By Anthony May and Lauren DiMartino

Lawyers are trained to think in terms of rules, precedent, and argument. But in practice, our most persuasive tool isn’t always legal analysis—it’s the story we tell.

Every case is, at its core, a human narrative. And while the law demands clarity and logic, decision-makers—judges, juries, arbitrators, and the public at large—respond most deeply to stories that are vivid, honest, and purposeful.

Why Storytelling Matters in Law

A powerful legal story is more than just a timeline. It has characters, conflict, and consequences. It shows instead of just telling. And it positions your client within a broader frame of meaning—whether as a person wronged, a community member striving for fairness, or a survivor seeking redress.

Of course, all stories are unique. The choices you make—what facts to include, how to sequence events, who gets named and who doesn’t—shape how your client is perceived and whether your legal position resonates.

When done well, this kind of storytelling does three things:

• Engages the reader.
• Humanizes the client.
• Anchors the legal argument in real-world impact.

Writing With Purpose

Every fact you write should serve one of three purposes:

• Legal – Does this fact support or challenge a key legal element?
• Background – Does it help provide context to the reader, so they understand the big picture?
• Emotional – Does it convey a state of mind, evoke empathy or prejudice, or highlight stakes?

Even if the facts don’t change—their arrangement and emphasis can radically alter their emotional and rhetorical impact. That’s the power, and the responsibility, of legal storytelling.

How Voice Shapes Accountability

Another critical storytelling tool is voice—specifically, active versus passive construction. We’re often taught to only use active voice in legal writing, but the intentional use of passive voice can obscure agency and reduce emotional clarity, which may be the goal in some instances (usually for defendants).

Compare these two versions of the same event:

• On January 2, 2020, the front door of Francis’s house was kicked in and she was attacked.
  → This version centers the event, not the person who caused it. The reader knows what happened, but not who did it.
• On January 2, 2020, the defendant kicked in the door of Francis’s house and attacked her.
  → This version is clearer, more forceful, and assigns direct responsibility. It’s also more vivid and emotionally engaging.

Small linguistic choices like these can transform how the reader experiences the story—and how they respond to it.

The Storytelling Framework

To build a persuasive narrative, consider these elements:

• Scope: What’s the central conflict? What story are you choosing to tell?
• Casting: Who is named? Are your clients given full identities while adversaries are genericized—or vice versa? For example:
  • Referring to someone as “a prisoner” vs. “Mr. Smith” sends a message.
  • Although we typically refer to a plaintiff with the use of a salutation (“Mr. Doe”) when writing a complaint about abuse that took place while the plaintiff was a child, referring to them by their first name (John) may resonate more with the reader.
• Plot: How do the events unfold? What details build tension or resolution?
• Time Frame: When does the story begin? When does the trouble start? When is redress possible?
  • Consider the use of time transitions (e.g., “weeks later,” “shortly after”) to add movement and build momentum.
• Human Plight: What’s at stake for your client? How might a plaintiff leave the story as opposed to the defendant?
  • For example, a plaintiff may want to leave a story more open ended: it’s the jury that has power to determine how a story ends.
• Setting: Can the reader picture the scene? Smell the hallway? Hear the door slam?

Good legal writers make these choices intentionally—not just for clarity, but for persuasion.

The Ethics of Storytelling: Enter Critical Rhetoric

Effective storytelling isn’t just strategic. It’s ethical.

Trauma-informed lawyering means crafting stories that empower rather than retraumatize and being vigilant about language that reinforces harmful stereotypes.

We must ask:

• Whose voice is being centered?
• Who is being described as a full person—and who as a category?
• Are we inviting the reader into a lived experience, or keeping them at a clinical remove?

Critical rhetoric challenges lawyers to think about how traditional legal language can reinforce systems of power. We as lawyers have an ethical obligation to use our power in responsible ways. We encourage readers to think of law as a form of critical rhetoric and to consider how the language used in your arguments contributes to or deconstructs harmful historical patterns and inequities embedded in the law.

For example, the concept of reasonableness is often treated as neutral—but in practice, it can erase context and perpetuate dominant norms. Who decides what’s “reasonable”? And whose experiences are left out of that calculus? When the standard of reasonableness was developed what groups of people were not considered to have reason by default?

In her TED Talk, “The Danger of a Single Story,” author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie discusses the inherent power in the ability to tell the story of another person, but reminds us of the risk in making it the definitive story of that person.

As Professor Teri McMurtry-Chubb has argued, legal rhetoric shapes reality. If we’re not careful, the law can be rhetoric that entrenches harmful thought patterns about privilege and power, invisibilize trauma, or justify inequity by dressing up biased assumptions in the guise of objectivity.

Words Create Outcomes

Legal stories matter. They don’t just explain events; they shape judgments, affect settlements, and influence precedent. Most importantly, when done right, they vindicate and empower our clients and win the favor of the public.

So, the next time you draft a Statement of Facts, ask yourself:

• What story am I telling?
• How do my word choices shape that story?
• Am I making space for empathy and humanity?

Because law is not just about rules. It’s about people. And the most enduring advocacy—whether it’s trial, an appeal, or pre-litigation negotiations—begins with a story that comes alive to the reader.

Brown, Goldstein & Levy provides the highest quality legal services to a broad range of clients, without sacrificing our deep sense of community and social responsibility. By elevating our clients’ voices and fighting for their rights, we seek to bring about a more just world—sometimes one dispute at a time, sometimes through systemic change. If you or a loved one is experiencing a legal issue, consider contacting us today to discuss your situation.

This blog was adapted from the presentation Anthony and Lauren gave at the Maryland State Bar Association’s 2025 Legal Summit.