TO-WIT: THE BALANCE OF POWER
by S. Sponte, Esq.
When she first called me to take this landlord/tenant case, I told her no. I always tell her no but she never believes me. Our bar association’s pro bono coordinator is so highly regarded for her devotion to her work and the way she cares about the plight of the bereft, the downtrodden, the disadvantaged, that most of my colleagues are simply unable to resist her heartfelt supplications for volunteers. I can but then she promises me cookies.
If I still resist, she tells me the tenants are lovely folk, salt of the earth who’ve recently been peppered by bad luck, and she tells me that the landlords are mean and cheap and that they kick puppies. Then she pushes me up onto the donkey, puts a lance in my hand and shouts “Oooooh, look, windmills!.”
Despite her endeavors, it was fantasies neither cookie nor Quixotic that made this matter my latest case accompli, no. Rather it was something far more primitive than that. Usually in these cases the tenant, for want of a dollar, has free counsel and the landlord, for want of the willingness to part with one, has none. When the complex economic and social dynamics of modern society combine to impoverish the haves and empower the have nots, I always sign up. I thank my father for my empathies in this regard and every time I do such a case I can’t help but feel I’m paying homage to his memory.
Personal crusades aside, I’ve always found litigation to be far more productive and enjoyable when the other side is unrepresented. Yes, it is somewhat akin to the fun of taking candy from a baby, but lest you think that a sad commentary on lawyering, may I remind you that the one thing we as a society don’t need is more fat babies.
“Make up a new file,” I told my secretary, “Bastards v. Jones.”
“Who do we represent,” she replied with the jocular insouciance of a women who’s worked for me for way too long.
The Magistrate’s hearing might have turned out better had not the magistrate been so hell bent on fairness. But the landlord would now have to take an appeal and would be obliged to engage and pay counsel to do it. The balance of power would shift even more dramatically towards my client, leaving only him untethered to costs. His avowed determination to litigate his claim all the way to the Supreme Court now however seemed much more perilous to me.
Shortly thereafter, a local colleague called to advise that he was now representing Landlord. Before I could fire off a warning salvo by telling him I was pro bono, he fired a broadside of his own.
“I know you’re pro bono on this,” he said, “but so am I. Landlord’s wife is my first cousin.”
There was clearly a mournful tone to his usually cheery voice and I knew at once we both assessed the situation exactly the same. A landlord/tenant case with pro bono lawyers on both sides? World War II took less time. We settled the case in three minutes, each client getting less than they wanted but way more than they deserved.
Years ago I had a professional mentor who always cautioned against taking a case with an unrepresented litigant. “In the long run,” he used to say, “you’re in for a long run.”
Now that I think about it, perhaps he was right. Without the proper balance of power, maybe no case is worth taking. Maybe, just maybe, there aren’t that many cookies in the whole wide world.
© 2009, S. Sponte, Esq.