On a recent Armchair Expert podcast, host Dax Shepard paraphrased a quote by Herbert Simon, the gist being “…a wealth of information creates a poverty of attention…”  Wanting to get the quote just right, I looked it up and while the simple paraphrase is fantastic, there are too many gems in the full quote to not repeat it here: “In an information-rich world, the wealth of information means a dearth of something else: a scarcity of whatever it is that information consumes. What information consumes is rather obvious: it consumes the attention of its recipients. Hence a wealth of information

A funny Instagram post caught my eye the other day – a STOP sign with another sign immediately under it that said, “No stopping any time.” While surly there’s an explanation or with some thought, one could figure it out, it is still a bit of a head scratcher. It also made me think about all the times that jurors receive either contradictory or confusing messages during trial. With years of experience and knowledge about extremely nuanced details of the law, attorneys either do not notice or are not troubled by contradiction and confusion since those don’t really exist in

A favorite client sent me this link with this message, “Wouldn’t this be a fun case to work on!” Jury Selection in the Trump Organization Case a Trial of Its Own – The New York Times (nytimes.com)  As I read it I had many thoughts, but mostly just how impossible it would be to truly get a “fair and impartial jury” for any case involving Donald Trump. Love him or hate him, everyone has an opinion. And, to muck up the water even more, I’d be very suspicious of anyone who states that they don’t have an opinion at all.

Few things are more frustrating for a jury consultant than voir dire ending with the feeling that we did not learn anything particularly meaningful about the jury. It happens much more often than one might think, in part because it is difficult for some attorneys to appreciate how they could talk directly with the venire for thirty minutes and not learn anything valuable. Instead, we are left trying to extract insights from such trivial facts as Juror #14’s decades old DUI conviction or Juror #27 being an engineer. We have published extensively on the most effective strategies for voir dire

It’s fantastic being back on the road. Zoom projects were great and can still be, but there’s nothing like being in the room with ten to twelve strangers debating serious topics, struggling to understand highly complex information, and then figuring out how to use that information to convince others in the room that they are right. It’s a frustrating, entertaining, informative, eye-opening, funny, and humbling experience.  From Seattle to Miami, Oakland to Trenton, and Houston to Chicago, two things are abundantly clear: 1) people are people; and 2) people are different. What?! Here’s what I mean: no matter the case

I was recently teaching a class on visual learning, memory, and attention. I asked the participants to make a list of good rules for designing effective visual messages in slide shows, and I got the answers you might expect. Students said things like “use fewer slides,” “keep the backgrounds light and simple,” “use section headers and signpost for the audience,” etc. These answers aren’t surprising as they reflect much of the conventional wisdom on what makes for effective and persuasive slides. The problem is this: most of what people know about visual message design runs afoul of what brain science

“So, you’re telling me there’s a chance,” Lloyd happily declares in Dumb and Dumber as his dream girl clarifies that his chances of a relationship with her are “more like one in a million” than one in a hundred. It is this same absurd and unreasonably optimistic view that I imagine must drive defense attorneys who rely on the same old, failed defense themes over and over again. The best defense themes are the ones that grab jurors’ attention immediately and draw them in. They show jurors there is an entirely different world to the case than what they

This week, Will Smith delivered what the Oscars have desperately needed in recent years: something for people to talk about the next day. It’s hard to imagine a hotter topic around the water coolers this week. Plenty of jokes will be flying as evidenced by Conan O’Brien’s Tweet asking if anyone has a late night show he can borrow just for Monday. I’ve already heard the one about Smith immediately inking a deal to star in the “Pursuit of Slappyness.”  I know a lot of litigators who don’t care about the Oscars and probably find it silly (perhaps even annoying)

A half-eaten bagel hurls across the room at the large screen of mock jurors deliberating in the next room. “I spent at least five minutes talking about that in my presentation!” insists the incensed attorney. Why don’t they understand the proximate cause defense? Were they listening to the attorney who is now half a bagel short of a fulfilling breakfast? Were they paying attention? Or are they just stupid? There are plenty of clichés that apply: A nickel for every time would make me rich; a drinking game would make me drunk. Sayings aside, this happens…a lot. An attorney gives

I have purposely avoided writing about narrative and its importance for years since the industry of jury consulting is oversaturated with folks who advise, “You gotta tell a story.” While true, this advice never seemed helpful to me as it seemed akin to self-help books that tell you just to work harder, be happier, or visualize your goals. Too many times, I have seen attorneys embrace the advice to tell a story, only to struggle with what that actually means as they prepare for trial. Afterall, it is not like attorneys get to sit around a campfire with jurors and