What Judges Wish Your Associates Knew About Legal Writing

As Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg once observed, “lucid, well-ordered writing can contribute immeasurably to a lawyer’s success.” True enough. But what does “lucid” mean in practice? What does “well-ordered” look like on the page?

Through my Legal Writing Advisory Panel—a group of prominent judges and elite advocates—I’ve gathered survey data on exactly what the best legal readers expect. The results reveal a persistent gap between the way many associates write and the way judges and top advocates read.

When associates are unaware of preferences, they produce work that looks competent but lands poorly. The tone grates. The language feels stale. The emphasis scatters. Judges and clients skim rather than read and think.

Many firms treat this as a seniority problem—associates will figure it out over time. But “over time” means years of briefs that underperform and clients who wonder why motions fail.

Gap 1: Word choice under pressure

Here’s a test. You want to characterize an opposing argument as weak. Which word do you choose?

I asked our panelists to pick the most effective ending for the sentence “That argument is ______.” The options: “flawed,” “misguided,” “absurd,” “disingenuous,” and “nonsensical.”

The winner, by a wide margin: “flawed.” Nearly three-quarters (73%) chose it.

Why? Because “flawed” is precise without being theatrical. It signals confidence. The other options—especially “disingenuous” and “absurd”—signal something else: that the writer is working too hard to persuade.

As one panelist noted, aggressive language like “nonsensical” can sometimes work, but only when an argument truly is absurd. When everything in a brief is “clearly wrong” or “patently frivolous,” nothing is. The writer loses credibility by overclaiming.

Many associates were never taught this explicitly. They think forceful language shows conviction. Judges and top advocates know it often shows weakness—if not desperation.

Gap 2: The words judges are sick of reading

We asked panelists which words and phrases they were tired of seeing. The list was long and specific.

Legalisms they want retired: “hereinafter,” “herein,” “therein,” “pursuant to,” “subsequent to,” “prior to,” “it is axiomatic that,” “it is well established that.”

Overused intensifiers: “clearly,” “simply,” “plainly,” “as such.”

Hyperbolic attacks: “falls flat,” “flies in the face of,” “fatally flawed,” “Orwellian.”

Misused or grating terms: “conflated,” “impact” (as a verb), “impactful,” “gifted” (instead of “gave”), “bespoke,” “tasked,” “utilize.”

One phrase drew particular scorn: “cries out for the Court’s review.”

These are not obscure preferences. These are the words that make experienced readers wince—and many associates use them constantly because no one has told them to stop. Law school often rewards pomposity. The profession rewards precision.

Gap 3: Defined terms as cognitive tax

Associates often overuse defined terms. Judges often experience them as friction. Follow the advice of Justice Kagan, who once referred to “Ford Motor Company” as . . . “Ford.” How about that? No defined term, and yet no one was confused!

One panelist was blunt: “I prefer to avoid such definitions when the term is familiar (e.g., FBI) or is obvious (e.g., just one bank is being discussed).” Another: “Very rarely define terms and don’t need to use quotation marks when doing so.”

Defined terms increase cognitive load. They force the reader to track arbitrary abbreviations instead of following the argument. When an associate writes “Defendant Smith (‘Smith’)” in a case involving only one defendant, the judge notices—and not favorably. When a brief spews “(‘the Agreement’ or, alternatively, ‘the Contract’)” in paragraph one, the reader is already dreading what’s to come.

Gap 4: Typography as noise

Associates often over-format to create emphasis. Judges and top advocates find it distracting.

In our survey, 76% of panelists said they accept occasional emphasis in bold or italics—but only if used sparingly. When forced to choose between italics and bold, 77% prefer italics. Underlining is dated. ALL CAPS is hated.

The Seventh Circuit’s Practitioner’s Handbook For Appeals puts it this way: “You can improve your chances by making your briefs typographically superior. It won’t make your arguments better, but it will ensure that judges grasp and retain your points with less struggle.” 

Gap 5: The small things that signal carelessness

Judge Raymond Kethledge of the Sixth Circuit made the point memorably: “A lawyer who is careless about typos or formatting is usually careless about substance as well. Filing a brief with these mistakes is like walking up to the podium with stains on your shirt.”

Details matter more than associates realize. In our panel, 88% of judges and advocates insist on the Oxford comma. Fifty-four percent prefer a single space after periods. These are small things—until they spill over into an impression of sloppiness.

Judges often struggle to ignore errors in briefs. Such mistakes undermine credibility and suggest carelessness on the merits. Associates who treat proofreading as someone else’s job are damaging their own arguments before the substance is even considered.

Gap 6: Tone calibration

Contractions are a useful example of the calibration problem. We asked panelists whether contractions belong in briefs. The consensus: it depends.

“Fine for informal briefs (such as in motion practice) but don’t use them in appellate briefs,” one judge said. Another: “Contractions are perfectly acceptable when the tone of the brief is conversational. But I don’t use them for formal or more serious submissions.”

The point is not that contractions are good or bad. The point is that tone requires judgment—and associates often lack the instinct for when to dial up formality and when to ease it. They default to stiff because stiff feels safe. But stiff is not always professional. Sometimes it is just unreadable.

Why this matters to managing partners

The gap between associate training and judicial expectations creates three problems for firms.

First, credibility risk. Every brief that lands poorly reflects on the firm, not just the associate. Judges remember. Opposing counsel notices.

Second, supervision cost. Partners spend hours fixing problems associates do not know they are creating. That is senior time absorbed by work that should have been right the first time—the same reconstruction tax I described in my last column.

Third, development lag. If associates do not know what judges and top advocates actually want, they cannot improve. They repeat the same mistakes for years, wondering why their briefs never land.

Four things you can do next Monday:

1. Circulate the tired-words list. Print the list of phrases judges and advocates are sick of reading—”hereinafter,” “pursuant to,” “utilize,” “clearly,” “simply,” “falls flat”—and post it where associates draft. Avoidance becomes habit faster than you think.
2. Teach the “flawed” principle. When characterizing weak arguments, restrained language beats aggressive language. Share the survey result: 73% of judges and top advocates prefer “flawed” to “absurd,” “disingenuous,” or “nonsensical.” Make it a default.
3. Audit defined terms. Review your last five briefs. Count the defined terms. Ask whether each one was necessary. In most briefs, half can be cut without any loss of clarity—and significant gain in readability.
4. Put guardrails where associates draft. Use checklists, templates, and (where appropriate) drafting tools that surface judge-facing preferences—word choice, tired phrases, defined-term discipline, and formatting—before a draft reaches a partner. 

Bottom line

Your associates are good writers. But they are undertrained—trained for law school exams, not for judges and senior litigators and advocates. That gap risks your firm’s credibility, supervision time, and client outcomes. Fill it now.