Monday, February 16, 2009

Lyric Connections

Throughout her musical career, and particularly since more attention has been brought to her music through the hit film Slumdog Millionaire, rap artist M.I.A. has generated both controversy and praise. As the child of a Tamil activist, M.I.A., has been accused of glorifying the Tamil Tigers and their cause. At the same time, she has been praised for bringing Tamil identity and culture to a mainstream audience that was previously deprived of such information and representation. And, her recent performance at the Grammy awards can be argued to have been attention getting and full of meaning on other levels. During this performance, in which she began by singing her song, “Paper Planes,” before sharing the stage with well-established male rap musicians Jay-Z, Kanye West and TI, M.I.A. made a statement as a female artist. This statement was given extra meaning as she was nine-months pregnant at the time of her performance, and made no attempt to hide or minimize this fact. Thus, M.I.A.’s performance at the Grammy’s conveyed messages regarding her singing ability and the acceptance of her music, her ethnic identity, the potential of female rap artists, and the compatibility of maternity and the rap world – which is often portrayed as a rough, male-dominated world where women are objectivized in negative, sexual tones.


Moving beyond M.I.A.’s personality and Grammy performance to an examination of her song, “Paper Planes,” one finds that it contains messages not otherwise discussed in traditional analysis of the song but still of startling importance. The exact lyrics to “Paper Planes” are as follows:


I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait

I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait

Sometimes I think sitting on trains
Every stop I get 'till I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner we're making our fame
Bonafide hustler making my name

Sometimes I think sitting on trains
Every stop I get 'till I'm clocking that game
Everyone's a winner we're making our fame
Bonafide hustler making my name

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bones
Running when we hit 'em
Lethal poison for their system

Pirate skulls and bones
Sticks and stones and weed and bones
Running when we hit 'em
Lethal poison for their system

No one on the corner has swagga like us
Hit me on my banner prepaid wireless
We pack and deliver like UPS trucks
Already going hard just pumping that gas

No one on the corner has swagga like us
Hit me on my banner prepaid wireless
We pack and deliver like UPS trucks
Already goin hard just pumpin' that gas

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAAA CHING!)
And take your money

M.I.A.
Third world democracy
Yeah, I got more records than the K.G.B.
So, uh, no funny business
YOU ARE ALREADY ARE!

Some some some I some I murder
Some I some I let go
Some some some I some I murder
Some I some I let go

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAA CHING!)
And take your money

All I wanna do is (BANG BANG BANG BANG!)
And a (KKKAAA CHING!)
And take your money


The generally accepted reading of these lyrics is that they are meant to compare the recording industry with the drug trade. This reading is certainly justifiable. However, a deeper reading of these lyrics is even more insightful. Taken as a whole, the lyrics speak to an overarching sense of citizenship in both legitimate and illegitimate legal orders. One sees the need to at least superficially comply with the legitimate legal order which is embodied in concepts of the state – through references to having visas, standard methods of travel in any society, the use of established international commercial and communication entities, and even the use of force. At the same time, one sees the existence of another legal order, embodied by an illegitimate legal system. This system exists under the surface of the legitimate legal system, through the production of fake visas and state-issued documents, drug use, gangs, the seemingly arbitrary decision as to who to kill and who to spare, and references to being part of an entity which descends from other illegitimate orders (pirates, children who cannot govern themselves, and, ultimately, drug culture).


These legal orders can be seen as existing in separate worlds and in tension with each other throughout the song. However, it is the points at which there is an intersection between these two worlds that the song makes its most powerful statement about each world and system. In the first and second verses, the legitimate legal order, embodied by visas and proper, state-generated documentation, is undermined and threatened by the existence of an illegitimate order that can produce these indicia of legality without state involvement – or, seemingly, detection. In the third and forth verses, these worlds come together in the specter of the narrator riding on a train, which could be either a concrete example or a metaphor, but in either instance involves the use of a legitimate, accepted entity in society to advance less than legitimate goals.


Verse nine contains perhaps the most overt link between the two systems through the reference to “third world democracy” directly. Certainly, this verse can be seen as a statement regarding the artist’s musical successes in the developing world. However, another reading of this verse is as an indictment of the concept of “third world democracy,” in which, the inference from references to having “more records than the KGB” and permitting “no funny business” implies, freedom in reality is not what it is claimed to be through the adoption of the moniker “democracy” for the applicable governmental and legal system. If linked to the ninth verse, the tenth verse is a further condemnation of the governmental structures of “third world democracy” in that it demonstrates the arbitrariness of justice in these legal and governmental systems. If read alone, the tenth verse is still a juxtaposition of the legitimate and illegitimate legal systems generally, because it conveys the message that decisions regarding punishment for unspecified acts are made by a particular person/entity in each system, and implies a sense of arbitrariness regarding the application of justice in both systems.


Thus, regardless of intent, this song speaks to more than the contrasts and similarities within the drug and recording industry worlds. Rather, it characterizes the juxtapositions and disjunctions between the legitimate and illegitimate legal ad governmental systems that occur generally and particularly in less developed systems of democratic government.

Sources
Paper Planes Lyrics are available at: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/m/mia/paper_planes.html .
Thomas Fuller, An International Star, M.I.A. Not So Popular at Home, IHT.Com, Feb. 11, 2009, available at http://www.iht.com/articles/2009/02/11/asia/mia.php .

Keywords: Sri Lanka, Tamil, M.I.A., democratic governments, legal systems.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Multiple Visions of Justice

As mentioned in a previous blog entry, an integral part of the storyline for this season of 24 involves the fictional African state of Sangala, where acts of genocide akin to those committed during the Rwandan conflict are being perpetrated under the military junta of General Juma. There are many elements to this storyline which implicate international law and, indeed, the domestic laws and policies of the United States. Two conversations regarding justice, however, are of particular interest for the issues they raise.


The first conversation takes place between former Prime Minister Matobo of Sangala and the American president, Allison Taylor. Matobo is regarded by the US as the legitimately elected prime minister of Sangala. The conversation I wish to address takes places in the Oval Office, where Matobo and Taylor are discussing the conditions of US support for Matobo’s forces in Sangala. At the end of the conversation, President Taylor is adamant that General Juma be tried in a forum viewed as legitimate by the international community and not be subjected to any form of retributive justice when the joint US/Sangalan operations to remove Juma and reinstate Matobo are complete. Prime Minister Matobo is at first opposed to this idea, preferring the idea of handling Juma in a more retributive manner than that envisioned by President Taylor. However, when it appears that the issue of how to handle Juma after the joint operations are complete is a near deal-breaker, Matobo agrees to try Juma in the manner requested by President Taylor.


The second conversation takes place several episodes later and in entirely different circumstances. Through a plot engineered by Jack Bauer and his associates, Matobo agrees to be handed over to Dubaku, a senior member of General Juma’s junta who is in the US to ensure that the US government does not in fact provide assistance to Matobo. The plan is for Matobo and his wife to be handed over to Dubaku so that Bauer and his compatriots can recover a device being used in an attempt to blackmail President Taylor into calling off US military assistance to Sangala, and then to rescue the Matobos before Dubaku can harm them. In the face-to-face meeting between Matobo and Dubaku – the first that the audience has seen – we learn some of the history between these two men. Dubaku scornfully recounts that their last meeting was in the Prime Minister’s residence, accompanied by a very good wine. Dubaku reminds Matobo that he gave him the chance to retain that post, be a part of the junta and have a lucrative and long-lived career as Prime Minister. However, Matobo refused this offer and insisted on carrying through with democracy in Sangala; a decision which led to his ouster at the hands of General Juma, Dubaku and their like-minded associates. After this bitter reminiscence, Dubaku then informs Matobo that they will go home to Sangala together and that Matobo will face justice under the military junta there.


Individually, these conversations are of note for the way in which they use justice as a coercive tool. In both situations, a particular notion of justice is advanced as an idea to which Matobo must submit, although the punishment for failing to do so is far graver in his conversation with Dubaku than with President Taylor. Together, however, the conversations offer several important messages about concepts of justice.


The first message is the idea of “home” or “traditional” versus “international” justice. In the conversation between Matobo and Taylor, we see that Matobo himself is not above imposing a traditional style of justice for those who deposed him and perpetrated genocide in Sangala. However, this idea of justice is scorned by President Taylor, who insists that an internationally accepted system of justice be used to punish those responsible for the Sangalan genocide. Thus, Matobo must choose whether to gain the support of the American – and presumably international – community by complying with these norms or to fight without outside support and impose a more traditional sense of justice if his forces win. The choice is clear to Matobo; sometimes the needs of the immediate are more important than a hypothetical future. Meanwhile, in the second conversation there is no choice of justice per se. Dubaku’s threat of sending Matobo to Sangala for judgment is a threat to send him to his death because the system of justice employed by the junta is shaped by the message of the junta, which is that everything Matobo stood for is wrong. This reinforces a scene from the preview 24 movie, in which newly indoctrinated child soldiers are told by Dubaku that their parents have made them weak and that the government, as the agent of the white oppressor, has made the state weak, but that together they could defeat these forces and be strong. Thus, in these two conversations we see three ideas of justice and it’s purpose, each a bit murkier and less credible than the other.


The second message is that of legitimacy through justice and judicial systems. In the first conversation, President Taylor stresses the importance of an internationally accepted method of justice for Juma and his associates as a path to legitimacy for Matobo and a democratic Sangala. Although Matobo might have seen another system of justice as a way to better integrate the democratic state with the beliefs of his society, he accepted Taylor’s request pragmatically. In so doing, however, Matobo also indicated that he was willing to accede to a standard of judicial legitimacy that was recognized by the international community. In the second conversation, the use of justice as a source of legitimacy takes on a new meaning. Here, justice – at least that of Juma’s junta – is used as a threat against Matobo. More than a threat, however, the idea of subjecting Matobo to the Juma regime’s form of justice is an attempt to assert the Juma regime’s legitimacy over the citizens of Sangala, especially those who are still loyal to Matobo. It is a means of targeting those associated with Matobo as well, and making them criminal for the purposes of the existing law. Unlike Matobo, the Juma regime is not concerned about the international community’s view of its justice system; rather, it is concerned with using the justice system created by the regime to eradicate dissent within its borders. Thus, with these conversations, 24 has created two frames within which justice will be established and invoked in Sangala.

For more information on 24, see: http://www.fox.com/24/

Keywords: 24, Jack Bauer, justice, international trials, military regimes.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Defiance - The Film

Yesterday evening, I had the opportunity to watch the film Defiance, based on the book, Defiance: The Bielski Partisans written by noted scholar and Holocaust survivor Nechama Tec (who had high praise for the film). The film depicts the resistance and survival of Jewish partisans who lived in the forests of Belorussia, through hunger, treacherous winters, and attacks by Nazi soldiers and local Nazi collaborators. Far from just fending off such attacks, the Bielski Otriad also waged dangerous offensives of their own.

To be sure, the film is in large part about the resistance of a targeted population (Jews in Belorussia) against their Nazi predators. However, what the film also demonstrates is a far more complex and dynamic series of confrontations between resistive power and dominant power (See Sharp et al. 1999). Put another way, the film avoids depicting a simplistic binary dialectic between a singular unit of resistance against a more powerful dominant entity (e.g. the Bielskis v. the Nazis). There are multiple sources of dominant power that are confronted by various sources of resistant power, in addition to plural forms of resistance that are engaged in. For instance, while the Bielski Otriad shared a common enemy (the Nazis) with the other partisan groups, the Bielski Otriad also had to confront anti-Semitism that emanated from these other partisan groups – for example the beating of a Jewish partisan for using the same latrine as a Russian officer – not all resisters are treated equally. Ultimately, Zus, one of the four Bielski brothers (the second oldest), deserts the Russian partisan group that he and others Jewish partisans had joined (which could have earned them an execution) in order to help his brothers who are about to be under siege by the Nazis. He does this in part because the Russian Otriad refuses to assist and help the Bielski Otriad. Thus Zus’s desertion (along with his assaults on the Nazis) is an act of resistance waged against a Russian partisan group that could care less about the safety of the Bielski Otriad based in part because they are Jewish.

The Bielski Otriad’s collective efforts against the Nazis, and Zus’s desertion from the Russian Otriad depicts them as protagonists. Yet, interestingly, the film depicts the Bielski brothers, particularly Tuvia Bielski (the eldest brother) not only as exemplars of resistant power, but also as dominant power within the context of power relationships within the Bielski Otriad’s camp. At one stage while Tuvia is suffering from typhus and Zus is serving with the Russian Otriad, certain fighters within the Bielski Otriad assert power and challenge Tuvia’s authority as commander, law maker and enforcer. Facing this challenge, Tuvia summarily executes the leader of this declared takeover and reasserts control. Tuvia then orders that the body of the slain mutineer is to be placed out into the woods for the wolves to devour – a deterrent for others who are thinking about defying Tuvia. This executed mutineer is depicted as harassing the wife of Tuvia’s younger brother Asael and thus a demeaning and oppressive source within the camp. Also he beats on Asael who is smaller and continually attempts to defy the notion of equality that each person receives the same amount of food rations, regardless of whether they are “fighters” or not. Here Tuvia’s dominating power is used to assert a normativity that respects women’s right to be free from harassment and a sense of equality. Therefore not all dominant power is constructed as evil and not all resistant power as benevolent.

Tuvia is also challenged when his order that no pregnancies will be allowed is defied, albeit unintentionally. His order is issued in the context of prohibiting pregnancies originating between members in the camp – the forest and their conditions being an unfit milieu to raise and sustain a child. However, one of the women amongst the Bielski Otriad, prior to escaping to the forest from the ghetto was raped by a Nazi guard. Once Tuvia discovers that the child has been delivered in the camp, he orders that she and her baby leave the camp. He is persuaded against this action by his lover and future wife, Lilka. The resistance here works, not through force or violence but through persuasion and interlocution. Of course what we see, in actuality is an implied exception to a rule, the woman did not get pregnant intentionally through sexual relations in the camp which would have blatantly defied Tuvia’s orders. Nevertheless, Tuvia was reluctant to let her stay and so what the scene exhibited was that Tuvia’s rules were also subject to resistance and negotiation.

The film of course not only charts multiple relationships of resistance and domination, it is also an exhibitor of legal normativity and more specifically competing normativities. Within the context of Belorussia, the Nazis who have invaded that geographic space control a sizable area, but they do not hold monolithic control. The Bielski Otriad, amongst others, carves out its own geography of resistant power and legal normativity. This geographic space however is not static but mobile, for remaining in one place is perilous, as they are hunted within their resistive space and must move to other places in the forest for safety. Within that resistive space, rules/laws were established within the camp – e.g. everyone would work, everyone would contribute. In the survival context of the Bielski Otriad, rules were necessary for the continued existence and security of the whole group. Resistant power cannot escape the creation of legal norms in order to preserve and sustain itself.

Defiance is an interesting and compelling representation of the complexity and diversity of power relationships between dominant and resistant power, and how identities within this context are fluid – Tuvia is both resister and dominant authority; Zus is both a resister of the Nazis but also the Russian Otriad that he eventually deserts. The film also fascinatingly captures the manner in which legal norms are formed, modified and how they are in competition with other generators of normativity, both between groups and within.

Source cited:

Joanne P. Sharp et al., "Entanglements of Power: Geographies of Domination/Resistance" in Joanne P. Sharpe et al. eds., Entanglements of Power: Geographies of Domination/Resistance (New York: Routledge, 1999), 1-42.

Further readings:

Nechama Tec, Defiance: The Bielski Partisans (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993).

Steve Pile and Michael Keith, eds. Geographies of Resistance (New York: Routledge, 1997).

Paul Routledge, "Critical Geopolitics and Terrains of Resistance" (1996) 15 Political Geography 509.

Friday, February 6, 2009

The Resistance Strain in Jurisculture.

Hollywood* and its audiences are often drawn to the metaphor of the resister – whether in the mould of the rebel, the cowboy, the vigilante or generally the individual who rails “against the system” - in short, variants of a resistant personality. Although not necessarily interchangeable, the ethos they collectively bring to the screen is that of an individual willing to flout norms - inter alia legal, political, social, and/or cultural norms - perhaps in favour of implanting/enforcing a new one or a re-interpretation of pre-existing formulations. This ethos is manifested in a variety of ways and contexts – including the legal, the political, and/or the medical. In many (but not all) of my posts that will follow (over ensuing weeks, months), and as a subplot within our overall discussion of jurisculture, I will examine how resistance as a challenge to existing dominant power structures and legal normativities – whether as understood as the flouting of the norms generated by the state, or by society more largely – plays itself out in/through various cultural mediums. As a teaser, I will briefly sketch below, some of the initial ideas/explorations/questions I intend to examine in my subsequent posts on resistance, law and culture mediums.†

1. The role of juries in legitimizing/endorsing unlawful acts through acquittals despite the patent unlawfulness of the defendant’s act(s) vis-à-vis the established laws of the state (jury nullification) (e.g. A Time to Kill, as well as episodes of The Practice and Picket Fences). Through such acts of legitimization, to what degree do juries transform the jury box into a geographical space of resistance? Are juries in such circumstances independent resisters or are they derivative participants in the defendant’s resistance, or both?

2. Notwithstanding the imagery of discipline and order that is supposed to permeate military spaces or spaces where the military are present (e.g. the military base, the naval ship, submarines, aircrafts, military court rooms, battlefields (both as traditionally conceived or in urbanscapes)), how does the metaphor of the resister, whether in the form of the military lawyer (A Few Good Men), investigator (The General’s Daughter), submarine commander (Crimson Tide), the war hero/veteran denouncing war and the enterprise of the military (Born of the Fourth of July), or the whistleblowing soldier (Casualties of War, A Few Good Men) help to re-orient our perceptions about the justifiable use of resistance in defiance of norms staked out by power structures within the military?

3. The metaphor of the wrongfully convicted prisoner refusing to accept his/her lot by campaigning for his/her own release (In the Name of the Father, The Hurricane) or by simply and more radically escaping it (Shawshank Redemption). In what ways does the metaphor of the resister transform the prison, as a site of the state and controlled by the state into a geographic space of resistance where the state has committed the wrong by depriving the innocent of their liberty in the first place?

4. The lawyer who clearly flouts the norms that regulate the legal profession, including: the revelation of confidential and privileged client information to save/help another individual and/or adverse party in a lawsuit (The Practice); the disclosure of information about their own clients’ crime and/or otherwise tortious conduct (And Justice for All; Class Action), or; (as law student) failure to divulge information that may mitigate an individual’s crime (The Reader).

5. The current or former employee/insider who reveals confidential information about the actions (or misconduct) of the employer that are harmful (The Insider; A Civil Action; Erin Brockovich; All the President’s Men; The West Wing) or may be harmful to the general public. Such resistive acts can constitute breaches of express or implied contractual obligations within the employment relationship and how does the resistive act serve to alter or recalibrate such relationships of power?

6. The police officer(s) or state agent(s) who transgress certain established norms against killing (Lethal Weapon 2) or conducting investigations or interrogations in a manner that undermines the express or implied rights of an accused (The General’s Daughter, 24, Mississippi Burning).

*For the purposes of this post, I use the term Hollywood here to refer not only to films but also television.

† These are of course brief sketches which I may come back to and amplify here or in a subsequent post when I discuss these examples in a more in-depth manner. Further, the examples I provided from specific film or television programs are not (intended to be) exhaustive and in some ways, are just merely examples that comes to mind at present. I may of course use other situations or examples that do not involve those identified.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

The Idol Jury Part II

With the end of the audition phase of American Idol this week, this post seeks to amplify the issues raised in “The Idol Jury Part I” and to raise new aspects of the potential legal implications of the program.


Season 8 featured open auditions in eight cities. While there was a noticeable decline in the emphasis on quantities of oddities among contestants, such examples did exist and they were indeed highlighted. The contestants this season were from a multitude of races, religions, ethnicities and social backgrounds. Collectively, they represented the good, the bad, and the ugly in the realm of singing and performing abilities, as well as personalities. The stories of contestants ranged from the bizarre to the heartwarming to the heart wrenching. And the judges’ attitudes and antics ranged from objective to joking to unusual; this was seemingly amplified by the presence of a new judge on the panel. Apart from providing several nights of weekly entertainment – and perhaps boosting one’s ego while singing in the shower – what impacts can the Idol auditions have on juries?


The auditions reinforced the trend noted in “The Idol Jury I” regarding highlighting differences between the contestant and at least a portion of the viewing public, while at the same time establishing a sense of commonality between the contestant and another portion of the viewing public. Footage regarding the contestants frequently discussed their nationality, ethnicity, and other backgrounds, while other footage of family and friends silently emphasized the same traits. For those who do not share these traits, this emphasizes differences, which is a frequent concern during the voire dire process, where lawyers and judges (depending on jurisdiction) attempt to divine a potential juror’s prejudices or preferences regarding these traits. At the same time, this also has the potential to create feelings of support and empathy in viewers who share the same features and background, again mimicking the voire dire process. Unlike in the jury system, there is no preemptory challenge when it comes to Idol voting at later stages in the contest, however the Idol example illustrates the importance of having such challenges in the jury process. Much the same can be said for highlighting the physical attractiveness or unattractiveness of contestants which Idol’s programming makes possible on a yearly basis.


The auditions also showcase aspects of human personalities and motives that a juror might well see in the courtroom. Frequently, we are told the stories of contestants for whom a chance to advance in the Idol competition would afford a better life, often for their families as well as the contestants themselves. Through the highlighting of these instances, the viewer is directed to feel empathy for the contestant and to want them to succeed. This situation parallels the situation in which many jurors find themselves when they observe testimony given at trial that emphasizes the hard circumstances or grotesque injuries suffered by a party to the litigation, as well as for what their family endured or continues to endure. In this way, the program conditions potential jurors to feel sympathy, empathy, or both for those who have presented stories of personal or familial suffering.


At the same time, Idol’s showcasing of contestants who are convinced of their singing abilities – and the families/friends who support them – only to demonstrate that their abilities are sub-par at best mimics another scenario with which a potential juror might be confronted. While some sympathy might be felt for these contestants, the primary reaction, as framed by the program itself, is one of ridicule and disbelief, not only for the contestants but also for those who have convinced themselves of their abilities. Idol also presents contestants who seem to have based their entire sense of self-esteem on being a part of the Idol contest. It is easy to think that members of this collective class of Idol contestants are delusional and out of touch with reality based on their conviction in their abilities despite the judge’s assessment. In a similar vein, it is possible that a juror will encounter a situation in which a party or witness whose testimony or actions seem to be deluded or unrealistic or who seems to base their identity on being a stellar witness or plaintiff/defendant. Such people can become argumentative or defensive when challenged by counsel during a trial in a manner similar to the attitudes displayed by many Idol contestants when informed by the judges that they can’t sing. The reactions of viewers to these Idol contestants can thus reinforce the perceptions of these same viewers as potential jurors. Inspiring these sentiments – ranging from amusement to disgust – and shaping them for the viewers, allows the viewers to have more reinforced conceptions of such witnesses in the trial setting.


In terms of framing the reactions of potential jurors to parties and witnesses at trial, there is one other area in which Idol can be seen as having an impact. Throughout the program, the judges are frequently critical of the contestants, sometimes hypercritical. This can inspire many reactions in viewers, and some of these will be readdressed in later blog postings. What should be addressed here is the sense of compassion and sympathy that the judges’ comments can evoke in the viewer. Thus, the viewer’s opinion of a particular contestant can be formed in large part by the actions and attitudes of the judges. This is similar to the ways in which a counsel badgering or being unkind to a witness or party can make jurors more sympathetic towards that person, which in turn can increase that person’s credibility.