Socratic Method: The Good, The Extraordinary, & The Pointless

By now, halfway through my 3L year (114 days to graduation!), I've had a lot of different professors. I've had some of the profs whose names are on your textbooks, and some who are still wet behind the ears, and some who are in between, plugging away and hoping to become a Big Name one day. They all have their own styles, but all of them use the Socratic Method. (For my non-law school real people readers: Socratic Method is the professor asking you questions instead of just lecturing for the whole class.)

The Socratic method has been on my mind lately, so it was interesting to read Mel's post about the new prof. Socratic method comes in infinite varieties, and it sounds as though her new prof employs the pointless method.

A prof using the pointless method will ask you details of the case. Not details that might point you in the direction of key knowledge--such as why is the party called a libellant--but pointless details. Who was the judge? How much did the Plaintiff want? What was the name of the cow? For these professors you learn to read cases not for law, not even for argument, but only for the nitpicky little details you're sure to get tripped up on in class. These professors aren't teaching, they're playing gotcha.

Happily, I've had no profs who've used the pointless method in its purest forms, though some have certainly veered into this territory.

Most profs here use some generally good variety of the Socratic method. They might ask you what the dissent's argument was (ho hum), or to distinguish this case from another (slightly better), or to fit a tricky case on a spectrum of doctrine. They'll sometimes ask pretty fact-based questions, but at least ones that are more relevant to the result or the reasoning. On their better days you'll have to think a bit before answering.

Fortunately, at my school most of the profs are in the upper range of the good category. They ask somewhat interesting and somewhat difficult questions, requiring at least a modicum of thought and sometimes quite a bit more. And they are universally extremely kind in their reactions to your answers, most often taking what you say (blather) and magically transforming it into an on-point answer.

But the rare, extremely rare, brilliant professor will use the extraordinary Socratic method. You are never asked for the facts of the case. You are never asked for the reasoning of a case, or a rule of law, or worst of all, how a certain judge would have decided a case. Instead, you're asked a question that makes you close your book, sit back in your chair, and summon up all you've learned and all your insight and--and hope for a dash of divine inspiration. And you have the same reaction no matter who he calls on, because the questions are always both hard and fascinating, taking you to a level of the law that far removed from the procedural posture of the case you just read--and for more important on a practical level. It takes a professor who thinks fast on his feet, who knows the law inside and out, who's confident in his ability to answer anything the students throw at him.

Comments

[E. McPan]

So far, the only things my students have thrown at me are tomatoes (figuratively). And I hate tomatoes! Nearly as much as bananas...

[Beanie]

Socratic method has its place, but not at work. My boss has a thing for it, which is really awful when all you need is a question answered, and instead you're put through a journey of discovery.