate your comments, and I have some thoughts in response.

First, with respect to generational proximity, you note that this “often translates into difficulty for the young teacher to gain respect from the students.” I agree with you. But this does not mean that understanding student mindsets better—due to generational proximity—is not an advantage. We accept the notion of generation gaps in our society, so why would this not have an effect in the classroom? As law professors, we are trying to reach an adult population of students who at times are disinclined to accept our views and the large workloads we impose in class. If junior professors understand student mindsets better, won’t that help counter that? I am not at all suggesting that more senior professors cannot do this just as well; rather, what I am saying is that as professors become more generationally distant from their students, it may take more active effort for them to stay closely tuned to student mindsets. And that is a comparative disadvantage—more input needed for the same output. In the article I discuss how this particular junior faculty advantage might be leveraged to improve law school teaching.

Your second criticism concerns the value of junior professors’ recent law practice experience. You point out, rightly, that “most law professors (at elite schools, anyway) come into [teaching] with only a few years of practice experience.” But I disagree with your judgment that that “being bottom man on a deal or litigation team doesn’t translate into meaningful knowledge.” For one thing, I learned a lot in my first two years as a corporate lawyer. For another, what will all of our students be when they get out of law school? Junior lawyers of one sort or another. So can’t junior practitioner experience help professors contextualize class material in a way that is relevant and accessible to students? And if a junior professor has done that very type of work within the past 5 years, rather than 20 or 30 years ago, won’t that resonate more with students? Again, this is not to ignore the many benefits of seniority or experience, and it is not to say that more senior faculty can’t work to keep their fingers on the pulse of modern junior associate practice. But they will have to work at it, and not come to it more naturally, as junior faculty often will do.

Third, regarding conceptual condensation, you simply note that you’d “rather know too much than too little.” I absolutely agree. Touting professorial ignorance as a virtue would be flat out dangerous, and I expressly disavow that in my article. But my point is not what we know as professors—the point is how effectively we convey that knowledge to our students. Knowing the answers to all student questions is a very different thing from being able to see issues from the level of student neophytes. I think many students have had professors in law school who were clearly brilliant but were hard to follow in class. And that was not because the students were all stupid. It was in many cases because professors were talking on a higher plane of knowledge than their students. Again, I am in no way saying that senior professors, with more depth of knowledge, cannot communicate effectively in the classroom. But I am saying that they are more likely than junior professors to take mental shortcuts that are clear to them but not to their students, and that they therefore will have to put more effort into guarding against that than junior faculty.

My article is, of necessity, dealing with generalities. But the one-way flow of information and feedback from senior faculty to junior faculty is a widespread characteristic of American law schools, and there is a casual dismissiveness of what junior faculty may have to offer in the classroom. If junior faculty as a whole bring particular teaching skills or strengths to the table—and I think they do—then we do ourselves and our students a grave disservice by ignoring this.

Thanks very much again for your post and your feedback.

* * * *

You be the judge--what do you, the reader, think?

Potpourri Part 2

As a follow-up to my last two posts (here and here), my latest law review article, The Comparative and Absolute Advantages of Junior Law Faculty in the Classroom: Implications for Teaching and the Future of American Law Schools, was recently used as a discussion piece at a junior faculty forum held at Stetson University College of Law. That forum essentially was a pan-Florida conference on the role of junior faculty in law schools. Professor Joe Morrissey of Stetson asked whether my law review article could be used as a discussion piece at the forum. I of course was highly honored and said yes.

Professor Morrissey is active in the Association of American Law Schools' (AALS) Section on New Law Professors, and he wrote about the Stetson forum and my article in the section's annual newsletter. I have posted the newsletter article online here, with the permission of Professor Morrissey and the section. You can can link to my full law review article here.

It perhaps smacks of blatant self-promotion (I generally prefer my self-promotion to be subtle), but I was really pleased that my article was used at the Stetson junior faculty forum. My friend and fellow blogger Professor Paul Secunda of the University of Mississippi School of Law (who is moving to Marquette University Law School in the fall) has said that a virtue of legal scholarship is that it often seeks to solve problems of practical and social relevance. I agree with him, and what I find gratifying about the use of my law review article at Stetson is that perhaps the article might make a difference for some teachers in the classroom--and thus for law schools in general, and their students, and their future clients. Idealistic and quixotic, I know, but no one ever makes a difference by dreaming small.

The Comparative and Absolute Advantages of Junior Law Faculty

As I write this post I am sitting in my hotel room in New York, where I am attending the Association of American Law Schools (AALS) annual meeting. The theme of this year's meeting is "Reassessing Our Roles as Scholars and Educators in Light of Change." There certainly is a lot of change occurring at American law schools these days, and that topic is a key focus of this blog.

Because of my interest in this subject, I am speaking at the conference on a panel sponsored by the AALS Section on New Law Professors, entitled New Law Faculty as Catalysts for Change. The title of my piece is The Comparative and Absolute Advantages of Junior Law Faculty in the Classroom: Implications for Teaching and the Future of American Law Schools. The paper can be accessed online from my Social Science Research Network (SSRN) page here.

This piece is actually a blend of two areas of interest to me: international trade theory, and law school teaching theory and practice. My piece, as the name indicates, applies the concepts of comparative and absolute advantage to the subject of law school teaching, to see what they might tell us about how junior faculty can be used to improve law school teaching and how we might rethink law school teaching overall. Here's an abstract of the article:

In the ongoing debate about how to improve law school teaching, there is a general consensus that law schools should do more to train junior faculty members how to teach. While this may be the case, this consensus inadvertently leads to an implicit assumption that is not true—that in all facets of law teaching, junior faculty are at a disadvantage compared to senior faculty. In fact, there are aspects of law teaching for which junior faculty can be better suited than their senior colleagues. This Article reviews scholarship concerning law teaching and identifies three teaching factors that generally favor junior law faculty: generational proximity to the law school student body; recency of law practice experience as junior practitioners; and lower susceptibility to the problem of “conceptual condensation”—extreme depth of subject matter knowledge that makes it difficult to see subjects from the students’ perspective.

This Article employs the economic concepts of (a) economies of scale or productive efficiency and (b) absolute and comparative advantage to suggest how these junior faculty advantages could be harnessed to improve law school teaching. With respect to productive efficiency, it is suggested that greater intra-faculty dialogue can increase a law faculty’s output of effective teaching. Currently, senior faculty members often provide assistance or advice to junior faculty in areas of senior faculty expertise or advantage—such as depth of knowledge in a course’s subject matter—but this is largely a one-way flow of information. However, if junior faculty were also to provide insight and advice to senior faculty regarding areas of junior faculty advantage, the quality of law school teaching might be significantly enhanced. Junior-senior faculty dialogue might be promoted through a variety of means, including faculty workshops and even perhaps teaching reviews of senior faculty by junior faculty.

With respect to the concepts of absolute and comparative advantage, this Article suggests that law school teaching could be improved through the specialization of teaching functions. Instead of professors individually teaching separate courses, professors might coordinate their teaching (that is, team-teach) across a number of courses in the law school curriculum, as a means to more effectively harness the respective strengths (and minimize the respective weaknesses) of junior and senior faculty in the classroom. Through the leveraging of junior faculty advantages, overall law school teaching might be significantly improved. This Article concludes by discussing the implications of these recommendations for law school culture in general and for the legal profession as a whole.

(Note: If you are not already a user of SSRN you will need to register to use SSRN, but the registration is easy, and it's free. For those unfamiliar with SSRN, it's an online network through which scholars distribute and share up-to-the-minute research. It's a great and free resource for scholarship in the social sciences.)

Also on the panel with me are Emily Hughes of Washington University School of Law in St. Louis, Geoff Rapp of The University of Toledo College of Law, and Ben Madison of Regent Law School. Moderating the panel is Michael Schwartz of Washburn University School of Law. Having him as moderator is excellent, since he is a leading scholar in the area of law school teaching and an all-around good guy.

I will post more about the panel after it occurs. In the meantime, I welcome any thoughts or input about the article.

The Dilbertic Method

The Socratic Method takes a lot of flak from law students and lawyers, many of whom regard it as some form of hazing/hiding the ball/rite of passage. Those are not entirely inaccurate criticisms--by which I mean to say that while I think the method has its place, I never much enjoyed it as a student. For that reason--and for the more important reason that mixing up teaching methods helps (I hope) keep class more interesting and is more conducive to learning--I do not rely on the Socratic Method all that heavily.

I am writing about the Socratic Method because of today's Dilbert comic strip. It was, yet again, about the pointy-haired boss. When I read today's strip (11/25/07, which is available in the Dilbert archives here), my first thought was, "Wow, I used to have a boss just like that." (And no, I am not telling you who it was.)

And then I started thinking about this Dilbert strip in the context of the law school classroom, and it got even better. And funnier. First you need to read the strip. And then you need to read on.

When Dilbert's boss says "I need you to do something, but I don't have time to explain it," that's akin to the feeling law students sometimes get when called on in class under the Socratic Method. That is, you read the cases, think you know where the material is going--and then you go to class, and BOOM, you have no idea what is going on. All kinds of ideas are being extrapolated from the text by the professor. And then you get called on socratically. You hear the words, but what do they mean? What's the answer? In fact, what's the question?

Then the professor asks some sort of leading question, which is intended to facilitate class discussion and critical thinking, but it smells and feels like a trap. Which is sort of like Dilbert's boss saying, "I'll give you just enough information to send you down the wrong path." Like I said, a trap.

Then the professor asks a follow-up question that reveals a potential flaw in your answer or argument. Like I said, a trap, and you have to think your way out of it, shooting from the hip all the while. Which is like Dilbert's boss then saying, "After you do it wrong I'll treat you like you're some sort of idiot . . . [and] then I'll put you through the embarrassment of undoing everything you did." You are faced with revising your answer, in front of the whole class. Not a lot of fun. It's a good skill, mind you--lawyers need to be able to think on their feet and argue their points (we are advocates, after all)--but it is often not fun.

And of course, the ultimate judgment on what students say and think is--grades. It is a common feeling for students to think that a course has been one big game of "hide the ball," and that final exams, especially in the first year, are a crapshoot. Only after you have taken them do you get the chance to figure out if you guessed right or not.

So, Dilbert is funny. Ha ha. But law school is serious business. A lot of what this strip suggests, in the Socratic context, is that law school classes would be better with less hiding of the ball, more engaging teaching, more frequent testing (whether actually for grades or mock exams,) and a lot of other changes. I've actually written an article about it, which I will be posting about soon. In the meantime, we can learn how to improve law schools from Dilbert.

Sounds Like the Law

I heard a story on NPR's Morning Edition today that has to be blogged about. Boston University Law Professor Mark Pettit sings in his Contracts class. What's more, his songs are parodies of pop songs, and they are about the cases he teaches in Contracts. I suppose the experience of being in his class, when he sings, must be like learning the law from Weird Al Yankovic.

There is a good bit of scholarly literature on the subject of humor in education, and how humor improves learning. For a list of some scholarly articles on the subject (all of which are presumably not funny), see here.

Pettit is admirably shameless. People remember something when they laugh about it, and words set to music or in poetry are easier to remember. And as the NPR piece demonstrates, Pettit has engaged students both in and outside the classroom: they pay attention in class, they think about the subject of Contracts outside of class, and they write lyrics for Pettit to perform. That's what's called active learning, and it improves the quality of education. And it makes the experience more fun.

Maybe I should have a Contracts lymerick contest next semester. Or for that matter, why not now? So here are are two lymericks-in-progress for my next class, on the subjects of (a) Leonard v. Pepsico (the video referred to in the case is located here) and (b) Empro Manufacturing Co. v. Ball-Co Manufacturing, Inc., 870 F.2d 423 (7th Cir. 1989) (I can't find a free link to the case). Those who have nothing better to do--and those who do have something better to do but would rather do this--can complete the lymericks and post as comments. Feel free, of course, to revise the lymericks as needed. And it goes without saying, but I will say it anyway: keep it clean!

Re PepsiCo:

PepsiCo did firmly reject
Leonard's claim for a Harrier Jet
[Fill in the rest?]

Re Empro:

When its letter of intent was rejected
Empro said "contracts must be respected"
[Fill in the rest?]

Computer-Free Week, Part 2

I have received some very interesting comments in response to my recent Computer-Free Week post. (Look for them at the end of that post.) The general gist of most of the comments is that some people find it disconcerting not to be able to take notes by computer in class. Some are not used to writing by hand in class and feel lost without their computers. So they think computer bans generally are a bad idea.

I sympathize with that view. A lot, actually—notwithstanding that I am the one who did not allow computers in class last week. Which is why this week in my class we will start with a recap of last week’s materials.

I also have sympathy for (and agree with, in many ways) the libertarian view of computers in the classroom—that what a student wants to do is largely the student’s decision, and if the decision hurts that student’s performance and/or grade, then that is that student’s problem. Yet I do not agree when such libertarianism interferes with other students’ learning by distracting them, or by reducing the quality of classroom discussion (which is part of the educational process). And I believe both sorts of interference occur regularly.

But let's sidestep that issue for a moment and just talk about computer use that does not interfere with others’ learning. In other words, let's assume, for sake of argument, that computer use only hurts (or helps) those who engage in it, without harming others in the class. What then?

One of the commenters to my previous post made the very astute observation that professors sometimes have an “I must save them from themselves” attitude toward their students, especially in 1L classes. This is often characterized as misguided paternalism, and things like computer bans and other rules are derided as autocratic. I concede that this may well be the case, but I also think that sometimes such guidance, paternalistic though it may be, is justified and even desirable.

Think of it this way: the professors are there to teach, and even the most junior professors have more practical and academic experience in the law than their students. Maybe, just maybe, some of the paternalism is warranted. Maybe sometimes students do need to be "saved from themselves," as negative as the connotation of that phrase may be. And if I have a choice between erring on the side of being too blunt (or even paternalistic) in the classroom versus not making a very important point, I'll choose the former error over the latter.

That same commenter also made the following very interesting statement that is worth discussing further:

“If I am made to come to class by the ABA (and subsequently the school) and choose to spend my time unproductively, my $2300 per class buys me that right. If I don't want to participate or think "fantasy" football statistics are more interesting, the only person hurt in the long run is me. And that is what most would call an adult decision.”

Hmm. On the one hand, I do understand and to an extent sympathize with this statement. And let me very clearly state (at the risk of sounding paternalistic, I suppose) that I very much appreciate both the substantive nature and professional tone of that comment. Seriously--read the whole comment at the end of my previous post. This blog is, after all, a dialogue, and I appreciate well-drafted and well thought-through input. I learn from it. But on the other hand I disagree with this statement fairly strongly, and from a number of angles. Here's why.

Neither the ABA nor your law school makes you come to law school. Yes, there are ground rules if you choose to attend a law school and be a lawyer, and class attendance is generally one of them. But law school is not junior high; you are not legally obligated to be there.

Law school is not a consumer product. There is a “consumerist” mentality common amongst current higher education students, and it is troubling to many in the teaching profession. Having said that, many in higher education also take this view--and schools certainly compete for students--but that is problematic too (and a good subject for a future post).

According to the consumerist student view, colleges and universities are largely institutions of credentialization, not of learning. I think many students subconsciously buy into this presumption without thinking too much about it, because in a way it is very attractive. A consumerist student naturally seeks to do the minimum necessary to obtain the degree. While I think efficiency is valuable—and I think the workload in law school helps teach efficiency to an extent—if a student is only (or primarily) looking for a degree, that serves to disengage the student from the educational process. A student might say, Well, I will come to class because I am required to, but I am not going to pay much attention if it does not engage me more than the Internet. But of course, the Internet is always going to be more interesting than, say, subject matter jurisdiction, or expectancy interest, or proximate cause.

The result is less attention paid, and less learned, and a lesser lawyer on the outflow end of the educational pipe. On the one hand, what was not deeply learned may have no negative impact. On the other hand, you never know when knowledge will come in handy. I was constantly amazed in practice by how arcane points from class ended up being a relevant way to make myself stand out from the pack—be it in researching an issue, writing a memo, or talking with clients at a cocktail party. Arcane knowledge can be a great conversation piece; you never know what people are going to be interested in.

Law school is not primarily entertainment. This is closely related to the previous point. Material that is technical, and sometimes boring—like economics, or accounting, or contract law—does not compete well with other distractions, as I already have said. The appropriate standard for deciding whether to pay attention in class is not necessarily whether the material is more interesting than your e-mail account, fantasy football, online shopping, or a crossword puzzle. I am not saying that teachers have a license to be boring; indeed, they have an obligation to teaching engagingly. I am also not suggesting that teachers should ban computers because the class material is hard. What I am saying is that “Class v. Internet” is a comparison of apples to oranges. And while it may seem objective on the surface, the result is preordained.

Your tuition buys you the right to do whatever you want in class, at least as long as you don’t distract others. I have a strong libertarian bent, and generally speaking I agree that if someone chooses not to pay attention in my class that is less of a concern than if she or he is distracting others. But the proper characterization is that this student has the power to do what she or he wants, not the right. Your qualifications and tuition dollars buy you the privilege of attending law school to obtain an education and a degree—which is a very different thing than buying the right to come to class and discretely do whatever you like.

Plus, in my class the syllabus expressly prohibits non-class use of computers in class. So it's part of the contract you have agreed to, if you will. So in that sense too, it's a power, not a right.

I will end with two observations. First, current educational research suggests that there is a difference between multitaskers in class (with computers) and those without computers. Repetitive tasks and memorization can be accomplished well when multitasking. But deep cognitive thinking appears to be hampered by computerized multitasking. A student surfing the web during class may simultaneously win the online fantasy football league and memorize the basics of restitution in contract law, but that student is less likely to see and grasp the subtle connections between, say, expectation damages, specific performance, and service contracts. Not that this alone justifies a computer ban in class. But it does suggest that the libertarian computer user in class is taking a greater risk than might be supposed.

Second, my week-long computer holiday in class was an experiment that I think was useful on several levels, notwithstanding that it probably cost me some popularity or goodwill points with some students. For any readers in my class—any readers anywhere, for that matter—bear in mind that teaching is a creative process. (And not a popularity contest.) If there is no experimentation, teaching is stagnant and does not grow or improve. There will be people who think the ban was helpful, some who think the ban was not, and others who are indifferent. That’s fine, and in fact good—there should be dialogue on these subjects, because there is no easy or absolute answer. But there are multiple viewpoints to be considered and weighed.

Just like in my classes. And just like on this blog, as the comments to my posts so helpfully show.

Computer-Free Week

Yesterday I promised I would post about my "Computer-Free Week" experiment in my 1L Contracts class. The week is not over, so perhaps I am a bit premature in posting on this subject--but on the other hand I am not reporting final results, only first impressions and links to other information on the subject.

Links to Other Information

The Association of American Law Schools' (AALS) Section on Teaching Methods is sponsoring a discussion panel at the AALS Annual Meeting in January 2008 entitled "Laptops in the Classroom: Attractions or Distractions?". Which, of course, ties in directly to my Contracts laptop holiday. I will be at the conference and plan on attending that session.

Other, current discussion of the issue is available online. Here are a few good sources. Thanks to Professor James B. Levy of the Nova Southeastern University's Shepard Broad Law Center for bringing these to my attention.

1. An interview in October 2007 on National Public Radio with Professor Daniel T. Coyne of the Chicago-Kent College of Law, in which Professor Coyne argues in favor of laptop bans.

You would think this sort of position would make him highly unpopular with students--but in 2007 he was named "Faculty Member of the Year" by the Chicago-Kent Student Bar Association.

2. An April 2007 Washington Post op ed by Professor David D. Cole of the Georgetown University Law Center, entitled "Laptops vs. Learning" (great title).

Very interestingly, Cole banned laptops in his 1L class, and then took an anonymous survey of his students to get their views on the ban. 80% said they were more engaged in a no-laptop class, and 70% said they supported the ban. That's very interesting--and it makes me wonder what the results of such a survey might be in my class if I were to implement a long-term ban. I strong recommend his piece; he lays out very well the primary criticisms of computer bans and why he largely rejects these criticisms. These criticisms are, in fact, the very types of arguments that have been made in comments to my previous blog posts on this subject, which are as follows:

Computers in Class
Computer Bans
More on Computer Bans
Multitasking in the Classroom
Multicommenting on Multitasking
Computer Bans Hitting the Mainstream?

3. A similar interview by Professor Cole on NPR in April 2007, in which he basically takes the same line.

This interview goes into greater detail on this same subject. There are also comments from callers that are interesting. One particularly relevant point Cole makes (concedes?) in response to one caller is that not all classes are alike. Cole is largely concerned with how computers might impair classroom discussion--but in a lecture class, that's not an issue. So in some classes, computers might not be liabilities. And I suppose that computers might actually be beneficial in some classes, depending on what the class is and how it is structured (say, a seminar on "Technology and the Law").

My Impressions Regarding My Computer-Free Week

It's too early to tell, really. One class does not a trend make. But class was awfully quiet earlier this week. Perhaps exhaustion and burnout are starting to set in. Perhaps it's because the class material is getting harder (which it is). Perhaps a laptop ban would make no difference. I do not know. What does seem clear is that a longer experiment than one week would be needed to get a feel for a ban's impact. And frankly, in the first semester of law school, and with a generation of computer-wired students, I'm reluctant to ban computers for the sake of an experiment.

Of course, if people are using their computers for non-class activities and distracting other students, that is another story entirely . . . .

Advice to 1Ls at the Start of the School Year

Well, after a busy summer and a few technical difficulties with this blog, I am back. And just in time for the beginning of the school year.

Today thousands of law students had their first classes today, including at my school. For the 1Ls, it is the start of a strange, three-year odyssey. With that in mind, I have decided to point students, and especially new 1Ls, to some of my previous advice about law school. The following are of course not all of my posts about law school--nowhere close--but they are some of the most directly relevant to new 1Ls.

POSTS WITH GENERAL ADVICE FOR 1Ls

Some Advice for Incoming Law Students. This post includes my favorite piece of my own advice--don't read Scott Turow's novel One L until after you have finished your first year of law school. Even though law schools today are kindler and gentler than the law schools of the 1970s about which Turow wrote, there's enough commonality to scare you. So don't read it as a 1L.

PS: I'd give a link to a website about the book, but the best links are to booksellers' sites--and I of course don't want to help 1Ls buy the book. So no link.

More (and Still More) Advice for New Law Students. Pretty self-explanatory.

Law School Orientation Advice. My biggest piece of advice? Don't spill food on your law school's dean at orientation (which I actually did). My law school has already had its 1L orientation this year, so I am a bit late re-posting this advice. But I am happy to report that to my knowledge, no students spilled food on any dean or faculty member.

POSTS REGARDING CLASS PREPARATION AND PARTICIPATION

Getting Called on in Class. This is pretty much every new student's nightmare--so it makes a great blogging topic.

Figuring Out Your Law Professor. It's important to never forget that you are not just taking a particular subject. You are taking a particular professor--and you should adjust your approach to a course accordingly.

How to Brief a Case. The title says it all.

More Thoughts on How to Brief a Case. Ditto.

OTHER ADVICE

What's to Like About Law School? This post actually provides not advice, but rather perspective about the law school experience. The point of the post is that a lot of us (me included) spend a good deal of time hashing over what law schools get wrong. But law schools also get many things right, as the reader comments to this post illustrate.

Reflections on Law School Exams. Final exams aren't until December, but since that's everyone's ultimate goal, it's worth reading this now--and then re-reading it later in November, when exams are upon us.

So enjoy these posts, thanks for reading, and good luck with the start of the academic year!

Multitasking in the Classroom

There's an interesting article by law professor Catherine Ross Dunham in the Spring 2007 issue of The Law Teacher regarding the use of computers in law school classrooms. (Sadly, the article is not yet available on TLT's website, but check back later at the above link; it will be posted at some point.) I have blogged several times about the use (or banning) of computers in the classroom. Those previous posts can be linked to here, here, and here. I encourage you to glance at those posts for a little background on the subject if you are interested--and be sure to read the comments. It's a topic of no small discussion and debate within the legal academy.

In any event, Professor Dunham's article can be summarized as follows:

ONE: She confesses to having surfed the web in law school classes.

TWO: She went back to law school for an LLM last year (she received her JD a few years prior to that), and in her LLM classes she observed most students multitasking with computers in class--instant messaging, surfing the web, paying bills, gambling online--while also paying attention in class. In her opinion, it did not hurt their concentration, grades, or learning. She also claims it did not hurt the quality of class discussion.

THREE: She concludes that there is a generation gap between most professors, including relatively young ones, and their students.

FOUR: She thinks that "much of a law faculty's apprehension about laptops in the classroom relates to us, not [the students]."

Let me respond to these points in reverse order. As to point #4, I fully agree--much of it is about faculty perceptions, and in some cases it is also about faculty insecurities. And yet, that does not mean it is all about faculty perceptions or insecurities. A previous commenter suggested that I run an experiment in class, in which on some days I ban computer use and see what happens. That's something I am likely to do at some point--especially if a class seems filled with zombies, not law students.

Regarding point #3, ouch. She is right. I graduated from law school in 1994, and only one student in my 1L section (100 students) used a computer in class. I didn't have a computer with Windows until after I graduated from law school. And I neither own an iPod nor have plans to get one, which officially qualifies me as a neo-fogey. But again, her point goes to striving to understand our students. That may mean allowing computers in class. But then again, it may not. Which is a good segue into . . .

Point #2: I am sure modern students are better multitaskers than many professors, including those of a certain age like me (30s and 40s). Having said that, I multitasked quite well in law practice--you have to--but on the weekends I could get a "full day" of work done (what would take me a full weekday, including interruptions) in about 5 hours (that is, without interruptions). Not much multitasking efficiency in that.

And while I am at it, I do have to observe that just because students can do something does not mean they should be encouraged or permitted to do so. Little kids want to eat dessert for each meal, yet should we let them? They are better off, we generally think, being made to eat broccoli sometimes, even though they may want chicken nuggets and fries for any and all meals. In like fashion, would law students be better off in the long run (that is, be better lawyers) if we were to force them sometimes to "uni-task" in class on just a single matter--just as they are supposed to in client interviews, in court, and in depositions? They already know how to multitask, but I wonder if some of them know how not to.

And finally, as for point #1, I know the temptation is strong to surf or do other stuff in class. I sometimes take my computer to faculty meetings, so that I have have access to relevant files on my laptop during the meeting--and believe me, the temptation to work on other matters and check the news online is quite strong sometimes during those meetings. But I don't. It's disrespectful to my colleagues, and ultimately does not further the purpose of the meetings. The same can be said for non-class use of computers in the classroom.

My intuition tells me that my classes would run better--better interaction, better student concentration, fewer distractions to other students--if I were to ban computers. And yet Dunham has very good points. And at the end of the day, is such paternalism worth the effort? I don't have my mind made up on this one. The tension between anti-paternalism and concern over classroom dynamics is quite strong in my mind. But if I do make up my mind, I'll certainly post about it on this blog.

Swamped

Apologies for not posting more lately; the graphic says it all. April is always a busy, busy month at law schools, and not just for students preparing for exams. Having said that, I would rather grade them than take them.

I have a number of posts on the way, including exam-taking advice ('tis the season) and advice for 3Ls still searching for jobs (at the request of a student at a law school on the East Coast). But in the meantime, please check out a recent article from the Chronicle of Higher Education called "Don't Give it Your Best." It's not about law school, but it is about the travails of finding a higher education teaching job, and the balance to be struck between classroom teaching and research. And it's a bit depressing. There's an awful lot I could say about it--such as regarding the tensions between interests of students versus teachers versus schools, what schools reward financially (hint: not always teaching or student support), and what helps you land that teaching job--but I will save it for another time when the swamp has been at least partially drained. Until then, any comments or thoughts from readers about this article are much appreciated.

Anna Nicole Goes to Law School

It's all over the blogosphere now: various law profs across the country are discussing Anna Nicole Smith's will in their classes, as a way of making the law more accessible, or at least more interesting in this age of pop culture. Her early death and poorly drafted will--and the ensuing legal battles over her young daughter and her burial--make this a case of truth truly being stranger than fiction.

You can start your own legal research of the subject with this AP article (reissued via MSNBC.com) and with blog posts on TaxProf Blog and Wills, Trusts & Estates Prof Blog. And don't forget this March 8 article from the Phoenix New Times, which reports that Smith may have had a secret love child in 2001. (A more concise, and less melodramatic, report appeared on March 12 in the New Zealand Herald.) How does that play into the mix?

Note that the media coverage of this law school trend seems positive. Should it be? Is this truly a case of making the law "come alive" through current events? (No decedent jokes, please.) Should her case be discussed in law school classes because students with computers are reading about it online anyway, instead of taking notes? Or is the fact that Smith's case is being discussed in law school classes somehow being used to legitimize the media frenzy surrounding her death?

I don't know, but I suspect some of you have opinions about it--please share them here.

Law School "Family Day"

Last Friday, Mississippi College School of Law (MCSOL) held its first "Family Day." Law students could invite family members to attend a luncheon and a "mock class"--actually two mock classes of one half hour each. The idea, of course, was to give family members a flavor of what law school is like, and also show them what some of the law profs at MCSOL are like. I taught a mock Contracts class on specific performance, and my colleague Debbie Challener taught a Civ Pro class on federal question jurisdiction. It was a fun event, and a good number of the students' parents and kids attended. I hope the family members had half as much fun as I did.

What struck about the mock class was that it truly had the vibe and energy of a 1L class on the first day of school. It's now late February, and student burnout is setting in hard. My Contracts class meets in a windowless auditorium, and I wonder whether the lack of natural light subdues things--class participation is tapering off fast. On the other hand, my International Law class meets in a classroom with long banks of windows, and the students in that class all seem to be mentally gazing out the window, if not physically doing so. Can't win for losing.

I remember this period of time vividly from my own 1L year. Burnout in the 1L year is a nearly universal experience. I really, really started disliking nearly all of my classmates in February or March: despite the fact that they were nice people, I resented being cooped up in a classroom with them 15 hours a week.

So back to the Family Day mock class: there was a positive charge in the air. There's little in law school teaching that beats a classroom filled with eager, excited people who are ready to learn. And there it was. On top of the benefit for the families and the school, I found it recharged my teaching batteries. That was an unexpected and wonderful gift.

Weekly Roundup--Feb. 19, 2007

This is my second installment of noteworthy posts or events of the week. Highly unscientific, but hopefully highly interesting.

More (and More) on Taking Law School Exams. There were some substantive posts in the past week on law school exams and how (and how not) to take them. I posted on this subject recently too (see Reflections on Law School Exams and More Information on Exams).

• In a recent post, Orin Kerr of the Volokh Conspiracy discusses in some detail what is (and is not) a good law school exam answer. He usefully illustrates his points with a little hypothetical--materials from a make-believe course, an exam question, and five sample exam answers. Make sure you check out the comments.

• Daniel Solove at Concurring Opinions also offers his take on law school exams.

Note the commonalities in the advice posted by Kerr, Solove, me, and other law profs out there. If a lot of people (grading the exams) tell you the same thing, there's probably something to it . . . .

Blogs in the Classroom. On his blog, Stephen Bainbridge has posted about the use of blogs in teaching. He's using a course-focused blog to great effect--making his slides, handouts, audio of his actual class lectures, and related materials available online for anyone who wants to access them. That is an excellent idea, and Bainbridge can hold his head high if anyone ever accuses him of being an academic because he does not want to work hard. (Which someone does in a comment on another recent post of his, in which Bainbridge compares law practitioner salaries to law prof salaries.) He really could get away with not posting these materials, and yet he does it anyway. Kudos.

So why don't all professors do this? There are probably as many reasons as there are law profs, but I do note that Bainbridge has been teaching for a while, which has given him time to hone his materials.

Most interesting to me is the excerpt Bainbridge quotes from an interview of Professor Jack Balkin (of the blog Balkinization) about blogs opening up possibilities for law students to hear the views of law profs at other schools far more easily than, say, just a few years ago. I see this as very beneficial for students (check out the comments to Bainbridge's post), and also perhaps as raising the bar of accountability for law profs. Both of which are good things.

Big Firm Salaries. At Concurring Opinions, Scott Moss points out in a recent post that despite the media frenzy over recent (and previous) big law firm pay hikes for associates, the average increase over the past decade has been only 6.5% annually. That's better than the national average, but not huge. But the headline "Associates get Modest Pay Raises" won't sell many papers.

As a former soldier in the big firm trenches, I can say that the associates generally earn these raises, too.

Blog of the Week. This honor goes to the HRHero blog That's What She Said, on which blogger and HR attorney Julie Elgar discusses legal issues raised by the US version of the TV show "The Office." Neat concept for a blog.

More Information on Exams

In a recent post I set out some thoughts about final exams and what students do well (and not so well) when preparing for and taking them. (See Reflections on Law School Exams, 2/8/2007.) In addition to my two cents, Pitt's Jurist site has an excellent compendium of advice regarding law school final exams. It includes advice from a variety of law profs and other commentators. It's a list worth checking out.

Improving Law Schools

The Carnegie Foundation for the Advancement of Teaching is finalizing a report entitled Educating Lawyers: Preparation for the Profession of Law. The full report will be available in March 2007, but there is a very useful 16 page summary of the report available right now for free. It can be accessed here. Thanks to my colleague Jeff Jackson for bringing the report to my attention.

Previous posts and comments on Law Career Blog pertain to the strengths and shortcomings of American legal education. (See, e.g., Is the Third Year of Law School a Waste of Time and Money? and Is Law School Itself a Waste of Time?) The summary and pending full Carnegie report address this topic too, and the summary makes for very interesting reading. One thematic commonality that runs through it is that "[t]he dramatic results of the first year of law school's emphasis on well-honed skills of legal analysis should be matched by similarly strong skill in serving clients and a solid ethical grounding."

In other words, this study concluded that the first year of law school provides a solid doctrinal underpinning for students, who learn legal analysis--how to "think like a lawyer." This educational experience needs to be matched, however, by similar efforts in the second and third year to educate students not only about doctrine, but also about legal practice. By so doing, law schools could teach students more and prepare them better for the practice of law.

I've posted on the question of whether the third (and even second) year of law school is a waste of time (see the above links; my answer = no), and there has been some excellent commentary from readers on the subject. The Carnegie report suggests, and I tend to agree, that the problem is not that law school is not beneficial or should be shortened, but rather that upper level courses should focus on developing skills that complement the doctrinally-focused skills of the 1L curriculum.

This conclusion and recommendation speaks directly to the common practitioner complaint that new law school grads don't know anything about practicing law. I often think such complainers mean that law school's focus on doctrine is wrong--too much theory, too little skills training--but the Carnegie report does a nice job of emphasizing that you need both.

I encourage anyone interested in the subject to read the Carnegie report summary and post any comments you might have here.

Reflections on Law School Exams

I have had several readers ask for my post-exam thoughts about what students should and should not do on final exams. I have posted on this subject before, but since grades come out every semester it's worth writing about again. Hopefully I can shed some new light on the subject, at least from my perspective as a law exam grader. My previous posts on law school exams, by the way, are as follows.

• How Law School Professors Write Exams


• Last Minute Final Exam Advice


• How to Improve Your Law School Exam Grades


• More about Law School Grades


• Exam Grades and Curves

So what else can I say? The views I expressed in my previous posts really have not changed, but here are some supplemental thoughts.

1. Know Your Audience, and Remember the Purpose of an Exam. For law school exams, your audience is your professor--someone who knows the subject better than you, but who nonetheless wants you to demonstrate your knowledge of the subject. You are not talking down to your audience if you demonstrate on the exam that you know, say, the basics of manifestation of mutual assent. If you don't explain in summary fashion what the law is, you risk a lower score.

2. Corollary to #1: Law School Exams Grade Performance, not Just Knowledge. On a law school exam--at least an essay exam--you are presented with a fact pattern. Your task is to identify what doctrinal rules are relevant and then apply them. Knowing the law is necessary for a good grade (you can't apply the law if you don't understand it), but it is not sufficient.

3. Another Corollary to #1: To Perform Better on Exams, Take Some Practice Exams. Let's say you got a lower grade than you wanted. Does that mean you didn't know the law? No, it means you did not perform on that particular exam, most likely by not applying the law as well as you might have. For future exams, practice applying the law. Get together with class mates you trust, draft sample exam questions for each other, and practice answering them. It is my opinion that the process of creating your own sample exams can be a highly educational process, because it forces you to really think about how the various legal rules and principles interact. Also try looking on the web for sample exams--although the casebooks used and the topics covered by those other professors will affect the usefulness of those exams.

Note: For anyone in my current Contracts class, I will be handing out some sample exams later in the semester. But I encourage you to craft your own sample questions too.

4. Organize Your Exam Answers. I saw a lot of exam answers this year that were not well-organized. I sympathize entirely with the urge to simply start writing--after all, there's not much time in a three-hour exam. But if you don't (a) think through how you want to organize your answer (which means you need to outline your answer before you start writing), and then (b) follow that template, you are bound to miss issues or at least give short shrift to some issues.

Here's the point: on average, you will score higher on an exam if you hit all (or at least most) of the issues adequately--as opposed to really nailing some and missing or underexploring others. If you outline that does leave you less time to write, but that is MORE than offset by the fact that you will spend less time spinning your wheels or restating something you have already covered.

5. Corollary to #4: Exam Length is not Always Related to Exam Score. There are 3 general lengths of exam answers: short, medium, and long. That sounds all too obvious, but it's worth pointing out, in order to highlight the relationship between exam answer length and exam answer score.

In my experience, writing less than around 1700 words on a 3 hour essay exam means that you run significant risk of not having enough words to discuss and analyze difficult legal rules and principles. So there is a strong corellation between short answers and lower exam scores.

Medium answers are, in my experience, anything between 2000 and 2700 words. (I guess that means 1700-2000 is a gray zone.) A 2000 word answer can be competent, but in the "medium" category longer answers generally translate into better scores.

Interestingly, however, for long answers--generally those above 3000 words--there is a very weak correlation between word count and score. And this gets me back to my point about organization. A well organized answer can cover more ground in fewer words than a long (but poorly organized) answer.

This means that sacrificing some length at the alter of organization is a wise trade-off.

6. Another Corollary to #4: Organizing Your Answer Helps Demonstrate to the Professor That You Know What You are Doing. The ability to identify relevant issues and then discuss them in organized fashion is a necessary skill for the practice of law. That's what you do in memos to clients, and that's what you do in briefs or other submissions to a court. Whenever I read a well organized answer, the message I get is "this person knows what s/he is doing." In contrast, a disorganized answer that flails about makes it difficult or impossible for me to tell whether the person knew the law, or simply got portions of the exam right by accident--and the result is a lower grade.

7. Yet Another Corollary to #4: Write an introduction for your answer. I may differ from other law profs on this point, but I see very little downside to writing a very brief introductory paragraph for your essay exam answer. It takes about 5 minutes--and all you do is concisely state what the issues raised in the question are and what you will be discussing in your answer. And then you follow that format throughout your answer.

This is another way to demonstrate to the prof that you know what you are doing. It also makes the exam easier to read, because the prof knows what's coming later in the answer. It is always easier to read something--an essay, magazine article, memo, anything--if the author first gives a roadmap. So even if an introduction does not garner you any direct points, it helps the grader follow what you are doing, and that should at least indirectly improve your score. (It's also a way to force yourself to be organized in your answer.) And as I said, even if it does not help, it really does not hurt much, since it only takes a few minutes to write an introduction.

8. Do not Try to be Clever or Original. Points for style and eloquence are nice, but generally you are better off focusing on getting the substance of your answer down, instead of being overly concerned with phraseology. So eschew grandioloquent prose for simple, straightforward language.

Of course you will use use legal terminology (e.g., tortfeasor, party-in-breach, etc.) to demonstrate your knowledge (and ability to apply) the law. Just don't get flowery.

* * * *

Those are just some of my thoughts. Any comments?

More on Computer Bans

In one of my recent posts, Computer Bans, I discussed whether computers should be banned from law school classes. It's a topic that has interested me partly because of the strong feelings it brings out in people, partly because computers are in some sense a distraction in class (like it or not), and partly because computers have revolutionized learning and the classroom in phenomenally positive ways. So it's not an easy topic--lots of pluses and negatives cutting against one another. And it's an important topic, too, since it pertains to learning.

I received a very good anonymous comment in response to that post. The first part of the comment was as follows:

I find that using a computer is beneficial only because it is what I am more comfortable with. Banning laptops in a classroom, to me, would be like telling a right-handed student they could only write with their left hand. Though there may not be a significant difference between those who type and those who write by hand, I foresee a significant difference between those who originally wrote by hand and those who used to type, but due to a ban, now write by hand.

That's an excellent point. Is banning laptops like making righties write with their left hand? Are some people so dependent on taking notes by computer that banning computers truly impairs their ability to take notes? In many cases, I suspect not--which means that in many cases, I suspect the analogy does not hold all that well. On the other hand (ha!), I suspect the analogy may be a very good one for some students.

Perhaps the point is that while I might suspect this or that, it's hard to actually know. So let's assume for a moment that the left hand-write hand analogy does hold in some cases. Is the question then one of cost-benefit analysis? For example, if the diffuse benefit of improving classroom dynamics (which benefits the whole class) is great, does it outweigh the specific disadvantage imposed on a few in the class? Or do we want to take the position that even if you could measure this diffuse benefit versus concentrated harm, such concentrated harm is not justified?

I sound like an economist, I know. My point is that these things are hard to measure, and even if we could measure them, harming a few people a lot through a computer ban might just be unacceptable from a policy perspective. So maybe things should be left as they are.

In other words, the left hand-right hand argument is a compelling one, so thanks to this commentator for sharing it. It's a good example of powerful advocacy. And if the commentator had stopped right there, I might have simply conceded the point. But then comes the really fun part of the comment:

I do not understand why a professor would want to handicap students. Does a game of solitaire bruise your ego that badly? It seems that a student who engages in laptop activities that are not class related would perform poorly and the problem should correct itself. If not, then what is the problem? It may be the devilish sense of schadenfreude that law school has instilled, but please support the laptop revolution.

Hmm. Here, the comment misses the point. The point is not my (not so tender) ego. At least in my classes, a computer ban would not be about ME. It would be about the students, believe it or not. (And if you don't believe it, that won't bruise my ego.) Here's what I mean.

ONE: As a lawyer, you have to learn to pay attention, and sometimes even take notes on a legal pad (gasp!). Lawyers are professionals, and paying attention is a professional skill. So is asking students to do it in class such a bad idea? Yes, we all multitask, but are you really going to answer your phone, send an e-mail, shop online AND interview a client at the same time? No, you are going to just interview the client, and not always using a computer. So a computer ban might help model that behavior in law school--since the students are there to become lawyers. And with all the current criticism of how law schools are not practical (including comments on this blog), this would be a very practical approach to training people to focus, which is essential in law practice.

I concede that a ban for this reason would be paternalistic. But that alone does not mean it could not be beneficial.

TWO: Shopping during class, or watching movies during class, or IM'ing during class--doing anything non-class related during class--can be very distracting TO OTHER STUDENTS. I have had students (this academic year, mind you) tell me how distracting it is when people with computers do this in class. A computer ban would help those people.

THREE: I am not sure how well I am going to articulate this point, but here goes. If a teacher asks people in a class to not do something, and then people do it anyway, and the teacher then takes action to prohibit that behavor, why is the teacher the problem? Let me requote the comment: "I do not understand why a professor would want to handicap students. Does a game of solitaire bruise your ego that badly?" I would answer with a question of my own: If I tell students not to use computers in class for non-classroom activities, and then they do it, why is that somehow my shortcoming?" How would I be engaged in "taking pleasure in someone else's misfortune" (the definition of Schadenfreude) if I were to prohibit computers in class in that situation? All rhetorical questions, of course.

This third point of course ignores other possible benefits of computer bans, such as improved classroom discussion and closer attention to the lecture (as opposed to transcription of the lecture).

* * * *

The more I think about computer bans, the less sure I am that a computer ban is what I would want to do--even though it might have some benefits. It's a complicated issue, and the comments I have received on this blog have been very, very helpful for me, so please keep them coming.

Let me close by pointing out the irony in this case: if students didn't use computers in class for non-class activities, didn't distract others in class through this behavior, and didn't focus on transcription of lectures versus participating in class discussion, we wouldn't be having this discussion. In other words, I wonder whether the focus of criticisms and discussion should be less on professorial egos or shortcomings and more on the reasons why such bans have been implemented by some, and considered by others. That's why I find the "analogy of the hands" compelling, and discussions of ego off the mark.