Socratic Method? So What?!

Law school education in the United States is typically characterized by the pedagogical technique known as the Socratic Method. Rather than lecturing to students on the holding and reasoning of judicial opinions they read in advance of class, professors instead ask questions of students in order to get them to tease out the details of the opinions themselves. Under the quintessential form of the Socratic Method, students do not volunteer to answer questions. Rather, students are liable to be called upon by the professor, at any time, without warning. While some professors spread their attention around the room, asking multiple students only a few questions each, others spend virtually the entire class period grilling one unlucky victim.

The main justification for the Socratic Method is that its prepares law students for practice, since attorneys appearing before a court need to think on their feet and answer any question a judge throws before them. The random, unsolicited nature of the cold-calling encourages students to thoroughly prepare for class, lest they founder or get called out by their professor in front of all their classmates. The Socratic Method is also recognized as a hazing ritual that all law students must undergo in order to be initiated into the esteemed fraternity of attorneys.

When I started law school as a 1L, the Socratic Method was scary. You dreaded being the person who was called upon and you dreaded even more being the person who stumbled through a case because you hadn't understood it, or (gasp!) hadn't even read it. You wanted to succeed, you wanted to do the best you could, you wanted to prove you were worthy, and you wanted the professor to approve of your insight and your effort.

In the final semester of my final year, the Socratic Method has become tiresome. When a classmate is called upon to explain the potential separation of powers violation in a given federal statutory scheme, I zone out. I really don't need to hear one of my classmates stumble through the analysis while the professor prompts (or misleads) them with follow-up questions. When the professor is engaged with one student, he isn't engaged with the other 79. Similarly, when it's my turn to answer, I know that nobody else is really paying attention, and if I do screw things up, I know that nobody really cares. I'm well past the supposed insecurities upon which the Socratic Method relies. And if someone at this point does experience joy at a classmate's struggles under Socratic pressure, they need to reexamine their priorities in life.

You don't become a 3L without being able to handle the Socratic Method. At this point, there's nothing to left to prove. I'm no longer afraid of any of my professors. I don't live in fear of humiliating myself in front of fellow students, since I know that like myself, they don't really care either. Professors need to just drop the charade when teaching upperclassmen and instead either just lecture or ask for volunteers. If they get a room full of blank stares with no hands raised when they ask a question, they need to examine their teaching style. The Socratic Method is a great way to motivate and indoctrinate new students, but by the time they've reached their third year, the Socratic Method has long since outlived its usefulness.