Arguing to a Wall

Image source (they sell posters of this image).

Practicing law is the art of convincing others to do something they don't want to do. Lawyers do that with words. In the best case, the lawyer uses facts and the law to persuade, then listens to opposing arguments and modifies his argument based on the merits of the rebuttal.

Sometimes the dispute is legitimate. The set of facts can be interpreted in multiple ways under the law and both parties have a point. For instance, a female employee complains that her boss has sexually harassed her. Her facts? He slapped her on the ass when she was bent to pick up a file. His story? He was swatting a fly and accidentally slapped her. Part of a lawyer's job is sorting the details and uncovering the truth.

In the end, what actually happened can be confusing or unclear and the case comes down to what a jury would believe if the case was put to them. At this point in the process, the rhetoric kicks into high gear — lawyers love to talk, to explain, to cajole. There is a point in nearly every case where one or both lawyers' behavior decays into that which the public expects from them: saying anything to win the case.

But at some point, good lawyers will refuse to engage in that cajoling. Those lawyers will explain the costs of continuing litigation (including their own fees), explain the pros and cons of continuing litigation with their clients, explain how the case is going to look to a jury, and suggest that the parties negotiate to a conclusion.

Whereas bad lawyers will encourage their client's prejudices and one-sided view of the case (thereby increasing their fees). The will "divorce knowledge from justice" as it were to prevail in the dispute. This is the point in those cases where I become demoralized and want to quit. But this is also the point in the case where the opponent reveals his weaknesses and is most vulnerable.

Knowledge which is divorced from justice, may be called cunning rather than wisdom.
Marcus Tullius Cicero 

A savvy opponent can use the increasing vitriol to his or her advantage. To do so, look for the following types of remarks:

• Focusing on the attorney's skill or experience rather than the facts or the law — an ad hominem attack.
• Arguing points which the opponent is not making — straw man.
• Arguing new points when old ones are refuted — moving the goal post.
• Making up two alternatives and saying the opponent's point fits into the losing alternative — false dichotomy.

This is a very short list of fallacies you can see in legal writing and reasoning; there are many more. I see these and others in my work all the time. And why are these important? Because illogical arguments are like an intoxicating vapor to a court or a jury. If left unchecked, they can allure the fact-finder into an easy answer — something they may be looking very hard for. However, a skilled attorney can dissipate the vapor by simply pointing out the fallacy — no judge wants to be seen as irrational.

Your honor, while counsel's opinion sounds satisfying, it suffers from a fatal flaw: it does not flow logically from the established facts....

With that preamble, the attorney can set the course straight and move forward maybe to win, maybe to lose, but on the facts and law and not on fallacy.

Its important to note that other logical fallacies are inherent in the law, and learning how to fight them is difficult and separates good from great lawyers: the appeal to authority (all law is based on legal precedent — here's one person's opinion about why appeal to authority is not a logical fallacy in the law; I have a different take (the law requires consistency) and will write about it later) and appeal to emotion (before a jury, the sympathetic party has a huge advantage and some say you can combat it; more in a future post).

Learn and combat the logical fallacies — Learn to avoid them in your own life.

—Your Bear

The Art of Speaking

When I was a kid, I really wanted to be an author. I read a lot: fantasy, science fiction, art history, science, encyclopedias (remember those?), the Bible, the dictionary, pretty much everything in our meager library. I had a lot of knowledge, but no experience. I cast about looking for a path. I used to walk alone in the woods giving oratory on any topic which interested me.

I used to take an iris stalk and pretend I was the fairy king. I used to take off my clothes and see how far I could get hiking naked (very far indeed) without being discovered. All the while imagining myself in a far away land, brimming with possibility. I felt ready for college when it approached. I felt ready for anything.

Rude awakening: college was not ready for me.

When I chose my college, I chose the most idyllic but incongruous setting imaginable for a northern kid: Hampden-Sydney College. An all-male perfunctory post-secondary educational institution for decaying southern aristocracy before they became nobody-but-well-paid politicians, mid-level managers at family companies, and leisure-class layabouts. I was not in my element. Nobody wanted a naked, iris-weilding fairy amongst them. But that is a story for another blog post. This post is about using language.

Hampden-Sydney's freshman curriculum did not contain classes in English, Composition, or Public Speaking. Instead, the class was called "Rhetoric." Rhetoric is the art of persuasion — winning people over to your side:

rhetoric (rĕt'ər-ĭk) n. 1.a. The art or study of using language effectively and persuasively. ... 2. Skill in using language effectively or persuasively. —American Heritage Dictionary.

The art of persuasion. But it is an interesting choice of title for a class. Anachronistic, almost lurid. Why? Because of this alternative definition:

3.b. Language that is elaborate, pretentious, insincere, or intellectually vacuous.

For a college so ready to disown a pupil, this later definition resounds in my head whenever I think about that class. It particularly resounds now that my career is all about "using language persuasively." I often remark that practicing law is the art of getting people to do what they don't want to do. It resounds when I use the word in its primary sense (the use of language), and it reminds me of another story.

One of the tasks with which lawyers are beset is conferring with opposing counsel. Ideally, counsel is dispassionate and polite when speaking to the other side directly. But that is often not the case.

I was in an extended battle with opposing counsel to retrieve certain information during the discovery process. She, as attorneys are wont to do, was hiding something; and I, similarly, was intrigued by the riddle. To keep the information from me, we were arguing about the meaning of a word. I asked her to "look beyond the rhetoric [sense 1.a.]" and realize that her client had the duty to provide the information sought.

That word set her off. "Rhetoric [sense 3.b.]? You think this is about rhetoric?" Indeed, I did, since we were talking about semantics [follow the link, sense 2].

I replied, "Well, its semantics, so yes, we're just arguing about the meaning of this term. I've defined it for you, so please respond according to my definition."

Image credit: Wikipedia.

Trust me when I tell you, do not assume that a juris doctor has a large vocabulary. Apparently "semantics" is also derisive to her because she promptly swore at me and hung up the telephone. (I subsequently won a motion to compel on the topic, by the way. A rhetorical victory for semantics.)

All this is to make my point: Its no wonder that the ancients thought words were magic. Your words often have meaning beyond what you've put behind them. Choose them judiciously and meagerly:

Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill. —Buddha

—Your Bear

Politics: Take Sides Gay-boys

Two things irk me (OK, many things irk me): voters who assert that there is no difference between the two parties and gay Republicans. The former because it is demonstrably untrue, the later because civil rights are the single most important difference between the two parties.

As to why the two parties are not different, I have some problems too. For instance, neither candidate is making global warming a priority, science is not sufficiently high in the platforms of either party, the new Affordable Healthcare Act does not go far enough, and the parties' views on tax policy are deceptively similar. Nevertheless, the list of why Obama is a great President is long and well-documented.

But I want to focus on why gay men should vote Democratic in this election.

First, we have to understand what the role of the President is in our federal government. The Constitution provides that:

The executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his office during the term of four years * * *

Those powers include (formatting and edited added):

• Being the Commander in Chief of the Army and Navy and of state Militia;
• Requiring the Opinion, in writing, of the principal Officer in each of the executive Departments;
• Granting Reprieves and Pardons;
• Making Treaties;
• Nominating and appointing Ambassadors, Judges of the supreme Court, and others;
• Giving the State of the Union address — Recommending to their Consideration such Measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient;
• Convening and Adjourning both Houses;
• Receiving Ambassadors and other public Ministers;
• Taking Care that the Laws be faithfully executed; and
• Commissioning all the Officers of the United States.

Nowhere does the Constitution provide the power to the president that he apparently has if you give only a cursory reading to the news. The President's role in lawmaking is largely limited to the setting policy. The President cannot control oil prices, cannot enact laws (there are certain non-constitutional powers, provided for by Congress), cannot levy or repeal taxes...the list of what he cannot do is much longer than the list of what he can do. In so many ways, it seems that the office of the President is an impotent role.

Yet, it is clearly not.

What the president can do is set the tone for domestic policy and pull the strings of foreign policy. And how does that affect gay rights? President Obama has advanced the rights of gay people to the extent he can in so many ways:

• Eviscerated DOMA, to the extent possible.
• Eviscerated Don't ask, don't tell; which is now repealed.
• Came out in support of gay marriage.
• Supported the rights of women against those who would destroy them.

These are the ones that readily come to mind. For a more complete list see: eQualityGiving.org.

Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it. -George Santayana

To some degree, its all rhetoric. To some degree, that is the President's job.

Your, Bear

I'm not a Bad Person, I just Play One on the Internet

Yesterday was a bad day for skepticism. Twice, I tried to use my powers of critical thinking in light-hearted yet meaningful ways, and twice was shot down. Turns out, people don't like to have their cherished beliefs questioned. Who knew?

So, I'm talking two Facebook chats. I'll relay them here in brief.

A. Wherein I am unfriended by a chiropractor.

A local chiropractor posted a graphic depicting commonly used spices (garlic, cinnamon, ginger, turmeric, and cayenne), exclaiming "Five Cancer-fighting Species." Well, this graphic offends me on two bases: first, it is rife with logical errors (amazing how many can be packed into just nine words), and second, it may prevent someone who needs real medical intervention from receiving it.

So I commented that, "It is important to remember to continue medically prescribed treatments for cancer if they've been prescribed to you. There is little evidence that diet can prevent cancer, and no evidence that it can treat cancer." A pithy remark which addressed both of my concerns.

Not so pithy as to escape notice, though. The chiropractor promptly deleted my remark and unfriended me. Guess he's not into Facebook-style stealth debates. You can read my whining about it on the Sacramento Area Skeptics page.

B. Wherein I am accused of belittling religion.

Need image credit.

You may have heard: John B. Gurdon and Shinya Yamanaka won the 2012 Nobel Prize in Medicine for their work on pluripotent stem cells. Someone made an awesome graphic which boils down their work into a digestible web-bite. I'll reproduce it here.

What wonderful research. It has the potential to advance stem cell treatments without the ethical baggage surrounding the use of embryonic stem cells. No magical thinking is going to get you to that result!

So I'm keeping an admittedly cynical running tally of the benefits of science versus religion. By my unofficial count, this is checkmark 3x10^57 in favor of science. So my comment was: "Shinya Yamanaka. Congratulations! Score: Science 3x10^57, Religion 0." (Sorry Mr. Gurdon, and congratulations to you, too!)

A religious friend was, apparently, offended by my remark and accused me of belittling religion. When I asked him where in my remark I belittled religion, he really was unable to say. That's because I am not belittling religion. What I am doing is pointing out its limitations.

I've written elsewhere that I think religion may have a place in society akin to art or music. It can help us to think about our higher nature. In that way it may be useful. What it cannot do is solve life's problems. That's for science. And since science is under attack from believers, my point was both valid and, hopefully, thought provoking.

As Bill Nye says, pointing out the benefits of science is not attacking religion.

C. What's the big deal?

The big deal is that magical thinking can keep us from achieving our potential as society. I earnestly want us to solve global warming, live into the coming millennia, and make it off this rock to become a galactic species. This can happen. And if it does, there's only one way: science.

But on a quotidian level, the big deal is that relying on hocus pocus and prayer can actually harm you (read about the harm of herbal remedies and extremist religions). Now, to the extent you impose your beliefs on yourself, I have no problem with that. But when you start recommending that others give up critical thinking in favor of magical thinking, I'm gonna speak up.

I spoke up. I felt bad. I slept on it. I'm good with it.

Your, Bear.

To Catch a Lie

A concept which goes hand-in-hand with the nature of satisfactory evidence is the credibility of witnesses. How do you know when someone's perceptions are skewed? How do you know when they are biased? How do you know when they are lying? Its this last question I want to address here.

It is the rare case where someone, sometime is not lying. Everyone lies from time to time. For instance, I'm a inchoate bike mechanic. A few weeks back, I asked the tech at my local bike shop about work stands. He pointed them out, and I promptly searched for them on line, where I found one much cheaper. When I went in to buy other parts, he asked me about the work stand. I felt bad for going elsewhere, so told him, "oh, I just picked up a used one." Lie.

Had he inquired further, I would have had to make a choice: come up with a backstory about my lie ("Oh, I just searched Craig's List...") or tell the truth ("I couldn't help myself, Amazon's prices are 20% less than yours..."). And therein lies one secret to separate lies from truth. This is a secret I use — as does your average pulp-fiction detective — all the time in my practice: both with reticent clients and with adverse witnesses: every statement has a backstory.

As described in 1903 by Francis L. Wellman in The Art of Cross Examination:

No one can frequent our courts of justice for any length of time without finding himself aghast at the daily spectacle presented by seemingly honest and intelligent men and women who array themselves upon opposite sides of a case and testify under oath to what appear to be absolutely contradictory statements of fact. ... The inquiry is most germane to what has preceded, for unless the advocate comprehends something of the sources of the fallacies of testimony, it surely would become a hopeless task for him to try to illuminate them by his cross-examinations.

Cross-examination is the process by which an attorney questions the witness about his story — hopefully catching the witness in a lie (or possibly reinforcing his story with additional detail). There are many famous cross examinations. Here is one by our president, Abraham Lincoln defending an alleged murderer (follow link for additional detail):

By Mr. Lincoln:  Did you actually see the fight?
By Mr. Allen:  Yes.

Q:  And you stood very near to them?
A:  No, it was one-hundred fifty feet or more.

Q:  In the open field?
A:  No, in the timber.

Q:  What kind of timber?
A:  Beech timber.

Q:  Leaves on it are rather thick in August?
A:  It looks like it.

Q:  What time did all this take place?
A:  Eleven o'clock at night.

Q:  Did you have a candle there?
A:  No, what would I want a candle for?

Q:  How could you see from a distance of one-hundred fifty feet or more, without a candle, at eleven o'clock at night?
A:  The moon was shining real bright.

Q:  Full moon?
A:  Yes, a full moon.

Q:  [Consulting an almanac.] Does not the almanac say that on August 29th the moon was barely past the first quarter instead of being full?
A:  [No answer.]

Q:  Does not the almanac also say that the moon had disappeared by eleven o'clock?
A:  [No answer.]

Q:  Is it not a fact that it was too dark to see anything from so far away, let alone one-hundred fifty feet?
A:  [No answer.]

Verdict: not guilty. Mr. Allen may well have believed he witnessed the fight — but the facts tell otherwise.

Radiolab recently recorded a show on the very topic of lying: the Fact of the Matter. As always, this Radiolab episode is well written and well orchestrated. My main problem with Radiolab is that they never seem to ask the next question I would have asked and seem content to end the inquiry without the firm answer which is alluringly close — I suspect they do that on purpose (hey, I'm just asking? or maybe they want you to come to your own conclusions on less-than-complete information).

Anyway, in that episode, they interview a Hmong survivor about the genocide which the Laos government committed against the Hmong post-Vietnam. He claimed he saw the aftermath of a chemical attack (an alleged mycotoxin) and the destruction it brought. He also admitted that regular weapons were used to kill his people.

Radiolab is really only after the answer to one question: were the Hmong attacked with chemical weapons? The mycotoxin came in the form of a yellow liquid or powder, and caused the US government to accuse the Soviet government of chemical warfare (causing the US to stockpile chemical weapons). The powder turned out to be uncontaminated bee feces and it was revealed that the Laos government had no capacity to produce or spread such weapons.

During the interview, the witness became agitated when confronted with these facts. He stopped the interview and said, essentially: you're playing a semantic game, the important point is that the Hmong were massacred, what difference does it make that it was chemicals or bullets? (Radiolab got grief from listeners about being too harsh, and provided this thoughtful defense.)

As seekers of the truth, it matters a great deal. However, the interviewers, instead, considered whether there were multiple "truths" at issue (the lack of presence of mycotoxin and the emotional "truth" that the mechanism of death is unimportant) and left it up to the listener to decide how to resolve the conflict.

I think that was a copout by Radiolab. No, they did not need to force the witness into a confession that he was wrong about the chemical weapons. But, they did need to draw the reasonable inference without softening the blow. The reasonable inference under the facts is that the reprehensible acts of the Laos government could not have included the chemical weapons reported.

Sometimes catching a lie is uncomfortable. Sometimes the witness blames the interviewer. It is a true pain of this profession. Especially for someone like me who wishes to please everyone.

Your, Bear

Why am I a skeptic?

A recent conversation in a Facebook skeptic's group had me thinking: Why am I a skeptic? The conversation had to do with the label "organic" and whether organic produce is more healthful. The thread started with a post citing an article titled "No Health Benefits from Organic Food."

Because this topic has been rehashed repeatedly in many places and because the group was one dedicated to skepticism, I gave a snarky, off-the-cuff remark: "Sadly, 'organic' is another largely marketing term at which we must roll our eyes for the foreseeable future." There may well be agricultural benefits from the production of organic produce, but as the article indicates, there is no established health benefit from it.

Yet another member of the group has evident strong feelings that there are benefits to organic food production. He posted the result of another study advocating for organic produce and clings to the belief in its health benefits. That study did conclude that there may be an "average increase[] in life expectancy of 17 days for women and 25 days for men" from the consumption of organic food. Such a result is inconclusive for at least two reasons: Is it really possible for people to consume only organic food and if not, how does that affect this outcome? Over a 70 year life span (25,550 days) 25 days is only 0.1% of that time — is that enough to justify the expense?

Answering these questions and deciding to pay the premium for "organic" produce requires us to make a choice. That choice is necessarily guided by an imperfect understanding of the issues for most of us. I am not an expert in chemistry, agriculture, and nutrition. As such, I must rely on the data presented in common news sources and must make the best decision I can from that information.

Skepticism to me means being able to apply a toolkit of critical thinking skills to those common news sources. Applying those skills to the organic issue leads to more questions embodied by this scenario: Given two bags of rolled oats from the Whole Foods bulk bins, one organic and one not, can a consumer identify which is which? Will the consumer obtain more nutrition from the former? Will the consumer be harmed by the later? The answers to these questions are no, no, and no.

So in order for me to choose organic, the proponent is going to have to overcome a fundamental principle of skepticism:

Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. —Carl Sagan

This means the onus is the the claimant, not me, to make the case. Skepticism does not mean giving equal time to every argument about every issue. It means being able to select the issues and evaluate them critically.

And that is why I am a skeptic. I want to think I can be persuaded by fact and not emotion when it comes to important decisions about my life. Yet I don't want to be duped into spending my time, money, and attention on invaluable theories, products, and services. When it is proven that organic products are better, I will take up the mantra. Until them, I'm saving my cash.

God? Are you there?

A recent Facebook post got me thinking about atheism and why its a big deal. The Facebook post was one of those poignant graphics with a picture of a person, presumably the speaker, with text superimposed. The text read:

αθεοι ("those who are without god")

Often times when I meet an atheist and we talk about the god they don't believe in, we quickly discover that I don't believe in that god either. --Rob Bell

I don't know who Rob Bell is, but this comment bugs me for two reasons.

First, the implication is offensively presumptuous. Bell implies that atheists haven't thought the problem through. But the atheist places the burden on Bell. The atheist wants to know why Bell's god holds a special place. You can't tell from the quote, but the answer is either that its because of Bell's faith or because of some experience personal to him. Either way, he presents no independently verifiable proof. Instead, no conclusion about the existence of Bell's god can be drawn from checking one god of the list of those worth not believing in.

Second, the reverse implication should be made and Bell's own faith should be questioned. Its the reverse side of the same coin. If Bell can so readily dismiss other gods just because his faith does not encompass them, then others deserve the right to dismiss his god based on nothing more than opinion. Thus, Bell is not doing a very good job defending his faith which makes me wonder if he really believes in god at all.

The reverse of Bell's quotation is this:

I contend that we are both atheists. I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours. --Stephen Roberts

Bell's not really understanding why he's so dismissive of other gods, but must do so to maintain his belief system. And frankly, if he wants to blind himself in that way, I have no troubles with that. But when he starts to put his presumptions onto me, then I get to have a say. I say: atheists come out! We need some critical thinking and reason!

Evidence

William of Occam

Evidence is the set of tangible and intangible things used to support facts which will ultimately prove a point, such as:

• Documents created by parties for the purpose of later proving something,
• Video footage of an event,
• Audio recordings of a sound or conversation,
• Testimony of witnesses to an event,
• Opinion of an expert regarding something specialized, or 
• Opinion of an ordinary person about every day occurrences.

"Evidence" sort of has two meanings: in colloquial terms evidence means those things which someone points to in order to prove a point (however valid they may be), but really it means those things which actually prove that point. These two aspects are two sides of the same coin, and go hand-in-hand. In order to prove his or her point, a person will point to things and say, "see, the moon is made of cheese...and this is my evidence." If you accept those facts, then you're agreeing that what he's called evidence is evidence.

Because of this dichotomy, a credulous person can be duped by evidence proffered by a proponent merely because that person calls it evidence (the moon looks like cheese, thus it is). However, the questioning person will only accept evidence in its second sense: Does the proffered evidence really support the facts necessary to prove anything? (The speaker's never tasted regolith and cannot know.) 

How do you know whether the evidence proves a particular point? That depends largely on the point. For instance, consider these scenarios and which facts you would need to prove that the speaker is telling the truth:

1. A friend tells you that she is pregnant.
2. A friend tells you that your dog is pregnant.
3. A friend tells you that you are pregnant.
4. A friend tells you that her sister is pregnant by divine intervention.

Take a second to think about what you need to know in each situation to know that your friend is telling the truth.

Generally speaking, you'd need to know something about how pregnancy works. Using only your common sense, you can apply this to eliminate false propositions: Is the subject female? Is she fertile? Is she young enough to actually be pregnant? If the answer to any of these questions is "no," then your friend is probably lying or deceived.

If the answer to the common sense questions is "yes," other facts might be needed to convince you, depending on the situation.

1. Your Friend's Pregnancy.

Your friend's statement that she is pregnant may well suffice. Ultimately, its her own business and her pregnancy may not much affect your life. At that point you congratulate her and start planning her baby shower. No more is required.

2. Your Dog's Pregnancy.

Now you might be really interested. How did she come by this information? You might inquire whether she is a veterinarian or a breeder. Or perhaps she has personal knowledge: her male was seen breeding with your female dog. Or maybe her dog exhibited some similar symptoms which led her to this conclusion.

If she affirms that she has some specialized reason to know, you might be satisfied and take appropriate action depending whether you want a litter of adorable pups to care for. Thus, the standard of proof is a bit higher because the facts are more removed from your friend and more personal to you.

3. You are Pregnant.

Now, assuming you do not already have evidence that you are pregnant, you might be astonished and really interested to know why she thinks you are pregnant. You might apply further common sense, and argue with her: "No, I am not pregnant. I just had my period... or... I take the pill... or... its been a long time..." If she persists despite your protestation, you might politely change the subject.

However, if you have no independent reason to doubt her, you are unlikely to take her at her word, whatever evidence she presents —  your healthy glow, your protruding middle, your craving for chocolate covered eggplant slices — in the end, if she really piqued your curiosity, you'll take a pregnancy test. The result of that test will be the evidence you'll ultimately trust to know if you are, in fact, pregnant.

4. Divine Intervention in Pregnancy.

Religious beliefs aside, to satisfactorily prove that a friend was divinely impregnated will require some extraordinary evidence on your friend's part.

Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. --Carl Sagan

Knowing how pregnancy works, it is hard for me to imagine facts which would prove immaculate conception. Perhaps meeting the divine figure might suffice, but how would this godly figure manifest. If he manifested as a man, I'd believe that he impregnated her, just not that it was a miracle. You might make other assumptions, but the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.

Frustra fit per plura quod potest fieri per pauciora. [It is futile to do with more things that which can be done with fewer.] --William of Occam

If he manifested in some incorporeal form, I'd still be wondering what the mechanism for the pregnancy was. I'd have to question whether there was an exchange of male reproductive fluid, even without intercourse. Genetic tests could narrow the possible number of fathers, and could establish that a male partner did, in fact, contribute to the fertilization.

A physical examination of the woman would reveal whether insemination occurred. A cross-examination of the woman could reveal whether there were any periods during which she was blacked out -- or might force her to admit that she had had intercourse. --- Suffice it to say, that there are tests which can be performed to prove that the egg which formed her fetus was fertilized by a sperm cell. And until those tests are exhausted, few of us but the most credulous would buy the divine intervention argument.

Accept as evidence only that which provides a rational explanation of a claim. In law as in life, put up or shut up.

Your Bear.

Confidence

He who hesitates is a damned fool. Mae West

I wanted to write a few words about confidence. In life's endeavors, confidence is so critically important. Putting yourself out on a limb is what differentiates you from the crowd, what makes you interesting, but also what makes you vulnerable. Confidence is only required when you're at odds with someone. And in order to be confident, you have to risk being wrong.

Two things inspired this post. The first is that I recently filed an opposition to a motion, confident that I was right on a point of law -- but turned out to be wrong. The issue was the procedure for filing a certain motion in my local district court. I researched the issue. I asked other attorneys about the issue. I called the Court's clerk regarding the issue. I reviewed my prior filings on the issue. When I filed my papers I felt I was right.

But after I filed the paper, the opposing counsel said, simply, "If you had read the right rule, you'd have saved yourself a lot of work." The jerk didn't say what the "right rule" was, so I had to guess. When I guessed, I did about 5 seconds of research, and realized I was in error. GAH! So much for confidence. But on reading the rule more carefully, I knew I was not so wrong at all, though I cited the wrong rule. In fact, I have time to correct my mistake.

The second thing which inspired this post is the following quote recently posted on Facebook:

“The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence.” Charles Bukowski

As flippant as this sentiment is, it rings of some truth. Scientists have categorically shown the human activity is responsible for nearly irreversible climate change; yet the doubters are as vociferous as ever. Gay rights are popular and constitutional; yet the haters rally against them. Evolution is supported by incontrovertible evidence; yet intelligent design is institutionalized. (For more on evolution and climate change, please see (and support) the National Center for Science Education.) If only we could eliminate the dissenters, we could start to solve the problems! (I'm definitely going to write a blog post on dissent!)

Dissent is at the heart of our adversarial system of law and governance. To dissent, confidence is required. Proper dissent benefits both sides: without something to push against, the truth may never come out.

Let us be thankful for the fools; but for them the rest of us could not succeed. Mark Twain

But never let your dissent blind you to the evidence. (Evidence is another topic on which I plan to write.) When I did my research, there was a hole in it -- I was ignorant of path to the correct answer and relied on my limited knowledge. When I looked at the evidence (here in the form of the correct rule), I was able to correct my mistake. Such is the path of knowledge.

The moral of the story is: when you feel most confident, step back and consider who is the fool and who wise, but in the absence of evidence to the contrary, take the step and be prepared to learn and move on when proven wrong.

Your, Bear

Sweet Sixteen

Davey, Franco and Me, 2002

Yesterday was Davey and my anniversary. We met 16 years ago in Guerneville California, in a now-defunct resort called Fifes. It was the July 4th holiday weekend and the place was packed with hot guys. He was at the bar above the pool ordering a beer and I ordered a couple bottles of water. I asked him what everyone asks him: "What is your tattoo?" No doubt he forgot all about me and I didn't see him again that weekend.

Instead, about a week later, I saw him working out at the also-now-defunct Market Street Gym (now Gold's Gym in the Castro). I was shy because he was so hot -- working out with no shirt on, if I recall correctly -- but approached him anyway, "You don't remember me, but we met last week..." I asked him to dinner that Saturday, and we've been together pretty much ever since.

That was 1996, and I was 28 he was 31. Now its 16 years later! Time flies, so make sure you've made the right decisions. Carpe diem quam minimum credula postero. I love you Davey!

Your, Bear.

Coming Out!

In honor of July 4, our First President

I've been planning this blog post for a long time. This is the blog post where I explain why I quit my job and became a freelance attorney. This is the blog post where I explain what I am going to do with the rest of my life. But I'm 45, gay, and seriously unmotivated. So I don't have well-formed answers to those questions.

So instead, I'm going to make a list of what I'm good at and what I suck at (see the side bottom bar, once I find an extension that will allow it). The worst thing that can do it provide fodder for my updated blog. One of my commitments is to write an entry each week highlighting a topic of interest to me, be it law-related, skeptic-related, or gay-related (cycling related entries will be on Bear's ALC Page). I'll continue to do do this until I've figured out the answers to aforesaid questions. Perhaps that will be in 2013 or perhaps it will be in 2043 or perhaps I'll be dictating it to my descendants from the glass jar where my head is stored.

Along the way, I'll be adding entries on (in no particular order) the importance of digital authorship and social media, dilettantism, how very much more important leisure is than work, the importance of good health, my life-long battle with introversion, the rise and ultimate equality of gay people, the rise and ultimate predominance of liberal thought over conservative, and the nonexistence of God and where morals really come from.

I want to write a good bit on persuasive writing. As a persuasive writer, I know I'm in my infancy. However, that appears to be the general direction of my career. As such, I need to know more about it. So another of my commitments is to learn what others have said about persuasive writing and accept or reject their contentions, postulates, hypotheses, laws and corollaries.

I'll end this post with just a couple short list of facts about my career, to date:

1. I received a Bachelor of Science degree from San Francisco State University in 1998.
2. I worked a desultory 10 years as a software engineer.
3. I wanted an advanced degree, learned that law school was only three years, applied to schools, was accepted, and attended Golden Gate University School of Law from 2003 to 2006.
4. I obtained my J.D. in May 2006.
5. I studied as if I was not a committed dilettante and passed the California Bar Exam on the first try in June 2006 and was admitted to the bar in December 2006.
6. At the time, Davey and I owned a condo in San Francisco, and we were desperate for cash to keep it; I needed to take the first job I could find.
7. I accepted a job as Associate Attorney at Cook Brown, LLP in Sacramento and tried commuting for about a year -- that did not work and we moved to Sacramento a year later and subsequently sold the condo.
8. Selling the condo was a big mistake.
9. I worked at Cook Brown from 2007 to 2012. I learned a lot there. How to take a deposition. How to prepare for trial. How to write and read the law. And, possibly most importantly, conservatives are people too.
10. In 2012, I realized that I was in the wrong place and that as long as I stayed I was going to be miserable.
11. With only a modicum of planning, I left my job in May 2012, just prior to the AIDS Life/Cycle 11, a ride that may well have saved my life.
12. I am now accepting contract work from all comers and will begin to take my own cases as soon as possible.
13. Age, education, and proclivities aside, I still have not found that one thing to which I can commit my working life.

As always, I am open to suggestions.

Your, Bear.