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MEDIA REVIEWS On Bull----, On Truth Reviewed by James W. Paulsen and Mark A. Correro Books written by professional philosophers are not common fare for most readers of The Houston Lawyer, and for good reason. Practicing attorneys, like practicing philosophers, may search for truth—but at different levels of abstraction, with different motives, and perhaps with different results in mind. That may be one reason why two short books by Princeton emeritus philosophy professor (and one-time lecturer at the Yale Law School) Harry G. Frankfurt deserve a close look. The first, On Bull----,1 was published in 2005 to great critical acclaim and an appearance at the top of the New York Times nonfiction best-seller list, not to mention a guest slot for the author on Comedy Central’s Daily Show. The equally interesting sequel, On Truth, came out in 2006 to considerably less fanfare. Both books are extraordinarily well written. For those put off by philosophy-talk, consider just the first paragraph or so of On BS:
Many lawyers and judges could benefit from reading Professor Frankfurt’s work, if for no other reason than to copy his style. An undeniable part of On BS’s appeal is the naughty thrill a reader gets from seeing the BS word sprinkled liberally through a work of academic prose. Packaging also has something to do with the book’s success. Originally written as an academic essay two decades earlier (and something of a cult classic within its field), On BS’s new-found popularity in a wider market surely has something to do with its shirt pocket size (literally – we checked) and mass market appearance: a sedate black cover with dark-red highlights and silver lettering. It’s a bit of a letdown to open the book and discover it actually carries a serious message. The message—and this is a book for which revealing the ending does not spoil the “read”—consists of both a definition and an evaluation of BS. Frankfurt defines BS mostly by comparison and contrast with lies. BS comes out worse. A liar must recognize, and even have some respect for, truth. A BS’er simply does not care. As Frankfurt puts it, “It is just this lack of connection to a concern with truth—this indifference to how things really are—that is the essence of [BS].”2 So, if one assumes truth matters, “[BS] is a greater enemy of the truth than lies are.”3 For the most part, Frankfurt makes his points without reference to current events or authority figures (the book has only nine footnotes), though St. Augustine, Wittgenstein, Roscoe Pound, Eric Ambler and the Oxford English Dictionary make cameo appearances. Toward the end, though, Professor Frankfurt permits himself a couple of delicately worded observations on contemporary society. As partial answer to the question, “Why is there so much [BS]?,” Frankfurt points to the complexity of the modern world and the propensity of public figures to “speak extensively about matters of which they are to some degree ignorant.”4 Similarly, private citizens are expected to have, and express, opinions on a wide range of public issues. Some private citizens (readers of this review can fill in the blanks) even believe it their “responsibility, as . . . conscious moral agent[s], to evaluate persons and conditions in all parts of the world.”5 Another BS-generator, to Frankfurt, is various forms of “antirealist” skepticism. While Frankfurt again avoids naming names, the reviewers suspect the list might include many postmodernists and moral relativists. Closer to home, legally speaking, culprits might include critical legal theorists and their ilk. Frankfurt suggests these skeptics, convinced that reality has no inherent nature but seeking some stability, turn inward: “It is as though he decides that since it makes no sense to try to be true to the facts, he must therefore try instead to be true to himself.”6 Viewed this way, the book’s last words make sense: At least in some contexts, “sincerity itself is [BS]”7—and not just because Frankfurt sincerely believes that to be so. On Truth, the less celebrated but equally interesting sequel, picks up where On BS leaves off. We mean this literally. Unlike the attention-grabbing opener of On BS, the first sentence of On Truth explicitly references the first book, then recaps its central points. Professor Frankfurt then explains that after publication, he came to realize he “had failed to explain why indifference to truth, which I had claimed to be distinctive of [BS], is such a bad thing.”8 On Truth offers a lucid explanation why (to use Professor Frankfurt’s words), “the love of truth, as professed by so many distinguished thinkers and writers,” is “merely another example of [BS].”9 In the process of doing so, he comes much closer to naming names. Enemies of truth and practitioners of plagiarism are found in the ranks of award-winning authors, reporters for leading newspapers, historians, biographers, and even philosophers who, Frankfurt notes, “of all people might reasonably have been counted on to know better.”10 And then there are the postmodernists, or as Frankfurt describes them: “[t]hese shameless antagonists of common sense.”11 Or (these reviewers’ favorite) those who indulge in the “shabby, narcissistic pretense that being true to the facts is less important than being ‘true to oneself.’”12 Fighting words notwithstanding, On Truth is first and foremost a careful and accessible exposition of why truth should matter to just about everyone. Frankfurt starts from simple building blocks: “No one in his right mind would rely on a builder, or submit to the care of a physician, who does not care about the truth.”13 He proceeds by easy steps to some less obvious conclusions, such as the close relationship between truth and love, and love of truth, as well as some interesting speculation on why we feel more “violated” when lied to than when merely BS’d. Ultimately, Frankfurt says, “It is only through our recognition of a world of stubbornly independent reality, fact, and truth that we come both to recognize ourselves as beings distinct from others and to articulate the specific nature of our own identities.”14 In this intellectual journey, we are introduced to another eclectic cast of characters: Kant, Montaigne, Georges Clemenceau, and an extended guest appearance by the seventeenth-century Dutch-Portuguese-Jewish philosopher, Baruch Spinoza. Though On Truth pulls fewer punches than On BS (quite possibly in belated recognition of the limited scope for subtlety possible with a lay audience), Professor Frankfurt never abandons the understated humor and unexpected turns of thought that set his writing apart from other works in the genre. He notes that his arguments should not be taken to extremes. A conversation with a liar is not devoid of all value; to the contrary, “some real value may come through, and the entertainment value of the conversation might even be increased.”15 Frankfurt even offers Doctor Ruth-style relationship advice: Playing off one of Shakespeare’s sonnets, he speculates that an affair between just the right two lying lovers “must be wonderfully delicious” and suggests to readers so inclined: “Go for it!”16 On BS and On Truth should interest any educated person. The themes appeal to anyone concerned with modern social trends, and are of particular interest to any attorney who cares to engage in introspection on nature and goals of legal advocacy. Either book can be read during a 90-minute plane flight; several passages contain enough intellectual meat to reflect on at length. One small problem with On BS is its title. Though undeniably an act of marketing genius, the title alone reportedly kept the book off Wal-Mart’s shelves (but not off the store’s web site). Fortunately, the book is small enough that the title can be obscured by a well-placed finger while one reads it in a public place, and handsome enough for the more daring reader to display in an office waiting area. On Truth has a more highbrow title, but a less attractive cover. These reviewers, at least, find On Truth’s faux-gold cover with black typescript somehow less “sincere” than On BS. Price is no object. On BS originally retailed in bookstores for $9.95, On Truth for $12.50. Oddly (or perhaps not so oddly, given some of Professor Frankfurt’s observations), On BS is maintaining its original sales price on Amazon.com, while On Truth has been reduced to $10.00. Whether this establishes that there’s only a nickel’s worth of difference between BS and truth in the American mass market is a subject best left for another occasion. Either way, these books are highly recommended. Professor James W. Paulsen teaches at the South Texas College of Law. Mark A. Correro is an associate with Greenberg Traurig and a 2004 graduate of the South Texas College of Law. Both are members of The Houston Lawyer editorial board. Endnotes
Ivy Briefs: True Tales of a Neurotic Law Student By Martha Kimes A graduate of the University of Wisconsin and Columbia University Law School, Martha Kimes is a lawyer by day and a blogger at www.therandommuse.com by night. Her first book, entitled Ivy Briefs: True Tales of a Neurotic Law Student, is about her struggles and adventures through three years at Columbia University Law School. Ivy Briefs is the modern One L, but covering all three years and told from a married woman’s perspective. I suspect that Ivy Briefs will soon join One L as “required” reading of every law-student-to-be. Kimes’ tale begins at the University of Wisconsin as she learns of her acceptance to Columbia University Law School, the only law school to which she applied. Her tale ends on her first day of work at a prestigious New York City law firm that reminded her of her 1L days three years earlier. The tales in between are the heart of the book. The book is being marketed as a One L meets Legally Blonde memoir. Instead of going in rich and clueless, and coming out smart, with empathy for non-profit work, Kimes enters Columbia as a poor, intelligent Midwesterner in awe of the big city, and leaves as an entitled, big firm lawyer with disdain for the non-profit world. That is not to say that Kimes didn’t overcome her entitled sense of greed: she eventually left the big firm life to become in-house counsel for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. I enjoyed the book and its fluid prose. Kimes relates her emotions in an authentic and honest way. Despite graduating with honors from a top-five law school, Kimes tells of her law school classes, friends, fellow students, and summer jobs in a self-deprecating, witty manner that gives the reader a good look into a modern law school career. I still would not classify Kimes as having the average law school experience, just as I had to discount Scott Turow’s account in One L. Most law students don’t go to a top-five, Ivy League school in the heart of New York City, clerk for a federal district judge in their first summer and an elite New York City law firm in their second summer, work on a law school journal as the second-in-command, travel to Paris for a week during their third year of law school, and graduate with honors. Although Kimes’ self-doubt and worries will seem real and familiar to the average law student, in the end, the distinction between her career and that of the average law student is vast. That distinction, however, does not make her story any less real or inviting to read. The characters in her book include the stereotypical Boarding School B------, the Gunner, the Show Off, the Self-Righteous Do-Gooder, and the Sadistic Professor. The story also proves the conventional wisdom that the first year of law school scares you to death, the second year works you to death, and the third year bores you to death. In the Author’s Note that begins the book, Kimes acknowledges that while “[t]his memoir is based on real events, and the essence of this book is true,” she “combined some characters and altered the chronology of events in order to organize the narrative. Certain details were fictionalized, and some specific dialogue was exaggerated.” She acknowledges that some of the dialogue was invented altogether because the people she knew in law school “weren’t always as amusing as [she] would have liked.” Any time an author has to give that sort of disclaimer, I immediately become suspect and distrustful of the truthfulness of the story. Although I ended the book feeling as though I had received a generally accurate recollection of Kimes’ law school experience, I couldn’t help wondering what parts and characters were actually true! I look forward to the day when a book publisher decides to publish a memoir of an average student at a mid-tier law school who does not make law review or graduate with honors. I am convinced that such a memoir could be as entertaining as the two Ivy League memoirs available to the public. Until then, Ivy Briefs will be the modern account that every law student will come to devour. Benjamin K. Sanchez is a principal in The Sanchez Law Firm. He is a member of The Houston Lawyer editorial board.
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