My lawsuit — the one that inspired this blog — settled.<\/p>\n
Perhaps granting the lawsuit its own dynamic, i.e., phrasing the settlement as if the lawsuit took care of it itself, sounds odd. But it isn’t. It’s accurate.<\/p>\n
I didn’t settle it, my lawyer didn’t, the defendants and their lawyers didn’t. It was a collaborative effort which of course is what settlements must be. Without collaboration leading to settlement, there is trial, and trial, whether by judge or jury, is terra incognita —\u00a0<\/em>a medieval map on which there is a wavery line and a legend written large: “Beyond this line there be dragons.”<\/p>\n I’ve written on Sidebar<\/strong> about the usual reaction to settlements:<\/a> no party is entirely satisfied. And the settlement of my broken foot lawsuit certainly fell into the related self-analytic rueful category of What Possessed Me To Settle For So Little Money?<\/a><\/p>\n But this<\/em> settlement, the co-op lawsuit settlement, broke the rule, at least for me. I am entirely satisfied. In fact, I stand on the border of unadulterated happiness. I don’t know if the defendants feel similarly and you know what? I don’t care.<\/p>\n So, considering my two settlements and the difference reactions I had to each, I can offer some advisory reflections about settling lawsuits.<\/p>\n Steps to achieving a settlement you’ll be satisfied with<\/strong><\/p>\n Let’s go way back into the beginnings of your lawsuit, to the Oh No! stage, when you realize you’ll have to sue. Here on Sidebar<\/strong> I’ve given you a number of steps you should be taking before you retain a lawyer. I’m adding one more: what do you want as the outcome of this lawsuit?<\/p>\n You’re suing because you’ve been harmed in some way. Your lawsuit is — must be — righteous. Let’s take that as a given.<\/p>\n As pained and wronged as you feel, there is probably only one outcome for your lawsuit, whether it goes to trial or judgment or settlement: money.<\/p>\n Money does not usually offer a panoramic satisfaction for a plaintiff. So much of what we want out of a lawsuit is inchoate, and will remain inchoate right up until the end. Whatever vague items are on your ending-the-lawsuit agenda — defendants’ apology, contrition, crawling down the street in a hairshirt whilst being whipped by a contingent of your friends and relations, et cetera — they will all evaporate when confronted by one consolidated cold number.<\/p>\n What is that number? And how do you calculate it?<\/p>\n Not emotionally. That seems fairly impossible, right? Hurt, a sense of wrong, a desire for some kind of vengeance are<\/em> emotional. And I can tell you that the anger that settles in over the course of a lawsuit does not fade into mild irritation. So rather than allowing the emotions to sweep you into an escalating value for your lawsuit — “I’ve been suffering for years! So for every year this thing goes on I want another half-million buckeroos!” — let’s see if I can settle us down to a rational way of calculating a decent settlement.<\/p>\n NEXT<\/strong>: Working out a (flexible) rational number to settle your lawsuit.<\/p>\n \n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" My lawsuit — the one that inspired this blog — settled. Perhaps granting the lawsuit its own dynamic, i.e., phrasing the settlement as if the lawsuit took care of it itself, sounds odd. But it isn’t. It’s accurate. I didn’t … Continue reading