The Lingering Impact of Misinformation

 

In trial – or even at deposition – it’s often tempting to dismiss an aspect of opposing counsel’s theory as insignificant, or too “out there” for jurors to adopt, and therefore offer little in the way of an alternative theory. This is not a wise choice.

Results of a study published in Scientific American show how despite the correction of misinformation, people tend to retain misinformation. Subjects in the study were told first that an accident involved a busload of elderly individuals. One group of subjects was told that was incorrect, but not given an alternative version of who was on the bus. Another group was told that the accident actually involved a college hockey team. 

The group given an alternate version (“hockey team”) was less susceptible to responding with the original “misinformed” version (“elderly individuals”), yet even they agreed with certain statements such as “the passengers found it difficult to exit the bus because they were frail.” How can this be? Shouldn’t logic prevail? 

One wishes. Unfortunately, misinformation tends to linger in memory following the rule of precedence: what’s learned first tends to stick with us longer. So it is critical that you counter any theory, or expert witness testimony, or other evidence that you consider “misinformation,” boldly and with as much visual assistance (graphics, video, PowerPoint slides) as you can. Make sure that what sticks in memory is your interpretation of the case, not opposing counsel’s.

A Simple Technique to Help Jurors Discredit a Lay Witness

When you’ve had a hand in making a decision, you’re that much more likely to go along with it. Jurors are no different. Questions in cross-examination that allow jurors to arrive at the unmistakable, inescapable, conclusion you want them to, are far more effective than ramming the conclusion down their throats or risking a sympathetic answer from opposing counsel’s witness.

For example: The lawyer is cross-examining a lay witness at the scene of a bus-pedestrian accident. The lawyer represents the pedestrian.

Question: Ms. Smith, did you see the bus as it came towards the intersection of First and Main shortly before the accident?

Answer: Yes, I did.

Question:  Could you tell us what the color of the light was for the bus as it came down First?

Answer: It was green, a green light.

Question: Really? But isn’t it true that when you spoke to the police officer shortly after the accident you said the light was red?

Answer: Oh, well, I’m sorry, I was a little nervous. I’m sure the police officer report is right.

The jurors may very well believe the witness, since she’s being humble and apologetic and who wouldn’t be nervous after witnessing an accident? The lawyer meanwhile has lost the opportunity to show the jurors that the case isn’t as cut and dried as defense would have them believe.

A more effective way to approach this might be:

Question:  Could you tell us what the color the light was for the bus as it came down First?

Answer: It was green, a green light.

Question: Ms. Smith, did you talk with a police officer right there at the scene, just after the accident?

Answer: Yes, I did.

Question: And did that police officer ask you what color the light was for the bus as it came down First?

Answer: Yes, I think he did.

Rather than pounce on the witness at this point and give her the opportunity to sympathetically correct herself, the lawyer could produce the police report and show (visuals work!) the portion where Ms. Smith unequivocally said “The light was red,” and simply end his cross on that note.

The jurors can now come to their own conclusion that Ms. Smith is, for whatever reason, being less than truthful, and are now much more likely to accept the police report as stated, which was exactly what the lawyer wanted them to do.

The Jury-Swaying Power of “Little” Words

You’d think a little word like “a” or “the” wouldn’t have any importance, when you’re crafting your opening or your closing. And yet . . .”a” and “the” are powerful ways to focus the jurors’ attention where you want it. Not where the jurors’ attention will roam, left to its own devices.

“A” refers generically to an undefined object. “The” refers specifically to a defined object. “Did you see a man with a limp?” does not focus the jurors’ attention in the same way as “Did you see the man with the limp?” does. The use of “the” presupposes that the man exists, the limp exists, and thus that the only thing in question is whether or not the witness saw the man. People will search their memories more assiduously given the subconscious message that the man with the limp exists, than they would if asked whether they saw “a man” with “a limp” – which contains no such subconscious assumption.

Similarly, notice the differential impact of such words as “frequently,” “occasionally,” “sometimes” and “often.” Studies have shown that when people were asked if they had headaches “frequently,” they answered, on average, “2.2 headaches per week.” Whereas if asked if they had headaches “occasionally,” they answered, on average, “0.7 headaches per week.” Such is the power of “little” words! Use them wisely.