FRANK, Circuit Judge.
1. Plaintiff complains of this only, that the judge erred in that part of his charge, quoted above, concerning the burden of proof, when he spoke repeatedly of the jury’s “conviction.”
2. Courts and commentators have said that, in the ordinary civil suit, usually a judge commits reversible error if he instructs the jury that the plaintiff cannot recover unless he “convinces” them (or the like).
Such a charge, it is maintained, indicates something midway between a “preponderance” and “ber yond a reasonable doubt,” and should therefore be reserved for certain excep
tional sorts of civil cases where more than a “preponderance” is required.
It muy be that such nice verbal shadings possess no significance for jurymen. Indeed, no one can say with assurance that most jurors have anything like a clear understanding of the phrase “preponderance of the evidence”; and if those words tell jurors little, it is questionable whether “convince” means more to them.
“Preponderance” is but a long latinism for the short English words “weigh more.” Today, it is merely a metaphor; it suggests that, when the jury considers the evidence, it is as if the evidence were weighed on a scale. The metaphor reflects ideas dominant in a long distant past. For, once upon a time, centuries ago, this metaphor received an almost completely literal interpretation: each item of testimony was then assigned a quantitative value or specific weight.
(The antiquity of this idea appears from the way in which, outside the legal realm, words relating to weighing have been metaphorized into words relating to thought,
e. g.,
“deliberate,” “ponder,” “putative,” “impute,” and “examine.”)
The quantitative method of assaying evidence has long been abandoned. But the old idea recurrently attracts those who are hot for certainty: In the nineteenth century, Jeremy Bentham proposed that the courts use a sort of “thermometer of persuasion”;
and in the twentieth century, a similar fatuous notion has been solemnly put forward.
Fatuous it is, as Wigmore. has declared. “The truth is,” he wrote, “that no one has yet invented or discovered a mode of measurement for the intensity of human belief. Hence there can be yet no successful method of communicating intelligibly to a jury a sound method of self-analysis for one’s belief. If this truth be appreciated, courts will cease to trust any particular form of words as- necessary or decisive in the law for that purpose; for the Law cannot expect to do what Logic and Psychology have not yet done.”
Yet we still strive to guide juries with the metaphorical term “preponderance.” Attempting to explain it to jurors, trial judges speak of “weight” and “scales,” thus tending to impress on the twelve “lay gents” something which approximates the metaphor’s literal meaning: “The application of the phrase ‘preponderance of the evidence’ is apt to lead the judicial discussion .close to the danger line of the. fallacious quantitative or numerical theory of testimony.”
Of course, no one can speak (and most men cannot think)
minus metaphors,
even in the physical sciences or mathematics.
This fact goes largely unobserved because most of the metaphors in daily speech are of the “dead” or “dormant” or “fatigued” kind.
However, danger lurks in the literal use of a metaphor as if it were a complete statement of actual fact rather than a sort of analogy or “fiction”
(i. e.,
an “as if”).
Such literalism has subtle consequences that are the more dangerous just because the “fictional” character of the metaphor is not adequately recognized.
Sensing this danger lurking in
the phrase “preponderance of the evidence,” trial judges often wisely inform the jurors (as did the trial judge here) of the irrelevance of the mere “number of witnesses or the quantity of exhibits.”
Yet, in all likelihood, the pull of the “preponderance” metaphor in the direction of literalness does frequently puzzle jurors.
Recognizing the imponderable effects of “preponderance” on jurors, one may (to repeat) wonder whether it is true that “conviction” or “convinced” conveys something greater to their minds. Perhaps the judges at one time had a basis for the idea that it does. But today we lack any solid foundation for that idea. For alterations in word-fashions notoriously cause words to undergo changes of meaning.
Judges therefore seem rather naive when they confidently remark that they are “sufficiently in touch with affairs” to know the “meaning which the ordinary man on the street attributes to ordinary everyday English”,
or what particular words “convey * * * to the common mind.”
Tough language-barriers often exist between the man in the library or the judge and the man on the street (or on a bus or in the subway).
Judge Wanamaker, some 17 years ago, learned from a considerable number of former jurors that they had found “preponderance of the evidence” the most difficult legal term to understand.
Perhaps so-called “opinion research” can furnish, via polls, more illumination of popular responses to “preponderance” and “convince.”
The results of any such polls, however, should, as yet, be skeptically eyed;
and it may be doubted whether any poll will ever adequately reflect the attitude of the dozen chosen fact-triers in any particular law suit, especially as word-meanings often vary from social group to social group in the community.
“Lawyers,” said the literary critic John Mason Brown, recently, “are excused from the necessity of interesting their readers, and all too often — let’s face the evidence — they take advantage of this enviable exemption.” But a
judge, when charging a jury, has the duty not only of interesting his twelve listeners but of having them understand him as far as possible, particularly in that part of his charge dealing with the burden of proof.
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FRANK, Circuit Judge.
1. Plaintiff complains of this only, that the judge erred in that part of his charge, quoted above, concerning the burden of proof, when he spoke repeatedly of the jury’s “conviction.”
2. Courts and commentators have said that, in the ordinary civil suit, usually a judge commits reversible error if he instructs the jury that the plaintiff cannot recover unless he “convinces” them (or the like).
Such a charge, it is maintained, indicates something midway between a “preponderance” and “ber yond a reasonable doubt,” and should therefore be reserved for certain excep
tional sorts of civil cases where more than a “preponderance” is required.
It muy be that such nice verbal shadings possess no significance for jurymen. Indeed, no one can say with assurance that most jurors have anything like a clear understanding of the phrase “preponderance of the evidence”; and if those words tell jurors little, it is questionable whether “convince” means more to them.
“Preponderance” is but a long latinism for the short English words “weigh more.” Today, it is merely a metaphor; it suggests that, when the jury considers the evidence, it is as if the evidence were weighed on a scale. The metaphor reflects ideas dominant in a long distant past. For, once upon a time, centuries ago, this metaphor received an almost completely literal interpretation: each item of testimony was then assigned a quantitative value or specific weight.
(The antiquity of this idea appears from the way in which, outside the legal realm, words relating to weighing have been metaphorized into words relating to thought,
e. g.,
“deliberate,” “ponder,” “putative,” “impute,” and “examine.”)
The quantitative method of assaying evidence has long been abandoned. But the old idea recurrently attracts those who are hot for certainty: In the nineteenth century, Jeremy Bentham proposed that the courts use a sort of “thermometer of persuasion”;
and in the twentieth century, a similar fatuous notion has been solemnly put forward.
Fatuous it is, as Wigmore. has declared. “The truth is,” he wrote, “that no one has yet invented or discovered a mode of measurement for the intensity of human belief. Hence there can be yet no successful method of communicating intelligibly to a jury a sound method of self-analysis for one’s belief. If this truth be appreciated, courts will cease to trust any particular form of words as- necessary or decisive in the law for that purpose; for the Law cannot expect to do what Logic and Psychology have not yet done.”
Yet we still strive to guide juries with the metaphorical term “preponderance.” Attempting to explain it to jurors, trial judges speak of “weight” and “scales,” thus tending to impress on the twelve “lay gents” something which approximates the metaphor’s literal meaning: “The application of the phrase ‘preponderance of the evidence’ is apt to lead the judicial discussion .close to the danger line of the. fallacious quantitative or numerical theory of testimony.”
Of course, no one can speak (and most men cannot think)
minus metaphors,
even in the physical sciences or mathematics.
This fact goes largely unobserved because most of the metaphors in daily speech are of the “dead” or “dormant” or “fatigued” kind.
However, danger lurks in the literal use of a metaphor as if it were a complete statement of actual fact rather than a sort of analogy or “fiction”
(i. e.,
an “as if”).
Such literalism has subtle consequences that are the more dangerous just because the “fictional” character of the metaphor is not adequately recognized.
Sensing this danger lurking in
the phrase “preponderance of the evidence,” trial judges often wisely inform the jurors (as did the trial judge here) of the irrelevance of the mere “number of witnesses or the quantity of exhibits.”
Yet, in all likelihood, the pull of the “preponderance” metaphor in the direction of literalness does frequently puzzle jurors.
Recognizing the imponderable effects of “preponderance” on jurors, one may (to repeat) wonder whether it is true that “conviction” or “convinced” conveys something greater to their minds. Perhaps the judges at one time had a basis for the idea that it does. But today we lack any solid foundation for that idea. For alterations in word-fashions notoriously cause words to undergo changes of meaning.
Judges therefore seem rather naive when they confidently remark that they are “sufficiently in touch with affairs” to know the “meaning which the ordinary man on the street attributes to ordinary everyday English”,
or what particular words “convey * * * to the common mind.”
Tough language-barriers often exist between the man in the library or the judge and the man on the street (or on a bus or in the subway).
Judge Wanamaker, some 17 years ago, learned from a considerable number of former jurors that they had found “preponderance of the evidence” the most difficult legal term to understand.
Perhaps so-called “opinion research” can furnish, via polls, more illumination of popular responses to “preponderance” and “convince.”
The results of any such polls, however, should, as yet, be skeptically eyed;
and it may be doubted whether any poll will ever adequately reflect the attitude of the dozen chosen fact-triers in any particular law suit, especially as word-meanings often vary from social group to social group in the community.
“Lawyers,” said the literary critic John Mason Brown, recently, “are excused from the necessity of interesting their readers, and all too often — let’s face the evidence — they take advantage of this enviable exemption.” But a
judge, when charging a jury, has the duty not only of interesting his twelve listeners but of having them understand him as far as possible, particularly in that part of his charge dealing with the burden of proof.
So that the judges ought to make every practicable effort to discover what their words on that subject signify to most non-lawyers,
and then to revise jury-charges accordingly.
If not, they will be taking a dogmatic position
vis
á vis communications from judges to laymen which sagacious judges and lawyers reject with respect to communications between laymen. Corbin recently has published a masterful discussion of that topic
in which he reports the following: There exist no methods which will “infallibly lead to one correct understanding” of another’s words because in “reading each other’s words, men certainly .see as through a glass, darkly”; the trouble with the belief that words have “one true meaning” is that the phrase “one true meaning” lacks “one true meaning”; to “elucidate the meaning of the word ‘mean’ requires fourteen long columns of fine print in the Oxford ‘ Dictionary”; it “is the universal custom of mankind to speak elliptically and to assume the existence and the understanding of things not expressed in words”; it “may be unfortunate, but it is true, that men often use written and spoken words without having any clear notion of what they want to say.” Corbin’s report accords with what sagacious laymen have said of the same subject: “Our speech is a compromise between the ultimate in-communicability of one person with another and the conventional communication values attached to certain symbols.”
“Ambiguity, indefiniteness, vagueness and equivocation are ever with us. [We should] learn to curb the arrogance, the presumption, that we necessarily know what others are saying.”
“The greatest enemy of communication * * * is the illusion of it.”
It is idle, then, to hope that all language — legal language included- — can be made entirely ambiguity-proof,
and doubtful whether such an achievement
would be desirable.
But no matter what the difficulties may be of rendering many of the legal rules intelligible to the jury,
surely the most important part of the judge’s charge relative to the
facts
— i.
e.,
that of dealing with the burden of proof — ought to be so worded that the jurors can comprehend it. We ought not, therefore, forever base decisions on unverified assumptions about jurors’ comprehension of differences between “preponderance” and “conviction.”
Nevertheless, at least until such time as we have satisfactory returns from checks of popular reactions to the traditional formulas, we think we should adhere to the ruling that, in an ordinary civil suit, such as the instant case, words like “convince” and “conviction” should be shunned in a jury charge. But here, before the jury had retired, the judge had correctly charged that the burden was on the plaintiff to prove his case “by a preponderance of the evidence” ; and, although the language above criticized was also included, no exception was taken to the charge at that stage. We think that nothing thereafter occurring could have reasonably given the jury to understand that the correct instruction theretofore given was modified. However that may be, reading the charge as a whole, we think the instructions were legally sufficient and leave no room for a just inference that the verdict was legally defective.
Affirmed.