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PROCEEDINGS OF THE 1993 SCIENCE FICTION RESEARCH ASSOCIATION CONFERENCE Milton T. Wolff amd Daryl F. Mallett, Editors (San Bernardino, Cal., SFRA Press, 1995) reprinted by permission SFRA Press PERRY MASON IN SPACE: A CALL FOR MORE INVENTIVE LAWYERS IN TELEVISION SCIENCE FICTION SERIES by Paul Joseph and Sharon Carton television is that it allows us to "try on" possible futures. Through it, we can explore our happiest dreams and our scariest nightmares. There are no limits to our speculations. From technology to social mores, everything is "up for grabs." In many ways, these shows fulfill their promise. Energy weapons, matter creation and replication, sentient androids, and alien species populate their episodes. Yet, when a lawyer is shown, all too often he or she is no more than a clone of his or her twentieth- century American counterpart. Lawyers on television science fiction shows are little more than Perry Masons in space. We have selected three episodes from popular television science fiction series to illustrate our point. They are the original Star Trek, Battlestar Galactica, and Star Trek: The Next Generation. Captain James T. Kirk f aces a General Court Martial for the negligent killing of crewman Ben Finney. It is alleged that Kirk improperly cut loose a pod with Finney on board, an action not required unless the ship faced imminent peril. Computer records indicate, contrary to Kirk's story, that the pod was released while the ship was still on "yellow alert" rather than "red alert," which would have indicated such immediate danger. The trial pictured is very much like one which might take place in the twentieth century. There are judges (four in this case), lawyers, witnesses, and exhibits, examination and cross- examination, motions, etc. There is even a court clerk, and the computer is acting as court reporter. Two lawyers are presented: the prosecutor Areel Shaw -- an old friend and old flame of Kirk's -- prosecutes; and crotchety throwback Samuel T. Cogley -- who hates computers, loves lawbooks, and is wont to quote the code of Hammarabi as precedent -- defends. With the exception of the prosecutor's emotional conflict and the defense counsel's personal eccentricities, there is not much to distinguish them from the lawyers of today. Each is a pure advocate for his or her client or side, acting within a pure adversary system. Witnesses are grilled in an attempt to trip them up or to elicit a damning statement. While there are a few differences in the court procedure1 (the defendant testifies primarily in narrative form and both sides finish their cases in chief before either side "rests"), these differences are minor and do not significantly affect the portrayal of the lawyers. Dress them in business suits, and they would serve passably on any number of shows set in the twentieth century in which a trial scene is needed. on the Rising Star on the Rising Star," Lieutenant Starbuck is charged with the murder of a man named Ortega. For many years, the two had been rivals in love, life, and sports, and in a particularly violent game of Triad, Starbuck is heard threatening to kill Ortega. Starbuck is put on trial before a panel led by Commander Adama. Starbuck is entitled to a defender known as a "Protector." Finding synonyms for current legal terms seems to be the extent of the show's creative spin on f uture lawyers. When evidence against Starbuck begins to mount, we are introduced to the "Chief Opposer," Solon, who steps in to monitor the "laseronic scan" test to determine if Starbuck's weapon -- which Starbuck claims had been fired only in target practice -- was the "termination" weapon. When the test proves positive, the Chief Opposer charges Starbuck with the termination of Ortega. Starbuck vehemently protests his innocence, but Adama states that the Opposer can only proceed "on the basis of the evidence presently available." Starbuck enters a plea of "Not Guilty," rejecting an offer of a plea of self- defense. Captain Apollo requests of Adama the right to be Starbuck's Protector. Adama questions the decision. Although Apollo "studied the codes" at the Academy, he graduated a warrior, not a Protector. Apollo replies that he believes in Starbuck, and Adama grants the request. Adama states that the tribunal must convene in ten "centars,"3 and Apollo, aided by friend Lieutenant Boomer, begins his investigation. In a fleet broadcast, the Chief Opposer derides Apollo's skill, arguing to an interviewer that an experienced Protector would have convinced his client to plead self-defense. The Opposer maintains that Starbuck's only chance is his close relationship with Commander Adama, but that even Adama will be convinced by the evidence against Starbuck. Apollo requests an extension, but Adama refuses, saying the law is unequivocal. Apollo races against time to save Starbuck and when the tribunal convenes and Boomer steps in as Protector-pro-tem: there is no "protest" or objection from the Opposer. The tribunal proceeds much like any trial, with many of the same procedures. and slight variations in the terminology: "I protest!" "Upheld." The ending is lifted directly from Perry Mason, which featured weekly confessions saving Perry's clients from certain conviction. In Galactica, the Defense ends up depending on a communications transmission from a shuttle, where Apollo was wresting a confession from Ortega's real killer. As in Star Trek, lawyers in the Galactica world don't seem to have evolved along with technology. This is perhaps more understandable in Galactica, which appears to take place in our near future, not the twenty-fourth century. The society nearly destroyed by the Cylons is no more enlightened than our own, notwithstanding the advanced technology. The society in microcosm that flees the Cylons is one under martial law, and lawyers seem to have much the same role and function as on present-day Earth. It is an eerily recognizable adversarial system with one lawyer as prosecutor and another as champion. The implied norm is professional; trained attorneys fulfilling those positions and Apollo's taking on the job as Protector is an aberration. Thus, while the series could be admired for its entertainment value, it sadly missed an opportunity to envision any futuristic variant on the nature of law or lawyers. Measure of a Man highly-developed, original, and inventive legal system based on the informality and mutual assumptions of good faith which are central to the show's vision of an evolved human species. We have acknowledged how impressed we are with their treatment of legal issues in an article published recently in The Toledo Law Review.4 Yet, it must also be noted that lawyers, as such, are almost never shown. Almost all legal issues are resolved using ships' officers in the role of advocate. In one of the best Next Generation episodes, "The Measure of a Man," written by attorney Melinda Snodgrass, the central question is whether the Enterprise's android officer, Data, is a being with rights or merely the property of Starfleet. This episode presents a lawyer who is clearly identified as such. She is Captain Phillipa Louvois, who is "in charge of the Sector Twenty-three JAG (Judge Advocate General's] office."5 While she is an interesting and compelling character, she is depicted very much like a lawyer of our day. It is not a flattering picture, and it is not entirely consistent with the rest of the Next Generation milieu. Louvois is portrayed as confrontational, antagonistic, and formalistic. Picard's judgment of her is that she has "always enjoyed the adversarial process more than arriving at the truth."6 His judgment is confirmed when we observe the relish with which she pushes the unwilling Commander Riker to act as Datal's "prosecutor," threatening to "rule summarily" against Data should Riker refuse.7 We are left to wonder how it is that the conduct and attitude of the lawyer has changed so little in a culture which, in other ways, has changed so much. is, too often, little more than a clone of the American lawyer in the twentieth century. We call for a more inventive portrayal of lawyers in television science fiction series. But how to create such lawyers? It is to this issue which we now turn. The key to constructing more interesting lawyers in a television science fiction series is to realize that law does not exist apart from the legal system, and that the legal system is an outgrowth of the culture of which it is a part. Lawyers are the expert guides through the dispute resolution process of a culture. Thus, the role of the lawyer and the legal system itself should be logical and organic extensions of the society shown in the series. As we said in our Toledo article: We assume that there is some relationThus, it should be understood that the portrayal of the lawyer in a particular television science fiction series should be based on and be consistent with the more general features of the series setting. It should not be assumed that a different culture with a different history would somehow produce a legal system and lawyers which mirror our own. In fact, the presumption should be that it would not. This general framework can be made more concrete by providing a few examples. We have chosen to consider how lawyers might be portrayed in the Next Generation setting because it is the best-developed of the contemporary television environments, and because it is one likely to be familiar to most people who are interested in science fiction television programs. Of course, we do not argue that the picture of the lawyer we present is the only possible one which would be consistent with Star Trek's twenty-fourth century. What is offered here is merely one consistent, and therefore legitimate, approach. twenty-fourth century that people have evolved. They are not perfect, but they are nicer, more cooperative, and without most of the petty vices which often plague twentieth-century people. While The Next Generation has been criticized at times for this feature (because it reduces the dramatic conflict between its principal characters), there can be no doubt that it is a defining characteristic of the show. Another interesting aspect of the show is the recognition of the importance of psychological well-being to a stable and healthy group. In this regard, we could point to the presence on the Enterprise of families; to the lounge, Ten-Forward; and its expert empathetic listener, Guinan; and most particularly to Deanna Troi, the "Ship's Counselor," whose presence on the Bridge when command decisions are to be made is thought to be essential. While Troi treats patients, she is also a key part of the senior command staff and her place is on the Bridge, not merely in her office. Consistent with the Star Trek setting, might not these two strands be blended to produce the "Counselor at Law," a professional skilled in the law, but also in psychology and human dynamics, who sees his or her task as bringing about a fair and just solution to a problem, rather than merely obtaining the legal results requested by the client? Rather than being a "hired gun" in an adversary system, as twentieth-century lawyers are often depicted, such a "Counselor at Law" would be expected to help his or her client explore the client's situation in both the legal and psychological aspects. Such a person would help the client give up irrational or evilly motivated positions until the client was able to adopt a posture which was not only legally defensible, but morally, ethically, and psychologically right. Only after this phase would the "Counselor at Law" approach the other side, enter into similar negotiations, and work toward a reasonable solution to the problem. Presumably, the adversary would, in most cases, be engaged in a similar process with his own "Counselor at Law." Thus, such a "Counselor at Law" would blend the legal with the therapeutic response to conflict. At first blush, it might seem absurd that a lawyer would act this way, but that may be because some are unable to see beyond our twentieth-century adversarial system. Star Trek's twenty-fourth century is very different from ours. As our earlier writing has shown, their legal system is also very different -- marked by informality, mutual good faith, and the desire to settle disputes rightly -- not merely to one's own advantage. Within such a system, it would be our modern lawyers who would be out of step, not the "Counselor at Law" which we outline here. A Michael Kuzak or a Perry Mason would have no place in Star Trek's time and ought not to anachronistically show up there. In our world, the idea that a lawyer might refuse to further the interest which the client identifies as his own may seem unusual, but in a culture which understands that "legal" disputes may be motivated, at least in part, by psychological factors, and which has structured its legal system to eliminate pure self-interest in favor of fair outcomes, it would not be surprising to find a lawyer acting in this way. In our own century, we understand that other helping professions are more than mere "hired guns." Imagine, for example, that a serial killer were to go to a twentieth-century psychologist and say, "My problem is that I sometimes feel guilty after I kill. I want to work this through with you to resolve my feelings so that I can kill without guilt." No psychological counselor would do such a thing. In the twenty-fourth century, a "Counselor at Law" could well combine the roles of therapist and lawyer which our century assumes are incompatible. In a short paper such as this, we cannot present detailed scenarios as to how such a "Counselor at Law" would function except to say that dramatic conflict would exist between the lawyer and his own client, as well as between the lawyer and the opposing side. Further, the purpose here is not to argue that the "Counselor at Law" model is somehow the "right" one. Our aim is only to demonstrate that alternatives to the image of the twentieth-century lawyer can be imagined and placed harmoniously within the cultures portrayed on science fiction television series. provide marvelous opportunities to depict alien lawyers. Here, too, the key is to be consistent with the alien culture portrayed. However, it is likely that this alien culture will not be as well-developed as the one which is the primary setting of the series. Thus, the challenge will be to invent a plausible, yet very different kind of, lawyer based on very little information about the alien's culture. For example, how should a Ferengi lawyer be portrayed? In order to answer this question, we must ask what we know about the Ferengi culture and what sort of legal system that culture might have produced. Once we have made these decisions, the lawyer should be portrayed as someone well-adapted to that legal system. The Ferengi are a race of merchant-thieves. A Ferengils status comes from his9 success in besting others through sharp business practices. Our ethics are foreign to them, just as theirs are to us. A legal system patterned closely on our own would be out of place for them and would likely not exist. The Ferengi legal system would have to include a heavy component of bargaining and deal-making, or it would be unlikely to garner respect within Ferengi society. A number of possibilities present themselves. Perhaps judges compete to be selected by the litigants to hear the case. Perhaps witness testimony must be "purchased" in order to be presented. That is, perhaps a Ferengi litigant must risk his assets in order to proceed. One vision of such a system might have the look of a high- stakes poker game combined with the haggling common to flea markets or bazaars. Another possibility is raised by a passing reference on a recent episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, in which it was mentioned that plea- bargaining is an integral part of the Ferengi legal system. One could imagine their method of plea-bargaining being much more free-wheeling than is allowed by our system. Imagine, for example, the Ferengi prosecutor saying, "plead guilty and we'Il give your son a scholarship to Ferengi University." The Ferengi lawyer might be a master negotiator combined with a huckster showman extraordinare -- P. T. Barnum, Monty Hall, and Mephistopheles rolled into one. Perhaps the Ferengi lawyer will not be precisely what we have suggested here. What is clear, however, is that he will be something more than Perry Mason with big ears. system can and should be changed for the science fiction setting. Whatever our image of the contemporary lawyer, it probably is not how a lawyer on a science fiction series should be portrayed. How is the cross-examination of a witness conducted in a warrior society? If the culture is a theocracy, perhaps the advocate would be a lawyer-priest. On a world where magic works, consider the lawyer-magician. How would such changes affect the fact-finding process, legal arguments, court procedure? The possibilities are endless. In a television science fiction setting, the portrayal of lawyers can be as inventive as any other aspect of the show. Lawyers have a place in science fiction television, but please, let's get rid of Perry. like our own, a few points, including the use of narrative testimony (although only by the defendant in this show) and the ability of Cogley to break into Shaw's presentation to call Captain Kirk as a witness, might be thought of as hints of the informal legal system which is more dramatically present in The Next Generation. For a complete discussion of the legal system in Star Trek: The Next Generation, see "The Law of the Federation: Images of Law, Lawyers, and the Legal System in Star Trek: The Next Generation", by Paul Joseph & Sharon Carton, in The University of Toledo Law Review, Vol. 43 (1992). 2. September 17, 1978 saw the premiere of a program which was, at the time, widely perceived as an inferior television rip-off of the immensely popular film, Star Wars. In the pilot episode, "Saga of a Star World," twelve human colonies in a distant galaxy are at war with the Cylons, a race of powerful and demonic robots. The Cylons use the ruse of a proffered peace treaty to lull the colonists into a false sense of security and destroy the colonies. Only one of the colonies' battlestars, the Galactica, escapes. Leading a fleet of "rag-tag," ill-equipped space vessels, the Galactica begins a search for a fabled lost human colony known only as Earth. While the premise of the series was markedly different from that of the Star Wars trilogy, both played like cowboys in space, and Galactica had characters who bore some similarity to Star Wars figures. The series' two featured characters were pilot buddies Apollo (played by Richard Hatch) and Starbuck (played by Dirk Benedict). The stolid, saintly Apollo was seen as a low-rent Luke Skywalker, while the roguish, irreverent Starbuck was considered a knock-off of Han Solo. Galactica was also criticized for its politically incorrect philosophical bent. The human peace-seeking politicians were portrayed as weak, ineffectual, and myopic, idealogues whose idealism led to their people's downfall, while the military machine was led by the brilliant visionary, Apollo's father Adama (portrayed by Lorne Greene). Despite these drawbacks, Galactica's run of seventeen episodes was a cult favorite, and spawned a sequel, Galactica: 1980, in which the battlestar succeeds in finding Earth. The original series has also been seen in syndication. Unlike Star Trek (classic or Next Generation), the series was primarily action-driven, not tackling some of the ethical and political issues often addressed in science fiction. But like Star Trek, Galactica featured an episode in which a major character was charged with murder. Also like Trek, Galactica's imaginative futuristic view did not extend to its idea of future lawyers. 3. Approximately ten of our hours. 4. Joseph, Paul & Sharon Carton. "The Law of the Federation: Images of Law, Lawyers, and the Legal System in Star Trek: The Next Generation," in The University of Toledo Law Review Vol. 43 (1992). 5. Star Trek: The Next Generation: "The Measure of a Man." 6. Ibid. "If I think for one minute that you're not giving me your best effort I'll end this right then and there." (Louvois; emphasis added). 7. Ibid. 8. Joseph & Carton. 9. Various episodes of The Next Generation indicate that the Ferengi are a highly sexist, male-dominant society. It would not be expected to find a female Ferengi lawyer. This does raise interesting questions about the status of women, Ferengi or human, in the Ferengi courts. Can a woman testify? Can she bring a lawsuit? How would a human woman be treated by a Ferengi court? These questions are beyond the scope of this article, but suggest the type of issues which could profitably be explored in creating the Ferengi lawyer. |
