On the plaintiff side, we often have to prove a lot in order to win. If we miss one point, we lose. It’s like building a house: if you take a single brick out of the foundation, the whole house becomes unstable and falls. Game over.
That isn’t how it works on the defense side, where in some cases it takes only knocking a single brick out of place to win. Clement “Clem” Glynn was definitely good enough to do that, but he didn’t.
DuPont goes to great lengths to indoctrinate its lawyers into thinking its way. It pays them top dollar and will do things such as wire attorneys’ fees to their accounts immediately upon receipt of bills without question (no matter how outrageous the bills may be) in order to get them to drink the Kool-Aid. And from my perspective, Glynn certainly drank the Kool-Aid. It was also clear to me that Glynn was so in love with this company that he would do anything for them.
One morning I said to Glynn, “Why are you so enamored with your dirtbag client, DuPont?”
Instead of defending the dirtbag comment, he explained to me that this was his best client. He told me that when he sends a bill, they never question it, and within 24 hours, every penny is in his bank account.
Hearing this made sense to me. When you have a company that does bad things as a client, it can’t directly offer its lawyers bribes or anything of an illegal nature, but it can surely do things within the legal limits like paying bills quickly and without question. It’s a tacit sort of love affair.
In my next post, I recount a week of expert witnesses, and the complicated, arduous tasks that a jury must face in order to comprehend all this testimony.
You’ll find much more about the Castillo-DuPont trial, as well as information on my background and my thoughts on aspects of the judicial process, in my book, Blindsided.