This article will explore the art of advocacy in both the courtroom and the boardroom. Advocacy, like restaurants, comes in many styles. At their core, Italian, Chinese, or Greek restaurants all serve good food. All advocacy at its core, serves the purpose of communicating effectively. However, there are many styles of advocacy. I’m going to introduce you to my style of advocacy. I’m not claiming it’s necessarily the best or the only style; it’s just one good approach for you to consider.

Introduction
Whenever I buy something, I look for a brand I can rely on, like choosing Pepsi over Coca-Cola. I'm satisfied if I find what I prefer; if not, I move on. I want you to approach what I’m presenting here similarly. Imagine you’re in a supermarket. Just because they offer you all sorts of things—potatoes, mushrooms, carrots, meat, bread—doesn’t mean you have to buy everything. You choose what’s right for you and leave the rest. Similarly, with what I present here, I’m not asking you to buy everything. Take what resonates with you and feels valuable and leave the rest. I aim to offer you the best I can, but you must decide what is of value to you.

Credentials
You may wonder what qualifies me to speak on this subject. That’s a fair question. To give you some context about where I’m coming from, I’ll share a bit about my background—not to boast, but to help you understand my perspective.

I graduated from UBC Law School in 1972 and began my legal career in Toronto, articling for J.R. Botiuk, a smart but somewhat mercurial lawyer who has now passed on. During my articling years, I worked in criminal, family, and civil law, spending my days in and out of courtrooms. After becoming a lawyer, I practiced in Toronto before moving to New York, where I litigated in the Supreme Court. My first case there, a jury trial involving a mechanics lien, didn’t go well—I lost. But it was a trial by fire, and I learned invaluable lessons. After a few years in New York, I returned to Toronto, where I continued practicing law, primarily as a legal aid lawyer. Later, I moved out West, litigating in Alberta and appearing before the Court of Appeal.

Later, when I moved to Los Angeles, I litigated immigration and small claims cases. Throughout my career, I’ve gained extensive experience in various courts across the U.S. and Canada, including three years as a Canadian Human Rights Commission Tribunal Panel judge. So, I know what it’s like to be an advocate and to judge advocacy.

However, perhaps more relevant to this discussion is my 35 years as a Toastmaster, attending weekly club meetings during which I honed my public speaking skills by giving presentations and receiving feedback. There’s a saying, “Practice makes perfect,” but it’s not true. I believe perfect practice makes perfect. It’s not enough to go to court; you must seek to continually improve as a lawyer and advocate.

A Lifelong Study
Would you believe a French teacher who told you he could teach you French in one hour? I hope not. The same is true for advocacy. Advocacy, like learning a language, is a lifelong study. I’ve practiced for over 35 years and still learn something new daily. I hope you approach it with the same mindset—a willingness to learn and grow.

Levels of Communication
There are different levels of communication. The first is informational: “Where is the washroom? Oh, It’s just down the hall.”—a simple, straightforward exchange. The second is logical and rational, where agreements are made based on mutual understanding, like a contract. It is a ‘meeting of the minds’ that will be familiar from contract law. The third and highest level is communion, where one person’s heart connects with another’s, like the bond between a mother and child or between two lovers—soul mates.

The Difference Between the Spoken and Written Word
There is a big difference between the written and the spoken word.

The written word is a carefully constructed script. It is more polished, specific, and carefully thought out. It’s meant for the eye, engaging readers through carefully chosen words and structured sentences. Writing allows for revision and refinement, making it more formal and precise. It’s like a crafted piece of art, where every detail is considered and presented visually for interpretation. Consider that it really amounts to a miraculous process of the writer making some motes or scribbles on a piece of paper or on a screen that the reader’s eye sees. Then, their brain converts those notes into meaning and possibly feelings.

In contrast, the spoken word is more of a living conversation. It is more colloquial, relaxed, and informal. It’s immediate and dynamic, engaging the listener through sound. When I speak, in what also is a miraculous process, my voice creates sounds that travel through the air to your eardrums, sending signals to your brain that convert them to ideas and emotions. This process is more direct and closer to the emotions, as it happens in real-time and through the ear instead of the eye. Spoken communication is less about exact wording and more about tone, inflection, and the connection between speaker and listener. It’s usually informal, more concise, clear, quick, adaptive, and often abbreviated, allowing for a more natural and spontaneous response.

A great communicator seeks to move from idea to idea, while a written communicator writes out words to be read. When you read words verbally, however, you risk losing your audience. The best approach is to be with your audience, engaging them in a conversation as you would in a casual setting. Why must we become stiff and formal when addressing multiple people? Why can’t we maintain a natural, flowing dialogue without rigidly following a script? We should try to be more conversational in our approach in these settings.

Now, allow me to share a story to challenge the belief that you can write a speech, read it in your most important situations, and be effective. The most important speech I gave was asking my wife to marry me. At that moment, I didn’t pull a piece of paper and read, “Now, Annie … I have something important to ask you.” No! I spoke from my heart to her heart. While we don’t always expect this level of communication in court, it is crucial to understand that the most powerful communication often happens at this deeper, emotional level. At times, it calls for us to think in terms of ideas rather than in terms of text.

Three Trials
Now, allow me to share a story to challenge the belief that you can write a speech, read it in your most important situations, and be effective. The most important speech I gave was asking my wife to marry me. At that moment, I didn’t pull a piece of paper and read, “Now, Annie … I have something important to ask you.” No! I spoke from my heart to her heart. While we don’t always expect this level of communication in court, it is crucial to understand that the most powerful communication often happens at this deeper, emotional level. At times, it calls for us to think in terms of ideas rather than in terms of text.

Lessons From The Greeks
The Greeks taught us that a good presentation must include ethos, logos, and pathos.

Ethos
Ethos refers to ethics or credibility. There’s a saying, “Who you are speaks so loudly I can hardly hear what you’re saying.” People judge you within seconds of starting your presentation. You can say, “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” But the reality is that people do. So, make a good first impression and dress appropriately for the occasion.

Logos
Logos is about logic—making a rational and logical presentation. You aim to be with your audience in a conversation, not just worrying about how you’re being perceived. Eye contact is crucial; it eliminates distance and connects you with your audience.

Four Parts To a Strong Argument
A strong argument has four parts: the introduction, the bridge, the body, and the conclusion.

In the introduction, you must break through the audience’s preoccupation with their own daily concerns. Your aim must be to give them a reason to listen. You must grab their attention. For example, you can grab their attention by sharing a joke or a startling statistic or slamming your hand on the table if you have to.

The bridge answers the question, “Why should I care?” You can make this connection by sharing why the topic matters to you or asking the audience to imagine themselves in your shoes. Use analogies, humour, and examples that resonate with the listener.

The body should contain no more than four or five key points that your audience can absorb. People have limited capacity for information, so focus on what’s most important and summarize the rest. Virtually any topic can be summarized in four or five points.

Finally, the conclusion answers the question, “So what? What do you want me to do about it?” You want a call to action that prompts your audience to act on what you’ve shared.

A logical argument doesn’t always land automatically. Sometimes, you need to pause and let it sink in. If your audience is distracted, regain their attention. Uninterrupted attention is the gold standard of communication. If you’re presenting to a judge and they’re distracted, stop and wait for them to look up. Then start in again. Always pay attention to your audience because communication is a two-way street.

There’s a saying among lawyers: If you have weak facts, argue the law. If you have weak law, argue the facts. This truism is worth considering if you’re ever in court.

Remember, in any argument, there’s almost always a counterargument. You’re not there to argue perfection but to make the best case possible to win. Look for the highest possible compromise among the factors you use to build your argument.

Pathos
The final element is pathos (think of the word ‘pathetic’ to remember it), and it involves emotion—specifically, conviction. Logic alone doesn’t persuade; conviction does. Are you arguing your case because it’s life or death for you? Do you really believe in it? That’s what persuades—conviction and passion.

Conviction comes from thoroughly studying your material, being reasonable about it, and presenting it from the listener's point of view. Never argue purely from your interest. Adam Smith, the economist, illustrated this with the example of a butcher. The butcher doesn't really sell meat because you want it; he sells it because he values your money more than the meat. But he appeals to his customer’s need for food to sell it. Similarly, you must always argue from the perspective of what benefits the listener. Ask yourself, "If I were in their situation, would I agree with this argument?" This mindset helps you believe in what you're arguing because you know it’s in the best interest of the person you’re advocating for.

Conclusion
Let me conclude with a story. A new preacher took over a small-town church and held services in a large tent. On Sunday, only one farmer showed up. The preacher asked, “What do I do? There’s nobody here.” The farmer replied, “I don’t know much about preaching, but I know that when it’s feeding time, I give the food, even if only one cow shows up.” So, the preacher delivered a full sermon, but at the end, the farmer said, “When only one cow shows up, I don’t feed it the whole load.” The same goes for presenting—brevity is the soul of good communication. It’s not what you say but how you say it in the time you have.

Andy J. Semotiuk is a U.S. and Canadian immigration lawyer practicing at Pace Law Firm in Toronto. In his career spanning over four decades, Mr. Semotiuk has appeared in New York, California, Ontario, Alberta and British Columbia courts. For three years, he served as a judge on the Tribunal Panel of the federal Canadian Human Rights Commission. He is also a Distinguished Toastmaster, the highest level in Toastmasters International, an organization dedicated to cultivating excellence in public speaking and leadership.