Brooks Holland, formerly a Bronx public defender and now Lawprof at Gonzaga Law School, posed a question over at PrawfsBlawg :

With the start of the new school year, I’ve seen a lot of interesting a valuable discussion about teaching methods, such as whether to use the Socratic method or Power Point, or whether to ban or limit laptops in class. What I sometimes wonder most, though, as a relatively new teacher with no formal training in education, is how I should measure my success at achieving my ultimate goal: student learning … which of course is itself a loaded concept, since from what I can tell different law professors prioritize different things to be learned: doctrine, theory, critical thinking skills, professionalism, and so on. But whatever I want my students to learn, how should I measure my success at getting students to learn it through whatever methods I’ve chosen?

I can appreciate Brooks’ focus on student learning, as opposed to so many lawprofs’ concern for how many articles and how prestigious the law review in which they’re published.  It’s refreshing to have someone more concerned for the students than themself.

But it smells like Brooks may be looking for love in all the wrong places. 

The standard answer I have received to my question is student evals. And, my student evals have aided me tremendously in refining my teaching methods—I’m always impressed with how seriously some students take this opportunity to voice their opinion about their education. But I see some limitations to student evals, too.

Some students don’t complete the evals or take them as seriously as others, which leaves me with no idea of whether I’ve reached these students. Additionally, our evals, like many of the evals I remember completing as a student, ask pretty general questions like: “What has the professor done especially well?”, “What should the professor do to improve the teaching of this course?”, and “General comments.”

Well, duh.  Student evaluations are the last place you’re going to get the sort of feedback you need.  Students judge professors like a beauty pageant.  If they like the lawprof, the eval is good.  If they hate the lawprof, the eval is bad.  But students lack any basis to judge whether the lawprof is effective, and they won’t know what they’re talking about for at least another 5 years.  Students know squat.  That’s why they’re the students.

While Brooks writes that he does engage in a bit o’ the Socratic Method, but it’s not clear why:

And, to return to the topic of “Socratic” teaching, I regularly question my students in class not only to give them a chance to work through legal problems with me before I test them, but also so they can show me through their responses what they’re getting out of the class.

It seems to me that Brooks hasn’t been away from the courtroom that long that he doesn’t remember how judges can put the screws to a lawyer.  So what’s the point of using the Socratic Method if he’s not going to put the screws to his students?  Will the judge give them the “chance” to work through legal problems when their defendant is looking at 25 to life? 

But Brooks seems to have a handle on things when he writes that students can show him “through their responses what they’re getting out of the class.”  If they can stand up and take the heat, face the lawprof and make a cogent argument, then he’s getting through to them. 

So how does a lawprof determine whether he’s successful at his primary function?  Make them think and act like lawyers.  If they can’t, something is wrong.  And if they like you too much when the fill out the student evaluations, you’ve really blown it.  They shouldn’t appreciate you until they’ve logged some time as real lawyers, when they will first understand what being a lawyer really means.

Anybody can learn conlaw.  Not everybody can stand up and take a punch in the gut.  Hey Brooks, you put in your time standing in the well in the Bronx.  Your job is to teach them to do it too. 

Update:  And for the law students wondering what to do when the lawprof puts the screws to them, Orin Kerr’s got an answer:  I dunno.  Clients just love it when they’re facing life and the best their lawyer can come up with is “I dunno.”  Honesty trumps competence every time.  I swear.