Sunday, August 18, 2019

2019 We Could Have Won Moot Court

We Could Have Won Moot Court

Steven B. Zwickel, Esq.
2019
One requirement for completing the program at the law school I attended was mandatory participation in a competition called Moot Court. Working with another law student, we were asked to put together oral arguments supporting a hypothetical legal case. My partner (the wonderfully calm Susan Bergman Addamo) and I did the best that we could, but we never made it past the first round of the competition; we got no feedback and never found out what we should have done better.[1] 
        This has bothered my for more than 40 years, but now I think I know what we should have done way back when.[2]

Facts of the case

A man, identified as Plaintiff, happened to witness a horrible automobile accident, in which a person named Victim was mutilated and killed by a car driven by Driver. Plaintiff claimed that, as a result of having seen this terrible sight, Plaintiff suffered from insomnia, flashbacks, emotional turmoil, and other psychological effects. Thus, Plaintiff sued Driver for damages for the negligent infliction of severe emotional distress.

The Law

The case was governed by the law of torts. A tort is what lawyers call a wrongful act that causes someone else to suffer enough of a loss or harm to result in legal liability for the person who commits a tortious act. Examples of torts include assault, battery, causing an injury (deliberately or by negligence), causing financial losses, or invading someone’s privacy.) 
        The Intentional Infliction of Emotional Distress is recognized as a tort in New York and it was and is grounds for a legal claim[3]. However, in New York in 1974, unintentionally inflicting emotional distress was not considered a valid basis for a legal claim. In other words, deliberately scaring someone so that they have a heart attack is a tort, but accidentally frightening the hell out of someone is not.
        In our case, the lower court ruled that New York did not recognize Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress as a tort. That Plaintiff would witness the accident and suffer emotional distress afterwards was deemed “unforeseeable”, so the court ruled in favor of Driver. Plaintiff appealed, and we were supposed to argue Plaintiff’s appeal of the original judgment before the moot court.

Our (faulty) Argument

The best argument we could come up with was that New York should change the law and recognize Negligent Infliction of Emotional Distress as a tort. A reckless driver, we said, whose behavior resulted in an accident, should be held liable for all the consequences of that behavior—foreseeable or not. Asking an appeals judge to overturn a longstanding legal principle was a weak argument and we deserved to lose.

How we could have won

Had we followed the progress of psychological medicine in recognizing the aftereffects of witnessing some awful event, we might have come up with better support for our argument.
        The idea that some people have strong, adverse reactions to witnessing horrifying events is not a new one, but for a very long time it was viewed as a “female” problem. For many centuries women were seen as subject to an illness called hysteria, which was characterized by symptoms like crippling anxiety, trouble breathing, fainting, nausea, nervous tics, insomnia, etc. It was believed that the cause of these symptoms lay in the woman’s uterus, thus the term hysteria, from the Greek foruterus. Obviously, men could not suffer from hysteria because they lacked a uterus. 
        In the old days, women were generally regarded as the “weaker” sex, ruled by emotion rather than by reason, and hysteria, also called neurasthenia, was just an extreme expression of typical female traits. 
        Over time, ideas about hysteria began to change; by the 1800s, doctors began see hysteria as a mental, rather than a physical disorder. The minds of women who were hysterical were perceived to be “alienated” from reality and a new medical specialty arose to care for them—the Alienists—the ancestors of today’s psychologists and psychiatrists. Near the end of the 1800s, doctors began to accept the theories of Sigmund Freud, including the idea that hysteria was not physical, but an emotional, internal illness that could be dealt with by trained psychologists.
        It should come as no surprise that women in the Victorian Era and well into the 20th Century had many reasons to become hysterical. For example, It was a time of severe sexual repression that left women bewildered, frightened, and ignorant about their own sexuality. Many, if not most, women lost babies and young children to disease and infection in the days before people knew about germs and sanitation. [One of my grandmothers had 5 children die as babies and toddlers; my father was the only child she had who lived to adulthood.] 
        Life was full of things that could traumatize any woman, regardless of class, education, or physical health. [My other grandmother experienced something similar to our Plaintiff. She happened to be on the scene when a streetcar in New York City ran over a woman and severed her leg. Grandma pulled the woman to the curb and wrapped something around the woman’s leg as a tourniquet. My mother, who was just a little girl at the time, witnessed this and carried the memory of this horrifying event with her for 60 years]
        Women in the bad old days were supposedly suffering from hysteria, but men with similar symptoms were diagnosed with “nerves.” [In 1866 hysteria was joined by a new diagnosis that had a similar set of symptoms: it was called railway spine, and it was a nervous disorder believed to be caused either witnessing the accidents that the dangerous railways of the time generated in large numbers or by what we now call whiplash. Unlike hysteria, railway spine affected both men and women. -Wikipedia] 
        Men were supposed to be the stronger sex—stoic, rational, and unemotional—the exact opposite of women. Real men were tough; they didn’t cry or express emotions.
        It’s not clear exactly when or how that began to change, but awareness of the fact that men did have emotional reactions came from experience on the modern battlefield. In spite of the carnage of the pre-firearm battlefield, there are few records of men having an emotional reaction afterwards. 
        One example of a soldier suffering the aftereffects of combat is the lead character in Shakespeare's 1601-04 play Othello. The play is based on a story from the mid-16th century that mayhave started with an actual incident involving a Moorish soldier in Venice. In Othello, Shakespeare describes a combat veteran who suffers from anxiety, anger, paranoia, and depression—all symptoms of what we now call post-traumatic stress syndrome. Shakespeare has the villain Iago refer to Othello's condition as "epilepsy" in Act IV when Iago lies about having slept with Othello's wife, and Othello passes out. That is just one of Iago's many lies. Shakespeare's play demonstrates that more than 400 years ago people were aware of the after effects of combat.
         That changed during the 19th century. People began to notice that some soldiers, and some civilians, with no physical evidence of wounds, were acting strangely. In 2015 the National Museum of Civil War Medicine mounted an exhibit on the mental health of Civil War soldiers, some of whom were diagnosed as having “acute mania” and “soldier’s heart” or “irritable heart”. Clearly these men were suffering from the aftereffects of combat.[4]Accounts of the survivors of the bombardment of Vicksburg during the American Civil War include psychological trauma to both men and women[5].
        It was the First World War that really opened the door to the idea of men reacting to horrifying events. Over the course of the 20th century, doctors began to understand that something terrible happened to men who went to war. It was called "shell shock"[6]and “gas hysteria” in the First World War.
        Doctors also revived an older term, neurasthenia, to describe a psychiatric disorder which was the result of the terrors of modern warfare. Exact numbers are hard to find, but as many as 80,000 British soldiers suffered from shell shock in WWI. Unfortunately, some victims were stigmatized for not being manly enough, for cowardice, and for shirking.
        In WWII, the condition was called “battle fatigue” and soldiers were said to have “a thousand-yard stare” to describe the blank, unfocused gaze of men who have become emotionally detached from the horrors around them.
        In the Korean War the condition was diagnosed as "operational exhaustion.” 
        In the 1960s, “combat fatigue syndrome” or “combat neurosis” was recognized as a problem for Vietnam War veterans. Nowadays, the condition is called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). PTSD was not officially recognized by the American Psychiatric Association until 1980, six years after we argued our case in moot court. 
        There were articles published in professional psychiatric and psychological journals about PTSD in the 1960s and 1970s, but, even if we’d known about them, I don’t think we law students would have had access to them. {Before the internet, you had to go to an academic library to find journal articles in a specialized field. We didn’t have any way of doing that.} 
        The keyword we missed was “stress”; had we used that term, we might have found articles that could have led us to the growing field of PTSD. Stress management books and articles didn’t really become popular until the growth of the self-help movement in the late 1970s and 80s.[7]

We could have made our arguments stronger

Had we known about PTSD, we could have told the story of hysteria—how it was once considered a “women’s problem” and over time, as described here, it became clear that terrifying events affect both men and women. We could have demonstrated that, while hysteria is no longer recognized by as a medical disorder, a strong emotional response to terrifying events, as Sigmund Freud noted, can affect both males and females. 
        If Driver caused the accident by negligence, then we would argue that Driver is responsible for any consequences, regardless of whether they were foreseeable or not. PTSD is a real medical condition and, whether caused by intentional acts or by negligence, it should be considered valid grounds for a tort.
After 44 years, I rest my case.


[1]The moot court requirement was controversial at my law school back in 1975. See the article “Moot Court Hazing” in (1975) The Justinian: Vol. 1975 : Iss. 3 , Article 2: https://brooklynworks.brooklaw.edu/justinian/vol1975/iss3/2


[2]This article on how we could have won was inspired by the marvelous Prof. Alta Charo of the University of Wisconsin Law School, who let me sit in on her Torts class in 2016 (preparing for a presentation I was asked to do on how to teach Millennials). I learned more in one hour with Prof. Charo than I did in two semesters in Brooklyn with an arrogant, condescending schmuck of a teacher.


[3]The author of the textbook on torts that we used in law school described the evolution of this particular tort in an article he wrote for the Michigan Law Review. Prosser, William L. “Intentional Infliction of Mental Suffering: A New Tort” (1938-39; v.37, p.874.)


[4]See Horwitz, Tony, Smithsonian Magazine “Did Civil War Soldiers Have PTSD?”; Jan. 2015; https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/ptsd-civil-wars-hidden-legacy-180953652/

[5]During the siege, Union gunboats lobbed over 22,000 shells into the town and army artillery fire was even heavier. -Wikipedia

[6]“Shell shock,” the term that would come to define the phenomenon, first appeared in the British medical journal The Lancetin February 1915, only six months after the start of the war, in an article by Capt. Charles Myers of the Royal Army Medical Corps -https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/the-shock-of-war-55376701/These videos demonstrate the effects of shell shock, but they are hard to watch: See Shell Shock - The Psychological Scars of World War 1 I THE GREAT WAR Specialhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvTRJZGWqF8,The Effects of Shell Shock: WWI Nueroses | War Archiveshttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IWH,Shell Shock during World War Onehttps://www.bbc.co.uk/history/worldwars/wwone/shellshock_01.shtml

[7]My own book on the topic, Workplace Stress: Nine One-Hour Workshops (Families International, Inc.) wasn’t published until 1994. 


Thursday, August 1, 2019

2019 Not-so-bad Military History Books

Steven B. Zwickel
August, 2019

My dear wife hates military history. She says it’s boring and meaningless.
     Consider: 
“At 0944 General so-and-so ordered an attack on the left flank, which met fierce resistance from Field Marshall Blunder’s hussars, uhlans, dragoons, and lancers. Fighting continued until 1414, when the redoubts, parapets, “mamelons and ravelins” were enfiladed and stormed. The battle went on, and on, and on…” 
She’s got a point.
     
I was first exposed to military history in elementary (K-6) school, when we were required to write and present to the class our book reports. This was back in the 1950s and two of the more popular books that (only the boys) reported on were Quentin Reynolds Battle of Britain (1953, Random House) and Richard Tregaskis’ Guadalcanal Diary (1943, Random House). Both of these were about the Second World War—something all of our parents had recently lived through, though they rarely spoke about it.
     The Reynolds book sparked a school-yard discussion about whether the title was misleading or not. Some boys held that, without machine guns or bazookas, it was unfair to refer to the “battle” of Britain, which only involved German bombers and English Spitfires. The “Diary” (a word most of us associated with girly-type writing) gained credibility when one of my classmates claimed his uncle or cousin or other relative had been there and it was just like in the book.
     Book report presentations always ended with the pupil telling the class, “If you want to find out how it ends, read the book.” Not terribly original.
     My elementary school didn’t really teach a lot of history, much less military history. I think we went from Columbus to Lincoln in 5th Grade and as far as the Spanish-American War in 6th Grade.
     ☞ The school building was itself a veteran of that war, having been built in 1898 as a hospital for recovering soldiers. The most famous graduate, although I didn’t learn this until many years later, was the actress and silent film star Clara Bow. 

I peeked (yes, I was one of THOSE kids) and read to the end of the 6th Grade history book, where I discovered that, in 1914, a war broke out in Europe that would eventually embroil the entire world, including the United States of America! This, I assumed, must be the World War that had ended a decade or so earlier. Later on, one of my classmates explained to me that there were TWO World Wars; we won the first one, but the sore losers demanded a do-over, so we had to do it again.
     We read some war-related books in junior high school. The Red Badge of Courage by Stephen Crane was required reading, so we weren’t too enthusiastic about it. Books about war seemed to be either personal memoirs or military histories. Memoirs, like Red Badge, gave readers a sense of what war was like, but no real idea of who was fighting, why, and how the war played out. Many of us read Cornelius Ryan’s The Longest Day, a minute-by-minute account of the D-Day landings.
     Later on, we read Norman Mailer’s The Naked and The Dead, and I think quite a few of us were scolded for trying to sneak a euphemistic “fugging” into our conversation in imitation of Mailer’s GIs.
     Catch-22, by Joseph Heller, was the big anti-war book that caught on with my generation as we faced the dilemma of the Vietnam War. Vietnam split the nation—doves (peaceniks) who opposed the war and hawks who supported it. I was lucky, in that I was rejected by the Army because I have only one working kidney. This good fortune, however, left me with many decades of guilt: because I did not have to go to Vietnam, many others did, all of whom paid a price for doing so.
     My guilt led me to read everything I could about the Vietnam War (entirely personal memoirs) and that left me feeling even worse knowing what my countrymen had gone through while I sat at home. After that, I lost any interest in reading military history.
     Twenty-five years later, after my father died, I inherited several boxes with his souvenirs from his service in WWII. For a few years, they sat in my basement, but eventually I started going through them to see what was there. That was when I realized I really didn’t know too much about the war in the Pacific and why my dad had spent part of his life on a tropical island. My curiosity induced me to start reading military history; I wanted to learn more about WWII, not just the campaign my dad was in, but the larger picture of the war.
     The war history books were fairly helpful in understanding what led up to the war, what happened during the war, and how it ended, but I also came across lots of books about battles, military units, and warships. Some of these were personal memoirs and I found them incomprehensible. They alluded to people, places, ships, and machines without any discussion. A reader who was not there—in that battle, on that ship, flying that type of airplane—couldn't possibly understand what the authors were talking about.  
      Here is an example:
The Front Royal was a T2-SE-A1 (Navy designation) tanker which was the workhorse of the tanker fleet – 481 being built during the war. A typical tanker crew had 42 to 45 mariners and 17 Armed Guard. A T2 was typically 523 feet long overall, had a 68 foot beam, 30 foot draft, displaced 10,448 gross tons (21,880 loaded displacement tons) , with 6,000 shaft hp turbo- electric propulsion, a speed of 14.5 – 16 knots and a liquid capacity of 141,200 barrels (nearly 6 million gallons). T2’s were named after monuments, national parks, forts, battles, historic settlements, trails, lakes or swamps. The ship was likely named after the 1862 Civil War battle fought at Front Royal, Virginia but this is unconfirmed. *

Surely, only someone who served on Front Royal during the war would find this both interesting and intelligible. 
     I teach communication courses, and a main requirement is that my students write with a clear understanding of why they are writing and for whom they are writing. I will not give them a passing grade if they can’t explain their purpose and audience.
    The WWII memoirs baffled me; I could not figure out why they were written or who the intended readers were. Why were these books written? Why had they been published? Was there really a market for these books? Their very existence was a puzzle.

It was only a few years ago that a news story on TV helped me understand the purpose and audience of the World War II memoirs. 

The United States has been at war in Asia for more than 18 years and as of this writing (in 2019) fighting in Afghanistan continues. We now have a new generation of war vets who have returned from the battlefields with their own memories, including painful recollections of terrifying events that have caused many to suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). These men and women may experience symptoms of PTSD as described by mental health experts, such as:


Many efforts are now underway to understand the effects of PTSD and to help vets deal with the symptoms. The story I watched on TV described how social workers and psychologists were helping a group of Iraq/Afghanistan vets. As part of the process, the veterans were asked to write about their experiences in combat, including those horrifying episodes that had triggered their PTSD. By writing down their stories the vets were somehow able to come to grips with what had happened to them and to deal with the stressful aftermath.
That’s when it hit me: the indecipherable World War II memoirs were the veterans’ way of dealing with the horrors of war. 
The reason for writing the memoirs was to help the authors jettison the psychological pain and trauma. The audience for these stories was no one but the authors—they were writing for themselves, trying to deal with their memories. The World War II vets didn’t have access to all the social and psychological services vets have today, so they came up with their own solution to dealing with PSTD: they wrote it down and got it out of their heads.
And that’s why there are so many “bad” books about warfare out there.

* from A Memoir of Edward Frederick Barta’s Service in the United States Navy Armed Guard during World War II <https://www.armed-guard.com/barta.pdf>


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