Investor's Business Daily, August 2nd, 2007
In a steamy Tennessee courtroom in July 1925, Clarence Darrow seemed to face a setback from which he couldn't save his case.
He was there to defend John Scopes, a teacher who made himself a test case for a state law making it a crime to teach evolution. As Darrow had done throughout his career, he aimed his arguments and his eloquence at not just the judge and jury, but also at the wider audience outside the courtroom.
"Scopes is not on trial," he railed in his opening statement. "Civilization is on trial."
He was as committed to fighting injustice as defending clients. To defend Scopes, he arrayed clergymen, anthropologists and biologists to bolster the case for evolution. But the judge refused to let them testify. The case was about Scopes, the judge said, not evolution.
Overnight, Darrow (1857-1938) and his legal team came up with another strategy. They'd call the opposing lawyer, Williams Jennings Bryan, who'd pressed the legislature to pass the law in the first place. Bryan said he believed in a literal interpretation of the Bible.
Because of heat and a big crowd that included newsmen from across the nation, the trial was moved outdoors, giving it even more of a circus atmosphere.
During questioning, Bryan said what Darrow wanted him to say.
"The creation might have been going on for a long time?" asked Darrow.
"It might have continued for millions of years," answered Bryan. Suddenly, Bryan's literal interpretation of the Bible didn't seem so different than Darwin's evolution.
Scopes was convicted anyway. Darrow expected it. The state Supreme Court upheld his conviction. But Darrow's brilliant handling of the case helped shift public opinion. He later noted that 13 states went on to repeal anti-evolution laws.
Tennessee's law had been ignored. Teachers continued to teach evolution. That's why Darrow went to Dayton, Tenn., to try the case.
His one-time law partner, Peter Sissman, knew what made Darrow a great trial lawyer.
"Darrow impresses on juries that it is not always easy to distinguish between right and wrong, particularly for historical purposes. His skepticism is so genuine that he imbues juries with it," Sissman said.
Darrow's skepticism of the conventional wisdom came from his father. Clarence was born in Kinsman, Ohio. His father, a woodworker and casket maker, was an abolitionist without orthodox religious views. Darrow was a mediocre student, but an avid reader. At a time when Saturday night debates were a form of public entertainment, Darrow showed talent early. His success in debates earned him invitations to debate in nearby towns.
Intrigued by the idea of debate as a career, he attended Allegheny College for a year and taught at county schools for three years while reading law books on the side. He attended the University of Michigan law school for a year, then finished his education by reading law in a Youngstown, Ohio, law office. He was admitted to the bar in 1878.
He started building his reputation as a defender of the downtrodden as a country lawyer. He heard of a man who'd made a harness for a wealthy customer, who then refused to pay. Without a fee, Darrow took his case through two trials, finally winning in the Ohio Supreme Court.
Looking for greater opportunity, he moved to Chicago in 1888. He joined clubs and gave speeches to draw attention to his practice. His rhetorical skill got him noticed by the newspapers.
Biographers Irving Stone and David Grover noted that Darrow had a specific method for appealing to juries.
In shirt sleeves, with his thumbs pushed under his suspenders, his shoulders hunched forward, he paced the courtroom or rocked back and forth on his feet. The movement forced jurors to pay attention, and made them feel as if Darrow were more like them -- a regular guy.
Author James Sayer, who studied Darrow's arguments in debates and in court, noticed they followed the same pattern. "He used a backdrop of history, labeling opponents as tools of the devil," Sayer said.
During arguments, Darrow used clear language, creating a "just folks" style. He used humor and sarcasm that could devastate an opponent. He was philosophically consistent, using the same lines of argument throughout his career.
In 1898, Darrow helped laborers in Oshkosh, Wis., where workers were charged with crimes during a strike against Paine Lumber Co. Again, he focused the jury's attention on the plight of the workingman, calling worker after worker as witnesses. He won a "not guilty" verdict.
His biggest success was defending William "Big Bill" Haywood, leader of the miners union, on charges of murdering former Idaho Gov. Frank Steunenberg. A drifter and occasional miner had confessed to the crime and was sentenced to prison. He was to be the prosecution's chief witness against Haywood and his co-defendants.
The drifter, Harry Orchard, had fabricated the story of being told by Haywood to plant a bomb in front of Steunenberg's home. Through thorough research, Darrow proved it by showing Haywood wasn't where Orchard said he was and revealing details about Orchard's unseemly background.
This story originally ran Nov. 18, 2004, on Leaders & Success.
