47 pages • 1 hour read
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The legal system is ostensibly a tool for delivering justice. However, A Civil Action suggests that the fragility of the system is inescapable once one sees the machinations that comprise a case that goes to trial. There is no such thing as perfect justice. Rather, justice depends on the disposition of the plaintiff, the experience and temperament of the ruling judge, the histories and attention spans of the jurors and lawyers, and innumerable other factors. By the end of the case, there are aspects of the outcome that, though they may look like justice, have come about haphazardly or by accident. Moreover, regardless of the outcome, people define justice in different ways. A lawyer may feel that justice has been served after winning a case, while a grieving parent may not.
A Civil Action considers the ramifications of all these concerns. It presents the legal process as a bureaucratic chess match in which technicalities, strategies, and ways of shifting the jury’s focus count for more than the case’s facts or the human lives involved. For example, in Chapter 6 when Richard Aufiero is deposed by counsel from Grace and Beatrice, Facher tries to play up Aufiero’s questionable past and downplay the tragedy of his son’s story. Richard must answer any questions he is asked, which makes him nervous; 15 years earlier, Richard had an addiction to drugs. Once, during an argument with his wife, Lauren, he pushed her, resulting in a cut that had to be treated at a hospital. When Facher begins the questioning, he mentions the drug use but moves on quickly. He asks Richard about Jarrod’s death, including whether he knew that salmonella had been listed as the immediate cause of death and why there had been an autopsy. Richard says more than once that Jarrod died of leukemia and that it had been sudden. He’s angry and heartbroken, and he knows that the defense might use his history against him to distort the facts of the case.
What actually happens reveals a different weakness in the justice system. After listening to Richard, Facher is disturbed. Given the authenticity of Richard’s emotion, he feels this may not be a case he can win in front of a jury. He decides that his best chance is to make sure that plaintiffs never take the witness stand. This strategy of making the jury rule on the scientific and medical data before getting the chance to hear the plaintiffs’ personal stories is tactically sound, and it works: The overwhelmed jury rules in favor of Beatrice, even though it becomes clear later that some of the data was flawed. The question of whether it is a problem or simply a feature of the justice system that allows lawyers and judges to decenter the people who have suffered injustice is one A Civil Action poses but does not answer.
The question of the inherent value of life is at the heart of A Civil Action. In a literal sense, it is what is being debated in all of the settlement talks. Trying to determine a figure means trying to put an actual number on the matter—to determine how much, in dollars, a company should have to pay when an individual dies because of that company’s actions.
Part of what makes this question so fraught is the company’s flagrant disregard for human life. For W.R. Grace and Beatrice Foods, the question is entirely monetary: Exposing humans to harmful chemicals is “worth it” as long as the profits of doing so outweigh the costs—that is, if the companies pay out less than they earned by violating safety standards. There is thus an irony inherent to suits brought against the companies. In demanding compensation, plaintiffs tacitly agree to the companies’ framing that a human life can be measured monetarily. This is the source of much friction between Schlichtmann and those he represents, as the families of those sickened by corporate actions generally do not care about receiving large payouts or, indeed, any money without a guilty verdict. Their unspoken stance is that no amount of money could ever equal the value of their loved ones’ lives.
A Civil Action also considers the question in more abstract terms, exploring what it is that makes a human life worthwhile. This question is particularly pertinent to the lawyers who devote years of their lives to the Woburn case. Near the end of the book, Schlichtmann asks himself if it is possible to know if one has wasted one’s life. Facher has a tangential observation when confronted by a massive stack of papers: what it means to commit one’s precious time to filing endless motions for dismissal. The lawyers all commit to the case at the expense of their families. Some of their spouses eventually divorce them as a result of their commitment to the case. Others lose nearly all of their assets. Even for one sure they are on the side of justice, such costs can cause disillusionment, particularly given the case’s ambivalent outcome. At the end of the book, Schlichtmann leaves the profession and becomes something like a vagrant in Hawaii, having ultimately decided that there is more value in that than in what he was doing.
A Civil Action is as much the story of Jan Schlichtmann as it is the story of the Woburn case. This is no accident, as Schlichtmann becomes unusually personally invested in the work, making his life and the course of the investigation and trial closely interconnected. This obsession with the case has a detrimental impact on Schlichtmann’s life, highlighting the dangers of even the most seemingly righteous single-minded pursuit.
Schlichtmann is the most obsessive of all the characters in the story with respect to the Woburn case. Even the families, bereaved and determined to have justice done, are not consumed by the case in the same way Schlichtmann is. It literally becomes the only thing he can think about, whether he is on a beach in Puerto Rico, having drinks with a friend, or trying to sleep in the dead of night. He starts to feel as if he must win, and this feeling doesn’t seem to have anything to do with justice or money. At times, he does not even understand his own motivations. By the end of the book, everyone is fed up with him, having had their lives altered because of his inability to let the Woburn case go.
Harr suggests that the legal profession, given its demands on time and effort, rewards this trait. One of Schlichtmann’s first legal victories was a wrongful death suit against a construction company; by refusing the company’s proposed settlement, Schlichtmann was able not only to win more money for his client but also to establish a name for himself. In other words, his tenacity paid off, establishing a precedent for his later career. A tendency toward obsessiveness is particularly useful in cases like Anderson v. Cryovac. At one point, for example, Schlichtmann drafts a 52-page list of questions about Woburn’s conduct. Knowledge of the law alone would not have allowed Schlichtmann to compile this list; rather, cases involving environmental contamination and public health require that lawyers extensively familiarize themselves with the science involved. There is thus a deep irony when Schlichtmann is found guilty of violating Rule 11, which forbids frivolous lawsuits. Given the time and effort involved, Schlichtmann’s actions are anything but “frivolous.”
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