I'm participating in Michael Madison and Devan Desai's mobblog over at Madisonian.net, where they're having a conversation on “What kind of institution do we
want a law school to be?” Some pretty interesting stuff already, from Erwin Chemerinsky, among many others, much on what law schools should be teaching. I take a different approach in my first entry, which is cross-posted below....
The institution I’d like is, well, perhaps pretty close to the ones
we already have–something like a mini university, or maybe it’s better
analogized to a liberal arts college. Either way, it’s an institution
that has people with expertise across a wide spectrum–from hard-core
law subjects (obviously) to economics, philosophy,
sociology/anthropology, literature, history, and business (accounting)
and some other areas like quantitative methods. A law school faculty of
thirty people can cover a whole lot of intellectual terrain. And one of
the great treats of being a part of a law school community is the
opportunity to learn from very smart people who’re expert in
neighboring fields, or maybe even fields that are a few miles down the
road from my patch.
A virtue of teaching in law schools is that you have the opportunity
to interact on a daily basis with people of differing expertise and
talents. Although I do not write in criminal law or jurisprudence or
economics, I am constantly exposed to the insights from colleagues who
do. This must be what it’s like to be on the faculty of a liberal arts
college, where there are relatively few (if any) people in your area of
expertise but you learn from smart people in other disciplines. It also
requires us as faculty to stay current in more areas than you’d
typically expect of faculty in a university department. My friends who
teach in history departments typically teach something like American
history from Revolution through Civil War and some allied courses
(like, oh, the old South, Jacksonian America, and the coming of the
Civil War). Yet, law faculty will typically teach in several distinct
areas. There’s something exciting about keeping up with the latest in
equity and civil procedure, as well as trusts and estates, even though
it is time consuming. You have the chance to show your students the
ways that what we study is connected. Law school education has become
what college was in the 1950s and 1960s (and what it still is at elite
colleges and universities and maybe the honors programs at a lot of
other schools)–a great general education in writing and reasoning.
And so as the students get all the benefits of introductions to the
latest in theory and practice, we as faculty get the pleasure of seeing
that from our colleagues. I think that makes us better rounded. And
while it’s a favorite past-time of law faculty to decry how bad legal
scholarship is, it also has a lot of virtues. Often it’s engaged with
contemporary problems and often it draws upon many disciplines comes
from the fact that it’s produced in law schools rather than arts and
sciences departments. Some of my favorite legal academic literature,
like Robert Cover’s Justice Accused: Antislavery and the Judicial Process and Morton Horwitz’ Transformation of American Law, 1780-1860,
integrate law with other disciplines–history and philosophy in Cover’s
case and history and economics in Horwitz’ case. I’m not sure that
literature could be produced in a traditional history department–and I
think history departments are a lot more open to innovation than a lot
of departments. Basically, law schools foster broad and engaged work.
I guess this was driven home to me a few years back when I read the
NYU Law School magazine and I thought, wow, this place has a huge and
extraordinary faculty, “It’s a mini university!” And in hindsight, I
think, maybe not even mini, maybe just university.
Now, how might we encourage more of this? That’s a subject for another day!
Alfred Brophy