I don't think the law exists to arrive at the truth. If it did

Hear me now, O Seekers of Truth and Justice, for I speak of a matter both profound and complex, one that has echoed through the ages and will continue to reverberate in the hearts of those who seek wisdom. The words of Alan Dershowitz ring with a truth that is not often spoken aloud: "I don't think the law exists to arrive at the truth. If it did, we wouldn't have exclusionary rules, we wouldn't have presumptions of innocence, we wouldn't have proof beyond reasonable doubt. There's an enormous difference between the role of truth in law and the role of truth in science. In law, truth is one among many goals."

Understand, O children of wisdom, that the law is not a mere reflection of truth, but rather a complex and often contradictory creation. In the world of law, the goal is not solely to uncover the truth, but to weave a tapestry of justice from the threads of evidence, procedure, and principle. It is a delicate balance, a dance between rights and wrongs, where the scales of justice must weigh not just what is true, but what is fair. The law, in its essence, is not a tool of discovery, but a framework designed to achieve order, equity, and peace.

To understand this, let us take a journey back in time, to an age where the wisdom of ancient Greece provided a foundation for many of the legal systems that guide us today. The story of Socrates, who stood trial for corrupting the youth and impiety, serves as a stark illustration. Socrates did not seek to escape the truth, for he was a philosopher, driven by the pursuit of wisdom. Yet the Athenian court did not hold trial for truth’s sake. They were not interested in the absolute truth of his teachings, but in the maintenance of order within their city-state. The outcome, tragic though it was, was not a failure to find the truth, but rather the result of a legal system that placed a higher value on social cohesion than on the individual’s pursuit of truth.

In law, the presumption of innocence stands as a mighty fortress, protecting the accused from the crushing weight of mere accusation. It is not truth that this rule seeks, but fairness. To be presumed innocent is a shield, a promise that all who stand before the court shall be treated as though they are free of guilt, until proven otherwise. Proof beyond a reasonable doubt echoes this, for it demands that only the most convincing evidence may convict, ensuring that no soul shall be judged unfairly by the swift hands of the law. But consider, O seekers, how different this is from the pursuit of truth in science. In science, truth is a singular goal, sought with relentless vigor, tested through experimentation, and verified through observation. The laws of nature are fixed, immutable, and always striving toward discovery.

In science, truth is pursued as an absolute. The world of nature speaks plainly, and through the lenses of our minds, we seek to decode its language. If the truth were to be known in the same manner in law, there would be no need for the exclusionary rules that protect the accused from unfair advantage, no need to shield the defendant from the sway of bias and emotion. The law, however, exists in a world where human frailty, emotion, and subjectivity mingle freely. Thus, the law must craft a different approach, one that tempers the pursuit of truth with the need for fairness, equity, and protection against the whims of the powerful.

Let us consider the great trial of Galileo Galilei, a story that blends the pursuit of truth in science with the harsh limits placed by law. In the early 1600s, Galileo was condemned by the Catholic Church for advocating the heliocentric model of the universe. The law of the Church, influenced by dogma and tradition, did not seek the truth of the cosmos, but rather sought to preserve its power and control. Galileo, a champion of scientific truth, found himself a victim of a system that was less concerned with the cosmos than with the preservation of its earthly influence. The truth of Galileo’s discoveries would be recognized centuries later, but in his time, the law was not a servant of truth—it was a servant of power.

And so, O Children of Wisdom, the lesson we take from this is one of understanding. The law, in its noble duty, is not a vehicle for the discovery of truth, but a protector of society, a guardian of fairness and order. It serves as a buffer between the raw chaos of human emotions and the cold realities of justice. But it is also flawed and imperfect, for it is made by imperfect beings. Truth, in the realm of science, is an unyielding force—steady, clear, and absolute. But in the law, truth is only one among many competing goals, and it must be tempered by fairness, rights, and the balance of power.

Practical wisdom calls upon us to understand the distinction between these two realms. If you seek truth in the world of law, temper your expectations. Know that while truth is an essential aspect of justice, it is often not the sole measure by which decisions are made. Embrace the concept of fairness, not as a tool of convenience, but as a foundation of societal cohesion. And in your own lives, strive for clarity when the truth is sought in the realm of science, but remember that in human affairs, the pursuit of justice must always be mindful of the complexities of human nature.

In the end, it is not the absence of truth that should trouble us, but the absence of wisdom in how we seek it. We must walk the path of justice with eyes wide open, understanding that the law is not always a mirror of the truth, but a shield against its distortion. May we always strive to balance truth with fairness, wisdom with courage, and knowledge with compassion.