Why Lawyers Are Better Communicators Than Engineers

Recently, the question was posed to me as to why I thought lawyers are better communicators than engineers. While this is a short paper and based solely upon my personal experiences, these opinions will provide realistic theorems for the questions presented.

I am not a bona fide engineer; nonetheless, my B.S. degree’s curriculum required me to study a substantial number of engineering courses. Furthermore, my career experience as a construction manager was in the capacity of an engineer while closely working with licensed professional engineers. Thus, I have a solid understanding of how engineers learn and work.

At the university, both law students and engineering students are taught “theory.” That is to say, the students’ education teaches them the set of rules, law, principles, etc., within which the students are confined to solve problems. The students may avail themselves to a few “real world” courses, such as surveying, clinical law practice, or internships and clerkships. Thus, at first glance, law students and engineering students are taught in a virtually identical manner.

However, a day spent at law school and a day spent at engineering school would reveal stark differences in teaching styles between the two schools. It is my opinion that these differences are what make lawyers much better communicators than engineers.

In engineering school, students are exposed to and learn many formulas. The students apply the formulas to the problems posed to the students. A student’s performance is judged by whether the student used the correct formula to achieve the correct result. Thus, in a simple sense, the student is expected to recognize what facts require the use of a particular formula, apply the formula to the facts, and get a result.

In law school, the students also are exposed to and learn many formulas. While the formulas are not mathematical formulas, they are formulas that the students apply to the facts to judge whether a “correct” result was achieved. As in engineering school, the law student is required to recognize what facts require the use of a particular formula, apply the formula to the facts, and get a result. In law school, the professor is concerned with achieving a valid result; however, the professor is equally concerned with why the student arrived at that result. The law professor uses variations of the Socratic teaching method to help students communicate the reasons why they chose a formula and arrived at a result. My experience was that the engineering professor did not use the Socratic method or any variation of it.

From my personal experiences, the Socratic method is the most effective way to teach understanding of a subject, and the Socratic method also requires the student to develop communication skills. It is not a teaching method that “nurtures” a student; rather, it is a teaching method that requires the pupil to be a disciplined student of the subject. That is a good thing. For purposes of this brief article, the following discussion of the Socratic method details my personal experiences in law school as it compared to my experiences in engineering school.

The Socratic method demands extensive teacher–student interaction. The teacher should (1) not be unprepared; (2) be very prepared; (3) never give an outright compliment to a student who can match the professor’s reasoning; (4) never lose control of the class; and (5) teach that rational thought must be the basis for a sound opinion.

The Socratic method starts by the students sitting in the classroom where they want to, usually by friends. Within a week’s time, the professor should state that the seats they have chosen will be their seats for the remainder of the semester, and the professor makes a seating chart so that the professor can readily identify students and whether they are in attendance.

Each day, the professor questions the class as to the previous day’s assignment, usually a series of cases to read and summarize. After some initial questions, it is apparent whether the questioned student has done the homework. Depending upon the professor, the extent to which the student’s lack of preparation is announced to the class may be a source of great motivation for the students to be prepared. If the questioned student cannot answer, the teacher immediately questions the student sitting adjacent to the other student. The idea here is that the students will be friends and that if one causes the other to be questioned, there will be incentive to be prepared the next time so as not to cause embarrassment to yourself or extra work, etc., for the friend. Quizzes are always a great threat to hang over the students: “if you are not prepared, you will be quizzed.”

As previously mentioned, the engineering curriculums seem to me to mostly concentrate on the conclusion, or on the correct answer to a problem. While the correct answer to a problem is of obvious importance, so is how the student arrived at the answer. By requiring the student to reason through a problem, the student is required to explain and communicate, under pressure, as to why she worked the problem as she did.

The reason I think that the engineering curriculums concentrate too much on conclusions comes from my experience at law school, and from the experiences of other engineers/lawyers I know. An answer, whether right or wrong, is a conclusion, almost an opinion. Moreover, any person can conclude or opine. Experience tells us that even the most accurately instinctive person will be thought of as well spoken if he can give the reason for his opinion. One who merely rattles off conclusions can be abrasive or offensive, due to the misunderstandings caused by the concluder’s lack of providing satisfactory reasons. Thus, while I could always see where the outcome of the case would likely end up, I had difficulties reasoning the outcome. My thoughts were only about the answer or conclusion, and I had no thoughts about the facts that composed the reasons for my conclusions; therefore, it was difficult to explain the position I took.

Of course, this problem is not unique to engineers. Yet, engineers tend to rely extensively upon formulas of those who have written them previously. They use the formulas as processors to achieve results, but may not be able to explain how the processors work. By being required to explain how the processor produces the results, the student will have to know the component parts of the processor, and as a consequence, will also learn more advanced presentation and communication skills.

A Socratic session in an engineering class might sound like this:

Teacher: “What is the answer?”

Student: “It is xyz.”

Teacher: “And why is it xyz?”

Student: “It is xyz because….”

Teacher: “But what happens if y is replaced by the two components a and b, and b cannot be mixed with z?”

Student: “In that case, I suggest…. or….”

Teacher: “That may work, but…. ”

It becomes an ongoing exchange, one in which the student is designed to almost always fail, or only slightly succeed. There is a sense of military training here—tear them down, build them up the way you want them.

Thus, in a nutshell, I see the Socratic system as ambitious, dependent upon the facts of a case, forward looking but also introspective and rational. It requires the student to explain how and why she arrived at her conclusion. By adapting and applying the Socratic method to engineering curriculums, the students would be forced to explain and communicate their intuitive conclusions and opinions and thereby become more effective communicators.