Category Archives: Persuasion

Tips for concision: 7. Omit needless details

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Omit needless details

If a detail isn’t relevant or useful, omit it. In legal writing, needless details often appear as names and dates.

Larding a statement of facts with dates annoys some readers, including judges: “Most dates are clutter,” says Judge Mark Painter in his book The Legal Writer. And names can be clutter, too, if the people named aren’t important or won’t be mentioned again.

Using a specific name or date tells the reader it’s important; often it’s not. Here’s an example with a date and three full names:

  • On April 4, 2008, Isam Yasar alleged that his supervisor, Russell Dunagan, told him that if Yasar continued to complain, Dunagan would have to discipline and possibly terminate a fellow Muslim and Yasar’s co-worker, James Lira.

As you edit this sentence, think about the story you’re telling and the points you’ll argue. If April 4 isn’t important and won’t appear again, omit it. As for the names, let’s imagine that Isam Yasar and James Lira are important characters you’ll mention several times. Leave them alone. But let’s imagine that Russell Dunagan is not important, so you can call him the supervisor.

  • Isam Yasar alleged that his supervisor told him that if Yasar continued to complain, the supervisor would have to discipline and possibly terminate a fellow Muslim and Yasar’s co-worker, James Lira.

Same content, but now it’s down from 35 words to 30. Concision.

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Tips for Concision: 4. Cut throat-clearing phrases

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Cut throat-clearing phrases.

These are flabby sentence openers that try to manufacture emphasis but just postpone getting to the point. They look this this:

  • It is clear that . . . .
  • It is important to point out that . . . .
  • It would appear to be the case that . . . .
  • A key aspect of this case, which must not be overlooked, is . . . .
  • The Defendant would respectfully draw to the court’s attention that . . . .

And no, I didn’t make this up. Many writing guides advise against “throat-clearers.” Here’s a website.

Why avoid them? They’re “needless buildups” (Garner, The Elements of Legal Style); “merely space-fillers” (LeClercq, Legal Writing Style); and “convey little if any information” (Enquist & Oates, Just Writing).

Your writing will be more concise, and stronger, without them.

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Tips for Concision: 1. Don’t fear possessives

Don’t fear possessives.

Why do we write this way?

  • the vehicle of the defendant
  • the property of the seller
  • the intent of the testator

It’s probably just habit or imitating the sound of legal writing in our heads. But those five-word phrases could be shortened to three:

  • the defendant’s car
  • the seller’s property
  • the testator’s intent

Are some legal writers avoiding possessives out of a fear of making an apostrophe mistake? Or out of a sense that possessives are informal (like contractions, which also use apostrophes)? Probably not, but let’s be clear: Possessive forms are not informal. Use them to improve concision.

A few legal writers were taught that inanimate things cannot possess—that it’s wrong to write the book’s title, the nation’s capital, or the chair’s leg. Instead, we must write the title of the book, the capital of the nation, and the leg of the chair. If it sounds a bit odd to you, you’re right. There’s no such rule, and those who promoted this idea were misconstruing the grammatical term “possessive.” In fact, a better term for “possessive” is “genitive case,” which carries no connotation of ownership. See Merriam Webster’s Dictionary of English Usage 475 (1994).

Occasionally the of form is preferable; you’ll write sentences in which intent of the testator just fits better or conveys your intended meaning more clearly. So I’m not offering a rule or a universally mandated edit. Just one technique to improve concision.

More to come.

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Parallelism Basics

When you write a list or series, the elements should be in parallel form. If they’re not, you have “faulty parallelism.” For proper parallelism, here are the rules:

  1. Each element in the list or series flows naturally from the lead-in, and
  2. Each element in the list or series begins with the same part of speech (verb, preposition, noun, and so on).

Here’s an example:

a. A lawyer must disclose adverse authority that is known to him, arises from the controlling jurisdiction, and that was not disclosed by opposing counsel.

If we tabulate (put each element on its own line), we can easily identify faulty parallelism:

b. A lawyer must disclose adverse authority that
-is known to him,
-arises from the controlling jurisdiction, and
-that was not disclosed by opposing counsel.

Example b has flaws in both requirements. The third element doesn’t follow from the lead-in: that . . . is, that . . . arises, that . . . that. And the first words of each element aren’t the same part of speech: is and arises are verbs; that is a pronoun.

Consider two ways to fix it. First, you could repeat the lead-in word (that) each time:

c. A lawyer must disclose adverse authority that is known to him, that arises from the controlling jurisdiction, and that was not disclosed by opposing counsel.

It works, but it’s a little heavy on the use of that. Second, you could revise so each element begins with a verb:

d. A lawyer must disclose adverse authority that is known to him, arises from the controlling jurisdiction, and was not disclosed by opposing counsel.

Now the first word of each element fits the lead-in and all are the same part of speech. We have parallelism.

Whenever you write a list or series—typically with three or more elements—practice parallelism. It’s consistent and logical, of course, but it also reduces miscues and eases reading by creating balance and consistency. Opportunities for pleasing parallel structure are common in legal writing and can take many forms:

  1. A simple list: We can send the client an e-mail, a letter, or a memo.
  2. A series of phrases: Writers create emphasis by repetition, produce clarity with simple words, and enhance persuasion through clear organization.
  3. A series of clauses: The trial judge granted summary judgment, the appellate court affirmed it, and the Supreme Court reversed it.
  4. A numbered list, like the one you just read. (Note that each numbered item began the same way.)

Another form of basic parallelism that recurs in legal writing is the use of correlative expressions, also called correlative conjunctions. The most common are both/and, not only/but also, either/or, and neither/nor. In these pairs, A and B should be the same part of speech: both A and B, not only A but also B, either A or B, and neither A nor B. For example:

e. Many lawyers are not only smart but also think creatively.
f. Many lawyers are not only smart but also creative.

Example e isn’t parallel: not only smart (adjective) but also think (verb), and the faulty parallelism makes it clumsy. But example f is parallel, making it shorter and giving it force. Here’s one more example:

g. She testified that she made neither a withdrawal nor did she make a payment.
h. She testified that she made neither a withdrawal nor a payment.

Example g is faulty because what follows neither is an article and noun (a withdrawal) but what follows nor is a verb (did). Example h is parallel, producing a shorter and more forceful sentence.

Short and forceful, balanced and consistent—these are the rewards of parallel structure.

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Rhetoric: Three more techniques

In this post I add three more techniques to the three introduced in a previous post. Here I describe anaphora, epistrophe, and chiasmus, three techniques of classical rhetoric—the effective and persuasive use of language. You’ll likely recognize these techniques, and you might be using the first two already. My understanding of them comes from Ward Farnsworth, Classical English Rhetoric (2010).

Anaphora means repeating words at the beginnings of successive phrases or clauses.

Standard: There is no doubt who committed the crimes: Mitchell hid under the stairs, assaulted Ms. Latham, and stole her purse.

Anaphora: There is no doubt who committed the crimes: Mitchell hid under the stairs, Mitchell assaulted Ms. Latham, and Mitchell stole her purse. (Repeats the subject)

Another before-and-after example:

Standard: The Debtor repaid his wife, friends, and brother-in-law—but not the Bank.

Anaphora: The Debtor repaid his wife, repaid his friends, and repaid his brother-in-law—but he did not repay the Bank. (Repeats the verb)

Anaphora creates emphasis through what Farnsworth calls a “hammering effect.” Farnsworth at 16. The repeated words are likely to be noticed and remembered. Id. The repetition also creates expectations—the reader expects the pattern to be continued, so disrupting the pattern becomes an opportunity for emphasis. Id. For example, in the sentence about the Debtor, repeating the verb repaid sets up the expectation that it will continue, but then the verb changes to did not repay, emphasizing the contrast.

Epistrophe means repeating words at the end of successive phrases or clauses.

Standard: The defendant followed, stalked, and harassed Mr. Taylor.

Epistrophe: The defendant followed Mr. Taylor, stalked Mr. Taylor, and harassed Mr. Taylor. (Repeats the object)

Another before-and-after example:

Standard: Mitchell illegally purchased, modified, and sold the rifle.

Epistrophe: Mitchell’s purchasing the rifle was illegal, his modifying the rifle was illegal, and his selling the rifle was illegal. (Repeats the predicate)

Epistrophe also uses the hammering effect, but Farnsworth suggests it’s a bit more subtle because “the repetition does not become evident until each time a sentence or clause ends.” Id. at 32. Added to the hammering effect is the placement of the repeated words at the end—a natural place of emphasis: “The end is emphatic because it makes the last impression.” David Lambuth, The Golden Book on Writing 26 (1983). Thus, epistrophe adds hammering repetition to the emphasis that naturally falls on a concluding word or phrase.

Chiasmus means repeating words or phrases in reverse order. It’s also described as inverted parallelism or an ABBA pattern. A famous example: “Ask not what your country can do for you; ask what you can do for your country.” See Farnsworth at 97. The key words are country and you, repeated in this order: country-you-you-country.

Standard: It was the defendant who stalked Mr. Taylor, not the other way around.

Chiasmus: It was the defendant who stalked Mr. Taylor, not Mr. Taylor who stalked the defendant.

Another before-and-after example:

Standard: Although the Bank has negotiated in good faith with the Borrower, the Borrower has not reciprocated.

Chiasmus: Although the Bank has negotiated in good faith with the Borrower, the Borrower has not negotiated in good faith with the Bank.

Chiasmus, according to Farnsworth, “calls attention to itself.” Id. at 98. I agree. It’s a technique that might, in formal legal writing, come off as oratorical, pretentious, literary. And literary style isn’t always right for legal writing because legal writing isn’t always like literature. Legal writers should use chiasmus with caution: “You should write at most one or two in a document . . . .” Ethel G. Romm, A Chiasmus and Contrast Can Help You Win, 70 A.B.A.J. 158, 158 (1984).

Yet a simple chiasmus can be quite memorable:

State boundaries cannot extend beyond the national boundary. . . . That would mean Texas was not annexed to the U.S., but that the U.S. was annexed to Texas. Id.

 

Caution is appropriate for all rhetorical techniques, but I recommend adding these three to your persuasive-writing toolkit.

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