–From Jarod Morris, Oklahoma City University School of Law, Date of event: Fall 2004

During my Civil Procedure course at Oklahoma City University I was called upon to discuss the Burger King franchise case. The professor asked me a series of questions and I did quite well until the professor came to the question regarding jurisdiction for the suit and why one of the parties wanted to have the case decided in a particular jurisdiction.

I was stumped. I couldn’t think of anything so I responded, “I guess they just wanted to have it their way.” The class erupted in laughter and I was so zoned in the Socratic Method dialogue that I didn’t realize the humor in the statement for a few seconds. I couldn’t have come up with something like that if I tried.

–From Fred C. Russcol, Albany Law School, Date of event: 1972

At Albany Law School in 1972, Professor Watkins was brilliant but prickly. One day, he called on my friend, John Keyes, who answered as best he could. After a moment, Professor Watkins said, “Mr. Keyes, can you tell me why that was the stupidest answer I’ve heard all semester?”

My friend responded, “Well, Professor, it’s the first time you’ve called on me!”

–From Timothy DePeugh, Catholic University School of Law, Date of event: Fall 2003

My Contracts professor, the ultra-fabulous Professor Watson at Catholic University, is shiny bald. One day he called on me to discuss a case that involved jojoba fields in Arizona. I always choked and made a fool of myself in class when he asked me questions, so while I was fumbling around, he asked the class generally if anyone knew what jojoba was. Surprisingly, I actually knew the answer to that one, and said it’s a seed from which they extract an oil that’s often used as an ingredient in hair care products, especially shampoos and conditioners.

He said, “Well, Mr. DePeugh, I wouldn’t know anything about that.” And the whole class erupted in laughter. I had no idea what was so funny, so I sort of zoned out for a bit. He continued asking questions, and a few minutes later, while I was in the middle of answering another one of his questions, I blurted out, “Oh! Now I get it. It’s because you don’t use shampoo … oh no, I’m so sorry.” And once again, the class burst into laughter. He thanked me for giving the matter additional consideration.

–From Ari Johnson, College of William & Mary Law School, Date of event: Fall 2004

Some law professors use the Socratic Method as a teaching device. Others use it to make sure their students are awake. But some professors play the Socratic Method as if it were a game of chess. My Torts professor was one of those. You could never win this game with him, of course. One day, he walked into class and the first words out of his mouth were “Mr. Johnson,” and he didn’t let up on me for fifteen minutes, hammering me with questions about the 1853 British case of Lumley v. Gye (in which a person was held liable for damages caused when he induced an opera singer to break her exclusive contract with an opera house).

Seeing that I was prepared, he threw me a curveball: “Mr. Johnson, who is your favorite singer?” Not having any authority to cite, I didn’t answer this question out of a fear that I’d somehow get it wrong. Of course, there is no wrong answer in the non-Socratic world to such a question, but there’s no such thing as a “reasonable law student” when it comes to irrational fear.

The prof finally asked my classmates to select a favorite singer for me and they decided on Bob Dylan. The professor continued to play the game out to its conclusion. This might be why some people choose boxing over law: 12 rounds can’t possibly be as bad as 25 minutes of the Socratic Method at its finest.

–From Jeremiah Jarmin, Appalachian School of Law, Date of event: Spring 2005

It was during Contracts II when the class was discussing mental incapacity to enforce a contract. The professor brought up the concept of volitional impediment when dealing with a person suffering from a particular mental disorder. He asked the class, “What does volitional impediment mean?” One of the students raised his hand and began as if he were going to deliver some sort of long intelligent explanation of the words. He responded, “Volitional impediment is when … your volition is impeded.” The class lost it.

Then the professor asked what exactly the term “manic” meant, as when one is in a “manic” state of mind. A second student adopted the same line of deep reasoning used by the first student, saying, “Manic, you see … is the opposite … of depressive.”

The class lost it again. The professor then kindly removed the student from his seat, and had him switch seats with a student who was sitting next to the first student. He essentially created the peanut gallery.

When the professor asked again, “What does manic mean?,” both students raised their hands in unison. It was hysterical.

–From John Schrier, University of Maryland School of Law, Date of event: 1980

The discussion of Socratic moments reminded me of a funny moment during Contracts I with Professor Young, back in 1980 at University of Maryland–Baltimore. Professor Young was grilling my classmate and apartment-mate on the facts of one case or another, trying to elicit some of the more basic principles of how a court will interpret the terms of a contract.

Having observed my buddy on a date the preceding evening, it came as no surprise that he was less than fully informed about the case under discussion. Pressing the point that contract terms will be construed against the drafting party, the professor asked: “And please tell us, Mr. F., who did draft the contract?”

While my apartment-mate was struggling to think of the answer, I couldn’t resist joking to another classmate, “The lawyers.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t expected that my desperate apartment-mate would overhear my joke and blurt it out in class as the answer to the question! He got a loud roar from the class and I got bathroom-cleaning duty for a week.

–From Debby Toland, University of Oklahoma College of Law, Date of event: circa 1983

It was Income Tax I in the fifth semester of law school. I was sitting in Professor’s Teselle’s class, totally and utterly clueless as to: (1) Why was I in law school?; and (2) Why in god’s name was I in a tax class?

Of course, on that day the worse thing that could happen in tax class did happen. I was called on to answer a question. And, of course, it was a question that I had absolutely no idea how to answer.

The question was: “If a client came to you asking XXXX (X = some arcane question on the tax code) … what would be your advice?” In my best and most professional voice, I said: “I would acknowledge that the question was an interesting one outside my realm of expertise and refer them to Mr. Phillips who offices next door and who specializes in that area (in this case, my seat mate). Luckily Professor Teselle laughed and turned and said “Mr. Phillips, so how would YOU answer the question?” Needless to say Mr. Phillips was not as appreciative of my wit as were the professor and the rest of the class!

P.S. I did pass the course and have employed CPAs heavily from that day forward!

–From Susan M. Harrelson, UNLV School of Law, Date of event: Summer 1999

Although I was responsible for my own share of funny law school moments, the best one I ever heard happened to a friend. During Property I, the professor was going all out, writing on the board: O conveys to A for life, and then to B and the heirs of his body, but if B ever drinks alcohol in a barn, then to C, D, X, Y and Z, etc.

When called upon to answer, “Who owns Blackacre?” my classmate asked, “May I please buy a vowel?”

–From Caleb K. Aguillard, Louisiana State University Law Center, Date of event: Fall 2003

My story is from the fall semester of 2003. As it was my first semester, my section was taking Criminal Law and happened to be involved in a complicated discussion of sexual assault. In the instant case, it was explained to us that while perpetrating the crime in question, the would-be perpetrator was unable to “perform.” One of the more intelligent 1Ls in our class asked if that could be considered attempt. Seizing the moment, another chimed in, “Wouldn’t that be like pulling the trigger of an unloaded gun?” But before the stunned class could react, our professor replied, “Oh, it was loaded, just not cocked.”

McClurg footnote: Obviously, there’s nothing funny about sexual assault. The professor’s remark doesn’t strike me as making light of the crime, but let me know if you feel otherwise.

–From Robert Campbell, Pacific Coast University McGeorge School of Law, Date of event: 2002

A funny Socratic moment occurred in our California Community Property course, when a classmate was briefing Boggs v. Boggs 520 U.S. 833 (1997).

Parties to the litigation were Sandra Boggs, widow of Isaac Boggs, and Isaac’s sons, Thomas F. Boggs, Harry M. Boggs, and David B. Boggs, who were the offspring of Issac Boggs and his first wife, Dorothy Boggs, also deceased.

This case held that ERISA preempts a state’s community-property law which might otherwise allow a non-participant spouse to make a testamentary transfer of an interest in an undistributed pension plan.

After an analysis of the facts, issues, rules and applications, our classmate was getting to the end of his recitation and declared, with relief: “In conclusion, Boggs won!”