Mills v. Wyman, an 1825 Massachusetts case, which is featured in one of the more popular first year casebooks, raises the question of the relationship between law and morality. Incurring various expenses, Daniel Mills cared for a 25 year old sick sailor, Levi Wyman, who then died. His father, Seth Wyman, wrote to Mills promising to pay for those expenses, but then reneged on the promise. Mills brought suit, but the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court affirmed a lower court holding that no action lay. Consideration is required to hold liable a promisor, and according to the court, Mills had given no consideration in return for Wyman’s promise; consideration could not consist of past action. Despite their respective holdings, the lower court had termed Wyman’s conduct “a strong example of particular injustice,” and the Supreme Judicial Court stated that Wyman had a “moral obligation” to fulfill the promise. But, to the court, a violation of a “moral duty” was not equivalent to a violation of a legal one. Continue reading
Here is a question that you will never get on a law school exam: “Please state the facts and holding of Smith v. Jones.” Since you will never get that question, why would you organize your outline in this form?
Smith v. Jones
Most law school exam questions consist of new, hypothetical fact patterns. Some of us pull those patterns out of the news and modify them to suit our purposes the way legal dramas on TV do, and some of us just think them up while showering. Either way, you will not have seen the precise fact-pattern before sitting down to the exam. As a result, the answer is not already in your notes, your outline, an outline created by one of your friends, or the outline sold to you by some publishing company that profits off exam anxiety while providing next to nothing in the way of useful analysis. A commercial outline in particular should be conceptualized as a security blanket. It may reassure you to know it’s there, but there is nothing substantively provided by it.
by Jennifer Howard, Supervising Attorney of the Domestic Violence Institute
“You don’t know what he is like to live with,” explains Maria to her friend Lucy. They had been discussing holiday decorations and Lucy commented how perfect Maria’s home had been decorated, apparently by Maria’s partner. Maria goes on to describe through tears a life controlled by her partner’s endless criticism, manipulation, and physical intimidation. Maria has taken a brave step disclosing this information to her friend. How can Lucy help?
by Professor Hope Lewis, who co-founded the Program on Human Rights and the Global Economy
It is now a standard observation: the legal academic, activist, and employment world is globalizing. U.S. Based law schools are partnering with schools in the Middle East, Africa, Latin America, and East Asia. LL.M. And S.J.D. Students from around the world have arrived in the U.S. To enrich classroom discussions and practice with their perspectives about the U.S. And about their home countries. Many well-prepared “domestic” lawyers will, at one time or the other, encounter clients, adversaries, partners, and issues that raise “global law” problems (i.e., International Comparative, Foreign, National Security, Immigration/Refugee/Asylum, Trade, Business Transactions, and the like). Many of our students and colleagues take advantage of our human rights program to engage in on-the-job learning in Switzerland, India, and Colombia. In addition to the wonderful opportunities for travel and exposure to other cultures, such opportunities offer the chance to hone language skills and to learn innovative problem-solving strategies. The “Bringing Human Rights Home” movement has once again stimulated U.S. Social justice activism on issues as broad-ranging as post-Katrina housing in New Orleans, misuse of force, racial discrimination, extrajudicial killings of young minority men, and violence and trafficking against girls and women with disabilities.
Late one afternoon, a few years into my legal career, I heard Partner X mention the “2400-hour years I worked as an associate….” He said this as he was assigning me and another associate a research and drafting project with a next-day deadline. I tossed off his “2400-hour” comment as hyperbole, but nevertheless, we stayed past midnight to finish the work. Not long after that, I happened to pull open a stuck drawer on the built-in file cabinet in my office, and behind the drawer was a sheaf of associate annual billing records from past years. (My office had previously been occupied by a member of the accounting staff.) Unable to resist, I scanned through the list of associates and the hours they had billed. Some of the names were unfamiliar, but others I recognized because they were now partners or “of counsel.” Sure enough, when I looked at the billings for (then) Associate X, there were several years at or just over 2400 hours. In my short career to that point, I had once billed a 200-hour month and it was excruciating. I could not imagine twelve of them in a row, and then repeat for several years.