Humanity in a Hallway: How a Few Kind Words Can Make a Big Difference
Humanity sometimes shows up where you least expect it. I had one experience with this years ago while representing a plaintiff at a mediation. Taking a break in a hallway, I met one of the adjusters from the other side. He said something I never expected - leaving me surprised, moved, and humbled by my earlier misperception of the man.
At the time, I was a trial attorney in a dedicated personal injury firm. Then, as always, I took care to present cases that I believed to be honest, credible, and compelling. Invariably, however, I sometimes ended up with evidence that was limited or conflicting. Defense counsel and adjusters would, of course, zero in on those vulnerabilities. A typical example was a soft tissue injury case with limited “objective” - i.e., visual - evidence of physical harm. Back then, a small number of defense counsel and adjusters even treated those claims with outward disdain. I put this down to what I called “claim fatigue” - a dulling of sensitivities caused by a relentless cycle of claims of which some were less than compelling. Adjusters, I felt, were particularly vulnerable to this, largely because they handle far more claims than anyone else and they are under constant pressure to weed out claims that may lack merit. And yes, there were a handful of adjusters I dealt with who could be particularly cantankerous.
I thought I was dealing with just such an individual in this particular mediation. This was years before a referendum where I live legalized same-sex marriage, and in this particular case I represented a woman who was in a longstanding relationship with a female lover. A third-party claim meant there were two defendants, two insurers, and two adjusters in the case. One of the defense counsel, who was outwardly straight-laced but also very professional and polite, cautioned me that the adjuster he was working with could be “difficult.” I took this as a warning there was little chance for any settlement. This was one of those soft tissue injury cases where I expected a lot of pushback on damages.
The mandatory mediation was in person, taking place long before widespread videoconferencing. Everyone met face-to-face. The "difficult" adjuster was a stern looking man with short gray hair - possibly even a buzz cut, if I remember correctly - and a gray suit. He gruffly introduced himself, and his handshake was notably firm. We then sat down opposite each other, and the mediator began his introduction. After the attorneys presented their respective claims and defenses, everyone retreated to their separate rooms. I didn’t expect to see this adjuster for at least a couple of hours.
As it happened, however, I met him in a hallway a short time later when we were both taking a break. He approached me, visibly angry. I mentally braced myself for some kind of tongue-lashing. That was, in a way, what I got - but I was not the object of his displeasure. He had been in a caucus with the mediator, who apparently opined my client probably would not fare well before a jury because of her sexual orientation. Knowing the mediator, I doubted that remark reflected any personal bias, but this adjuster was clearly put out by it. I recall him rhetorically asking me what the mediator would think had this man’s own son been gay. He said nothing to me about my client, but his message was clear: she mattered as much as anyone else, regardless of whom she loved. He then turned and went back to his room, leaving me standing there speechless.
The mediation continued as they typically do, with a lot of argument and back-and-forth. As with many negotiations, for much of the time I doubted the parties would reach any kind of accord. Eventually, however, they did. The settlement was reasonable, but nothing spectacular. My client rightfully valued herself, and like many people she found the bartering over the “value” of her injury hard to take. Nonetheless, I had told her what this adjuster had said to me in that hallway, and his words helped her understand his negotiations were far from personal. Indeed, his unexpected expression of humanity went a long way to helping her reach closure - and perhaps even some sense of peace.
For me, it was just one more example of how people can be advocates without having to be adversaries. To this day, I appreciate what this gentleman said.
