Always another question

More memories

Thanks to this newsletter I have a connection with all kinds of excellent people who send me all kinds of excellent messages that I appreciate very much indeed.

And the more moved I am by them, the longer it can take me to respond. You want to do it justice, you want to give it proper time. You can end up failing to write altogether. So sorry.

This is when I get around to responding to at least one of them.

Hello Sandy! You wrote, responding to this:

Hi David I got a thrill to read that John Thomas was one of your favourite law lecturers. He was my uncle. I would love to know what fascinated and impressed you about him (apart from his Socratic approach to teaching, which I can well imagine).

I would love to tell you!

I arrived at law school having never heard of the Socratic method, or John Thomas, or statutory interpretation. But you only had to be there for five minutes to hear all about it, much in the same way that kids hear stories at night from other older kids with a torch shining below their chins.

The Socratic what now? Let us turn for a moment to The Paper Chase.

To be fair, it's not the gentlest most relaxed encounter you'll have in teaching. The lecturer scans the class plan of 200 students, looks up in your direction, fixes you with their gaze, says Mr. Slack... and then poses a question for which you may or may not have an answer. Depending on how things go, you may feel it to be your worst nightmare.

On the other hand, if you're the kind of person with experience of talking your way into or out of things, at ease with the concept of fake it til you make it, it's not quite so scary.

Also, it could be really really entertaining. John Thomas did not just bring rigour and insight, he brought zingers. It could be sport. He could be really bloody funny.

In his classes I acquired a clear understanding of the concept of a meeting of the minds; of the sway of railway companies in the 19th century; and this, one of his many random observations: for a joke to work, it has to offend 10 per cent of the audience.

There would be riffs about the ride in from Khandallah on the unit, about the Dominion crossword. And I especially enjoyed his amused self-deprecation: Yeah yeah, I know. You all come in here thinking like lawyers and you leave with a skull full of mush.

Contracts classes were 8am in the cold Easterfield building. I enjoyed every walk up the hill towards them, the anticipation of it: the inventive thinking, the entertainment, the bracing challenge.

Also, he was the first person to tell me: You're a grownup now. I'd failed to sign up in time for something, can't remember what now, I was getting no allowance, and it had the requisite effect.

I was so shocked and sad, just a few years on, to hear he was gone.

So I made these notes for Sandy. And then I thought, I wasn't the only one who felt this way, I'll ask my old friends if they'd like to add something.

I was a bit taken aback when Nigel said:

Favourite is not quite the word I would use - thankfully I have not had the nightmare of hearing him call your name when you had done zero prep for many years now!!

And Deb told me,

I was terrified! Honestly. ….But he made me read the cases, and he made me prepare and he created a benchmark for me of things I didn't need to be scared of… I am sure that if I had experienced him with a few more years under my belt I would have managed to enjoy his teaching….

On the other hand, Dick said:

He was certainly the stand-out lecturer for me. No one else came close

And then Jack sent me this.

Hi Dave (and Sandy)

Thanks Dave for your email.

John Thomas was one of my favourite law lecturers too, and I imagine he would have been great fun as an uncle.

I had John as my Contracts lecturer for two years (1979 and 1980) and, in the second of those years, I was also lucky enough also to have him as my Contracts tutorial leader.

In 1979, I was an unworldly 19-year-old and in my second year at Vic. Contracts was a legendarily tough course, one the four compulsory second year papers that we had to pass before we could progress. John was almost intimidatingly intelligent, young (compared to many of the law lecturers) and a cool dude, super quick-minded and witty. He used the Socratic process very effectively as a teaching tool and he wasn't afraid to call you out if it was clear you hadn't prepared, but I do not remember him as being unkind or mean in any of that. Rather, I recall his approach as usually being tinged with humour and an underlying kind heart.

I was on the receiving end of John's kindness during my second year doing the course with him (in 1980). I'd failed on the first try with a 48 or something and managed to fail the first Terms test in the second year, again with a 48 or so. At the end of my Terms test paper, beside where he had written my mark, John had written a note to me. It wasn't a note about what I'd got wrong in the test but, instead, a note about me. The actual words I don't recall, but the message from John was that he had seen many students who fail the course once and come back the next year and think they know it all and so fail again because they don't apply themselves, and he finished by encouraging me not to fall into that trap.

No other lecturer or tutor had ever done anything like that for me and no other lecturer or tutor did it afterwards. I had thought that we were left to sink or swim on our own and that our teachers were at best disinterested in us as individuals. But not John - he noticed me, actually took an interest in me, actually cared, and that meant a lot to me.

On reflection, I don't think the note meant I was an exception or special. Rather, I think that was part of John's approach to his work - he cared about his students, and that's what I mean about his being kind.

The tutorials that year were great fun, as well as furthering whatever topic was in play for the week. They were held weekly each Friday afternoon, with only about 6 or 8 people attending as I recall. There were a few other returnees in the tutorial and that, coupled with the end-of -the-week vibe, made them great fun. Often, we would quickly dispense with the week's topic and then go on to talk about other things like the latest political dramas down the hill at Parliament.

I passed the course that year. I got a solid 60-something, a good mark for me, spurred on by John's note.

He was a good guy.

The picture you have of people, the one you may have held for decades, can be so mistaken. My impression of Deb at that time was someone spirited, giving as good as she got, relishing the duel. I saw Jack as this confident chill surfer dude, untroubled by any worry in the world.

Call myself a writer? I was only seeing half the picture.

Deb was always insistent but never with rancour, she was looking for, hoping for a more inclusive world than the one we had then, and she’s never stopped looking for it.

Jack always seemed to be possessed of a zen-like calm. In truth, only the Buddha has that.

A question follows a question follows a question. You come to understand, in the end, there will always be another one.