After a year-long hiatus, punctuated with a pleasant period of study leave and a harrowing few months on sick leave, I finally find myself, once again, in the familiar role of coaching my students for the Vis Moot. It is an endeavour that evokes ambivalence, akin to reuniting with an old friend who, while cherished, demands considerable time and energy. But let me be honest - how have I missed it!
From an external perspective, the duties of a coach might seem limited to steering students through simulated legal proceedings, be it in an English courtroom or an American-style arbitration. Yet those who take part in a moot court, be they coaches or mooters, recognize its deeper essence. While the foundation undoubtedly lies in legal preparation and the students' professional growth, my emphasis - and the sentiment I strive to impart - transcends these bounds. When I speak to the new Vis Moot students, the first thing I try to stress upon is the fact that lawyers, and mooters, do not just represent a party or present an argument. They are, in fact, acting as members of an ancient and prestigious profession - a profession that has seen emperors and paupers, heroes and villains, and has remained throughout the centuries the backbone of any civilization's quest for justice. The courtroom is not just a place where arguments are presented: it is a theatre, to a certain extent, where stories are told, lives are changed, and, at times, history is made. There is a triadic relationship between parties, lawyers, and adjudicators that, as eloquently explained by Calamandrei almost a century ago, is nothing short of a mystique ballet. Each one holds a specific role, with boundaries that must be respected, yet they all intertwine in a delicate dance of rhetoric, persuasion, and justice. It is thus essential to make my students understand that every nod, every raised eyebrow, every carefully chosen word contributes to this dance, this choreography of sorts. And while statutes, precedents, and legal doctrines form the bedrock of our chosen field, the beauty of rhetoric should not be overlooked. The power of a well-placed metaphor, the resonance of an apt historical analogy, and the cadence of a passionate plea often determine the difference between success and failure. As any former mooter knows, the arguments are the same for every team in every hearing. It is not about what one says, it is about how one says it.
Outside of law schools, memory is often lionized, and many a prospective student is lost to other subjects due to their fear of having to remember pages and pages of statutes and case-law, and their lack of confidence in their ability to do so. Remembering cases, statutes, and rules is undeniably essential. As anyone who spent more than a week as a law student knows, however, memory alone does not make a good lawyer; in fact, it does not even make a mediocre one. The art of storytelling remains severely underrated. A compelling narrative can make complex legal concepts accessible, humanize litigants, and move even the most stoic judges. To truly understand the heart of the law, one must weave together a delicate blend of facts, statutes, and raw emotions, crafting them into an evocative tapestry of stories. While lawyers have their trusty statute books to turn to for legal guidelines, there is not, to my knowledge, a collection of poignant tales that speak to the human experience, waiting to be consulted and shared. Many Vis Moot coaches are driven by values that extend beyond the mere application of, say, Article 25 of the CISG. Year after year, they discreetly allocate numerous hours, beyond their designated responsibilities, to guide a Vis Moot team. It is this unspoken commitment that epitomises our teaching philosophy. Whether I have been successful in the past, or whether I will be this year, is very much up for debate; but that, ultimately, is the goal.