COLUMN
BY HUNTER M. ABELL
“I have a case! Daddy, I have a case!” One of my daughters broke off squabbling with her sister just long enough to shout up toward the front seat. While focused on driving, I was dimly aware that the two had been arguing (largely out of boredom) about the proper name of one of their stuffed animals. And now one of my daughters was bringing the dispute to the court of last resort: Dad.
Over the last year, my daughters (10 and 8) have discovered more about the role of attorneys and judges. Having done so, they started bringing me “cases” for informal and prompt resolution. I follow the same procedure: I have the “plaintiff” tell me in her own words why she thinks she is right, do the same for the “defendant,” and then hear a brief reply. Decisions are issued from the bench. There is no appeal. The rules of evidence are relaxed (to put it mildly). It is a fun and worthwhile exercise in logic and reason for my daughters. In a telling and possibly frightening development, my youngest daughter has never lost.
After the most recent “case,” I thought about what being part of a family teaches me about the law. As I spend this year as your WSBA president, attempting to build the public’s trust and confidence in our Washington legal profession, I am reminded that great professional care and study separates attorneys from the public we serve. That said, attorneys and members of the public are frequently united by being components of a family structure. As I examine below, that is not always the case, but frequent enough that it merits attention.
What can family teach us about the law? Some thoughts from my own family. I am part of the “sandwich” generation, the group of Americans simultaneously raising children and caring for aging parents. As such, I am privileged to be the son of two wonderful parents. Both are still alive. My dad is in his mid-80s, and my mom, while younger, is battling pancreatic cancer. Both are tremendous sources of knowledge. They have “been there, done that, and got the T-shirt” on all that life has to offer. They are invaluable founts of wisdom.
The law, similarly, is a source of wisdom. Our common law system, with its emphasis on predictability and roots in common sense, teaches us how people interact with each other in civil society. Relatedly, our appellate court decisions teach us how laws apply in various contexts, providing enlightenment to practitioners and public alike.

The author’s daughters on a field trip to the Ferry County Courthouse.
I take different lessons from interacting with my daughters. Every parent hears the phrase, “It’s not fair!” The accompanying look is often devastating. Even at a very young age, children intimately understand the concept of fairness. Moreover, they thrive in fair environments, and hurt in unfair environments. Now, to be sure, my daughters’ concepts of what is fair may or may not be the same as mine. Nevertheless, they need and want fairness.
The same is true for the law. At least one study shows that litigants are more concerned with being heard and the fairness of the process than they are about whether or not they are ultimately successful.11 Tom R. Tyler, “Social Justice: Outcome and Procedure,” International Journal of Psychology 35, No. 2 (2000): 117. Key to that is the litigants’ belief that they were meaningfully heard in a fair process before an impartial decision-maker.
Both my parents and children reinforce in me the importance of order and predictability. As we walk with my mom in this fight against cancer, I have to grapple with the likelihood of losing a parent in the near future. Many of you have already done so or perhaps have already lost both parents. This is a first for me. It introduces the likelihood of my own family order suddenly being very different.
The law, meanwhile, provides predictability for the public as they navigate their lives. It changes slowly, which is often a good thing. But it does change, either through legislation or court precedent. It may be that we become accustomed to a certain legal landscape, only to realize one day it has changed before our very eyes. The state of the law, like our family structure, is not permanent. One day, the lawyer looks up and realizes both have changed.
As I mentioned above, attorneys and the public are frequently united by being components of a family structure. I say “frequently” because it is not always the case. We have members of our Association and the public that navigate life alone. Many of these individuals find extended family in friends and coworkers. For the members of our Association in that position, I hope they consider the WSBA as part of their broader professional family.
Every time I hear the phrase “I have a case,” it makes me smile. It means there is an opportunity to help resolve a dispute between my daughters. It means they look to me for wisdom, fairness, and stability. In turn, I am reminded that the public looks to legal professionals to promote these same values. As each daughter argues her case, their arguments make me a better attorney. Even more importantly, however, the opportunity to resolve their dispute makes me a better father. It is a wise use of time, as both the miles and years go speeding by.
NOTE
1. Tom R. Tyler, “Social Justice: Outcome and Procedure,” International Journal of Psychology 35, No. 2 (2000): 117.

