April 18, 2019

Archives for February 2018

Tenth Circuit: Unpublished Opinions, 2/21/2018

On Wednesday, February 21, 2018, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals issued three published opinions and six unpublished opinions.

Bryer v. Conoco Phillips, Co.

Martin v. United Airlines, Inc.

United States v. Taylor

United States v. Valdez

United States v. Salvador

United States v. Eskridge

Case summaries are not provided for unpublished opinions. However, some published opinions are summarized and provided by Legal Connection.

A New Approach to Writing Facts, Part I

We are told fact sections should tell a story, as if such advice is self-executing. No one explains how to tell a story. Yes, we tell stories everyday. But when we do, they come out naturally and may not be very good. Writing a fact section is not natural and needs to be good.

Put aside storytelling. Consider a different approach: filmmaking. Think of any scene from a movie you enjoy. Let’s use TOPGUN, because as someone of intelligence and great taste you were probably thinking of it anyway. Why is the main character’s call sign Maverick? Why not Renegade or Creampuff? It’s Maverick because screenwriters chose that name. Just like a costume designer chose aviator sunglasses. And not just any aviators, dark lens aviators instead of silver lens. A set designer chose which planes and how many to have in the background. The director chose to have Tom Cruise on the left and shoot the scene from a high angle. And we are all indebted to the music director for hiring Kenny Loggins to play Danger Zone.

In every scene dozens of people made decisions. Those decisions shaped the audience’s perception and told the story. Those decisions are why Darth Vader’s cape is not yellow, why the ending of the Usual Suspects surprised you, and why you knew Scar was a villain before he killed Mufasa.

In a fact section you are the cast and crew. You control every decision. It’s empowering; you don’t need a special effects budget and there is no producer to answer to. Yet most attorneys fall short because most attorneys have no training in storytelling.

Part I of this article is Directing 101 For Attorneys. It explains what stories can do in a brief and how to create them. Part II (to debut next month) applies this advice to examples.

Rethink What Fact Sections Can Do For You

“If you let me state the facts, I will let you argue the law—and I will win.”[1]

Before you write a story you need goals: (1) Identify the facts a court needs to decide in your favor, (2) provide the relevant procedural background, (3) preempt facts that favor the other side, and (4) for appeals, discuss the lower court’s ruling. Most fact sections have these goals. Most fact sections achieve these goals. And most fact sections stink.

Why they stink is less clear. When discussing fact sections, judges often advise attorneys to give them a reason to turn the page; “it is not unconstitutional to be interesting.”[2] Fair enough. But with large caseloads and billing concerns, writing entertaining briefs for an audience paid to read briefs is not a priority for most attorneys. A more compelling reason is that these four goals do not advance your argument.

A good fact section gives context and focuses on the relevant facts so “the legal analysis and result look inevitable.”[3] “From the reader’s perspective, your legal analysis seems the only possible means of reaching a just result on the basis of the facts.”[4] The four goals above do not accomplish this. You need more. Fact sections should prime a judge to favor an argument or side. They can elicit sympathy for a character or raise questions about behavior. This is where stories come in.

How to Craft A Story

If you have not been to film school, creating stories is daunting. Below is the best explanation I have come across, which comes from Stephen Armstrong’s and Timothy Terrell’s Thinking Like a Writer.[5]

The basic elements of a story are characters, the opening situation, the closing situation, and the movement from the opening to the closing.[6] “With each [element], your job is to create inferences that point towards favorable conclusions about the nature of the acts and actors that make up the story.”[7] These inferences are powerful. The power of fact sections is that “[t]hese very different stories were created from the same facts by making different decisions about which to use and how to organize them.”[8]

Like a film crew, four choices shape these elements into a story:

  1. The Start: Where does the story begin?
  2. The End: Where does the story end?
  3. Perspective: Through whose eyes do we see the events unfold?
  4. Details: Which details do we include and where do we include them? Which details do we omit?[9]

The Start

Beginnings are critical.

Sometimes stories begin by introducing a character, the world from his or her perspective, and that character’s motives for later actions. Han Solo, James Bond, Willy Wonka, George C. Scott’s General Patton, Indiana Jones, and Full Metal Jacket’s Gunnery Sergeant Hartman all have memorable introductions that prime the character’s later actions. The same principles apply to legal briefs. For example, a criminal trespass case might start with the defendant desperate, starving, and shivering, or with a family returning home to find a broken window.[10]  A trade secrets case might begin with a company introducing a revolutionary product for sale only to watch its chief scientist go to a competitor that introduces a similar product six months later. But the opposing brief might start years earlier with the competitor’s research and development team, and end with the new employee coming on board during the final stages of a product set for launch.

Other times effective stories start with context, not characters. Science fiction and fantasy movies do this all the time. There is no alien in the opening to Alien. Rather we see a giant ship with a skeleton crew floating in the void of space. The introduction establishes isolation, the last place you would want to encounter an alien with acid for blood. Lord of the Rings opens with a history of alliances and conflicts between humans, elves, and orcs; it introduces the ring but most of the main living characters come later. Bring this to your brief. Although we write about the real world, often it is a foreign world. Whether it is life in a gang-controlled neighborhood, a regulatory landscape, or how an industry works, there is a unique context. Armstrong and Terrell describe the case of a corporation accused of violating environmental regulations controlling pollutants released under certain weather conditions. Most writers would lead with what happened on the day of the violation. But a stronger opening might begin by describing how difficult it is to predict the weather.[11]

In most cases a story’s start should differ between sides. Imagine a car accident. Depending on who is being blamed, the story might begin with a description of the driver and his behavior (a character-based introduction), or a description of the intersection and weather (a context-based introduction).[12]

The End

The end of a story should reinforce the point. The criminal trespass case could end with a frightened defendant hiding in the bushes and being arrested, or with an intruder running out of a home.[13]

The end may go beyond the events that led to the lawsuit. It could lay the foundation for damages. So a trade secrets plaintiff might describe the plummeting sales or number of lost customers.  A victim’s hardships, the environmental impact, or reputational damage are all ways to end. Another option is the case’s effect on the client’s industry or the legal landscape.

Perspective

Conveying a perspective has two parts: who and how.

Who. Choose whose perspective to tell the story from. Often we choose one of the classic main characters like the plaintiff, defendant, or victim. But you don’t have to. The perspective could be from someone uninvolved with the events, like an expert witness or a detective. And it could be from someone on the other side of the case. In a case pivoting on intent, a prosecutor might tell the story from the defendant’s perspective to highlight the time he had to plan his actions; a plaintiff might do the same to show the warning signs before the negligent behavior.

Or the perspective could be from no person. You might adopt the legislature’s perspective to discuss a statute’s intent, or an agency’s perspective to describe a regulatory scheme. You could use a god’s-eye-view of the world to describe context, like a corporation’s organization or how a manufacturing process works.

Also consider whether the perspective will be consistent or whether it will change. You might begin with a god’s-eye-view of the world and then shift to a person’s perspective entering this world. Or you might start with the agency’s perspective in creating a regulatory scheme and then discuss your client’s view.

How. For most of us, to tell the client’s perspective we state the facts that client knew per that client’s testimony, deposition, sworn statement, etc. It looks likes this:

John became CEO of the company in 2001. The company entered the contract in January. The contract said all material facts were disclosed. It mentioned a $1 million debt. It did not mention a pending $3 million lawsuit. But John did not know about the lawsuit.

Stating facts your client knew does not necessarily tell the story from that client’s perspective. In fact, this example has three different perspectives.

Professor George Gopen explains that most people read a sentence as the story (i.e., perspective) of the main clause’s subject.[14] So “Jack loves Jill” is Jack’s story while “Jill is loved by Jack” is Jill’s story.[15] “Keep the grammatical subjects of your sentences the same for as long as you are telling that particular story. Then, by changing whose story the next sentence is, you will (silently) convey to your reader” a shift to a new story.[16]

So sentence structure defines perception. That is why in the above example there are three perspectives: John’s, the company’s, and the contract’s.

Avoid changing perspectives unintentionally. The compulsion to vary sentence structure (courtesy of our elementary school teachers) works against us. Rest assured, there are many ways to vary sentence structure while keeping the subject of the main clauses consistent. For example, both of these sentences are the defendant’s perspective:

The defendant chose to refuse the goods, even though the plaintiff delivered them on time.

Even though the plaintiff delivered the goods on time, the defendant chose to refuse them.[17]

Details

Identify the Necessary Facts

For a fact section you must know the law. The law identifies which facts a court must consider. For precisely this reason, many suggest writing the argument section first and the fact section last.[18] Public policies and equity may inform this decision too.

One caveat. Some hold Judge Aldisert’s view that, at least in an appellate brief, any fact you use in an argument section must be in the fact section.[19] The reason is that the fact section gives a court “an objective account of what occurred before the twist of advocacy is added to the cold facts.”[20] Perhaps in a single issue brief Judge Aldisert’s positon holds true. But modern writers have modified this approach.

“Do not burden the opening statement of facts with details relevant to a specific argument that you will develop in full later. Just state the basics.”[21] If your brief raises multiple unrelated issues, having mini-fact sections near each argument is easier for readers. Think of an appellate brief that raises pretrial, trial, and post-trial issues. The reader gets to the pretrial issue fact section on page four but does not see its corresponding argument section until page eighteen. Between those sections are pages of unrelated facts. Having a pretrial issue fact section right before its argument section makes your reader’s life much easier.

Cut Irrelevant Unnecessary Facts

A universal gripe is that fact sections contain too many facts.[22] But “too many” is the wrong phrase; it is not a numbers issue. It’s an issue with misleading a reader.

Fact sections cause problems when they suggest a fact is important when it is not. Readers assume you included a fact for a reason. The longer the reader searches for that reason the more confused the reader becomes. If a reason never comes, the reader gets confused and frustrated.

Here is a good example. At a recent CLE, one judge remarked that when she reads that police executed a search warrant at a particular address, she immediately begins to think the police searched the wrong home because why else would the address be relevant. When that is not the case, she is left wondering why the lawyer told her the address.[23] For precisely the same reason, dates, times, quotations, addresses, procedural history, locations, dollar amounts, weights, quantities, and proper names of people, places, entities, and pleadings are often irrelevant.[24]

A related problem is that fact sections fail to highlight key facts. If there are nine key facts and you tack on eighty more, those nine facts do not look essential. “Cutting clutter isn’t just about saving words. It’s also about turning down the noise so the signal shines through.”[25]

Applying these guidelines, look at Judge Posner’s edits to an opinion by Judge Wald.[26]

 

 

Judge Wald’s Opinion

 

 

Judge Posner’s Edit

 

Appellant Robert Morris was convicted of possession of cocaine with intent to sell, in violation of 21 U.S.C. § 841(a)(1) and § 841(b)(1)(B)(iii), and for using or carrying a firearm during and in relation to a drug trafficking offense, in violation of 18 U.S.C. § 924(c)(1). He appeals both convictions on the ground that the evidence was insufficient to support either charge. We reject both challenges and affirm the judgment below.[27] A jury convicted the defendant of possession of cocaine with intent to sell it, and of using or carrying a firearm during and in relation to a drug offense. The judge sentenced him to 130 months in prison.[28]
On December 11, 1990, officers of the Metropolitan Police Department executed a search warrant on a one-bedroom apartment at 2525 14th Street, N.E., in the District of Columbia. Upon entering the apartment, the officers found appellant seated on a small couch in the living room; they detained him while they searched the apartment. The search produced two ziplock bags containing a total of 15.7 grams of crack cocaine divided among 100 smaller ziplock bags, $500 in cash, empty ziplock bags, razor blades, and three loaded and operable pistols. Two of the guns were under the cushions of the couch on which appellant sat; the third was in a nightstand in the bedroom. The cocaine and the cash were in an air duct vent in the ceiling of the bedroom. In the drawer of a dresser in the bedroom, the officers found two birthday cards; appellant’s name was on the envelope of one, and the other was for a “son,” signed “Mr. and Mrs. B.G. Morris” and dated November 30, 1990. No address was on either. In a hallway closet, the officers found a laundry ticket dated December 3, 1990, and bearing the name “E. Morris.” There were no identifiable fingerprints on any of these items. The officers arrested appellant, who was indicted on two counts: possession with intent to distribute in excess of five grams of cocaine base and using or carrying a firearm in relation to the possession offense.[29] Police had a warrant to search a one-bedroom apartment. Upon entering they found the defendant sitting on a small couch in the living room. The search revealed drugs, cash, and drug paraphernalia, and also three pistols—two under the cushions of the couch and the third in a nightstand in the bedroom.[30]

 

Once you identify the necessary facts and cut all the excess facts, congratulations—you now have a timeline. But not a fact section.

Add Relevant Unnecessary Facts

Conventional advice strips a fact section to only what a court needs to rule.[31] This advice goes too far.

Think of a summary judgment motion. Think of that numbered list of materially undisputed facts. That list is not a story. If you delete the numbers and group the list into paragraphs, it is still not a story. So a fact section needs more.

Great fact sections contain helpful unnecessary facts. The difference from the previous step is that these, albeit unnecessary, facts have a purpose, a purpose that furthers the story even if it does not further the legal argument.

This concept is not new. We see it in judicial opinions. “I doubt it’s a coincidence, for example, that in the U.S. Supreme Court’s landmark death-penalty cases in the 1970s and ’80s, the justices who voted against death sentences said nary a word about the underlying crimes, while those who upheld death sentences sometimes sounded like they were writing smut fiction.”[32]

There is another role for relevant unnecessary facts.  Some facts neutralize a tangent on the reader’s mind. For example, you might explain a rare point of law, like how although the defendant acknowledged his prior convictions when he testified trial, that testimony is inadmissible at a post-trial habitual criminal sentencing hearing to prove those convictions.[33] Without this fact, a court may be left wondering why a defendant disputes the existence of prior convictions he admitted to.

Organization

“[S]ome writers assume that, if they organize facts chronologically, they are by definition telling a story. That is a damaging mistake.”[34]

Choosing which facts to include and exclude is not enough. Equally important is where the facts fit into the story.

Begin by choosing the key facts in your story. Then choose an organization that highlights those facts. For chronologies, the key fact is the sequence of events. If the case centers on who knew what when, or who did what first, chronologies work well. But be careful because chronologies deprive you of control. “Because the writer is locked into his chronological default, however, he has no choice but to insert the key [] facts wherever the chronology permits, blurring the emphasis they deserve.”[35] They also tend to “run[] out of control and drag[] irrelevant facts along.”[36]

Other kinds of key facts do not depend on sequence. Armstrong and Terrell frame these alternatives as who, what, where, and why. Who: people and descriptions of them, their motives, or their credibility. [37]  What: a thing, like documents and what they say, who they were sent to, or how they were drafted; a manufacturing process; a person’s mental state.[38] Where: a location, the conditions of an area; the weather. Why: an explanation or motive like alcohol, jealousy, greed, wet roads.[39]

These facts are best highlighted without a chronology. Just because an organization is not a chronology does not mean it is told backwards or out of order. It just means sequence and timing do not control the story. Such stories might have timeless sections that discuss context, like a corporate structure or the ecology of a marsh polluted by an oil spill.[40] They might have lengthy explanations about people, companies, or contracts before moving on to an event. Or they might explain the story out of order; they might begin at the end and then explain what led up to that event. They might switch back and forth between an event and the past (like The Godfather Part 2).

Conclusion

Fact sections are the most underused part of briefs. If you do not tell a story and if you do not tell the right story, your brief is weak. Elevate your fact section and you will elevate your brief.

Channel your inner filmmaker to craft the story that advances your argument and sets you up for success. The next time you read a brief, think about whether the fact section helps the argument. Analyze it from the director’s chair: where does the story start, where does it end, who is telling the story, which details does it include and omit, and how it is organized.


[1] George Gopen, “Controlling the Reader’s Perception of Your Client’s Story,” 38 Litigation 4, at 18 (Summer/Fall 2012), available at www.georgegopen.com/uploads/1/0/9/0/109073507/litigation_5_palsgraffian_perspectives.pdf (attributing quotation to Clarence Darrow without citation).

[2] Ruggero J. Aldisert, Winning on Appeal: Better Briefs and Oral Argument 168 (National Institute of Trial Advocacy 2d ed. 2003).

[3] Stephen V. Armstrong & Timothy P. Terrell, Thinking Like a Writer: A Lawyer’s Guide to Effective Writing and Editing 111 (Practicing Law Institute 3d ed. 2009).

[4] Id.

[5] See also Brian J. Foley & Ruth Anne Robbins, “Fiction 101: A Primer for Lawyers on How to Use Fiction Writing Techniques to Write Persuasive Fact Sections,” 32 Rutgers L. Rev. 459 (2001).

[6] Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3. at 299. See also Aldisert, supra n. 2 at 168 (stories have characters, conflict, resolution, organization, a point of view, and a setting).

[7] Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3. at 299.

[8] Id. at. 299.

[9] Id. at 300.

[10] See id. at 298; 300.

[11] Id. at 300.

[12] See Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 113-14.

[13] Id. at. 300 (“notice how the impact of the arrest differs dramatically then it comes at the end rather than the beginning. If the rest of the story has been carefully constructed, the arrest seems cruel and unjust, not a presumption to be overcome.”).

[14] George Gopen, Whose Story is This Sentence? Directing Readers’ Perceptions of Narrative, 38 Litigation 3, Spring 2012 at 17-18,

available at www.georgegopen.com/uploads/1/0/9/0/109073507/litigation_4_whose_story.pdf.

[15] George Gopen, “Controlling the Reader’s Perception of Your Client’s Story,” 38 Litigation 4, at 18, (Summer/Fall 2012), available at www.georgegopen.com/uploads/1/0/9/0/109073507/litigation_5_palsgraffian_perspectives.pdf.

[16] Id. at 19.

[17] Gopen, supra n. 14 at 17-18.

[18] See Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 297 (“To write a persuasive story, you have to think carefully about the framework of plot and character around which the facts will cohere.”). See also id. at 354 (“Present facts with an eye towards the law” by stating only the facts you need, addressing material facts harmful to your argument, and avoiding argumentative characterizations of the facts).

[19] Aldisert, supra n. 2 at 169-70.

[20] Id. at 169.

[21] Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 354.

[22] Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 297 (“The fact section of the brief or memorandum of law becomes an agglomeration of data that is not just unpersuasive, but downright painful to read.”).

[23] Elizabeth Harris, Judge, Colorado Court of Appeals, Presentation at Appellate Practice Update 2017 (CLE in Colo., Inc. Nov. 29, 2017).

[24] Ross Guberman, Point Taken: How to Write Like the World’s Best Judges 44-57 (Oxford University Press 2015) (applying this advice to judicial opinion writing); Ross Guberman, “Five Resolutions for Litigators,” www.legalwritingpro.com/articles/five-resolutions-litigators/.

[25] Ross Guberman, Point Taken: How to Write Like the World’s Best Judges 51 (Oxford University Press 2015) (applying this advice to judicial opinion writing). See also Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 301-03 (showing how too much detail prevents key facts from getting the attention they disserve).

[26] These examples come from Guberman, supra n. 25 at 45-47.

[27] United States v. Morris, 977 F.2d 617, 618 (D.C. Cir. 1992).

[28] Guberman, supra n. 25 at 45-47.

[29] Morris, 977 F.2d at 619.

[30] Guberman, supra n. 25 at 45-47.

[31] See also Guberman, supra n. 25 at 56; 77 (“if your legal analysis does not turn on one of these details, consider purging them from your fact or background statement . . . .”) (applying advice to judicial opinion writing).

[32] Id. at 60.

[33] C.R.S. § 18-1.3-803(5)(b) (2017).

[34] Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 120. But see Aldisert, supra n. 2 at 169-70 (recommending always explaining facts chronologically). The dangers of default organizations applies to other sections of brief writing too. In fact, Armstrong and Terrell have a chapter titled “The Dangers of Default Organizations” discussing common defaults like tracking the history of your research and thinking, or tracking your opponent’s organization. Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 87-110.

[35] Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 113.

[36] Id. at 111. “[T]he writer usually seizes onto chronology as a drowning person onto a life preserver. But a chronology is not a story. Nor can you turn it into one by ‘spinning’ or characterizing the facts, or by adding a few more heart-wrenching details.” Id. at 297.

[37] See id.

[38] See id.

[39] See id.

[40] See Armstrong & Terrell, supra n. 3 at 111-12.

Michael Blasie graduated from the New York University School of Law. He began his career as a commercial litigator and criminal defense attorney in the New York City office of Cooley LLP where he practiced in state and federal trial and appellate courts. After five years he moved to Denver where he worked as a law clerk to the Honorable David J. Richman of the Colorado Court of Appeals before becoming Staff Counsel at Wheeler Trigg O’Donnell, LLP. Michael also serves as a volunteer firefighter for the City of Golden.

Colorado Supreme Court: Announcement Sheet, 2/20/2018

On Tuesday, February 20, 2018, the Colorado Supreme Court issued one published opinion.

Pernell v. People

The summary of this case is forthcoming.

Neither State Judicial nor the Colorado Bar Association provides case summaries for unpublished appellate opinions. The case announcement sheet is available here.

Tenth Circuit: Unpublished Opinions, 2/20/2018

On Tuesday, February 20, 2018, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals issued no published opinion and three unpublished opinions.

Chamberlain v. Chamberlain

Inge v. McClelland

United States v. Mulay

Case summaries are not provided for unpublished opinions. However, some published opinions are summarized and provided by Legal Connection.

Tenth Circuit: Unpublished Opinions, 2/16/2018

On Friday, February 16, 2018, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals issued one published opinion and eight unpublished opinions.

Avington v. Indian Health Care Resource Center of Tulsa

Armour v. Universal Protection Services

United States v. Angeles

Nunez v. Lifetime Products, Inc.

Chissoe v. Zinke

United States v. McKinney

Stryker v. Bear

United States v. Flores-Lopez

Case summaries are not provided for unpublished opinions. However, some published opinions are summarized and provided by Legal Connection.

Sean Finn Appointed to 17th District Court Bench

On Thursday, February 15, 2018, the governor’s office announced the appointment of Sean Finn to the District Court bench in the 17th Judicial District. Finn will fill a vacancy created by the appointment of Hon. Ted Tow, III, to the Colorado Court of Appeals, effective February 13, 2018.

Finn is currently a Chief Trial Deputy in the 20th Judicial District Attorney’s Office, where he prosecutes felony offenses and supervises felony prosecutions of economic crimes, cases before Boulder County grand juries, and appeals on behalf of the District Attorney’s Office. He also handles civil matters on behalf of the District Attorney’s Office and is an adjunct professor of criminal procedure at the University of Colorado School of Law. Prior to his work in the 20th Judicial District, Finn was Deputy District Attorney and Senior Deputy District Attorney in the 17th Judicial District. He was an associate at Davis, Graham & Stubbs early in his career. He clerked for Hon. Robert Russel of the Colorado Court of Appeals. He received his undergraduate degree from the University of Colorado and his law degree from Loyola University School of Law.

For more information about the appointment, click here.

Rules Governing Commissions on Judicial Performance Repealed

On Thursday, February 15, 2018, the Colorado Supreme Court issued Rule Change 2018(02), repealing Chapter 37 of the Colorado Rules of Civil Procedure, “Rules Governing the Commissions on Judicial Performance.” The repeal was adopted by the court on February 15, effective immediately.

For the text of the rule change, click here. For all of the Colorado Supreme Court’s adopted and proposed rule changes, click here.

Tenth Circuit: Unpublished Opinions, 2/15/2018

On Thursday, February 15, 2018, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals issued no published opinion and three unpublished opinions.

Scott v. Mid-Del Schools Board of Education

Brown v. Zupan

Center v. Lampert

Case summaries are not provided for unpublished opinions. However, some published opinions are summarized and provided by Legal Connection.

Learning to Learn

“I didn’t know robots had advanced so far,” a reader remarked after last week’s post about how computers are displacing knowledge workers. What changed to make that happen? The machines learned how to learn.

This is from Artificial Intelligence Goes Bilingual—Without A Dictionary, Science Magazine, Nov. 28, 2017.

“Imagine that you give one person lots of Chinese books and lots of Arabic books—none of them overlapping—and the person has to learn to translate Chinese to Arabic. That seems impossible, right?” says . . . Mikel Artetxe, a computer scientist at the University of the Basque Country (UPV) in San Sebastiàn, Spain. “But we show that a computer can do that.”

Most machine learning—in which neural networks and other computer algorithms learn from experience—is “supervised.” A computer makes a guess, receives the right answer, and adjusts its process accordingly. That works well when teaching a computer to translate between, say, English and French, because many documents exist in both languages. It doesn’t work so well for rare languages, or for popular ones without many parallel texts.

[This learning technique is called] unsupervised machine learning. [A computer using this technique] constructs bilingual dictionaries without the aid of a human teacher telling them when their guesses are right.

Hmm. . . . I could have used that last year, when my wife and I spent three months visiting our daughter in South Korea. The Korean language is ridiculously complex; I never got much past “good morning.”

Go matches were a standard offering on the gym TV’s where I worked out. (Imagine two guys in black suits staring intently at a game board — not exactly a riveting workout visual.) Go is also ridiculously complex, and mysterious, too: the masters seem to make moves more intuitively than analytically. But the days of human Go supremacy are over. Google wizard and overall overachiever Sebastian Thrun[1] explains why in this conversation with TED Curator Chris Anderson:

Artificial intelligence and machine learning is about 60 years old and has not had a great day in its past until recently. And the reason is that today, we have reached a scale of computing and datasets that was necessary to make machines smart. The new thing now is that computers can find their own rules. So instead of an expert deciphering, step by step, a rule for every contingency, what you do now is you give the computer examples and have it infer its own rules.

A really good example is AlphaGo. Normally, in game playing, you would really write down all the rules, but in AlphaGo’s case, the system looked over a million games and was able to infer its own rules and then beat the world’s residing Go champion. That is exciting, because it relieves the software engineer of the need of being super smart, and pushes the burden towards the data.

20 years ago the computers were as big as a cockroach brain. Now they are powerful enough to really emulate specialized human thinking. And then the computers take advantage of the fact that they can look at much more data than people can. AlphaGo looked at more than a million games. No human expert can ever study a million games. So as a result, the computer can find rules that even people can’t find.

Thrun made those comments in April 2017. AlphaGo’s championship reign was short-lived: it was unseated a mere six months by a new cyber challenger that taught itself without reviewing all that data. This is from “AlphaGo Zero Shows Machines Can Become Superhuman Without Any Help,” MIT Technology Review, October 18, 2017.

AlphaGo wasn’t the best Go player on the planet for very long. A new version of the masterful AI program has emerged, and it’s a monster. In a head-to-head matchup, AlphaGo Zero defeated the original program by 100 games to none.

Whereas the original AlphaGo learned by ingesting data from hundreds of thousands of games played by human experts, AlphaGo Zero started with nothing but a blank board and the rules of the game. It learned simply by playing millions of games against itself, using what it learned in each game to improve.

The new program represents a step forward in the quest to build machines that are truly intelligent. That’s because machines will need to figure out solutions to difficult problems even when there isn’t a large amount of training data to learn from.

“The most striking thing is we don’t need any human data anymore,” says Demis Hassabis, CEO and cofounder of DeepMind [the creators of AlphaGo Zero].

“By not using human data or human expertise, we’ve actually removed the constraints of human knowledge,” says David Silver, the lead researcher at DeepMind and a professor at University College London. “It’s able to create knowledge for itself from first principles.”

Did you catch that? “We’ve removed the constraints of human knowledge.” Wow. No wonder computers are elbowing all those knowledge workers out of the way.

What’s left for human to do? We’ll hear from Sebastian Thrun and others on that topic next time.


[1] Sebastian Thrun’s TED bio describes him as “an educator, entrepreneur and troublemaker. After a long life as a professor at Stanford University, Thrun resigned from tenure to join Google. At Google, he founded Google X, home to self-driving cars and many other moonshot technologies. Thrun also founded Udacity, an online university with worldwide reach, and Kitty Hawk, a ‘flying car’ company. He has authored 11 books, 400 papers, holds 3 doctorates and has won numerous awards.”

 

Kevin Rhodes writes about individual growth and cultural change, drawing on insights from science, technology, disruptive innovation, entrepreneurship, neuroscience, psychology, and personal experience, including his own unique journey to wellness — dealing with primary progressive MS through an aggressive regime of exercise, diet, and mental conditioning.

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Colorado Court of Appeals: Workers’ Compensation Claimant Need Only Prove Either Wage Loss or Disability for TPD

The Colorado Court of Appeals issued its opinion in Montoya v. Industrial Claim Appeals Office on Thursday, February 2, 2018.

Workers’ Compensation—Medical Incapacity—Temporary Partial Disability.

Claimant worked as an interior designer for Ethan Allen Retail, Inc. Her pay was based entirely on commissions. Claimant suffered admitted work-related injuries. Although she was neither given work restrictions nor medically limited in her ability to work, her medical appointments caused her to be absent from the showroom floor and not be able to meet potential and current clients. Claimant sought temporary partial disability benefits (TPD) in a workers’ compensation action. She testified that the absences caused her to lose more than $20,000 in commission earnings. The administrative law judge (ALJ) awarded claimant TPD benefits to compensate her for the commissions she lost while attending medical appointments.

A panel of the Industrial Claim Appeals Office (Panel) set aside the award of TPD benefits, reasoning that disability benefits are only available if a claimant demonstrates both medical incapacity and temporary loss of wage earning capacity. Here, because the ALJ had found that claimant had no work restrictions and was able to perform her job duties, the Panel held she did not establish the requisite “medical incapacity” prong of disability and therefore, as a matter of law, was not entitled to receive TPD benefits.

On appeal, claimant contended that the Panel’s interpretation of “disability” was too narrow. The court of appeals concluded that although the concept of disability incorporates both “medical incapacity” and “loss of wage earnings,” a claimant need not prove both components to establish entitlement to disability benefits under the Workers’ Compensation Act. The court then found that the evidence presented amply supported the ALJ’s finding that claimant’s wage loss was attributable to her work-related injury. The Panel erred in setting aside the ALJ’s decision.

The Panel’s decision was set aside and the case was remanded with instructions.

Summary provided courtesy of Colorado Lawyer.

Colorado Court of Appeals: City Had Power to Convey Park Not Dedicated to Public Use

The Colorado Court of Appeals issued its opinion in Save Cheyenne v. City of Colorado Springs on Thursday, February 2, 2018.

Land Exchange—Home Rule Cities.

The Colorado Springs City Council adopted a resolution approving a land exchange between the City, on the one hand, and the Broadmoor Hotel, Inc.; the Manitou and Pike’s Peak Railway Company; the COG Land & Development Company; and PF, LLC (collectively, the Broadmoor) on the other hand. As relevant here, a 189.5 acre parcel within Cheyenne Park known as “Strawberry Fields” was transferred to the Broadmoor for construction of a private equestrian center on an 8.5 acre building envelope within the parcel. As a condition of the transfer, the Broadmoor is required to allow continued public access to Strawberry Fields, with the exception of the land within the building envelope. In exchange, the Broadmoor transferred to the City more than 300 acres of land and trail easements to be added to the City’s park system.

Plaintiff, a local nonprofit corporation, filed suit, seeking a declaration that the resolution authorizing the land exchange was null and void, and injunctive relief preventing the land exchange. It also alleged a zoning violation. The City and the Broadmoor moved to dismiss under C.R.C.P. 12(b)(5), for failure to state any claims, and under C.R.C.P. 12(b)(1), arguing that the zoning challenge was unripe. The district court granted the motion.

The court of appeals first rejected defendants’ motion to dismiss plaintiff’s appeal based on mootness. Plaintiff argued that the resolution was an ultra vires act of the City Council because Cheyenne Park had previously been dedicated as a public park, and as a consequence, the City holds the park in trust for the public and cannot convey the park’s land. The Court concluded that no valid statutory dedication of Cheyenne Park occurred, and that any common law dedication was abrogated. The City Council had the power to convey Strawberry Fields when it authorized the land exchange.

Plaintiff next argued that under C.R.S. § 31-15-713(1)(a) no conveyance of the parkland could be made unless it was authorized by a vote in a public election. Colorado Springs is a home rule city and therefore in matters of local concern, a home-rule ordinance supersedes a conflicting state statute. The Colorado Springs City Code provides that land exchanges are to be reviewed by the City Council and approved by resolution. The Code provision applies, and the City was not required to hold an election before making the land transfer.

The court also rejected plaintiff’s argument that the resolution and land exchange violated article XI, section 2 of the Colorado Constitution, which prohibits transfers of city property without consideration. Here, the City received consideration for the parkland.

Plaintiff next contended that the City Council’s resolution approving the land exchange violates the City Charter. The Charter sections at issue only regulate granting franchises and leases on public property and city-owned parklands. The transaction here did not create a lease or franchise on City property, and these provisions do not apply to the conveyance.

Lastly, the court concluded that plaintiff’s claim of zoning violations is not yet ripe for review. The record does not demonstrate that a final zoning decision has been made regarding the permitted uses of Strawberry Fields. The district court properly dismissed this claim.

The judgment was affirmed.

Summary provided courtesy of Colorado Lawyer.

Colorado Court of Appeals: Airport Shuttle Drivers Are Not “Interstate Drivers” for Overtime Purposes

The Colorado Court of Appeals issued its opinion in Brunson v. Colorado Cab Co., LLC on Thursday, February 2, 2018.

Colorado Minimum Wage Act—Colorado Wage Claim Act—Colorado Wage Order 31—Summary Judgment—Interstate Drivers.

Brunson is a shuttle van driver who transports passengers to and from Denver International Airport but does not drive out of state. He claimed that Shamrock Charters, Inc. and Colorado Cab Company, LLC (collectively, Shamrock) failed to pay him overtime compensation in violation of the Colorado Minimum Wage Act and the Colorado Wage Claim Act. The Acts are implemented by Colorado Wage Order 31, which requires covered employers to pay overtime. As pertinent here, the Wage Order exempts “interstate drivers” from its provisions. Neither the Acts nor the Wage Order defines the term “interstate drivers.”

The district court granted summary judgment in favor of Shamrock. It found that the Wage Order’s language closely follows the federal Motor Carrier Act (MCA) exemption of the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA) and construed “interstate drivers” in accordance with federal interpretation. Thus, the district court concluded that “interstate drivers” includes drivers involved in interstate commerce even if their work is entirely within the state. The court further concluded that Brunson was an interstate driver and was, as a matter of law, exempt from the Wage Order’s overtime pay requirements.

On appeal, Brunson contended that the federal interpretation of the MCA exemption does not apply to his state claims. The court of appeals determined that federal and state overtime pay exemptions are not identical or substantially identical. Further, the Colorado Department of Labor has published clear persuasive evidence of its intent to provide greater protections than those under FLSA. Therefore, the court concluded that federal case law’s interpretation of “interstate drivers” does not apply to Brunson’s state claims. Having determined that federal case law is not persuasive authority as to the meaning of “interstate driver,” the court relied on the Department’s interpretation of its own regulation in its Advisory Bulletin and construed the term “interstate drivers” to apply only to drivers whose work takes them across state lines. Thus, Shamrock did not “plainly and unmistakably” demonstrate that Brunson fell within the Wage Order’s exemption.

The summary judgment was reversed and the case was remanded.

Summary provided courtesy of Colorado Lawyer.