What do lawyers fear the most? Spiders, snakes, public speaking, death by auto de fe?
Well, I’ll be darned if I know, but one thing that scares the bejesus out of all thinking lawyers is waiver. Lawyers start to become vaguely aware of this horror in law school. Once they go out into practice it slowly dawns on them that it’s ultimately undefinable, that it lurks behind every legal shrub and tree, that opposing counsel will throw it in your face when you least expect it and long after you can fix it, and that if they don’t a court may do so on its own initiative. In its most severe forms it can lead to bankruptcy, scandal, and even malpractice (apologies to Jimmy Stewart).
Take a simple summary judgment motion in federal court. Unbeknownst to the novice lawyer, this process is fraught with dangers. The defendant files the motion. You file an opposition. The defendant files a reply affidavit introducing new facts. You lose the motion, and on appeal you argue that it was inappropriate for the defendant to introduce new facts in its reply. You
cite the “no new facts” rule. After all, you were sandbagged by that reply, and the court shouldn’t have relied upon it.
Not so fast, the First Circuit recently held on these facts – did you raise this with the district court and object to the new evidence? If not you have waived the right to raise this on appeal. Desrosiers v. Hartford Life (2008). You lose.
A simple, one page motion to strike that could have been drafted and filed in an hour would have saved the day. For want of a nail …
Waiver, one of the most dreaded words a lawyer can hear. And so it goes.