Section 5. (c) The Correctness of Testimony.
The training of the witness
into a capacityfor truth-telling must
be based, (1) on the judge's knowledge of all the conditions that
affect, negatively, correct observations and reproductions; (2)
on his making clear to himself whether and which conditions are
operative in the case in question; and (3) on his aiming to eliminate
this negative influence from the witness. The last is in many cases
difficult, but not impossible. That mistakes have been made is
generally soon noted, but then, "being called and being chosen"
are two things; and similarly, the
discovery of what is correct and
the substitution of the essential observations for the opinionative
ones, is always the most difficult of the judge's tasks.
When the witness is both unwilling to tell the truth and unable
to do so, the business of training may be approached from a few
common view-points. Patience with the witness is perhaps the
most important key to success. No doubt it is difficult to be patient
where there is no time; and what with our contemporary overtasking,
there is no time. But that must be altered. Justice must
have strength to keep everybody's labor proportional to his task.
A nation whose representatives do not grant money enough for this
purpose must not expect satisfactory law courts—"no checkee no
washee;" no money no justice. People who have time will acquire
patience.
Patience is necessary above all while taking evidence. A great
many witnesses are accustomed to say much and redundantly,
and again, most criminal justices are accustomed to try to shut
them off and to require brief statements. That is silly. If the
witness is wandering on purpose, as many a prisoner does for definite
reasons of his own, he will spread himself still more as he recognizes
that his examiner does not like it. To be disagreeable is his purpose.
He is never led by impatience beyond his introduction, and some
piece of evidence is lost because almost every accused who speaks
unintelligibly on purpose, says too much in the course of his speech
and brings things to light that no effort might otherwise have attained
to. Besides, whoever is making a purposely long-winded
testimony does not want to say anything superfluous, and if he
actually does so, is unaware of it. And even when he knows that
he is talking too much (most of the time he knows it from the impatient
looks of his auditors), he never can tell just what exceeded
the measure. If, then, he is asked to cut it short, he remains unmoved,
or at most begins again at the beginning, or, if he actually condescends,
he omits things of importance, perhaps even of the utmost
importance. Nor must it be forgotten that at least a large proportion
of such people who are brought to court have prepared their
story or probably blocked it out in the rough. If they are not permitted
to follow their plans, they get confused, and nothing coherent
or half-coherent is discovered. And generally those who say most
have thought their testimony over before. Those who merely have
to say no more than
yes
and
no at the trial do not reduce the little
they are going to say to any great order; that is done only by such
as have a story to tell. Once the stream of talk breaks loose it is
best allowed to flow on, and only then interrupted with appropriate
questions when it threatens to become exhausting. Help against too
much talk can be found in one direction. But it must be made
use of before the evil begins, and is in any event of use only in the
description of a long chain of events,—e. g., a great brawl. There,
if one has been put in complete possession of the whole truth, through
one or more witnesses, the next witness may be told: "Begin where
X entered the room." If that is not done, one may be compelled
to hear all the witness did the day before the brawl and how these
introductions, in themselves indifferent, have led to the event.
But if you set the subject, the witness simply abandons the first
part of possibly studied testimony without thereby losing his
coherence. The procedure may be accurately observed: The witness
is told, "Begin at this or that point." This deliverance is
generally followed by a pause during which he obviously reviews
and sets aside the part of his prepared speech dealing with the events
preliminary to the required points. If, however, the setting of a
starting point does not work and the witness says he must begin
at the earlier stage, let him do so. Otherwise he tries so hard to
begin according to request that, unable to go his own way, he confuses
everything.
The patience required for taking testimony is needful also in
cross-examination. Not only children and slow-witted folk, but
also bright persons often answer only "yes" and
"no,"
[1] and these
bare answers demand a patience most necessary with just this bareness,
if the answers are to be pursued for some time and consecutively.
The danger of impatience is the more obvious inasmuch as
everyone recognizes more or less clearly that he is likely to set the
reserved witness suggestive questions and so to learn things that the
witness never would have said. Not everybody, indeed, who makes
monosyllabic replies in court has this nature, but in the long run,
this common characteristic is manifest, and these laconic people
are really not able to deliver themselves connectedly in long speeches.
If, then, the witness has made only the shortest replies and a coherent
well-composed story be made of them, the witness will,
when his testimony is read to him, often not notice the untruths
it might contain. He is so little accustomed to his own prolonged
discourse that at most he wonders at his excellent speech without
noticing even coarse falsehoods. If, contrary to expectation, he
does notice them, he is too chary of words to call attention to them,
assents, and is glad to see the torture coming to an end. Hence,
nothing but endless patience will do to bring the laconic witness
to say at least enough to make his information coherent, even
though brief. It may be presented in this form for protocol.
[[1]]
Pathological conditions, if at all distinct, are easily recognizable, but
there
is a very broad and fully occupied border country between pathological and
normal
conditions. (Cf. O. Gross: Die Affeklage der Ablehnung. Monatschrift für
Psychiatrie
u. Neurologie, 1902, XII, 359.)