The Great Debate

“Come on now, that's absurd!” I yell trying to maintain my composure. Listening to his argument is tickling me to no end. He can’t possibly think the judge is going to agree with him. If he keeps this up, we got this case in the bag. “It’s no more foolish than your opening remarks!” He fires back. He’s a spry young lawyer, new to the scene but not to the art of argument. He’s dressed for death in a three piece suit. We vary in appearance just much as we differ in our beliefs. My tie hangs loosely around the collar of yesterday’s shirt but my argument is solid. Besides appearances mean nothing here and for all his flashy neatly pressed attire his whole argument is garbage.

The courtroom stands divided. Patrons stand at the brink of war. One half swear bottom up, and the other believing top down is superior. They carry signs with large arrows pointing downward or upward respectfully. Tempers flare, and teeth are bared in this hall of justice. This small space is like a tender box just waiting for a spark. Extra guards have been called in just to maintain civility. I even heard the governor is on standby with the order for martial law if this goes sideways. If we as lawyers can’t put this to bed once and for all, the citizens are sure to take things into their own hands. No pressure right?

Justin Driver, he’s the counsel for the bottom up approach and the latest little shit to pass the bar and come swim with the big fish. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s in over his head with this one. This has been a silent war raging for years, and he’s just stepping onto the battlefield fresh from basic training.

The young lawyer stands at the podium commanding the attention of every ear in attendance. His voice cascades on to the microphone and leaps from the speakers. It’s a symphony of perfect grammar and pitch, and definitely not the public school education English I learned. But fancy words don’t win in the courtroom, persuasion does. We would love to say that the truth always wins here but I’m a lawyer not a liar. In reality the way you dress up your argument. Wooing your audience and swaying the nonbelievers to your cause is what makes or breaks your case. Driver’s just loud and flashy, his words will be heard but they won’t stick to their ribs and will soon be forgotten.

“If I may your honor, when building a home you start from the ground up. You wouldn’t begin building a roof, until the framework is in place to support it. This way just makes good sense!” Driver says flashing me a smile.

“Your honor if I may interject. The fact is that, we aren’t building anything. It’s already built. What we are doing is designing it, decorating it if you will. And using this fine example of building a home, when the home is built you never put in your carpet before you paint the ceiling and walls. Top down, it’s just better sense…” I rebut.

The crowd erupts and the judge nearly leaps from his seat striking his gavel to maintain order. Several of the guards cock their shotguns in a demonstration of readiness to suppress the forming mob. “Look gentleman,” The judge says, “is there any point that you two both can agree on? Maybe somewhere we can meet in the middle?”

“We’ve already met in the middle!” We shout in unison. The judge throws up his hands and rubs his temples. “They don’t pay me enough for this shit, I swear.” He whispers. “Counselors, do either of you have anything to add other than the bickering back and forth? Anything scientific? Expert opinion perhaps? Or shall we move to closing remarks?”

Dammit the judge has grown tired of the exchange and is ready to pull the plug on this. The debate is where I shine. I wasn’t counting on this and hadn’t had time to really razzle dazzle him yet. Think! I’ve got to find a way to stall this. “Closing remarks are fine with me your honor. It’s time we nip this in the butt. These top down users have been a thorn in our side for far too long. I mean where do they get the gall to come out after us and then us how to get things done?” Driver says, steadily trying to drive a knife into my side.

“Your honor please, how can we listen to such an approach, the greatest advancements come after the first draft. Sure they came about in 1961 and our approach in 1963 but if we only stuck with the original plans we would all still be living in caves and starting fires with sticks! Perhaps since Mr. Driver begs to maintain the original, maybe he would like to trade in his sports car for a horse and buggy!” The crowd erupts at my banter and this is the outcome I needed to keep this working in my favor.

“Quiet down people!” The judge shouts. “To hell with this I’m ready to make my ruling. For the sake of my sanity and the tranquility hanging on by a thread in my courtroom, I’m eliminating closing arguments. I shall return shortly.” That gavel comes down and the robed man rises up and into his chambers. Driver rears back in his seat and throws his feet on to the table in front of him. The cocky little rookie glances over at me smirking. An air of over confidence swirls about him. I swear I hope the judge’s ruling knocks that damn grin off his face.

The judge returns to the courtroom and we all stand to hear his ruling. Though the litigation was brief I feel my points were able to shine here today but I’m still a bit nervous as to what the judge will say. Glancing over at Driver I feel like he is sharing my sentiment, his leg hasn’t stopped shaking since the judge came back. “Well this has been quite the debate, and one that has been going on arguably for sixty plus years. Calculators, and Phones. Keypads that differ in direction and only agree in the middle. Users of both devices are understandably frustrated with swapping directions but it has been my understanding that they ultimately adjust and flip flop between the two. Today you both made compelling arguments but to change the infrastructure of either device when users have had six decades to adjust would cost manufacturers billions. It’s my ruling that no action take place at this time and calculators and numeric keypads remain bottom up while phones remain top down. That is all.” The gavel strikes almost as hard as Driver’s jaw when it hits the ground. I can’t say I approve of the ruling but it’s not a loss so I’ll take it. I make my way over to Driver and extend my hand as professional gentlemanship of a debate well fought. He takes my hand and offers up a smile. “You put up a good fight, friend.” A term that I’m using loosely here. “Yea I was sure I had that one.” He says with a small chuckle. “Ya know, I would like to debate you again sometime Driver, that young mind of yours gave me a run for my money.” He stares at me and just smiles that big confident smile he’s displayed this whole case. “Well you might just get your chance, next week I’ll be arguing for the under party in the toilet paper debate, I hear the Overs are looking for good counsel.”

-End