CELL Blog | Center for Engaged Learning in the Law

This blog may be the first of a few reactions to Prof. John Sonsteng’s essay, “A Legal Education Renaissance: A Practical Approach for the Twenty-First Century” (34 William Mitchell Law Review 303-472 (2007)).

The essay’s thesis is that our current method of educating future lawyers is old and wheezy. (It states that it’s older than blue jeans, so perhaps Prof. Sonsteng peeked into one of my dresser drawers.) However, his “Renaissance” primarily recounts the decades-old writings of educational theorists who promoted experiential learning, and collects together already-existing “innovative” law school course and programs.

We should applaud Prof. Sonsteng for encouraging continued curricular reform (or at least a dialogue about the need for curricular reform). But, despite its epic length and paradigm-shifting title, I don’t think anything here is the legal education equivalent of the apple falling on Newton’s head, Madame Curie discovering penecillin in a bit of mold, or Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel. I don’t think anything in the essay will prompt law school deans to heed its call for each law school to spend the next 17 years developing and continously revising ots own new curriculum. (And why should each law school have to do this for itself anyway? Not very efficient!)

Enough generalities, here are three specific concerns.

1. In the very first paragraph, the essay states that law schools should promise their students that upon graduation they will be prepared to practice law. If law schools do make that promise, many of their students may indeed practice law immediately upon graduation- as plaintiffs in a breach of contract action. Consider the myriads of ways in which law school graduates use their law degrees. Even those who could be said to be practicing law do very different things. So how can law schools promise that their students will be prepared to “practice law.” And at what level of practice? The essay cites studies showing that lawyers think they improve with experience– so to what level of expertise does the promise pertain? And why should law schools make that promise? Many students come to law school with no desire to practice law; should they be shunted elsewhere? To where– all law schools are to make the same promise? So right off the bat, the essay’s premise troubles me.

2. Even at its general level, the essay has a number of inconsistencies. Here’s one. Law schools should promise students that they will be prepared to practice law when they graduate. Fine, for the sake of argument. But the practice of law is often stressful, right? So why should stress-reduction be an important aspect of law school reform? (p. 339) Maybe law schools should promise to prepare graduates only for low-stress types of law practice?

3. The essay naively accepts the stated benefits of innovatiion at face value. For example, the essay points out that Syracuse offers a General Counsel Transition Course, that among other things teaches “decision-making, problem-solving, management of issues, common sense…” Without in any way criticizing this course, I think it’s fair to wonder whether it accomplishes its goals to such an extent that graduates are prepared to step in as corporate counsel upon graduation.

So after all these years in law teaching, I’m just another incrementalist? Rats!