Federal Court Rules on Whether Documents Containing Agreed-Upon Keywords are Responsive Per Se

Today, Doug Austin‘s splendid eDiscoveryToday blog featured O’Donnell/Salvatori Inc. v. Microsoft Corp., No. C20-882-MLP (W.D. Wash. Oct. 1, 2021), where a U.S. Magistrate sitting in Seattle opined on an issue I wrote about nine years ago (when there wasn’t a case to be found on the question): “Must a party produce all ESI retrieved from the use of negotiated search terms?” Magistrate Peterson wisely held that “a party’s agreement to run search terms does not waive its right to review the resulting documents for relevance so long as the review can be done in a reasonably timely manner.”

Because the issue remains contentious, I thought reprinting my long ago post and the associated practice tip (that would have kept the parties from tripping up) might be timely. Here it is (from March 22, 2013):

More than once, I’ve faced disputes stemming from diametrically different expectations concerning the use of keywords as a means to identify responsive ESI.  I don’t recall seeing a case on this; but, it wouldn’t surprise me if there was one.  If not, there soon will be because the issue is more common than one might imagine.

When requesting parties hammer out agreements on search terms to be run against the producing party’s ESI, sometimes the requesting party’s expectation is that any item responsive to the agreed-upon keywords (that is, any item that’s “hit”) must be produced unless withheld as privileged.  Put another way, the requesting party believes that, by agreeing to the use of a set of keywords as a proxy for attorney review of the entire potentially-responsive collection, and thereby relieving the producing party of the broader obligation to look at everything that may be responsive, those keywords define responsiveness per se, requiring production if not privileged.

Now I appreciate that some are reading that and getting hot under the collar.  You’re saying things like:

  • “We always have the right to review items hit for responsiveness!”
  • “It’s the Request for Production not the keyword hits that define the scope of e-discovery!”
  • “Nothing in the Rules or the law obliges a party to produce non-responsive items!”
    [Expletives omitted]

Perhaps; but, there’s sufficient ambiguity surrounding the issue to prompt prudent counsel to address the point explicitly when negotiating keyword search protocols, and especially when drafting agreed orders memorializing search protocols.

To appreciate why expectations should be plainly stated, one need only look at the differing incentives that may prompt disparate expectations.

What is a producing party’s incentive to limit the scope of search to only a handful of queries and keywords?  Federal law requires a producing party to search all reasonably accessible sources of information that may hold responsive information and to identify those potentially responsive sources that won’t be searched.  That’s a pretty broad mandate; so, it’s no wonder producing parties seek to narrow the scope by securing agreements to use keyword queries.  Producing parties have tons of incentive to limit the scope of review to only items with keyword hits.  It eases their burden, trims their cost and affords requesting parties cover from later complaints about scope and methodology.

What is the requesting party’s incentive to limit an opponent’s scope of search to only those items with keyword hits?  Requesting parties might respond that their incentive is to insure that they get to see the items with hits so long as they are not privileged.  By swapping keyword culling for human review, requesting parties need not rely upon an untrusted opponent’s self-interested assessment of the material.  Instead, if it’s hit by the agreed-upon keywords, the item will be produced unless it’s claimed to be privileged; in which case the requesting party gets to see its privilege log entry.  That’s often the contemplated quid pro quo.

Both arguments have considerable merit; and, yes, you can be compelled to produce non-responsive items, if the agreement entered into between the parties is construed to create that obligation.  Some might argue that the agreement to use queries is an agreement to treat those queries as requests for production.  You don’t have to agree, dear reader; but, you’d be wise to plan for opponents (and judges) who think this way.

These are issues we need to pay attention to as we move closer to broader adoption of technology-assisted review.  We may be gravitating to a place where counsel’s countermanding a machine’s “objective” characterization of a document as responsive will be viewed with suspicion.  Responding parties see electronic culling as just an extension of counsel’s judgment; but, requesting parties often see electronic culling as an objective arbiter of responsiveness.  Face it: requesting parties believe that opponents hide documents.  TAR and keyword search may be embraced by requesting parties as a means to get hold of helpful documents that would not otherwise see the light of day.

Practice Tip:  If you enter into an agreement with the other side to use keywords and queries for search, be clear about expectations with respect to the disposition of items hit by queries.  Assuming the items aren’t privileged, are they deemed responsive because they met the criteria used for search or is the producing party permitted or obliged to further cull for responsiveness based on the operative Requests for Production?  You may think this is clear to the other side; but, don’t count on it.  Likewise, don’t assume the Court shares your interpretation of the protocol.  Just settling upon an agreed-upon list of queries may not be sufficient to insure a meeting of the minds.

Did You Miss Tom’s Checklist Manifesto?

I don’t often feature the work of others here; but sometimes I come across something that’s just so good, I can’t wait to sing its praises even as I wish it were something I’d written. One such gem is my great friend Tom O’Connor’s E-Discovery Checklist Manifesto. To give credit where due, Jeremy Greer and ACEDS honcho Michael Quartararo are authors as well, and their splendid work was underwritten by software seller, Digital WarRoom. As we all do, the Manifesto owes an acknowledged debt to the Electronic Discovery Reference Model (EDRM) where much of the same information can be found, but the Checklist Manifesto pulls the essentials together more simply and accessibly without leaving key points behind.

Because it emerged in the abyss of pandemic 2020, there’s a good chance you never heard mention of the E-Discovery Checklist Manifesto, so I hope you’ll like getting this heads up. It’s a quick read and worthy of being kept close at hand by newbies and old hands alike.

Then his head exploded!

In the introduction to my Electronic Evidence Workbook, I note that my goal is to change the way readers think about electronically stored information and digital evidence. I want all who take my courses to see that modern electronic information is just a bunch of numbers and not be daunted by those numbers.

I find numbers reassuring and familiar, so I occasionally forget that some are allergic to numbers and loathe to wrap their heads around them.

Lately, one of my bright students identified himself as a “really bad with numbers person.” My lecture was on encoding as prologue to binary storage, and when I shifted too hastily from notating numbers in alternate bases (e.g., Base 2, 10, 16 and 64) and started in on encoding textual information as numbers (ASCII, Unicode), my student’s head exploded.

Boom!

At least that’s what he told me later. I didn’t hear anything when it happened, so I kept nattering on happily until class ended.

As we chatted, I realized that my student expected that encoding and decoding electronically stored information (ESI) would be a one-step process.  He was having trouble distinguishing the many ways that numbers (numeric values) can be notated from the many ways that numbers represent (“encode”) text and symbols like emoji.  Even as I write that sentence I suspect he’s not alone.

Of course, everyone’s first hurdle in understanding encoding is figuring out why to care about it at all.  Students care because they’re graded on their mastery of the material, but why should anyone else care; why should lawyers and litigation professionals like you care?  The best answer I can offer is that you’ll gain insight.  It will change the way you think about ESI in the same way that algebra changes the way you think about problem solving.  If you understand the fundamental nature of electronic evidence, you will be better equipped to preserve, prove and challenge its integrity as accurate and reliable information.

Electronic evidence is just data, and data are just numbers; so, understanding the numbers helps us better understand electronic evidence.

Understanding encoding requires we hearken back to those hazy days when we learned to tally and count by numbers.  Long ago, we understood quantities (numeric values) without knowing the numerals we would later use to symbolize quantities.  When we were three or four, “five” wasn’t yet Arabic 5, Roman V or even a symbolic tally like ||||

More likely, five was this:

If you’re from the Americas, Europe or Down Under, I’ll wager you were taught to count using the decimal system, a positional notation system with a base of 10.  Base 10 is so deeply ingrained in our psyches that it’s hard to conceive of numeric values being written any other way.  Decimal just feels like one, “true” way to count, but it’s not.  Writing numbers using an alternate base or “radix” is just as genuine, and it’s advantageous when information is stored or transmitted digitally.

Think about it.  Human beings count by tens because we evolved with ten digits on our hands.  Were that not so, old jokes like this one would make no sense: “Did you hear about the Aggie who was arrested for indecent exposure?  He had to count to eleven.

Had our species evolved with eight fingers or twelve, we would have come to rely upon an octal or duodecimal counting system, and we would regard those systems as the “true” positional notation system for numeric values.  Ten only feels natural because we built everything around ten.

Computers don’t have fingers; instead, computers count using a slew of electronic switches that can be “on” or “off.”  Having just two states (on/off) makes it natural to count using Base 2, a binary counting system.  By convention, computer scientists notate the status of the switches using the numerals one and zero.  So, we tend to say that computers store information as ones and zeroes.  Yet, they don’t.

Computer storage devices like IBM cards, hard drives, tape, thumb drives and optical media store information as physical phenomena that can be reliably distinguished in either of two distinct states, e.g., punched holes, changes in magnetic polar orientation, minute electric potentials or deflection of laser beams.   We symbolize these two states as one or zero, but you could represent the status of binary data by, say, turning a light on or off.  Early computing systems did just that, hence all those flashing lights.

You can express any numeric value in any base without changing its value, just as it doesn’t change the numeric value of “five” to express it as Arabic “5” or Roman “V” or just by holding up five fingers. 

In positional notation systems, the order of numerals determines their contribution to the value of the number; that is, their contribution is the value of the digit multiplied by a factor determined by the position of the digit and the base.

The base/radix describes the number of unique digits, starting from zero, that a positional numeral system uses to represent numbers.  So, there are just two digits in base 2 (binary), ten in base 10 (decimal) and sixteen in base 16 (hexadecimal).  E-mail attachments are encoded using a whopping 64 digits in base 64.

We speak the decimal number 31,415 as “thirty-one thousand, four hundred and fifteen,” but were we faithfully adhering to its base 10 structure, we might say, “three ten thousands, one thousand, four hundreds, one ten and five ones.  The “base” ten means that there are ten characters used in the notation (0-9) and the value of each position is ten times the value of the position to its right.

The same decimal number 31,415 can be written as a binary number this way: 111101010110111

In base 2, two characters are used in the notation (0 and 1) and each position is twice the value of the position to its right.  If you multiply each digit times its position value and add the products, you’ll get a total equal in value to the decimal number 31,415.

A value written as five characters in base 10 requires 15 characters in base 2.  That seems inefficient until you recall that computers count using on-off switches and thrive on binary numbers.

The decimal value 31,415 can be written as a base 16 or hexadecimal number this way: 7AB7

In base 16, sixteen characters are used in the notation (0-9 and A-F) and each position is sixteen times the value of the position to its right.  If you multiply each digit times its position value and add the products, you’ll get a total equal in value to the decimal number 31,415.  But how do you multiply letters like A, B, C, D, E and F?  You do it by knowing the letters are used to denote values greater than 9, so A=10, B=11, C=12, D=13, E=14 and F=15.  Zero through nine plus the six values represented as letters comprise the sixteen characters needed to express numeric values in hexadecimal.

Once more, If you multiply each digit/character times its position value and add the products, you’ll get a total equal in value to the decimal number 31,415:

Computers work with binary data in eight-character sequences called bytes.  A binary sequence of eight ones and zeros (“bits”) can be arranged in 256 unique ways.   Long sequences of ones and zeroes are hard for humans to follow, so happily, two hexadecimal characters can also be arranged in 256 unique ways, meaning that just two base-16 characters can replace the eight characters of a binary byte (i.e., a binary value of 11111111 can be written in hex as FF).  Using hexadecimal characters allows programmers to write data in just 25% of the space required to write the same data in binary, and it’s easier for humans to follow.

Let’s take a quick look at why this is so.  A single binary byte can range from 0 to 255 (being 00000000 to 11111111).  Computers count from zero, so that range spans 256 unique values. The following table demonstrates why the largest value of an eight character binary byte (11111111) equals the largest value of just two hexadecimal characters (FF):

Hexadecimal values are everywhere in computing.  Litigation professionals encounter hexadecimal values as MD5 hash values and may run into them as IP addresses, Globally Unique Identifiers (GUIDs) and even color references.

Encoding Text

So far, I’ve described ways to encode the same numeric value in different bases.  Now, let’s shift gears to describe how computers use those numeric values to signify intelligible alphanumeric information like the letters of an alphabet, punctuation marks and emoji.  Again, data are just numbers, and those numbers signify something in the context of the application using that data, just as gesturing with two fingers may signify the number two, a peace sign, the V for Victory or a request that a blackjack dealer split a pair.  What numbers mean depends upon the encoding scheme applied to the values in the application; that is, the encoding scheme supplies the essential context needed to make the data intelligible.  If the number is used to describe an RGB color, then the hex value 7F00FF means violet.  Why?  Because each of the three values that make up the number (7F 00 FF) denote how much of the colors red, green and blue to mix to create the desired RGB color. In other contexts,  the same hex value could mean the decimal number 8,323,327, the binary string 11111110000000011111111 or the characters 缀ÿ.

ASCII

When the context is text, there are a host of standard ways, called Character Encodings or Code Pages, in which the numbers denote letters, punctuation and symbols.  Now nearly sixty years old, the American Standard Code for Information Interchange (ASCII, “ask-key”) is the basis for most modern character encoding schemes (though both Morse code and Baudot code are older).  Born in an era of teletypes and 7-bit bytes, ASCII’s original 128 codes included 33 non-printable codes for controlling machines (e.g., carriage return, ring bell) and 95 printable characters.  The ASCII character set follows:

Windows-1252

Later, when the byte standardized from seven to eight bits (recall a bit is a one or zero), 128 additional characters could be added to the character set, prompting the development of extended character encodings. Arguably the most used single-byte character set in the world is the Windows-1252 code page, the characters of which are set out in the following table (red dots signify unassigned values). 

Note that the first 128 control codes and characters (from NUL to DEL) match the ASCII encodings and the 128 characters that follow are the extended set.  Each character and control code has a corresponding fixed byte value, i.e., an upper-case B is hex 40 and the section sign, §, is hex A7.  To see the entire code page character set and the corresponding hexadecimal encodings on Wikipedia, click here.  Again, ASCII and the Windows-1252 code page are single byte encodings so they are limited to a maximum of 256 characters.

Unicode

The Windows-1252 code page works reasonably well so long as you’re writing in English and most European languages; but sporting only 256 characters, it won’t suffice if you’re writing in, say, Greek, Cyrillic, Arabic or Hebrew, and it’s wholly unsuited to Asian languages like Chinese, Japanese and Korean. 

Though programmers developed various ad hoc approaches to foreign language encodings, an increasingly interconnected world needed universal, systematic encoding mechanisms.  These methods would use more than one byte to represent each character, and the most widely adopted such system is Unicode.  In its latest incarnation (version 14.0, effective 9/14/21), Unicode standardizes the encoding of 159 written character sets called “scripts” comprising 144,697 characters, plus multiple symbol sets and emoji characters.

The Unicode Consortium crafted Unicode to co-exist with the longstanding ASCII and ANSI character sets by emulating the ASCII character set in corresponding byte values within the more extensible Unicode counterpart, UTF-8.  UTF-8 can represent all 128 ASCII characters using a single byte and all other Unicode characters using two, three or four bytes.  Because of its backward compatibility and multilingual adaptability, UTF-8 has become the most popular text encoding standard, especially on the Internet and within e-mail systems. 

Exploding Heads and Encoding Challenges

As tempting as it is to regard encoding as a binary backwater never touching lawyers’ lives, encoding issues routinely lie at the root of e-discovery disputes, even when the term “encoding” isn’t mentioned.  “Load file problems” are often encoding issues, as may be “search difficulties,” “processing exceptions” and “corrupted data.”  If an e-discovery processing tool reads Windows-1252 encoded text expecting UTF-8 encoded text or vice-versa, text and load files may be corrupted to the point that data will need to be re-processed and new production sets generated.  That’s costly, time-consuming and might be wholly avoidable, perhaps with just the smattering of knowledge of encoding gained here.

Thanks for Stopping By

Today marks the tenth anniversary of this blog. It was born of frustration when years of essays I’d contributed to an American Lawyer Media blog were sold to Lexis, and stashed behind a paywall without so much as a by your leave. “Never again!” I vowed. I knew I’d lose readers going it alone, but I would be master of my destiny.

I christened the site with a quote from David Copperfield: “Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show, adding, “I want the heroes of this site to be its readers: the lawyers, judges, support personnel and others with the wisdom to know they must master electronic evidence and the temerity to try. Blogging is an indulgence and a responsibility.  If I want you to visit, I’ve got to give you something worth your time.  Here, I’ll share things I’ve picked up about electronic discovery and computer forensics, striving to make those topics as interesting, exciting and engaging for you as they are for me.” 

So it began, and ten years on, I’ve written 228 posts, acquired 1,715 subscribers and been privileged to have 260,000 heroes stop by. I hope that I have shaped your thinking as you have shaped mine. Thank you.

Writing these pages has been a decade of joy. Ball in Your Court has been my place to float ideas, debate issues, fete friends, share discoveries, celebrate triumphs and mourn the passing of the dearly beloved. It would count for nothing at all without you, Dear Reader. I’m so grateful to know you’re there. Be well.

Why E-Discovery and Digital Evidence?

On the eve of each semester, I revise my E-Discovery Workbook to hasten my law students’ arrival at that glorious “aha” moment when the readings and exercises coalesce into something like understanding. In the decade I’ve been teaching E-Discovery and Digital Evidence, I’ve learned a good deal about what does and doesn’t work. I’ve also learned what I need to change in myself to teach them; not just the superstars who make teaching a joy, but the students who stumble and grumble and worry me to death. Some of what I’ve learned goes to the assumptions that I can and cannot safely make about my students’ understanding of law practice and the so-called “real world.” I fear I may do them a disservice if I dive into the fantastic world of forensic evidence without ensuring they have a context for what it is and why it matters. So, the material that follows is my latest effort on that score. I hope you find it worth your time and I’m grateful for your feedback and comments.

Introducing E-Discovery and Digital Evidence

The passing mention made of discovery during first year civil procedure classes cannot prepare law students to grasp the extent to which discovery devours litigators’ lives. For every hour spent in trial, attorneys and trial teams devote hundreds or thousands of hours to discovery and its attendant disputes.

Too, discovery is a trial lawyer’s most daunting ethical challenge. It demands lawyers seek and surrender information providing aid and comfort to the enemy—over the objections of clients, irrespective of the merits of the case, and no matter how much they distrust or detest the other side. Is there a corollary duty to act against interest in any other profession?

Discovery is hard because it runs counter to human nature, and electronic discovery is harder because it demands a specialized knowledge and experience few lawyers possess and far afield of conventional legal scholarship. E-discovery skills, as much as they’ve been key to lawyer competency for decades, are yet apt to be denigrated or delegated.

Civil discovery is a high-stakes game of “Simon Says.”  Counsel must phrase demands for information with sufficient precision to implicate what’s relevant, yet with adequate breadth to forestall evasion. It’s as confounding as it sounds, making it miraculous that discovery works as well as it does. The key factors making it work are counsel’s professional integrity and judges’ enforcement of the rules.

Counsel’s professional integrity isn’t mere altruism; the failure to protect and produce relevant evidence carries consequences ranging from damaged professional reputations to costly remedial actions to so-called “death penalty” sanctions, where a discovery cheater forfeits the right to pursue or defend a claim. Lawyers may face monetary sanctions and referral to disciplinary authorities.

The American system of civil discovery embodies the principle that just outcomes are more likely when parties to litigation have access to facts established by relevant evidence. Since relevant evidence often lies within the exclusive province of those not served by disclosure, justice necessitates a means to compel disclosure, subject to exceptions grounded on claims of privilege, privacy, and proportionality.

The U.S. Federal Rules of Civil Procedure articulate the scope of discovery as, “Parties may obtain discovery regarding any nonprivileged matter that is relevant to any party’s claim or defense and proportional to the needs of the case….”  Adding, “Information within this scope of discovery need not be admissible in evidence to be discoverable.”  Rule 401 of the Federal Rules of Evidence defines evidence as relevant if it has any tendency to make a fact more or less probable than it would be without the evidence and the fact is of consequence in determining the action (i.e., the fact is material).

Relevant.  Proportional. Nonprivileged. Commit these touchstones to memory.

The discovery of an opponent’s electronically stored information begins with a request for production under Rule 34 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure or a similar state rule of procedure. Rule 34 lets a party request any other party produce any designated documents or electronically stored information—including writings, drawings, graphs, charts, photographs, sound recordings, images, and other data or data compilations—in the responding party’s possession, custody, or control.  The responding party must respond to the request in writing within 30 days and may lodge specific objections and withhold production pursuant to those objections.

The simplicity of the rule hardly hints at its complexity in practice.  A multibillion-dollar industry of litigation service providers and consultants exists to support discovery, and a crazy quilt of court rulings lays bare the ignorance, obstinance, guile, and ingenuity of lawyers and clients grappling with the preservation and exchange of electronic evidence.

To appreciate what competent counsel must know about digital discovery, consider the everyday case where a customer slips and falls in a grocery store. A store employee witnesses the fall, helps the customer up and escorts her to the store manager, who prepares a written incident report. The customer claims the fall was caused by a pool of grease on the floor alongside a display of roasted chickens.  The customer returns home but feels enough pain to visit an emergency room the next day. After months of medication and therapy, doctors diagnose a spinal injury necessitating surgery. When the grocery store refuses to pay for medical care, the customer hires a lawyer to seek compensation.

From the standpoint of relevance in discovery, the case will stand on three legs: liability, causation and damages.

To establish liability, tort law requires the plaintiff demonstrate duty and a breach of that duty. The store owes customers a duty to furnish reasonably safe premises and to act reasonably to correct or warn of an unsafe condition like slippery chicken fat on the floor.  Yet, the store’s personnel must be aware of the condition to be obliged to correct or warn of the hazard or the defect must be present for a sufficient time that a reasonable store should have become aware of the hazard and protected its customers.

The store defends against liability by asserting that there was no grease on the floor and, alternatively, that any grease on the floor was spilt by another customer and, despite exercising reasonable care, the store lacked the opportunity to find and clean up the spill before the fall. The store also asserts the plaintiff failed to watch where she was walking, contributing to cause her injuries. Finally, the store contests damages and causation, arguing that the plaintiff exaggerates the extent of her injuries and something other than the fall—perhaps a pre-existing condition or an unrelated trauma—is the true cause of plaintiff’s complaints.

As plaintiff’s counsel ponders the potentially relevant evidence in the store’s control, he wonders:

  1. Who might have witnessed the fall or the conditions?
  2. Were witness statements obtained?
  3. How did the store clean up after the fall?
  4. Were photographs taken?
  5. Were video cameras monitoring the premises?
  6. Is there a history of other falls?
  7. Did the roasted chicken display leak?
  8. How frequently are the floors inspected and cleaned?

Defense counsel has her own questions:

  1. Did the plaintiff stage the fall to profit from a claim?
  2. Did the plaintiff suffer from a pre-existing condition?
  3. Has the plaintiff made other claims?
  4. Was the plaintiff impaired by drink, drugs or disability?
  5. Has the plaintiff behaved inconsistently with her claimed infirmities?

Both sides worry whether the other side acted diligently to preserve relevant evidence and if anyone has altered or destroyed probative material. In gauging proportionality, comparable cases have prompted damage awards ranging from one-half million to two million dollars.

The store is part of a national chain, so there are detailed policies and procedures setting out how to police and document the premises for hazards and deal with injuries on the property. There’s an extensive network of digital video cameras throughout the store, warehouse, and parking lot.  A database logs register sales, and all self-checkout scanners incorporate cameras. Employees clock in and out of their shifts digitally. Multiple suppliers and subcontractors come and go daily. Virtually everyone carries a cell phone or other device tracking geolocation and exertion.  A corporate database serves to manage claims, investigations, and dispositions. Even a simple fall on chicken fat casts a long shadow of electronic artifacts.

Video of the fall and the area where it occurred is crucial evidence. Store policy required a manager review and preserve video of the event before recordings overwrite every 14 days. The manager reviewed the store video and, from one of the deli-area feeds, kept footage beginning one minute before the fall until five minutes afterward, when a store employee led the plaintiff away, but before cleanup occurred. In the video, another kiosk obstructs the view of the floor. The manager also preserved video of the plaintiff arriving and leaving the premises. In one, plaintiff is looking at her phone. The surveillance system overwrote other video recordings two weeks later.

The manager photographed the area showing the condition of the floor, but arrived after employees mopped and placed yellow caution cones. The store’s counsel claims staff mopped because the plaintiff dropped a chicken she’d selected, spilling grease when she fell, not because there was any grease already on the floor.

The parties engage in discovery seeking the customary complement of medical records and expenses, lost earnings documentation, store policies and procedures, similar prior incidents, and incident investigations.

Seeking to identify eyewitnesses or others who may have spilled grease buying roast chicken, plaintiff requests the store “produce for a period one hour before and after the fall, any photographic or transaction record (including credit- and loyalty-card identifying data) of any persons on the premises.”  Plaintiff makes the same request for “any persons who purchased roast chicken.”  Plaintiff also demands the names, addresses, and phone numbers of employees or contractors on the premises within one hour on either side of her fall.

In its discovery, the store asks that plaintiff “produce any texts, call records, application data or other evidence of phone usage for one hour before and after the alleged fall and the contents of any social networking posts for six months prior to the alleged injury to the present where any content, comment, or imagery in the post touches or concerns the Plaintiff’s state of mind, physical activity, or consumption of drugs or alcohol.”  The store also demands that plaintiff produce “data from any devices (including, but not limited to, phones, apps, fitness equipment, fitness monitors, and smart watches) that record or report information about the plaintiff’s sleep, vital signs, activity, location, movement, or exertion from six months prior to the alleged fall to the present date.”

Chances are both sides will balk at production of the electronically stored data, and it will eventually emerge that neither side considered the data sought when obliged to preserve potentially relevant evidence in anticipation of litigation. The parties will meet and confer, seeking to resolve the dispute; but when they don’t arrive at a compromise narrowing the scope of the requests, both sides will file Motions to Compel asking the Court to order their opponent to hand over the information sought.

The parties will object on various grounds, alleging that the information isn’t relevant, doesn’t exist, or is not reasonably accessible. Lawyers will point to undue burden and cost, oppression, excessive inroads into private matters, and even claims the data requested is privileged or a trade secret. Requests will be challenged as “disproportionate to the needs of the case.”

One side assures the judge it’s just a few clicks to gather the data sought.  With equal certainty, the other side counters that the task requires teams of expensive experts and months of programming and review.

Plaintiff’s counsel points out that every roast chicken sold the day of the fall bore a Universal Product Code (UPC) scanned at a register to establish its price and update the store’s inventory control system.  Thus, every roast chicken sale was logged and the name of every buyer who used a credit, debit, loyalty, or EBT/SNAP assistance card was likewise recorded. “It’s right there on the register receipts,” counsel argues, “Just print them out.”  “It’s the same for every employee,” he adds, “they scan people in and out like roast chickens.”

Plaintiff is less sanguine about the defense’s demand for phone, social networking, and fitness monitor evidence, uncertain how to collect, review, and produce whatever’s not been lost to the passage of time. “It’s going to take forever to look at it all,” she protests, “and who knows if there’s anything relevant? It’s disproportional!”

The defendant concedes it tracks purchases and card usage, but not in the same system. The store claims it can’t pair the transactions and, if they produce the names, will those buyers prove to be eyewitnesses? Defense counsel cries, “Judge, it’s a fishing expedition!”

As both sides dodge and dither, the information sought in discovery vanishes as, e.g., the store purges old records or plaintiff upgrades her digital devices.  All but a minute of video leading up to the fall has been overwritten by the time the first discovery request is served.  When that scant minute proves too short to establish how long the grease was on the floor, the plaintiff is prejudiced and files a Motion for Sanctions seeking to punish the defendant for the failure to preserve crucial evidence.  When it’s learned the plaintiff closed her Facebook account after the fall and her posts are gone, the defendant files its own Motion for Sanctions.

The defendant will argue that it shouldn’t be punished because it didn’t intend to deprive the plaintiff of the video; “it just seemed like a minute was enough.” Defendant will claim harm occasioned by the loss of plaintiff’s Facebook posts, positing the lost posts would have shown the plaintiff to be physically active and happy, undermining plaintiff’s claims of disability and lost enjoyment of life.

This is just a run-of-the-mill slip and fall case, but the outcome depends upon the exchange of an assortment of relevant and probative sources of electronic evidence.

Now, consider the far-flung volume and variety of electronic evidence in a class action brought for 100,000 employees, for a million injured by a massive data breach or a bet-the-company patent fight between technology titans. We cannot throw up our hands and say, “It’s too much! It’s too hard! It’s too expensive!”

Instead, we must balance the need to afford access to information enabling resolution of disputes based on relevant evidence against denying that access because costs and burdens outweigh benefits. Competency is key because disparity breeds distrust. Most would agree that the better a lawyer’s grasp of information systems and electronic evidence, the greater the potential for consensus with a knowledgeable opponent acting in good faith.

But, when it comes to competency in e-discovery, there’s little agreement. Must lawyers comprehend the discovery tasks they delegate to others? Where is the line between delegating discovery to laypersons and the unauthorized practice of law? How does a lawyer counsel a client to preserve and produce what the lawyer does not understand and cannot articulate?

We can define literacy and measure reading proficiency; but there is no measure of literacy when it comes to electronic evidence and e-discovery. How can one become literate in the conventional sense without knowing an alphabet, possessing a vocabulary, and understanding the concepts of words and phrases? A gift for pattern recognition might let a savant fake it for a time; but genuine literacy entails mastering fundamentals, like awareness of speech sounds (phonology), spelling patterns (orthography), word meaning (semantics), grammar, (syntax), and patterns of word formation (morphology). One in eight adult Americans cannot read. Do we expect any of them are lawyers?

Electronic evidence and e-discovery literacy demands more than what’s required for computer literacy (the ability to use computers and related technology efficiently) or digital literacy (the ability to find, evaluate, and communicate information via digital platforms). Computer and digital literacy are just a start: necessary but insufficient.

Competence in e-discovery and digital evidence encompasses a working knowledge of matters touching evidence integrity and being equipped to support and challenge the authenticity and admissibility of electronic evidence. Competence requires that one understand, inter alia, what electronically stored information is, where it resides, the forms it takes, and the metadata it implicates. What makes it trustworthy? How is it forged and manipulated? What constitutes a chain of custody sufficient to counter attacks on your handling of evidence? How do you properly preserve data without altering it? How do you communicate technical obligations to technical personnel without understanding the language they speak and the environment in which they work? How do you seek, cull, search, sort, review, and produce electronically stored information? What does it cost? How long does it take?

We expect banking attorneys to understand banking and real estate attorneys to understand real estate. Shouldn’t we expect trial lawyers to understand e-evidence and e-discovery? If so, do we start by teaching them the alphabet or do we hope they can learn to fake it without fundamentals?

This course reflects my sense that, while one can surely become a fine physician without it, I want my doctor to have taken biochemistry…and passed. Likewise, I believe students of electronic evidence and e-discovery must not be strangers to data storage, collection, encoding, processing, metadata, search, forms of production, and the vocabulary of information technology and computer forensics.

If you believe that all a trial lawyer needs to know is the law, this is not the course for you. Here, we celebrate the “e” in e-discovery and e-evidence. You’ll get your hands dirty with data, use modern tools and learn to speak geek. We strive together toward competence and confidence, so that you may emerge, not as ill-equipped computer scientists, but poised to be truly tech-savvy litigators.

Is Pinpoint the Future of eDiscovery?

Like most, I mark time in milestones, and a milestone year for me is 1908.  That was the year my lawyer father, Herbert Ball, was born–113 years ago tomorrow. To be clear, dad probably wasn’t born a lawyer; yet everything about him supported the conclusion that he sprang from the womb clutching a Harvard Law degree.  “Aught eight” was also the year another lawyer, William Howard Taft, became President of the United States; and still another lawyer, Thomas Riley Marshall, became Governor of Indiana.  Marshall would go on to be Vice President of the United States under Woodrow Wilson; yet, if you know Thomas R. Marshall’s name at all, it is only as the man who reportedly said, “What this country needs is a really good five-cent cigar.”

Nope.  Sorry.  Uh-uh. What this country needs is a really low cost e-discovery platform.  Something simple that lets lawyers see and search electronic evidence without spending a bunch of money.  Or any money, really.

I’ve decried the absence of low-cost eDiscovery tools since Edison recorded sound.  A dozen years ago, I laid down the EDna Challenge begging the vendor community for something a lawyer could use to process and review small collections of ESI for less than $1,000.00.  They all laughed.

The vendors are laughing still…all the way to the bank.  Yet, a glimmer of hope crept over the transom today as I dragged and dropped a container file holding 50,000 e-mail messages into a free Google tool called Pinpoint.

Within minutes, Google converted the emails to PDFs and ran optical character recognition (OCR) against embedded imagery.  I quickly realized that Pinpoint hadn’t processed email attachments, so I grabbed the native attachments and pointed Pinpoint to them.  The attachments uploaded, images were OCR’ed and audio files were transcribed!  Even handwritten items were converted to searchable text!  What? WHAT!

I expected a Google product to be adept at search, but WOW!  Pinpoint’s AI proved a powerful adjunct to human exploration.  Pinpoint automatically searches for spelling variants and synonymous terms, though you can restrict searches to exact matches using quotation marks.  Searching John Podesta’s email for “Hillary Clinton” turned up documents that only contained the initials, “HRC.”  Whoa!  A search for “victory” hit on documents with the term “winning,” and Pinpoint found those hits within images deployed in a PowerPoint presentation.

Pinpoint OCRs and enables keyword search and entity filtering for these file types:

  • PDF
  • Emails (.EML) and email archives (.MBOX)
  • Images (.JPEG, .PNG, .GIF, .BMP, .TIFF)
  • Text (.TXT, .RTF)
  • Structured text (.CSV, .XML, .TSV)
  • Microsoft Word (.DOC, .DOCX)
  • Microsoft Excel (.XLS, .XLSX)
  • Microsoft PowerPoint (.PPT, .PPTX)
  • Web pages (.HTML)
  • Audio (.MP3, .MP4, .M4A, .WAV, .FLAC, .WMA, .AAC, .RA, .RAM, .AIF, .AIFF)

When you run keyword searches, Pinpoint highlights hits. Highlighting works for native PDFs and files Pinpoint converted to PDFs:

  • Emails (.EML) and email archives (.MBOX)
  • Images (.JPEG, .PNG, .GIF, .BMP, .TIFF)
  • Microsoft Word (.DOC, .DOCX)
  • Microsoft PowerPoint (.PPT, .PPTX)
  • Audio (.MP3, .MP4, .M4A, .WAV, .FLAC, .WMA, .AAC, .RA, .RAM, .AIF, .AIFF)

Pinpoint instantly displays any document it converts to PDF and users can search and filter the following file types, but to view the content of these native formats you must open them outside of Pinpoint:

  • Microsoft Excel (.XLS, .XLSX)
  • Structured text (.CSV, .XML, .TSV)
  • Web pages (.HTML)

Pinpoint supports collaboration by enabling Pinpoint users to share their collections.  Other users can see, search, filter and download documents but won’t be able to add to the collection.

Pinpoint is a glimpse of an affordable future for eDiscovery.  Truly, it’s eDiscovery for everyone, but not without limitations.  Tagging is clumsy, export is an item-by-item slog and users are currently limited to 100GB of storage and about 200 thousand files.  Mail containers must be converted to MBOX or EML formats to load.  Right now, it’s just not built for eDiscovery.  It’s designed for journalists, and there are key things it can’t do that lawyers need.

But consider what it can do: no cost processing and hosting of the filetypes common to eDiscovery.  Brilliant search.  Automatic transcription of sound files and automatic OCR of images, with solid privacy and security for uploaded content. For free.

The power and the promise are there.  The price is right.  There’s no public development roadmap for Pinpoint but it won’t take much for it to become a capable tool for DIY eDiscovery.  Next time you wonder, “Where’s the Google for eDiscovery?” the answer may be easy to Pinpoint.

Ten Tips for Better ESI Expert Reports

A lawyer I admire asked me to talk to her colleague about expert reports.  I haven’t had that conversation yet, but the request got me thinking about the elements of a competent expert report, especially reports in my areas of computer forensics and digital evidence.  I dashed off ten things I thought contribute to the quality of the best expert reports.  If these were rules, I’d have to concede I’ve learned their value by breaking a few of them.  I’ve left out basic writing tips like “use conversational language and simple declarative sentences.” There are lists of rules for good writing elsewhere and you should seek them out.  Instead, here’s my impromptu list of ten tips for crafting better expert reports on technical issues in electronic discovery and computer forensics:

  1. Answer the questions you were engaged to resolve.
  2. Don’t overreach your expertise.
  3. Define jargon, and share supporting data in useful, accessible ways.
  4. Distinguish factual findings from opinions.
  5. Include language addressing the applicable evidentiary standard.
  6. Eschew advocacy; let your expertise advocate for you.
  7. Challenge yourself and be fair.
  8. Proofread.  Edit.  Proofread again. Sleep on it. Edit again.
  9. Avoid assuming the fact finder’s role in terms of ultimate issues.
  10. Listen to your inner voice.

Most of these are self-explanatory but please permit me a few clarifying comments.

Answer the questions you were engaged to resolve.

My pet peeve with expert reports is that they don’t always address the questions important to the court and counsel.  I’ve seen reports spew hundreds of pages of tables and screenshots without conveying what any of it means to the issues in the case.  Sometimes you can’t answer the questions.  Fine.  Say so.  Other times you must break down or reframe the questions to conform to the evidence.  That’s okay, too, IF it’s not an abdication of the task you were brought in to accomplish.  But, the best, most useful and intelligible expert reports pose and answer specific questions.

Don’t overreach your expertise.

The standard to qualify as an expert witness is undemanding: do you possess specialized knowledge that would assist the trier of fact in understanding the evidence or resolving issues of fact? See, e.g., Federal Rule of Evidence 702.  With the bar so low, it can be tempting to overreach your expertise, particularly when pushed by a client to opine on something you aren’t fully qualified to address.  For example, I’m a certified computer forensic examiner and I studied accounting in college, but I’m not a forensic accountant.  I know a lot about digital forgery, but I’m not a trained questioned document examiner.  These are specialties.  I try to stay in my own lane and commend it to other experts.

Define jargon, and share supporting data in useful, accessible ways.

Can someone with an eighth-grade education and no technical expertise beyond that of the average computer user understand your report?  If not, you’re writing for the wrong audience.  We should write to express, not impress.  I love two-dollar words and the bon mot phrase, but they don’t serve me well when writing reports.  Never assume that a technical term will be universally understood.  If your grandparents wouldn’t know what it means, define it.

Computer forensic tools are prone to generate lengthy “reports” rife with incomprehensible data.  It’s tempting to tack them on as appendices to add heft and underscore how smart one must be to understand it all.  But it’s the expert’s responsibility to act as a guide to the data and ensure its import is clear.  I rarely testify—even by affidavit–without developing annotated demonstrative examples of the supporting data.  Don’t wait for the deposition or hearing to use demonstrative evidence; make points clear in the report.

Too, I’m fond of executive summaries; that is, an up-front, cut-to-the-chase paragraph relating the upshot of the report.

Distinguish factual findings from opinions.

The key distinction between expert and fact witnesses is that expert witnesses are permitted to express opinions that go beyond their personal observation.  A lay witness to a crash may testify to speeds based only upon what they saw with their own eyes.  An accident reconstructionist can express an opinion of how fast the cars were going based upon evidence that customarily informs expert opinions like skid marks and vehicle deformation.  Each type of testimony must satisfy different standards of proof in court; so, to make a clear and defensible record, it’s good practice to distinguish factual findings (“things you saw”) from opinions (“things you’ve concluded based upon what you saw AND your specialized knowledge, training and experience”).  This  naturally begets the next tip:

Include language addressing the applicable evidentiary standard.

Modern jurisprudence deploys safeguards like the Daubert standard to combat so-called “junk science.”  Technical expert opinions must be based upon a sound scientific methodology, viz., sufficient facts or data and the product of reliable principles and methods.  While a court acting as gatekeeper can infer the necessary underpinnings from an expert’s report and C.V., expressly stating that opinions are based upon proper and accepted standards makes for a better record.

Eschew advocacy; let your expertise advocate for you.

Mea culpa here.  Because I was a trial lawyer for three+ decades, I labor to restrain myself in my reporting to ensure that I’m not intruding into the lawyer’s realm of advocacy.  I don’t always succeed.  Even if you’re working for a side, be as scrupulously neutral as possible in your reporting.  Strive to act and sound like you don’t care who prevails even if you’re rooting for the home team.  If you do your job well, the facts will advocate the right outcome.

Challenge yourself and be fair.

My worst nightmare as an expert witness is that I will mistakenly opine that someone committed a bad act when they didn’t.  So, I’m always trying to punch holes in my own theories and asking myself, “how would I approach this if I were working for the other side?”  Nowhere is this more important than when working as a court-appointed neutral expert.  Even if you’d enjoying seeing a terrible person fry, be fair.  You stand in the shoes of the Court.

Proofread.  Edit.  Proofread again. Sleep on it. Edit again.

Who has that kind of time, right?  Still, try to find the time.  Few things undermine the credibility of an expert report like a bunch of spelling and grammatical errors.  Stress and fatigue make for poor first drafts.  It often takes a good night’s sleep (or at least a few hours away from the work) to catch the inartful phrase, typo or other careless error.

Avoid assuming the fact finder’s role in terms of ultimate issues.

Serving as a court Special Master a few years back, I opined that the evidence of a certain act was so overwhelming that the Court should only reach one result.  Accordingly, I ceased investigating the loss of certain data that I regarded as out-of-scope.  I was right…but I was also wrong.  The Court has a job to do and, by my eliding over an issue the Court was obliged to address, the Court had to rule without benefit of what a further inquiry into the missing evidence would have revealed. The outcome was the same, but by assuming the factfinder’s role on an ultimate issue, I made the Court’s job harder.  Don’t do that.

Listen to your inner voice.

In expressing expert opinions, too much certainty—a/k/a arrogance–is as perilous as too much doubt.  Perfect is not the standard, but you should be reasonably confident of  your opinion based on a careful and competent review of the evidence.  If something “feels” off, it may be your inner voice telling you to look again. 

Final Exam Review: How Would You Fare?

It’s nearly finals time for the students in my E-Discovery and Digital Evidence course at the University of Texas School of Law. I just completed the Final Exam Study Guide for the class and thought readers who wonder what a tech-centric law school e-discovery curriculum looks like might enjoy seeing what’s asked of the students in a demanding 3-credit law school course. Whether you’re ACEDS certified, head of your e-discovery practice group or just an e-discovery groupie like me, consider how you’d fare preparing for an exam with this scope and depth. I’m proud of my bright students. You’d be really lucky to hire one of my stars.

E-Discovery – Spring 2021 Final Exam Study Guide

The final exam will cover all readings, lectures, exercises and discussions on the syllabus.
(Syllabus ver. 21.0224 in conjunction with Workbook ver. 21.0214 and Announcements).

  1. We spent a month on meeting the preservation duty and proportionality.  You undertook a two-part legal hold drafting exercise.  Be prepared to bring skills acquired from that effort to bear on a hypothetical scenario.  Be prepared to demonstrate your understanding of the requisites of fashioning a defensible legal hold and sensibly targeting a preservation demand to an opponent.  As well, your data mapping skills should prove helpful in addressing the varied sources of potentially relevant ESI that exist, starting at the enterprise level with The Big Six (e-mail, network shares, mobile devices, local storage, social networking and databases).  Of course, we must also consider Cloud repositories and scanned paper documents as potential sources.
  2. An essential capability of an e-discovery lawyer is to assess a case for potentially relevant ESI, fashion and implement a plan to identify accessible and inaccessible sources, determine their fragility and persistence, scope and deploy a litigation hold and take other appropriate first steps to counsel clients and be prepared to propound and respond to e-discovery, especially those steps needed to make effective use of the FRCP Rule 26(f) meet-and-confer process.  Often, you must act without having all the facts you’d like and rely upon your general understanding of ESI and information systems to put forward a plan to acquire the facts and do so with sensitivity to the cost and disruption your actions may engender.  Everything we’ve studied was geared to instilling those capabilities in you.
  3. CASES: You are responsible for all cases covered during the semester.  When you read each case, you should ask yourself, “What proposition might I cite this case to support in the context of e-discovery?”  That’s likely to be the way I will have you distinguish the cases and use them in the exam.  I refer to cases by their style (plaintiff versus defendant), so you should be prepared to employ a mnemonic to remember their most salient principles of each, e.g., Columbia Pictures is the ephemeral data/RAM case; Rambus is the Shred Day case; In re NTL is the right of control case; In re: Weekley Homes is the Texas case about accessing the other side’s hard drives, Wms v. Sprint is the spreadsheet metadata case (you get the idea).  I won’t test your memory of jurists, but it’s helpful-not-crucial to recall the authors of the decisions (especially when they spoke to our class like Judges Peck and Grimm). 

Case Review Hints:

  • Green v. Blitz: (Judge Ward, Texas) This case speaks to the need for competence in those responsible for preservation and collection and what constitutes a defensible eDiscovery strategy. What went wrong here? What should have been done differently?
  • In re: Weekly Homes: (Texas Supreme Court) This is one of the three most important Texas cases on ESI. You should understand the elements of proof which the Court imposes for access to an opponent’s storage devices and know terms of TRCP Rule 196.4, especially the key areas where the state and Federal ESI rules diverge.
  • Zubulake: (Judge Scheindlin, New York) The Zubulake series of decisions are seminal to the study of e-discovery in the U.S.  Zubulake remains the most cited of all EDD cases, so is still a potent weapon even after the Rules amendments codified much of its lessons. Know what the case is about, how the plaintiff persuaded the court that documents were missing and what the defendant did or didn’t do in failing to meet its discovery obligations. Know what an adverse inference instruction is and how it was applied in Zubulake versus what must be established under FRCP Rule 37€ after 2015. Know what Judge Scheindlin found to be a litigant’s and counsel’s duties with respect to preservation. Seven-point analytical frameworks (as for cost-shifting) make good test fodder.
  • Williams v. Sprint: (Judge Waxse, Kansas). Williams is a seminal decision respecting metadata. In Williams v. Sprint, the matter concerned purging of metadata and the locking of cells in spreadsheets in the context of an age discrimination action after a reduction-in-force. Judge Waxse applied Sedona Principle 12 in its earliest (and now twice revised) form. What should Sprint have done?  Did the Court sanction any party? Why or why not?
  • Rodman v. Safeway: (Judge Tigar, ND California) This case, like Zubulake IV, looks at the duties and responsibilities of counsel when monitoring a client’s search for and production of potentially responsive ESI? What is Rule 26(g), and what does it require? What constitutes a reasonable search? To what extent and under what circumstances may counsel rely upon a client’s actions and representations in preserving or collecting responsive ESI?
  • Columbia Pictures v. Bunnell: (Judge Chooljian, California) What prompted the Court to require the preservation of such fleeting, ephemeral information? Why were the defendants deemed to have control of the ephemeral data? Unique to its facts?
  • In re NTL, Inc. Securities Litigation: (Judge Peck, New York) Be prepared to discuss what constitutes control for purposes of imposing a duty to preserve and produce ESI in discovery and how it played out in this case. I want you to appreciate that, while a party may not be obliged to succeed in compelling the preservation or production of relevant information beyond its care, custody or control, a party is obliged to exercise all such control as the party actually possesses, whether as a matter of right or by course of dealing. What’s does The Sedona Conference think about that?
  • William A. Gross Constr. Assocs., Inc. v. Am. Mfrs. Mut. Ins. Co.: (Judge Peck, New York) What was the “wake up call,” who were expected to awaken and on what topics?
  • Adams v. Dell: (Judge Nuffer, Utah) What data was claimed to have been lost? What was supposed to have triggered the duty to preserve? What did the Court say about a responding party’s duty, particularly in designing its information systems? Outlier?
  • RAMBUS: (Judge Whyte, California) I expect you to know what happened and to appreciate that the mere reasonable anticipation of litigation–especially by the party who brings the action–triggers the common law duty to preserve. Be prepared to address the sorts of situations that might or might not trigger a duty to initiate a legal hold.
  • United States v. O’Keefe (Judge Facciola, DC): I like this case for its artful language (Where do angels fear to tread?) and consideration of the limits and challenges of keyword search.  The last being a topic that bears scrutiny wherever it has been addressed in the material.  That is, does keyword search work as well as lawyers think, and how can we improve upon it and compensate for its shortcomings? 
  • Victor Stanley v. Creative Pipe I & II (Judge Grimm, Maryland):  Read VS I with an eye toward understanding the circumstances when inadvertent production triggers waiver (pre-FRE 502).  What are the three standards applied to claims of waiver?  What needs to be in the record to secure relief?

    Don’t get caught up in the prolonged factual minutiae of VS II.  Read VS II to appreciate the varying standards that once existed across the Circuits for imposition of spoliation sanctions and that pre-date the latest FRCP Rules amendments, i.e., Rule 37(e).
  • Anderson Living Trust v. WPX Energy Production, LLC (Judge Browning, New Mexico): This case looks at the application and intricacies of FRCP Rule 34 when it comes to ESI versus documents.  My views about the case were set out in the article you read called “Breaking Badly.”
  • In re: State Farm Lloyds (Texas Supreme Court):  Proportionality is the buzzword here; but does the Court elevate proportionality to the point of being a costly hurdle serving to complicate a simple issue?  What does this case portend for Texas litigants in terms of new hoops to jump over issues as straightforward as forms of production?  What role did the Court’s confusion about forms (and a scanty record) play in the outcome?
  • Monique Da Silva Moore, et al. v. Publicis Groupe & MSL Group and Rio Tinto Plc v. Vale S.A., (Judge Peck, New York): DaSilva Moore is the first federal decision to approve the use of the form of Technology Assisted Review (TAR) called Predictive Coding as an alternative to linear, manual review of potentially responsive ESI.  Rio Tinto is Judge Peck’s follow up, re-affirming the viability of the technology without establishing an “approved” methodology.
  • Brookshire Bros. v. Aldridge (Texas Supreme Court): This case sets out the Texas law respecting spoliation of ESI…or does it?  Is the outcome and “analysis” here consistent with the other preservation and sanctions cases we’ve covered?
  • VanZant v. Pyle (Judge Sweet, New York): Issues of control and spoliation drive this decision.  Does the Court correctly apply Rule 37(e)?
  • CAT3 v. Black Lineage (Judge Francis, New York):This trademark infringement dispute concerned an apparently altered email.  Judge Francis found the alteration sufficient to support sanctions under Rule 37(e).  How did he get there?  Judge Francis also addressed the continuing viability of discretionary sanctions despite 37(e).  What did he say about that?
  • EPAC v. Thos. Nelson, Inc.: Read this report closely to appreciate how the amended Rules, case law and good practice serve to guide the court in fashioning remedial measures and punitive sanctions.  Consider the matter from the standpoint of the preservation obligation (triggers and measures) and from the standpoint of proportionate remedial measures and sanctions.  What did the Special Master do wrong here?
  • Mancia v. Mayflower (Judge Grimm, Maryland): Don’t overlook this little gem in terms of its emphasis on counsel’s duties under FRCP Rule 26(g).  What are those duties?  What do they signify for e-discovery? What is the role of cooperation in an adversarial system?
  • Race Tires America, Inc. v. Hoosier Racing Tire Corp. (Judge Vanaskie, Pennsylvania): This opinion cogently defines the language and limits of 28 U.S.C. §1920 as it relates to the assessment of e-discovery expenses as “taxable costs.”  What common e-discovery expenses might you seek to characterize as costs recoverable under §1920, and how would you make your case?
  • Zoch v. Daimler (Judge Mazzant, Texas):  Did the Court correctly resolve the cross-border and blocking statute issues?  Would the Court’s analysis withstand appellate scrutiny once post-GDPR? 

Remember: bits, bytes, sectors, clusters (allocated and unallocated), tracks, slack space, file systems and file tables, why deleted doesn’t mean gone, forensic imaging, forensic recovery techniques like file carving, EXIF data, geolocation, file headers/binary signatures, hashing, normalization, de-NISTing, deduplication and file shares.  For example: you should know that an old 3.5” floppy disk typically held no more than 1.44MB of data, whereas the capacity of a new hard drive or modern backup tape would be measured in terabytes. You should also know the relative capacities indicated by kilobytes, megabytes, gigabytes, terabytes and petabytes of data (i.e., their order of ascendancy, and the fact that each is 1,000 times more or less than the next or previous tier).  Naturally, I don’t expect you to know the tape chronology/capacities, ASCII/hex equivalencies or other ridiculous-to-remember stuff.

4. TERMINOLOGY: Lawyers, more than most, should appreciate the power of precise language.  When dealing with professionals in technical disciplines, it’s important to call things by their right name and recognize that terms of art in one context don’t necessarily mean the same thing in another.  When terms have been defined in the readings or lectures, I expect you to know what those terms mean.  For example, you should know what ESI, EDRM, RAID, system and application metadata (definitely get your arms firmly around application vs. system metadata), retention, purge and rotation mean (e.g., grandfather-father-son rotation); as well as Exchange, O365, 26(f), 502(d), normalization, recursion, native, near-native, TIFF+, load file, horizontal, global and vertical deduplication, IP addressing, data biopsy, forensically sound, productivity files, binary signatures and file carving, double deletion, load files, delimiters, slack space, unallocated clusters, UTC offset, proportionality, taxable costs, sampling, testing, iteration, TAR, predictive coding, recall, precision, UTC, VTL, SQL, etc.

5. ELECTRONIC DISCOVERY REFERENCE MODEL:  We’ve returned to the EDRM many times as we’ve moved from left to right across the iconic schematic.  Know it’s stages, their order and what those stages and triangles signify.

6. ENCODING: You should have a firm grasp of the concept of encoded information, appreciating that all digital data is stored as numbers notated as an unbroken sequence of 1s and 0s. How is that miracle possible? You should be comfortable with the concepts described in pp. 132-148 of the Workbook (and our class discussions of the fact that the various bases are just ways to express numbers of identical values in different notations). You should be old friends with the nature and purpose of, e.g., base 2 (binary), base 10 (decimal) base 16 (hexadecimal), base 64 (attachment encoding), ASCII and UNICODE.

7 STORAGE: You should have a working knowledge of the principal types and capacities of common electromagnetic and solid-state storage devices and media (because data volume has a direct relationship to cost of processing and time to review in e-discovery). You should be able to recognize and differentiate between, e.g., floppy disks, thumb drives, optical media, hard drives, solid state storage devices, RAID arrays and backup tape, including a general awareness of how much data they hold. Much of this is in pp. 22-48 of the Workbook (Introduction to Data Storage Media).  For ready reference and review, I’ve added an appendix to this study guide called, “Twenty-One Key Concepts for Electronically Stored Information.”

8. E-MAIL: E-mail remains the epicenter of corporate e-discovery; so, understanding e-mail systems, forms and the underlying structure of a message is important.  The e-mail chapter should be reviewed carefully.  I wouldn’t expect you to know file paths to messages or e-mail forensics, but the anatomy of an e-mail is something we’ve covered in detail through readings and exercises.  Likewise, the messaging protocols (POP, MAPI, IMAP, WEB, MIME, etc.), mail single message and container formats (PST, OST, EDB, NSF, EML, MSG, DBX, MHTML, MBOX) and leading enterprise mail client-server pairings (Exchange/Outlook, Domino/Notes, O365/browser) are worth remembering.  Don’t worry, you won’t be expected to extract epoch times from boundaries again. 😉

9. FORMS: Forms of production loom large in our curriculum.  Being that everything boils down to just an unbroken string of ones-and-zeroes, the native forms and the forms in which we elect to request and produce them (native, near-native, images (TIFF+ and PDF), paper) play a crucial role in all the “itys” of e-discovery: affordability, utility, intelligibility, searchability and authenticability.  What are the purposes and common structures of load files?  What are the pros and cons of the various forms of production?  Does one size fit all?  How does the selection of forms play out procedurally in federal and Texas state practice?  How do we deal with Bates numbering and redaction?  Is native and near-native production better and, if so, how do we argue the merits of native production to someone wedded to TIFF images?  This is HUGE in my book!  There WILL be at least one essay question on this and likely several other test questions.

10. SEARCH AND REVIEW: We spent a fair amount of time talking about and doing exercises on search and review.  You should understand the various established and emerging approaches to search: e.g., keyword search, Boolean search, fuzzy search, stemming, clustering, predictive coding and Technology Assisted Review (TAR).  Why is an iterative approach to search useful, and what difference does it make?  What are the roles of testing, sampling and cooperation in fashioning search protocols?  How do we measure the efficacy of search?  Hint: You should know how to calculate recall and precision and know the ‘splendid steps’ to take to improve the effectiveness and efficiency of keyword search (i.e., better F1 scores). 

You should know what a review tool does and customary features of a review platform.  You should know the high points of the Blair and Maron study (you read and heard about it multiple times, so you need not read the study itself).  Please also take care to understand the limitations on search highlighted in your readings and those termed The Streetlight Effect.

11.ACCESSIBILITY AND GOOD CAUSE: Understand the two-tiered analysis required by FRCP Rule 26(b)(2)(B).  When does the burden of proof shift, and what shifts it?  What tools (a/k/a conditions) are available to the Court to protect competing interests of the parties

12. FRE RULE 502: It’s your friend!  Learn it, love it, live it (or at least know when and how to use it).  What protection does it afford against subject matter waiver?  Is there anything like it in state practice?  Does it apply to all legally cognized privileges?

13. 2006 AND 2015 RULES AMENDMENTS: You should understand what they changed with respect to e-discovery.  Concentrate on proportionality and scope of discovery under Rule 26, along with standards for sanctions under new Rule 37(e).  What are the Rule 26 proportionality factors?  What are the findings required to obtain remedial action versus serious sanctions for spoliation of ESI under 37(e)?  Remember “intent to deprive.”

14. MULTIPLE CHOICE: When I craft multiple choice questions, there will typically be two answers you can quickly discard, then two you can’t distinguish without knowing the material. So, if you don’t know an answer, you increase your odds of doing well by eliminating the clunkers and guessing. I don’t deduct for wrong answers.  Read carefully to not whether the question seeks the exception or the rule. READ ALL ANSWERS before selecting the best one(s) as I often include an “all of the above” or “none of the above” option.

15. All lectures and reviews of exercises are recorded and online for your review, if desired.

16. In past exams, I used the following essay questions.  These will not be essay questions on your final exam; however, I furnish them here as examples of the scope and nature of prior essay questions:

EXAMPLE QUESTION A: On behalf of a class of homeowners, you sue a large bank for alleged misconduct in connection with mortgage lending and foreclosures. You and the bank’s counsel agree upon a set of twenty Boolean and proximity queries including:

  • fnma AND deed-in-lieu
  • 1/1/2009 W/4 foreclos!
  • Resumé AND loan officer
  • LTV AND NOT ARM
  • (Problem W/2 years) AND HARP

These are to be run against an index of ten loan officers’ e-mail (with attached spreadsheets, scanned loan applications, faxed appraisals and common productivity files) comprising approximately 540,000 messages and attachments).  Considering the index search problems discussed in class and in your reading called “The Streetlight Effect in E-Discovery,” identify at least three capabilities or limitations of the index and search tool that should be determined to gauge the likely effectiveness of the contemplated searches.  Be sure to explain why each matter. 

I am not asking you to assess or amend the agreed-upon queries.  I am asking what needs to be known about the index and search tool to ascertain if the queries will work as expected.

EXAMPLE QUESTION B: The article, A Bill of Rights for E-Discovery included the following passage:

I am a requesting party in discovery.

I have duties.

I am obliged to: …

Work cooperatively with the producing party to identify reasonable and effective means to reduce the cost and burden of discovery, including, as appropriate, the use of tiering, sampling, testing and iterative techniques, along with alternatives to manual review and keyword search.

Describe how “tiering, sampling, testing and iterative techniques, along with alternatives to manual review and keyword search” serve to reduce the cost and burden of e-discovery.  Be sure to make clear what each term means.

It’s been an excellent semester and a pleasure for me to have had the chance to work with a bright bunch.  Thank you for your effort!  I’ve greatly enjoyed getting to know you notwithstanding the limits imposed by the pandemic and Mother Nature’s icy wrath.  I wish you the absolute best on the exam and in your splendid careers to come.  Count me as a future resource to call on if I can be of help to you.  Best of Luck!   Craig Ball

APPENDIX

Twenty-One Key Concepts for Electronically Stored Information

  1. Common law imposes a duty to preserve potentially relevant information in anticipation of litigation.
  2. Most information is electronically stored information (ESI).
  3. Understanding ESI entails knowledge of information storage media, encodings and formats.
  4. There are many types of e-storage media of differing capacities, form factors and formats:
    a) analog (phonograph record) or digital (hard drive, thumb drive, optical media).
    b) mechanical (electromagnetic hard drive, tape, etc.) or solid-state (thumb drive, SIM card, etc.).
  5. Computers don’t store “text,” “documents,” “pictures,” “sounds.” They only store bits (ones or zeroes).
  6. Digital information is encoded as numbers by applying various encoding schemes:
    a) ASCII or Unicode for alphanumeric characters.
    b) JPG for photos, DOCX for Word files, MP3 for sound files, etc.
  7. We express these numbers in a base or radix (base 2 binary, 10 decimal, 16 hexadecimal, 60 sexagesimal). E-mail messages encode attachments in base 64.
  8. The bigger the base, the smaller the space required to notate and convey the information.
  9. Digitally encoded information is stored (written):
    a) physically as bytes (8-bit blocks) in sectors and partitions.
    b) logically as clusters, files, folders and volumes.
  10. Files use binary header signatures to identify file formats (type and structure) of data.
  11. Operating systems use file systems to group information as files and manage filenames and metadata.
  12. Windows file systems employ filename extensions (e.g., .txt, .jpg, .exe) to flag formats.
  13. All ESI includes a component of metadata (data about data) even if no more than needed to locate it.
  14. A file’s metadata may be greater in volume or utility than the contents of the file it describes.
  15. File tables hold system metadata about the file (e.g., name, locations on disk, MAC dates): it’s CONTEXT.
  16. Files hold application metadata (e.g., EXIF geolocation data in photos, comments in docs): it’s CONTENT.
  17. File systems allocate clusters for file storage, deleting files releases cluster allocations for reuse.
  18. If unallocated clusters aren’t reused, deleted files may be recovered (“carved”) via computer forensics.
  19. Forensic (“bitstream”) imaging is a method to preserve both allocated and unallocated clusters.
  20. Data are numbers, so data can be digitally “fingerprinted” using one-way hash algorithms (MD5, SHA1).
  21. Hashing facilitates identification, deduplication and de-NISTing of ESI in e-discovery.

The Great Pandemic Leap

Much has been made of the “Great Pandemic Leap” by law firms and courts. Pandemic proved to be, if not the mother of invention, at least the mother****** who FINALLY got techno tardy lawyers to shuffle forward. The alleged leap had nothing to do with new technology. Zoom and other collaboration tools have been around a long time. In fact, April 21, 2021 was Zoom’s 10th Birthday! Happy Birthday, Zoom! Thanks for being there for us.

No, it wasn’t new technology. The ‘Ten Years in Ten Weeks’ great leap was enabled by compulsion, adoption and support.

“Compulsion” because we couldn’t meet face-to-face, and seeing faces (and slides and white boards) is important.
“Adoption” because so many embraced Zoom and its ilk that we suddenly enjoyed a common meeting place.
“Support” because getting firms and families up and running on Zoom et al. became a transcendent priority.

It didn’t hurt that schools moving to Zoom served to put a support scion in many lawyers’ homes and, let’s face it Atticus, the learning curve wasn’t all that steep. Everyone already had a device with camera and microphone. Zoom made it one-click easy to join a meeting, even if eye-level camera positioning and unmuting of microphones has proven more confounding to lawyers than the Rule Against Perpetuities.

For me, the Great Leap manifested as the near-universal ability to convene on a platform where screen sharing and remote control were simple. I’ve long depended on remote control and screen sharing tools to access machines by Remote Desktop Protocol (RDP) or TeamViewer (not to mention PCAnywhere and legacy applications that made WFH possible in the 90s and aughts). But, that was on my own machines. Linking to somebody else’s machine without a tech-savvy soul on the opposite end was a nightmare. If you’ve ever tried to remotely support a parent, you understand. “No, Mom, please don’t click anything until I tell you. Oh, you already did? What did the error message say? Next time, don’t hit ‘Okay” until you read the message, please Mom.

E-discovery and digital forensics require defensible data identification, preservation and collection. The pandemic made deskside reviews and onsite collection virtually impossible, or more accurately, those tasks became possible only virtually. Suddenly, miraculously, everyone knew how to join a Zoom call, so custodians could share screens and hand over remote control of keyboard and mouse. I could record the sessions to document the work and remotely load software (like iMazing or CoolMuster) to preserve and access mobile devices. Remote control and screen sharing let me target collection efforts based on my judgment and not be left at the mercy of a custodian’s self-interested actions. Custodians could observe, assist and intervene in my work or they could opt to walk away and leave me to do my thing. I was “there,” but less intrusively and spared the expense and hassle of travel. I could meet FRCP 26(g) obligations and make a record to return to if an unforeseen issue arose.

In my role as investigator, there’s are advantages attendant to being onsite; e.g., I sometimes spot evidence of undisclosed data sources. But, weighed against the convenience and economy of remote identification and collection, I can confidently say I’m never going back to the old normal when I can do the work as well via Zoom.

Working remotely as I’ve described requires a passing familiarity with Zoom screen sharing, if only to be able to talk others through unseen menus. As Zoom host, you will need to extend screen sharing privileges to the remote user. Do this on-the-fly by making the remote user a meeting co-host, (click “More” alongside their name in the Participants screen). Alternatively, you can select Advanced Sharing Options from the Share Screen menu. Under “Who can Share?” choose “All Participants.”

To acquire control of the remote user’s mouse and keyboard, have the remote user initiate a screen share then open the View Options dropdown menu alongside the green bar indicating you’re viewing a shared screen. Select “Request Remote Control,” then click “Request” to confirm. The remote user will see a message box seeking authorization to control their screen. Once authorized, click inside the shared screen window to take control of the remote machine.

If you need to inspect a remote user’s iPhone or iPad, Zoom supports sharing those devices using a free plugin that links the mobile device over the same WiFi connection as the Zoom session. To initiate an iPhone/iPad screen share, instruct the remote user to click Screen Share and then select the iPhone/iPad icon at right for further instructions. Simpler still, have the remote user install Zoom on the phone or pad under scrutiny and join the Zoom session from the mobile device. Once in the meeting, the remote user screen shares from the session on the mobile device. Easy-peasy AND it works for Android phones, too!

So Counselor, go ahead and take that victory lap. Whether you made a great leap or were dragged kicking and screaming to a soupçon of technical proficiency, it’s great to see you! Hang onto those gains, and seek new ways to leverage technology in your practice. Your life may no longer depend on it, but your future certainly does.

Life Lessons from E-Discovery

Eight years ago, my old friends and Über-thought leaders Bill Hamilton and George Socha created an e-discovery conference targeting an underserved constituency: lawyers without the luxury of an e-discovery practice group or litigation support staff. Regular folks. The always enlightening and enjoyable University of Florida E-Discovery Conference has been a fixture on my speaking calendar for years. This year, the pandemic foreclosed the customary face-to-face confab in central Florida, so we convened virtually– just Bill, George, me and 3,000 of our closest friends. Seriously, the turnout was astounding: 3,058 unique attendees! BRAVO!

My contribution was modest–fifteen minutes chatting about Life Lessons from E-Discovery. Here’s what I shared:

Thirty years ago, Robert Fulgham published a bestseller called, “All I Really Need To Know I Learned In Kindergarten.”  It posited that the simple lessons we gained as children can guide us all our lives.

The lessons were things like:

  • Share everything.
  • Play fair.
  • Don’t hit people.
  • Put things back where you found them.
  • Clean up your own mess.
  • Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
  • Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.
  • Flush and wash your hands.

That last one proved especially useful of late!

Fulgham’s point was that childish precepts extrapolate well to our adult lives, to relationships, business, government, really to everything.

I’ve been a student and teacher of electronic evidence for forty years, so when Professor Hamilton asked me to say a few words today, I wondered what I’d gleaned from electronic discovery that might yield life lessons like those kindergarten rules.  Many things came to mind.  Things like:

They all say basically the same thing: treat others with respect and courtesy.  I commend them all to you, but the shameful truth is I’ve violated enough of those precepts that I feel unworthy to preach their indisputable value.

Instead, I sought five precepts uniquely suited to e-discovery, five lessons I’ve acquired and come to believe in through hard experience.

I should confess that my point of view is a jaundiced and cynical one.  As a special master, Courts bring me in when discovery’s gone off the rails, often when sanctions are in the offing.  In my world, incompetence and deceit are the norm.  So, if my lessons strike you as too obvious or too simple, I’m thrilled to hear it.

The first rule, and really the most fundamental is:

Tell the truth based on fact. 

Albert Einstein said, “Imagination is more important than information.”  Sorry, Al, not in e-discovery.

When it comes to e-discovery, information is more important than imagination.  In e-discovery, information is everythingMeasurement trumps opinion.  Your gut sense that the other side is withholding evidence is fascinating, but it’s not proof.  Your certainty that the client has no responsive data is just baloney without a competent search. 

If we are to be credible professionals, We must concede what we don’t know, share what we do know and recognize that cooperation isn’t a hallmark of weakness but a harbinger of strength.  Bluffing is fine at the poker table, but it will kill you in Court.  Your word—your credibility—your reputation for honesty is worth more than all your education and skill.

And a variant on number one is:

Tell the truth, no matter the consequences.

I’ve written hundreds of articles about e-discovery and forensics.  Colleagues ask, “Aren’t you afraid something you wrote will be used against you in cross-examination?”  I tell them I’ve never worried about that because I’ve told the truth as I knew it in everything I wrote.  Sometimes I was mistaken, but I was never false.  So, I don’t have to remember what I said.  I just hold on to what I know to be true.

If someone wants to cite me to impeach me, bring it on!  I’ll take them from punched cards to magnetic media to solid state storage, from big iron mainframes to client-server to the Cloud.  I’ll share my conviction that learning never ends, and, yes, mistakes happen along the way.  The measure that matters is how we own our errors.  If we stick to the truth, we can gain more from failure than success.

My second precept is just one word.  A century ago, IBM’s founder Thomas J. Watson put a word on an easel at a business meeting.  It read “THINK.”  That’s still IBM’s slogan, and it’s what I want to shout at lawyers who serve ridiculous requests for production or file boilerplate objections.

THINK!  I want to stamp it on the foreheads of lawyers who just don’t think about where evidence is likely to be found or sensible ways to find it.  I know lawyers to be first-class thinkers; so, it’s maddening when good lawyers take off their thinking caps in e-discovery.  Any lawyer can learn enough tech to master the “E” in e-discovery.  Anyone.  All of us on this conference faculty are convinced of it.  It’s what gets us out of bed each day.

But to do it, lawyers must cast aside doubt and turn off the parts of their brains that tell them they’re too old, too busy or just too much a lawyer to learn something new.  Conferences like this one help—thank you for being here–but it takes more than a few hours on Zoom or a big litigation budget to become competent to serve your clients in the realm of electronic evidence.  It requires a willingness to fearlessly embrace an unfamiliar discipline–to learn a second thing. 

It takes a commitment to study, question, pursue and explore information about information and a commitment to THINK, THINK, THINK about how people communicate, what tools and software they use, their language, what metadata matters and where data lives. So, please don’t think you can’t learn it, or worse, that you need not learn it.  You can and you must.  Nothing less than the future of the civil justice system depends on it.  Of course, you’re here pursuing greater expertise, so I’m preaching to the choir.

My third lesson is: Have a plan.

In my thirties, I read Robert Caro’s epic biography of Robert Moses.  Moses was an urban planner who reshaped New York.  Robert Moses’ massive projects got built.  The secret to his success was that, where others came to planning meetings with ideas, Robert Moses arrived with blueprints and budgets.  He was a man with a plan.

In e-discovery, lawyers are brilliant at articulating objections, at saying what clients won’t do; but what’s often missing is a well-reasoned plan for what clients will do.  When you come with a plan, it’s clear you thought about what must be done.  A practical plan demonstrates a commitment to progress.  A reasonable plan forces the other side to work within your framework.  Judges love it when lawyers have a plan.  The Rules of discovery are written to better serve litigants with a plan. 

The e-discovery plan is a protocol. E-discovery demands a good protocol and success in e-discovery requires that lawyers know which features of a protocol are crucial and which are negotiable.  So, always show up with a plan.

Number four is: Never attribute to guile that which can be explained by incompetence.

I borrowed and adapted this one from my late friend, Browning Marean, who had a huge store of wise sayings.  In fairness, Browning borrowed it from Robert Heinlein, whose “Heinlein’s Razor” reads, “never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.”  Because we know lawyers aren’t stupid, I prefer to term it a shortfall in competence.

When a party messes up in e-discovery, the victims of failure often cry “foul” and suspect an intent to deprive them of the evidence.  In my experience, intent,–I’m calling it “guile,”– when it’s genuine, tends to manifest as efforts to conceal the screw up—it’s the cover up that kills you, not the failure itself.  Most screw ups are just… screw ups.  Always avoidable, sometimes reprehensible, but more often the result of apathy than antipathy. Maybe that’s why the last set of Rules amendments shielded parties from serious sanctions for mere incompetence.  In my mind, the decision to tie judges’ hands when disciplining incompetence and spoliation was a poor one.  A mistakenly political one.  Fear of sanctions was the prime driver of the e-discovery revolution.  It was the reason lawyers and companies came around and started preserving and producing ESI.  Sanctions were the driver of competence.  Sadly, we never had much of a carrot, and now they’ve taken away the stick.

And my final lesson is one of human nature:

Remember that Courts guard their authority more scrupulously than your client’s rights.

What I mean by this, with no disrespect to the judges on this faculty or listening, is a recognition born of experience, that a party is considerably more likely to be disciplined for violating a court order than for failing to fulfill obligations to an opponent. The takeaway is that an effort to secure sanctions is a marathon, not a sprint. 

You must take the time and make the effort to mature motions to compel or for protection into explicit orders of the Court.  A court cannot function if its orders are ignored with impunity.  So, if sanctions are your objective, position the failure to produce to be more than simply a transgression of your client’s rights, put it in the posture of something that threatens the court’s sovereignty.

And while we’re talking sanctions, never forget that sanctions are exceptional remedies.  Courts hate to sanction parties or counsel.  Though the threat of sanctions carried along in a case can be a useful tactic, seeking sanctions to patch a weak case is a fool’s errand.  Discovery is a mechanism to gather evidence to make your case, nothing more or less than that.

Those are my five.  I expect you have some great ones of your own.  Next year, I’d like to hear you sharing yours right here.  Even better, let’s all meet in Gainesville. Share our ideas.  Break bread and toast a return to normalcy.   That’s an invitation to join the e-discovery community.  Being part of it has been one of the great delights of my professional life. I’ve made wonderful friends that way.  You will, too.

Be well and thank you.