The Law Needs Listeners

“Kill the bill, kill the bill!” I could hear the chorus of voices growing louder from down the hall. It was July of 2017 and a muggy afternoon in the Hart Senate Office Building, and everyone watched in anticipation of the Senate Trumpcare vote in two weeks. As lowest rank in the office—the sophomore college intern—I was given the task of locking the office doors to keep the peaceful demonstrators out. Sympathetic to the concerns of those who approached, I still wondered what they really hoped to achieve by chanting.

As I met eyes with the protestors from the other side of the locked glass doors, I nervously turned around to ask for instruction. Silence. The front office was completely empty, and only I remained. On my subway ride home that evening, I thought back to the hundreds of constituent phone calls I had taken that week for the Senator, imploring considerations and describing personal health concerns. I had submitted detailed notes for each call, but I questioned whether they were actually read. I began to realize that having one’s voice heard necessitates somebody listening, and these people were desperate to be heard.

Years later, as an advocate-in-training, I often find myself focusing on the work that is done through expression—how to communicate effectively in debate or conversation. Indeed, it seems a lion’s share of law school is devoted to the pursuit of vocalization: cold calls that test your ability to speak on your feet or exams wherein strong arguments are rewarded.

I do not overlook the art of expression as a vital part of lawyering, and that worthy goals cannot be achieved without it. However, I believe that we often neglect an even more fundamental competence, listening, and listening well. Whatever one’s legal objective may be, whether social change or excellent client service, do not discount this.

Good listening requires more than just sitting in a room together and hearing words (although some do not even make it that far). It requires the growth of personal attributes and concrete action.

If Duke Ellington’s genius came from playing what he heard on the street corner, let us take to the streets then. Behind the turnstiles of the law school, we are surrounded by lawyers and future-lawyers. The environment is ripe for law-talk, but most of our future clients will not be lawyers. We can learn to listen more productively by venturing out and seeking our own street corners from which the people are speaking. Consider the spheres of activity relevant in your own life and become attuned to them. For me, this might include the church I attend on Sundays or the barbershop I visit every month. In quiet observation of the world and its controversies, what is left to do but listen? While I mean this in a literal and physical sense, it is not exclusive—the Wiki’s “On the Radar” section can be accessed at any time.

We have been encouraged to find clients for good reason, and such a relationship seems inextricably linked to the lawyer’s role as a listener. One cannot expect to go about helping to solve the problem of another without a proper understanding of the problem itself, and such an understanding comes in part from an appreciation of the client within their frame of reference, hearing them. Developing this empathy is a significant step to productive listening and effective lawyering. As I think back t0 the senate healthcare activists, I see in them individuals who needed their problems addressed, jazz tunes asking to be played.

Empathetic listening imbues work with meaning, and engaging with the human concerns behind a legal problem makes solving the problem all the more satisfying. In many instances, good listening transpires as part of an ongoing relationship where building rapport through listening facilitates the ability to have more candid—better—conversations in the future.

There are several things that can get in the way of good listening. At times, one’s own proficiency may work to drown out the voice of another. In marketing our “expertise” on a topic, we acknowledge the hard time and effort we have put into our craft and perhaps justify the (oftentimes exorbitant) fees we charge for our services. But even as a first-year law student, I have felt an inclination to let this go to my head. Ego can turn the process of listening solely into a waiting period, a formality to acknowledge before getting your opportunity to speak. As Judge Day said, “If you know how to talk, you know how to listen … It’s those who don’t listen to what they are saying who are the most insufferable…” Heeding these words, it seems that radical self-awareness can provide an antidote to getting over the love of our own voices. On an individual level, this means learning to read a room, being attune to moments when another’s voice needs lifting. Sensitivity to historical and contemporary social inequalities may inform this effort. At other times, bias and pre-judgement hinder otherwise good-faith efforts to hear objectively. A bit of humility may go a long way in ameliorating such obstructions.

Better listening will improve relationships, both professional and personal, and can be a powerful tool for social and legal change. But to do so, we must open the door and take a careful look at the world and within ourselves. On July 27, 2017, Trumpcare failed by one vote. Perhaps an unlocked door and an open ear made the difference.