I once watched a man swear on a Bible he clearly didn’t believe in.
He looked the judge in the eye and lied beautifully. Calmly. Almost gracefully.
And for a moment, I envied how easily the lie left his lips.
That is the thing about litigation: it introduces you to the darkness people hide so well.
It is like lifting the curtain on humanity’s private theatre. Over here, betrayal wears perfume, greed wears a suit, and love walks in embittered and ready to massacre.
The law makes you see the dark sides of people and not just your clients.
You see it in spouses who turn their marital homes into battlegrounds.
You see it in siblings who fight over land their parents died trying to keep.
You see it in business partners who once called each other “brother” now shredding each other in court.
Over here, you learn that nothing – not even family – is immune to selfishness.
One day, you’ll stand in court watching two parents tear each other apart over custody, and you’ll realize they love winning more than they love their child. Another day, a client will swear they just want “what’s fair,” until fairness turns out not to favour them; then they’ll want blood instead. And just like that, you’ll see it again; that darkness that hides behind respectability, education, and good grammar.
Perhaps what shocks you most is that the law doesn’t just reveal people’s darkness.
It gives it structure.
It gives it language.
It gives it a chance to win.
You’ll see lies dressed in affidavits.
You’ll see manipulation cross-referenced with statutes.
You’ll see how sometimes, the cleverest argument can make the cruelest person look righteous.
Then one day, you’ll catch yourself doing it – crafting a submission that sounds noble even though you know the truth is murky. Then it will hit you; the darkness doesn’t just live in your clients anymore. It’s been seeping into you too, quietly, case after case.
It doesn’t happen all at once.
It happens slowly like erosion.
Until you wake up one morning, and compassion feels like a luxury you can’t afford.
You’ll start doubting good people, second-guessing sincerity, questioning every “I swear.” You’ll begin to believe everyone is capable of anything. And maybe you’re right.
But the danger is this – once you’ve seen the dark side of people too often, you stop looking for their light. That is when the law starts to take more from you than it gives.
So, I remind myself, sometimes out loud:
The courtroom is not the world.
Not everyone lies. Not everyone cheats. Not everyone hides something.
But deep down, I know the law has already changed the way I see people.
– Lawyer Fredericka