When is it Appropriate and Helpful to Employ Artificial Intelligence in Divorce and Other Legal Matters (and When is it Not)

Judgment in the Age of Artificial Intelligence:

What Collaborative Divorce Can Teach Us

Co-Authored by Roy Martin and ChatGPT

The arrival of artificial intelligence has prompted predictions that many professions—law, medicine, accounting, engineering, even psychotherapy—will soon be transformed. AI systems can summarize legal opinions, draft contracts, analyze financial records, and answer questions with remarkable speed. As these capabilities improve, a natural question arises:

Can AI eventually replace professional judgment?

Recently, I had an extended conversation with a collaborative divorce attorney who posed that question in a way I had not considered before. He began by describing an increasingly familiar experience. Clients often consult AI before meeting with him. By the time they arrive for their first appointment, they already believe they understand the law. More often than not, they are mistaken—not because AI is incapable of explaining legal principles, but because it has applied those principles to an incomplete or misunderstood set of facts.

That observation led to a broader discussion about the difference between knowing the law and exercising legal judgment. There is an important distinction.

Explaining the elements of a cause of action, summarizing a statute, or describing the procedural rules governing litigation is primarily an exercise in information retrieval and reasoning. AI is already becoming quite capable at these tasks.

Judgment is something different.

Experienced lawyers do not merely answer legal questions. They decide which questions need to be asked in the first place. They recognize which seemingly insignificant facts may ultimately determine the outcome of a case. They help clients distinguish between what is legally possible and what is practically wise.

As our discussion continued, however, the attorney described a field of practice that pushed this distinction much further. He practices collaborative divorce. Unlike traditional litigation, collaborative divorce fundamentally changes the incentives of everyone involved. Each spouse retains a collaboratively trained attorney. All participants sign an agreement promising not to litigate and to make full disclosure of all relevant information. Ifnegotiations fail, both attorneys must withdraw permanently, and each spouse must retain new litigation counsel.

The effect is profound. Instead of functioning as opposing advocates attempting to defeat one another, the attorneys become members of a single professional team whose success depends upon finding a durable resolution for everyone involved.

The legal team is only one part of the process. Mental health professionals help each spouse identify what truly matters to them and communicate those priorities in ways the other spouse can hear. They observe emotional dynamics that might otherwise derail negotiations. A child specialist ensures that children’s interests remain central without placing them in the middle of parental conflict. A financial specialist assembles assets, debts, income, budgets, and long-term financial projections so that decisions can be made with clarity rather than guesswork.

Listening to this description, I realized that very little of the process could fairly be described as “giving legal advice.” Instead, the professionals were performing something much more subtle. They were creating the conditions under which good decisions become possible.

Beyond Information

Much of the public conversation about artificial intelligence assumes that professional expertise consists primarily of possessing information. If that were true, AI’s trajectory would seem straightforward. As it accumulates more knowledge and improves its reasoning, it would naturally replace more professionals.

Collaborative divorce suggests a different model. The attorneys are certainly applying legal knowledge. The financial specialist is certainly applying financial expertise. The mental health professionals are certainly drawing upon psychology. But their greatest value lies elsewhere. They are helping human beings make decisions while experiencing grief, anger, fear, uncertainty, guilt, and loss.No spreadsheet can determine how much value a parent places on remaining in the family home.

No statute can determine whether preserving a respectful co-parenting relationship is worth sacrificing a larger share of marital assets. No algorithm can decide whether a settlement is acceptable because it allows two children to experience fewer years of conflict. These are not merely legal questions. They are human ones.

What AI May Become

None of this suggests that AI has little to contribute. On the contrary. An AI system could analyze thousands of financial settlement scenarios within seconds. It could identify tax consequences, detect overlooked legal issues, organize disclosures, summarize communications, and ensure that no important issue has been forgotten.

Used in this way, AI becomes an extraordinarily capable member of the professional team. The distinction, however, is significant. It is not replacing judgment. It is supporting judgment. There is a profound difference between saying, “Here are the consequences of each available option.” and saying, “This is the decision you should make.”

The first is largely analytical. The second requires values.

The Nature of Professional Judgment

During our conversation, the attorney remarked that he doubted AI could ever replace any of the professionals involved in collaborative divorce. I understood his skepticism. Their work depends not only upon expertise but upon trust. Clients disclose fears they have never spoken aloud. They reveal financial anxieties, parenting insecurities, resentments accumulated over decades, and hopes for life after divorce.

The professionals do more than analyze these conversations. They create emotional safety. That may ultimately be one of the defining characteristics of professional judgment. It is not simply reaching correct conclusions. It is helping other people reach conclusions they understand, accept, and can live with.

A Different Future

Perhaps the future of AI is not one in which professionals disappear. Perhaps it is one in which professional work becomes increasingly centered on those aspects of human judgment that cannot easily be reduced to information processing.

If so, collaborative divorce offers an unexpected glimpse of that future. Its success depends upon law, psychology, finance, negotiation, empathy, and trust working together.

Artificial intelligence may eventually become an extraordinary participant in that process. But the process itself reminds us that information and judgment are not the same thing. Knowing the law is not the same as helping two people rebuild their lives. And as AI grows more capable, that distinction may become one of the most important lessons the professions have to teach.

The Importance of Preserving Parenting Relationships Post Divorce

There’s a great deal of research showing that children of divorce do well when their parents respect each other and when each parent encourages the children to have a good relationship with the other. The terms of the parenting plan itself are of far less importance, from a child’s point of view, so long as […]

Thoughts on Collaborative Family Law for my Conventional Family Law Colleagues

Following are some thoughts recently posted to colleagues who practice in non-collaborative divorce and family law settings. In other words, to those attorneys who represent clients at contested hearings before a judge, judicial officer or arbitrator who has the power to make decisions for the former spouses or partners, irrespective of whether those former spouses or partners consent.

Having given up litigation, and wanting to share what I’ve learned from practicing collaboratively for over 20 years now, I helped put together a workshop (or CLE, which stands for “Continuing Legal Education” on this subject). Here’s what I wrote about that presentation, slightly edited for clarity.


Greetings all. This organization has been intending to host CLEs around the state on various topics. The inconvenience of a global pandemic has intervened just a smidge. But we’re trying to get things on track with this offering which will be presented online, in the convenience of your preferred location and, optionally, your PJs.

The subject is one close to my heart. Those who have read my ramblings know that I can mount a soap box and wax on essentially forever about collaborative law. But since this is a community devoted to excellence in family law in every way, this offering is focused on how collaborative principles lend themselves to non-collaborative cases. After all, as many traditional DR attorneys have pointed out, these distinctions are not binary. Our cases are not uniformly collaborative or combative, and even the most challenging tussle may benefit from a dollop of something unexpected, a perspective that may open an unforeseen passage.

Years ago, when serving as a pro tem settlement judge in a court that held conferences on the eve of trial, there were times when everyone in the room was gobsmacked that a case on a seemingly inevitable courtroom trajectory unexpectedly settled. When I was the settlement judge, it was invariably collaborative skills and perspectives that opened the door. For instance, in one case I’ll never forget (and have written about before), after making space for an irate wife to vent a bit, then responding “I get that you’re angry. Would you be willing to share what it’s about?”, all the pieces fell into place. Was not something I’d planned to say until that very moment and yet, somehow, it changed everything. A few minutes later she was talking about the fear and despair that underlay her anger and then the husband was offering expressions of validation and empathy and then — settlement.

Admittedly, that was exceptional. Not the kind of thing I can promise because it doesn’t necessarily happen even in the most collaborative settings. But it would not have happened, could not have happened, but for the early skills I was learning as a then-young (callow, idealistic and not afraid to try new things) collaborative lawyer.

Of course my efforts didn’t always work. I could tell a few embarrassing tales too. But over time it became impossible to ignore the fact that my collaborative training and practice was improving my overall skills as a litigator. I’d settle more cases, not from a position of weakness (collaborative isn’t about allowing your clients to get run over) but rather with strength and resolve and yet also friendship and openness to new possibilities and perspectives. I’d try to get a sense of what the other party was up against and bring my sense of that understanding to opposing counsel and my client. And also help opposing counsel to understand where my client was coming from, the feelings and needs underneath his or her positions and words. I saw more and more that it was always about more than what presented at the surface. Always so much more to it than dollars or days of parenting time. It’s funny to even use the term “opposing counsel” now because I no longer think that way. The attorneys in my cases are friends, teammates and colleagues. Though I’m sure I wouldn’t feel that way about every case if I still litigated, this perspective nevertheless changes one’s interactions on all fronts. It changed the way I approached courtroom days and made me more skillful when I raised objections, cross examined a witness or presented an opening or closing statement.

I recall the last case I litigated in Tucson before moving to Washington. It wasn’t a full trial but only a temporary orders hearing. However in Tucson at that time (I don’t know what it’s like now), every hearing involved live testimony. This kind of routine hearing typically ran two to four hours. When we had concluded, I remained in my chair taking notes after the other attorney had left while the judge spoke with his staff. Then, as I finished and began to stand, the judge stopped me to say, “Mr. Martin, I really like your style.” He said it was calm and measured and that he appreciated attorneys who practice this way. Even before thanking him and walking out of the courtroom, I wanted to laugh out loud because it was so far from where I began. I remembered one of my first trials in which the judge had sustained an objection which I knew to be wrong because he didn’t understand the rules of evidence. I was trying to explain why a statement I was introducing wasn’t hearsay by definition because “My daddy’s the devil” isn’t intended to prove the truth of the assertion itself. It was maybe our third time around on this point (on which I was positive because I’d gotten an “A” in evidence and the professor had literally written the textbook). Somehow, that didn’t impress the judge who was beet red, literally shaking his finger in my direction and probably about to throw Blackstone’s at my head.

So 15 years later, what had changed? I had not in those years become a smooth operator with slick social skills. No, mostly what changed was my paradigm, my way of approaching cases. The way I thought about law and my purpose in this absurdly emotionally fraught and complex world of divorce law had shifted immensely. For instance, I’d come to see that it’s possible for a party to win everything that can be won in a courthouse and still lose.

Tragically, there’s a time for winning at another’s expense. Times when an epic battle is not merely advisable but essential. I’m grateful that I have colleagues who are up for those challenges since I’m no longer willing to strap on the heavy armor and walk into that ring. But even then, in that crucible, I’ve found that human beings — being, well; human — there can be moments when an unexpected seed sprouts in an unforeseen place.

On Friday, April 9th, my colleagues and I will present a half day CLE on collaborative law designed for the benefit of traditional family law attorneys. I believe it will be interesting both to those curious about collaborative law itself and also to those who don’t see the value. My intention is to provide Q&A time in my portion of the presentation to address the concerns of all comers. I seek not politeness but rather sincerity — each participant’s thoughts, varnished or otherwise. All questions will be addressed head on. Just as I do with clients. There are times when I tell clients about non-collaborative options because the case warrants it. I believe there are cases where you should be telling them about collaborative possibilities.

I’ll provide an overview of the collaborative paradigm and, as mentioned, space for Q&A. Theresa will provide her sense of how collaborative perspectives have inflected her litigation practice and Kevin will explore the interconnections and interactions between RCW 7.77 (the Uniform Collaborative Divorce Act as codified in Washington state) and the Rules of Professional Conduct. Afterwards, I’ll be willing to stick around to address any remaining questions. Perhaps Theresa and Kevin will too (though I speak not for them).

Thank you for reading this far. I recognize that succinctness is not among my virtues. If you feel moved to be there on the 9th, please join us.



Divorce with Love

The very notion of “Divorce with Love” may seem radical, perhaps even nonsensical. After all, love is difficult to define. Everyone has a different view of what it means to love another, and each of us fails to live up to our ideals, at least some of the time, particularly in our most intimate relationships.

Divorce would seem to represent the very height of that failure. So if two people couldn’t live together in love, how could (and why should) they divorce with love?

My perspective – which has developed through years of working as a mediator, collaborative attorney, and assisting in other forms of non-adversarial conflict resolution – is that love, more than anything, is a willingness to see through the eyes of another.

Please don’t misunderstand. Seeing through another’s eyes does not necessarily imply agreement. Everyone sees the world differently and each of us is entitled to our own unique perspectives. In itself, this is not a problem. People can have extremely different, even seemingly opposite, views and still experience harmony. Conflict occurs when we don’t trust another’s intentions, and divorce presents innumerable opportunities for that sort of mistrust to arise.

The Nature of Conflict

When going through a divorce, people will often ask, “What happened to the person I married?” Unfortunately, there are times when one has truly misjudged the character of another only to discover, upon divorce, that the person he or she loved never really existed. When one’s spouse is not acting in good faith, non-adversarial conflict resolution does not work. That’s when conventional divorce may be necessary.

Fortunately, though, most people have not failed to see the true nature of their spouse; the person once loved is still there. He or she only seems to have disappeared because the process of estrangement has led to a series of misunderstandings. Here’s how those misunderstandings arise:

We assume we know why someone acts the way they do based on what we would do in that same situation. Then, based on our assumptions about the other’s motives, we make judgments. At those times when the other person is acting in ways we cannot imagine ourselves behaving, our judgments are likely to be harsh. People often arrive in my office saying things like, “She’s selfish” or “He’s a jerk.”

The good news, however, is that our judgments are typically inaccurate. I say this having worked with hundreds of couples. At the core of most every dispute are misunderstandings that become the source of negative opinions and judgments.

Tragic Expressions

Marshall Rosenberg, a prominent advocate for the peaceful resolution of conflict, teaches that judgments are tragic expressions of unmet needs. Needs, according to Rosenberg, are universal. In other words, all people have them. They can be material, such as the need for food, air or sleep; and they can also be emotional, such as the need for respect, empathy, independence, love, humor and the like.

We’re born with a capacity to express needs in a manner that works. For example, when a baby needs something, he cries. Few parents fail to understand that behind the child’s wail is nothing more than a plea for understanding. Only an extremely immature or emotionally damaged parent would think the child was behaving maliciously.

However, as we get older, effectively expressing what we need becomes more challenging. Few of us have been taught to pay attention to feelings (our own, let alone those of another) and even fewer have learned to be sensitive to the needs that give rise to those feelings. If we were aware of what we needed, we might communicate in a manner that resulted in those needs being met. But when we’re not even aware of what we need, we have no language to ask for what’s wanted. And it’s our frustration over not getting our needs met that causes us to form judgments about those who appear to stand in our way through their seemingly unreasonable actions.

Stumbling Toward Conflict

Here’s an example: Let’s say my teenage son returns home from college at the end of the fall semester, walks into the house and goes straight to the kitchen without acknowledging my presence as I relax in the den. Perhaps, for me, that triggers sadness or anger. Underneath those feelings could be needs for respect, shared values, connection and/or love, to name but a few possibilities.

Now let’s take a moment to look at this from the hypothetical perspective of my son. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting me to be home so early in the day and, in the twilight of a Bellingham winter afternoon, didn’t notice me lying in the recliner under a blanket with a book. Perhaps he was so wrapped up in the idea of seeing his girlfriend for the first time in months, he wasn’t in a place to notice much of anything. Or maybe – teenage boy that he is – he was so hungry after a long trip, all he could think of was the inside of the refrigerator.

Were I to call him over and say, “When you entered the house and walked past me without saying hello, I felt sad and hurt because I’ve missed you and really wanted to connect,” there’s a good chance he might hear my words without feeling threatened. In that situation, perhaps he’d respond with something like, “I’m sorry, dad; I didn’t realize you were there” and then give me a hug. In other words, since I’ve expressed my needs clearly, without blame or judgment, there’s a reasonable chance my son will respond in a way I’ll appreciate.

On the other hand, were I not aware of my feelings and needs, I might judge my son a selfish, spoiled brat. Rosenberg regards such judgments, in themselves, a subtle form of violence. From that place of blame, there’s not much chance I’d approach him with words likely to be effective in getting my needs met. I might say something like, “Young man; come here! Am I invisible to you? That’s no way to treat your father!” In this scenario, my chances, percentage wise, of receiving the respect or love or sense of connection I’m seeking have just diminished to something pretty close to zero.

Judgments are tragic expressions of unmet needs, according to Rosenberg, because we form them only when we’re already sure we’re not going to get what we want, and the judgments themselves make it all but certain we’ll be right.

Listening Beyond Words

There’s an old saying that goes, “You’re speaking so loud, I can’t hear you.” As a mediator and collaborative attorney, my focus is on helping people listen beyond the surface of their spouse’s words to the deeper truth of what the other is really trying to say; to assist each in hearing and understanding the feelings and needs that hide beneath the other’s demands and judgments.

As this process unfolds, people are surprised by what they discover. “You’re a jerk” may really mean (for example), “I’m afraid because, if you’re not willing to help me, I don’t see how I can support myself.” “You’re selfish” may mean “I’m sad and frustrated because it seems you’re discouraging the children from wanting to spend time with me.”Few of us are aware of what we’re truly wanting when we lash out. Even fewer are aware of what another is trying to express when that person uses words that seem harsh, punishing or critical.

As you can perhaps imagine, when one authentically speaks the truth of what he or she wants, it’s far easier for the spouse to hear those words with openness and compassion. After all, “I’m afraid” or “I’m sad” is not threatening, whereas most of us feel defensive when someone seems to reproach us with negative judgments. Fortunately, once we’re aware of deeper feelings and needs – our own as well as another’s – judgments fall away.

When people see and recognize feelings and needs, they can move to a place where it feels authentic to say something along the lines of, “What you’re saying makes sense.” In resolving conflict, those simple words make a huge difference. We all need to feel not just heard but understood.

Please keep in mind that “You make sense” does not necessarily imply agreement. It doesn’t mean, “You were right about everything.” Rather, it means “I get where you’re coming from. I understand why, to you, things look the way they do.” When each spouse can honestly express understanding and empathy for the other in this manner, miracles happen.

Bridges of Trust

Working together in the ways I’ve described builds bridges of trust. Once people acknowledge and express appreciation for each other’s point of view, conflict tends to melt away – often effortlessly. Grudging compromises that make no one happy are rarely necessary. The spouses begin to identify creative solutions that neither could have fathomed earlier – solutions that meet everyone’s needs – because now, for the first time in a very long time, they understand each other. They may even discover themselves willing to compromise on issues that, before, had seemed completely intractable.

As people put together agreements from this place of understanding and empathy, there’s a “buy in,” a moment of transformation that occurs when each takes ownership of the settlement which they, together, have authored. From this point forward, everything looks different. Unlike orders imposed from on high by a judge or arbitrator, or a settlement into which spouses are strong armed by their attorneys, there’s neither resistance nor resentment toward agreements that people choose freely for themselves.

It’s unlikely that ex-spouses who have reached settlement using the process I’ve described will later wind up in court, either to enforce or revise their agreement. If something needs to be modified as the children mature or circumstances change, the former husband and wife will likely be able to work together to reach a new agreement. This may occur with the assistance of professionals, but just as likely between the parties, on their own, prior resentments having been cleared away and replaced with mutual respect and understanding.

Keys to the Kingdom

This process works when each party is both willing and able to act in good faith. By “good faith,” I mean the disclosure of all relevant information (such as income and financial documents), the placing of a high priority on the needs of children, and the intention to discover mutually beneficial agreements (even if it’s hard to imagine, at the outset, what those agreements might look like). In my experience, most any dispute, no matter how entrenched it may seem, can be resolved so long as these basic ingredients are present and the parties are guided by someone – or a team, in the case of Collaborative Divorce – skilled in the facilitation of conflict resolution.

In summary, the willingness to listen to another in a way that reveals his/her feelings and underlying needs, then share authentically one’s own feelings and needs, and be guided to a place where each can see through the eyes of the other is, in my opinion, to divorce with love.

Divorce with Love #2

The very notion of “Divorce with Love” may seem radical, perhaps even nonsensical. After all, love is difficult to define. Everyone has a different view of what it means to love another, and each of us fails to live up to our ideals, at least some of the time, particularly in our most intimate relationships.

Divorce would seem to represent the very height of that failure. So if two people couldn’t live together in love, how could (and why should) they divorce with love?

My perspective – which has developed through years of working as a mediator, collaborative attorney, and assisting in other forms of non-adversarial conflict resolution – is that love, more than anything, is a willingness to see through the eyes of another.

Please don’t misunderstand. Seeing through another’s eyes does not necessarily imply agreement. Everyone sees the world differently and each of us is entitled to our own unique perspectives. In itself, this is not a problem. People can have extremely different, even seemingly opposite, views and still experience harmony. Conflict occurs when we don’t trust another’s intentions, and divorce presents innumerable opportunities for that sort of mistrust to arise.

The Nature of Conflict

When going through a divorce, people will often ask, “What happened to the person I married?” Unfortunately, there are times when one has truly misjudged the character of another only to discover, upon divorce, that the person he or she loved never really existed. When one’s spouse is not acting in good faith, non-adversarial conflict resolution does not work. That’s when conventional divorce may be necessary.

Fortunately, though, most people have not failed to see the true nature of their spouse; the person once loved is still there. He or she only seems to have disappeared because the process of estrangement has led to a series of misunderstandings. Here’s how those misunderstandings arise:

We assume we know why someone acts the way they do based on what we would do in that same situation. Then, based on our assumptions about the other’s motives, we make judgments. At those times when the other person is acting in ways we cannot imagine ourselves behaving, our judgments are likely to be harsh. People often arrive in my office saying things like, “She’s selfish” or “He’s a jerk.”

The good news, however, is that our judgments are typically inaccurate. I say this having worked with hundreds of couples. At the core of most every dispute are misunderstandings that become the source of negative opinions and judgments.

Tragic Expressions

Marshall Rosenberg, a prominent advocate for the peaceful resolution of conflict, teaches that judgments are tragic expressions of unmet needs. Needs, according to Rosenberg, are universal. In other words, all people have them. They can be material, such as the need for food, air or sleep; and they can also be emotional, such as the need for respect, empathy, independence, love, humor and the like.

We’re born with a capacity to express needs in a manner that works. For example, when a baby needs something, he cries. Few parents fail to understand that behind the child’s wail is nothing more than a plea for understanding. Only an extremely immature or emotionally damaged parent would think the child was behaving maliciously.

However, as we get older, effectively expressing what we need becomes more challenging. Few of us have been taught to pay attention to feelings (our own, let alone those of another) and even fewer have learned to be sensitive to the needs that give rise to those feelings. If we were aware of what we needed, we might communicate in a manner that resulted in those needs being met. But when we’re not even aware of what we need, we have no language to ask for what’s wanted. And it’s our frustration over not getting our needs met that causes us to form judgments about those who appear to stand in our way through their seemingly unreasonable actions.

Stumbling Toward Conflict

Here’s an example: Let’s say my teenage son returns home from college at the end of the fall semester, walks into the house and goes straight to the kitchen without acknowledging my presence as I relax in the den. Perhaps, for me, that triggers sadness or anger. Underneath those feelings could be needs for respect, shared values, connection and/or love, to name but a few possibilities.

Now let’s take a moment to look at this from the hypothetical perspective of my son. Perhaps he wasn’t expecting me to be home so early in the day and, in the twilight of a Bellingham winter afternoon, didn’t notice me lying in the recliner under a blanket with a book. Perhaps he was so wrapped up in the idea of seeing his girlfriend for the first time in months, he wasn’t in a place to notice much of anything. Or maybe – teenage boy that he is – he was so hungry after a long trip, all he could think of was the inside of the refrigerator.

Were I to call him over and say, “When you entered the house and walked past me without saying hello, I felt sad and hurt because I’ve missed you and really wanted to connect,” there’s a good chance he might hear my words without feeling threatened. In that situation, perhaps he’d respond with something like, “I’m sorry, dad; I didn’t realize you were there” and then give me a hug. In other words, since I’ve expressed my needs clearly, without blame or judgment, there’s a reasonable chance my son will respond in a way I’ll appreciate.

On the other hand, were I not aware of my feelings and needs, I might judge my son a selfish, spoiled brat. Rosenberg regards such judgments, in themselves, a subtle form of violence. From that place of blame, there’s not much chance I’d approach him with words likely to be effective in getting my needs met. I might say something like, “Young man; come here! Am I invisible to you? That’s no way to treat your father!” In this scenario, my chances, percentage wise, of receiving the respect or love or sense of connection I’m seeking have just diminished to something pretty close to zero.

Judgments are tragic expressions of unmet needs, according to Rosenberg, because we form them only when we’re already sure we’re not going to get what we want, and the judgments themselves make it all but certain we’ll be right.

Listening Beyond Words

There’s an old saying that goes, “You’re speaking so loud, I can’t hear you.” As a mediator and collaborative attorney, my focus is on helping people listen beyond the surface of their spouse’s words to the deeper truth of what the other is really trying to say; to assist each in hearing and understanding the feelings and needs that hide beneath the other’s demands and judgments.

As this process unfolds, people are surprised by what they discover. “You’re a jerk” may really mean (for example), “I’m afraid because, if you’re not willing to help me, I don’t see how I can support myself.” “You’re selfish” may mean “I’m sad and frustrated because it seems you’re discouraging the children from wanting to spend time with me.”Few of us are aware of what we’re truly wanting when we lash out. Even fewer are aware of what another is trying to express when that person uses words that seem harsh, punishing or critical.

As you can perhaps imagine, when one authentically speaks the truth of what he or she wants, it’s far easier for the spouse to hear those words with openness and compassion. After all, “I’m afraid” or “I’m sad” is not threatening, whereas most of us feel defensive when someone seems to reproach us with negative judgments. Fortunately, once we’re aware of deeper feelings and needs – our own as well as another’s – judgments fall away.

When people see and recognize feelings and needs, they can move to a place where it feels authentic to say something along the lines of, “What you’re saying makes sense.” In resolving conflict, those simple words make a huge difference. We all need to feel not just heard but understood.

Please keep in mind that “You make sense” does not necessarily imply agreement. It doesn’t mean, “You were right about everything.” Rather, it means “I get where you’re coming from. I understand why, to you, things look the way they do.” When each spouse can honestly express understanding and empathy for the other in this manner, miracles happen.

Bridges of Trust

Working together in the ways I’ve described builds bridges of trust. Once people acknowledge and express appreciation for each other’s point of view, conflict tends to melt away – often effortlessly. Grudging compromises that make no one happy are rarely necessary. The spouses begin to identify creative solutions that neither could have fathomed earlier – solutions that meet everyone’s needs – because now, for the first time in a very long time, they understand each other. They may even discover themselves willing to compromise on issues that, before, had seemed completely intractable.

As people put together agreements from this place of understanding and empathy, there’s a “buy in,” a moment of transformation that occurs when each takes ownership of the settlement which they, together, have authored. From this point forward, everything looks different. Unlike orders imposed from on high by a judge or arbitrator, or a settlement into which spouses are strong armed by their attorneys, there’s neither resistance nor resentment toward agreements that people choose freely for themselves.

It’s unlikely that ex-spouses who have reached settlement using the process I’ve described will later wind up in court, either to enforce or revise their agreement. If something needs to be modified as the children mature or circumstances change, the former husband and wife will likely be able to work together to reach a new agreement. This may occur with the assistance of professionals, but just as likely between the parties, on their own, prior resentments having been cleared away and replaced with mutual respect and understanding.

Keys to the Kingdom

This process works when each party is both willing and able to act in good faith. By “good faith,” I mean the disclosure of all relevant information (such as income and financial documents), the placing of a high priority on the needs of children, and the intention to discover mutually beneficial agreements (even if it’s hard to imagine, at the outset, what those agreements might look like). In my experience, most any dispute, no matter how entrenched it may seem, can be resolved so long as these basic ingredients are present and the parties are guided by someone – or a team, in the case of Collaborative Divorce – skilled in the facilitation of conflict resolution.

In summary, the willingness to listen to another in a way that reveals his/her feelings and underlying needs, then share authentically one’s own feelings and needs, and be guided to a place where each can see through the eyes of the other is, in my opinion, to divorce with love.

Common Themes in Alternative Dispute Resolution

Alternative Dispute Resolution (ADR) is the term used to describe various processes to resolve conflict peacefully. It applies to those couples who sit down across the kitchen table and come up with their own agreement, to those who reach settlement with the help of a mediator, and to those who get there through the collaborative divorce process.

Following are a few conditions that must be present for any form of ADR to create a reasonable, lasting agreement that addresses the relevant issues:
1. First, full disclosure. It’s important that both parties have a thorough understanding of all assets, debts, information pertaining to the well being of the children, sources of income (including potential sources) and anything else relevant to a full and fair assessment of child custody, parenting time, division of property, spousal maintenance, child support, etc.
2. Each spouse must have an adequate understanding of his/her interests and needs (as well as those of the children). It’s also a good idea for each spouse to at least understand how a court would view the case, though they are not locked in to necessarily agreeing to terms similar to those which a court would order absent agreement of the parties. (One of the advantages of ADR is the freedom to make choices that go beyond anything the court would consider on its own.)
3. Good faith. This means that both spouses are open to discussing and considering all options. Neither is using the ADR process to prevent certain possibilities or to force a specific, predetermined outcome on the other.
4. If there’s a history of domestic violence or a dynamic in which one spouse is dominant, then this dynamic must be recognized and carefully, thoroughly addressed. Otherwise, what looks like agreement may, in fact, be capitulation. Sometimes collaborative divorce provides the necessary structure to address domestic violence since both parties are represented by their own attorneys. In some cases, additional resources must be brought to bear, such as coaches and/or the child specialist. And then there are cases where a power imbalance necessitates a litigation approach.
The bottom line is that it’s important for all issues to be fairly and reasonably addressed in light of all relevant information. ADR is not appropriate if either spouse is misusing the process to hide assets, hide income, incur debt, harm children, enforce his/her will on the other, drag out the divorce, prevent it from happening, obtain revenge or otherwise damage the other. ADR works only when both spouses are open to exploring options in a spirit of fairness. It’s not necessary for them to be in an easy or harmonious space. They may present with anger, fear, distrust or other challenging feelings. Well trained mediators know how to help people navigate conflict. The spouses must simply be willing to engage in good-faith dialog. If either spouse needs yet more support than mediation can offer, collaborative divorce provides for each to have his/her own attorney and also, when appropriate, for child specialists, coaches and financial professionals to be retained.

Why You Should Want Your Attorney to Play Nicely

Divorce clients, being unfamiliar with litigation, often arrive in my office convinced that the best attorney is the most aggressive, even the nastiest, lawyer they can find. In my experience this is rarely true.

Attorneys who play well together can help their clients resolve cases efficiently, by which I mean obtaining the best possible result at the lowest possible emotional and financial cost. Such attorneys can work together to help clients not get stuck in whatever emotion they’re feeling in the moment but, rather, help them to see the broader picture and address underlying needs. If the lawyers like and trust each other and communicate well, it’s so much easier to support the family in staying in the shallow end of the pool.

People sometimes worry that attorneys who share good rapport will somehow work together to run up legal fees or otherwise place their own interests ahead of those of the clients. I do not doubt that such things happen. However, in my almost 18 years of legal practice I’ve never seen it. Most attorneys take seriously their duty to place the client’s needs first. Problems arise, however, in differing understandings of what that means. In my view, highly adversarial attorneys are more likely than non-adversarial ones to run up costs in service to the needs of their own egos, most often their need to be seen as highly competent. However, they are rarely conscious of this. Non-adversarial attorneys who are skilled have had to spend years learning to see how and when their egos trip them up and have learned the importance of getting out of their own way. That doesn’t mean they do it perfectly all the time. But if the intention is there to be self-reflective and aware, one is far more likely to see when he or she is getting caught in his/her own need to be seen (by others but typically, even more, by oneself) as competent. Once one sees it, the jig is up and any decent human being (which, as stated above, believe it or not, most attorney are) is going to return the client’s needs to front and center.

Of course every case is different and so the skill set required of the attorney varies from one situation to another. No lawyer is perfectly suited to every case. But even when opposing counsel has a narrow view of what it means to be a good attorney and believes that advocacy is essentially obnoxious, it’s still usually best to be represented by an attorney with a broader, wiser approach who is open to creative problem solving.

Here’s why:

  1. Fighting fire with fire only results in ever-more destruction. The best antidote to fire is water. It’s important to have an attorney who is not afraid to stand up for you in court if that’s necessary. But even there the most successful attorneys typically take a measured approach. Judges are rarely impressed by attorneys who posture and make outlandish claims. In fact, such tactics can hurt the client’s credibility in the eyes of the court.
  2. Cases have twists an turns. Perhaps this moment requires a tough approach and a trip to court. As things unfold, an opportunity to work together toward settlement may open. If both attorneys have a fundamentally litigious approach, it’s far more likely such opportunity will be missed. Working together takes two. Therefore, it’s good if one of the attorneys is open to such an approach and just one of them needs to come around to the wisdom of such an approach.
  3. When it comes to tangible resources, there’s only so much to be divided. This is true for income, property and time with children. The more one spouse gets, the less the other receives. This is true regardless of approach. However, when attorneys throw hand grenades, it becomes ever-more difficult to reach lasting agreements that address everyone’s needs. It’s easy to get sucked into a battle that one never intended and that poisons the relationship between spouses. After that, they’re somehow supposed to raise their children together. Quite often, the bad feelings persist long after the decree of dissolution and the parenting plan have been entered.
  4. People often ask if divorce hurts children. My response is it’s never easy for kids, but most are resilient and will emerge largely unscathed if the parents divorce well, with mutual respect and compassion for each other, and if they work to tune in to the experience and needs of the children. Most important, the children must know that no one is divorcing them. They need to know that mom is still mom and dad is still dad, and that each parent wants them to have a close, loving relationship with the other parent. Of course there are occasions when a mom or a dad is toxic and, in those rare instances, it becomes most important to protect the child. Fortunately, such cases are rare. What’s not rare is for a parent’s view of the other to be colored by the experience of the divorce itself. For this reason, it can be really important to obtain broader perspectives from wise professionals (such as non-adversarial attorneys, child therapists, collaborative child specialists and coaches, etc.). Here too, attorneys working together to get to the truth of the matter can help clients arrive at the best possible outcomes. This may mean helping the spouses find the necessary emotional support and/or child-development knowledge to create a foundation from which they can place the needs of the children first.
  5. Since attorneys rarely work for free, you and your spouse wind up cutting your lawyers in on the finite pool of financial resources available to the family. Money that could better be devoted to a child’s college fund or to buying a new home or car or even a much needed post-dissolution vacation instead goes to the “zealous advocates.” Unless one spouse is acting in bad faith by harming a child, hiding assets, hiding income, running up debts, harassing or hurting the other spouse or in some similarly odious manner, this is not a good use of a family’s resources.
  6. Litigation is not fun. In fact, it’s extremely unpleasant. If you need to go there in order to protect your children or to protect an important interest of your own, that’s understandable. That’s what the court is there for. But to go before a judge for any other reason — such as (for example) to extract revenge, to prove something to the children, to achieve “justice,” or to avoid responsibility for the outcome — is, in my opinion, insane. I say this because, while you may make your spouse miserable, you and the children will be miserable too. In fact, your children may be permanently scarred. So the court should be viewed as analogous to the hospital emergency room — a place that’s painful, terrifying and expensive; and, if you need it, thank God it’s there.
  7. What are your memories worth? In an adversarial divorce, the well of positive memories is typically poisoned. So much so that people will often swear they never loved each other and never enjoyed each other’s company. Memory is not objective. In fact, memories get rewritten every time they are accessed. However, we’re not aware that we’re constantly rewriting them. Thus, it’s easy for them to shift and shift and shift, until everything that once was has turned to dust, not just in the present but also in our recollections of the past.
  8. What is your personal dignity worth? Adversarial divorce can have the feel of a public proctologic exam, as each spouse’s weaknesses are examined in detail in a public setting and in a permanent public record. Most often, both spouses will find friends and family taking sides. That means you’re likely to lose connection with people you’ve cared about and who have cared about you. It’s far easier to preserve relationships when both spouses are working together in good faith to find agreements and solutions that meet everyone’s needs.

This month’s Washington State Bar Association magazine, “NWLawyer,” ran an article that touches into some of the reasons you should want your attorney to play nicely. Titled, Motherhood Made Me a Different and Better Attorney, I found it paralleled my experiences as a collaborative attorney in learning, over time, what it means to represent clients wisely and effectively.

The author writes:

In July 2013, I lost my beloved five-and-a-half-year-old German shepherd mix to cancer. The week after I had to put him down, I had discovery responses due and client meetings, but I was an emotional mess. Instead of keeping this devastating loss private, I was honest with my clients about my loss when I had to cancel meetings, and with opposing counsel when I requested an extension. Opposing counsel was kind and empathetic; he also shared his own experience in recently losing a beloved family pet. My honesty with opposing counsel created a closer bond, and allowed us to communicate about our case more openly, which ultimately benefited my client when the case settled.

She also writes of how this new perspective benefits both her clients and the larger legal community:
While I understand litigation is naturally adversarial, and that we have a professional obligation to be zealous advocates, I do not believe that unnecessary posturing and aggression has ever benefited my clients. Having amicable and honest relationships with opposing counsel, on the other hand, not only better helps clients, but also improves the legal profession’s integrity. 
However lawyers gain this sort of perspective — whether by becoming a parent, learning to practice collaboratively, suffering a painful loss, deepening their spiritual practice, going through a nasty divorce, or in any other manner — it is, in my opinion, an essential insight if one intends to serve clients well.
Whatcom County is a small legal community and, thus, a great place to practice for those who want to do it with integrity. One’s reputation matters here. There is no anonymity. If an attorney is not professional, word gets out. Conversely, everyone knows who the hyper-aggressive attorneys are. Unfortunately, in our essentially violent culture, clients and their friends and family, not knowing any better, will often think it best to retain that sort of lawyer. Though there is a place for scorched earth litigation, in my opinion it’s rarely in the arena of family law. If one is suing Monsanto or some other huge corporation, I support going for the jugular. After all, red ink may be the only message that causes an amoral entity to alter its ways. But when dealing with the mother or father of your child, or — even without children — when dealing with someone you’ve loved and cared for, nastiness is rarely the wisest or most beneficial approach.

The Range and Breadth of Mediation

These Articles were published in the Whatcom County Bar Journal. Though written for the legal community, I’ve linked these articles because mediation is a broad field containing a whole range of styles and approaches that differ enormously. The style selected can have a huge impact on the likelihood of achieving settlement, the quality of settlement and the ease or difficulty of the experience. Therefore, this is really important information for spouses and other parties to family law cases to consider carefully.

Part one describes the types of mediation. Parts two and three will outline the strengths and weaknesses of each type of mediation and make recommendation for achieving best outcomes.

The Range and Breadth of Mediation – Part I

The Range and Breadth of Mediation – Part II

The Range and Breadth of Mediation – Part III