As a follow up to my previous post regarding my day of jury duty, this post will involve some free advice to attorneys. I rarely provide free advice, but my observations during my jury service warrant it. When the plaintiff’s attorney in the automobile accident case on which I was a prospective juror began to question me about my suitability as a juror in the case, the first question he asked me was whether I was critiquing his jury selection strategy. Both he and I knew the answer to his question was a resounding, “Yes, of course!”, however, I replied,

I recently had the privilege of being summoned to appear for jury duty in Broward County, Florida, where I have lived for almost 30 years. Unlike almost everyone I know, I was not dismayed, afraid, or angry to receive my jury summons. I was, in fact, somewhat happy about it, as well as hopeful that, while it was doubtful I would ever be selected for the jury, I would at least make it to the voir dire process that is part of every jury selection. I made it! I was Juror #4, seated in the jury box, on a civil

I have assisted attorneys in selecting juries since 1991. That’s a long time. I have been involved in hundreds of jury selections across the U.S.A., from Alaska to Florida. Never, until recently, have I witnessed a judge asking a large panel of potential jurors the following question: “Who wants to serve as a juror on this case?”. In every case except this one, the judges inquire about the potential jurors’ hardships, defined as something that would make it difficult or impossible to be a juror. Common hardships are: financial, including not being paid by one’s employer when someone is not

Well, here we are. It’s 2020. Lots of celebrations, talk about the new decade, and the roaring 20s. But, many of us think of it with the term “hindsight” attached, as in “hindsight is 20/20,” meaning that when looking backward, things that were once unclear become clear. Monday morning quarterbacking is related. If we see an outcome, sometimes we can see how, for better or worse, that outcome was reached. Hindsight is the opposite of foresight, which some people possess to greater degrees than others. Some people have tremendous foresight and can imagine, better than others, how things will turn

This post is prompted by a comment made by someone with whom we frequently work in our litigation consulting business. He remarked how he hoped clients would recognize the value of our work, and his work, and see it as an investment, not just another litigation expense or cost. As I explained to someone yesterday, someone who called to inquire about a “focus group,” I know the services we offer are expensive. There is no doubt about that, even though we know we are not as expensive as some of our competitors. (Nor are we as inexpensive as others. But

Melissa and I do our best to keep politics out of these posts, as well as our professional lives. So, this is the disclaimer, this post is not about specific politics, politicians, or even impeachment, though the topic arises from various political battles of the day. Unfortunately, I need to set the stage for my post with some political context. During the recent investigations related, mostly, to the President, leading up to and including the impeachment, there has been a narrative that attempts to conflate what he is accused of having done with what others are alleged to have done.

Much has been in the news lately about people blowing whistles on allegations of corruption and abuse. Without discussing these specific situations, I want to address the act of sounding an alarm, or blowing a whistle. I have written something on this previously, but it warrants revisiting. I will start by saying that, if you haven’t been there, you may not comprehend this, but, I’ve been there. I’ve been a whistleblower. In fact, both Melissa and I have been there. And, taking a stand against what we saw as fraudulent acts by our then employer has had long term costs

In the almost 30 years David and I have owned and operated Magnus Research Consultants, we have been privileged to work on several high profile pro bono cases. Pro bono means “for the public good” and it is usually performed by attorneys for free, that is, at no cost to their clients. Many lawyers are committed to working on pro bono cases; in fact, large law firms often have a pro bono practice in which several attorneys work on behalf of their clients. Magnus has been involved in some horrifying pro bono cases, including mentally ill prisoners who were abused;

I recently read an article about a “brand new, state of the art jury selection program to bring data science to jury selection.” That is not a direct quote, but a synopsis of the news story I read about the program. (Disclaimer: I don’t really know anything about this program other than what was in the news and on the firm’s website.) This particular program is available only to plaintiffs’ lawyers so I will not address it specifically, but rather, the concept that something like this is often seen as a magic bullet. Despite the claim in the article, this

Many people, including mock jurors and other research participants, courthouse personnel, friends, and attorneys, ask me if I am an attorney. Invariably, when this happens, I am wearing a dark, conservative business suit, the attire preferred by many attorneys with whom I am acquainted. I always answer, “No, I am not an attorney. I am a psychologist.” This answer often leads to a series of follow up questions, none of which are the subject of this post. Instead, this post is about why I like spending time with attorneys, including why I have chosen a career that involves spending time