Monday, October 14, 2002

Minor league redemption

Redux

So I’m back in my Criminal Law class, the one class that assigns more reading than any other, and whose lectures are more confusing than any other. It’s the class in which I’ve previously publicly embarrassed myself (see earlier entry “Socratic Method”).

And, I haven’t quite finished the reading, once again. Which necessarily means that I haven’t briefed the cases for the class, either (more about this later, in another entry). I’ve generally gotten better at keeping on top of the reading, but not today.

The girl sitting next to me tells me before class begins that she hasn’t done her reading, so she doesn’t know what she’ll do if he calls on her. She could pretend not to even be present. There have been a few times when he’s called on a name from his roster, and no one responded—which he didn’t seem to mind. He simply called on another name. The problem with this approach is that he has a seating chart. Lucky for her, though, someone’s taken the seat she’s supposed to be at, so she’s been displaced, and is now sitting fairly far from her old seat. So she has a valid excuse if she’s asked why she’s not there.

Option 2 is to simply apologize and tell the professor that she hasn’t done the reading and isn’t prepared. We’ve seen this happen twice before, and in both cases, the professor was very nice about it (in fact, slightly apologetic, as if he’d been slightly rude to the student!). Then he called on his next victim. Now despite the fact that we’re studying Criminal Law, which is all about the moral condemnation of the community poured out against those who have defied the laws by which we live, our professor is a very nice, noncondemnatory kind of person. (Perhaps this is due to his work as a criminal defense lawyer. Maybe things would be worse if we had a former prosecutor as our professor). In fact, stories have been told of professors who do not take option 2 well. In one of them, the professor yelled directly at a girl who wasn’t prepared and asked her why she was in the class, why she was even in law school. This reduced her to tears.

Option 3, which is only possible if he’s not asking for information directly from the reading, is to actually try to answer the question. This is risky, because you’re trying not to contradict anything in the reading (which you haven’t read).

OK, so she tells me she hasn’t read. I tell her I haven’t read. Option 1 isn’t open to me, because I’m sitting close to my seat on the chart. Furthermore, I’ve asked enough questions after previous classes that I think he knows my name. So it’s down to Option 2 or Option 3 if he calls on me.

Today’s topic is criminal homicide, the unlawful killing of a human by another human. Now depending on what laws apply, and how they’re interpreted, homicide can be split into a number of different specific crimes that you could be charged with: first degree murder, second degree murder, voluntary manslaughter, involuntary manslaughter, and some other things, too. So, this class is about how to determine which crimes people in different situations could be charged with.

We run through a couple of different hypothetical situations. He calls on different students to explain how to determine what crimes the defendants in each situation could be charged with. We have lengthy discussions regarding these 3 hypos.

So, time is running out, there’s less than 10 minutes before the end of the class period. Then he calls on . . . Brian (name has been changed to protect identity). Brian’s been picked on several times in the last few weeks. This is unusual, because there are about 60 students in our class, and he normally calls on 3-4 students in each class session. However, we only have this class twice a week.

Brian is always surprised when he’s called on. Well, everyone is, but he’s more surprised than most. Whenever you’re called on, and your mind is shocked, you ask the professor to repeat the question. This is a stalling tactic—it buys you a bit of time in which to formulate an answer.

But even before he does so, the professor realizes that he’s disproportionately called on him in the past, and says so. So, he looks at his list . . . and calls on me.

Now, understand that even when I haven’t read for a class, I pay close attention to what’s going on. Consequently, in every lecture, I’m learning a good deal. So, thinking of how he's gone through the previous hypos, I go for Option 3. It’s not exactly a conscious decision. I just automatically start thinking about the analysis and talk.

So, the situation is that a guy is running an illegal crystal methamphetamine lab in the woods somewhere, when he accidentally starts a forest fire. Such labs are known for their accidental fire potential. (I could gladly discuss why organic chemicals, of the kinds used here, are volatile and flammable, but that’s another class.) Firefighters come to put it out, including 2 airplane water tankers. The tankers collide, killing both pilots. What criminal liability is incurred?

I hesitantly manage to spout out something on its way to resembling a coherent answer. Along the way, I ask a stupid question ("I'm assuming that running a crystal meth lab is a felony, right?") and am mildly embarassed. But on the whole, I struggle through, and am saved by the clock before having to state a conclusion. (Depending on what state this happens in, he’s liable for either 2nd degree felony murder or involuntary manslaughter.)

Afterwards, 2 people tell me I gave a good answer. Don't know if they were lying just to make me feel better, but it doesn't matter. It does make me feel better. Cool.