'Judge Mathis': One of the Court Shows That Distorts Legal Proceedings

Friday, October 10, 2003

Page 7

PERSPECTIVES (Column)

‘Judge Mathis’: One of the Court Shows That Distorts Legal Proceedings

By ROGER M. GRACE

The plaintiff was suing for $275 in unpaid loans. That, naturally, led to the plaintiff telling the judge about the defendant’s sex life.

Discussion of sex is bound to come up in such cases —that is, if the case is being adjudicated on “Judge Mathis,” one of seven courtroom simulation shows now in syndication.

I watched episodes of each of them as my series of “Reminiscing” columns on courtroom shows through the decades, starting in the 1940s, edged toward the present. While one can feel some nostalgia over the “Traffic Court” shows on KABC in the late 1950s and Judge Joseph Wapner’s “People’s Court” in the 1980s, it is difficult to react other than with revulsion at the smutty, silly sensationalism that comprises today’s depictions of courtroom proceedings.

Two of the shows—“Divorce Court” and “Judge Hatchett”—have family law formats, and center on sexual relations. The shows are touted as “real,” though no “real” adjudications occur. On some of the Hatchett shows, the session is capped by the revealing of DNA test results, and if the “defendant” appears to be the father, the “verdict” is that the mother may seek child support.

The other five shows deal with small claims matters. They are billed as dealing with “real cases.” That’s deceptive. Real cases might have been filed, but they were dismissed, with the TV “judge” acting as an arbitrator in a mock small claims court setting.

The false impression that’s inevitably conveyed to many a viewer is that actual court proceedings are being aired. Given the shows’ extreme departures from reality, that’s a public disservice.

To show you how gross the distortions of court proceedings are, I’m going to recount what was shown last Monday on “Judge Mathis,” an hour show (that’s about 60 minutes too long) aired Monday through Friday on Channel 9 at 11 a.m.

The plaintiff in the first of four cases was suing his fiancee’s sister for $275 which he claimed he had lent the defendant and which he insisted was not repaid. How does that give rise to allegations of sexual promiscuity? Well, here’s how the session started (with some of the cross dialogue—such as the defendant periodically interjecting, “He’s a liar”—omitted):

PLAINTIFF: What I need to do, your honor, I need to tell you what kind of person she [the defendant] is, okay? Serina is the kind of person, that she’s a liar, she thinks she’s smarter than anyone else—and I guarantee you, she’s sitting there and she thinks she already got you already won over, you know how she’s all prettied up. She’s scandalous. She uses sex as a tool in trying—

JUDGE: Don’t tell me she’s going to try that on me, too.

[Audience laughs.]

PLAINTIFF: I wouldn’t doubt it.

JUDGE: You say she’s all prettied up, she’s got me. Now you say she uses sex as a tool. I’m going to have to have [bailiff] Doyle stand in for that. Go ahead.

PLAINTIFF: She’s slept with countless men, over 100 men.

JUDGE: Only 100 men?

PLAINTIFF: At least 100 men.

DEFENDANT: That’s a lie. You just want me to sleep with you, that’s all.

JUDGE: What does this have to do with what you’re suing her for, sir? And how’s this relevant? Now if you’re telling me, if I heard you, about her dishonesty and that she’s a liar, you can tell me about that because it might be relevant to whether I can get the truth out of her today. But the number of men she slept with has nothing to do with whether she owes you money or not.

PLAINTIFF: Because I’m one of those, I’m one of the men that she’s tried to—

DEFENDANT: You’re a liar. You’ve tried to get down my pants so many times.

PLAINTIFF: She’s slept with my fiancee’s husband.

JUDGE: Her sister’s husband?

PLAINTIFF: Yeah, her sister’s husband.

DEFENDANT: I was a little girl, a 13-year-old girl, and he took advantage.

The judge, notwithstanding having ruled that sexual conduct was not an issue, then called the sister to testify, and elicited from her what the defendant had told her concerning sexual solicitations by the plaintiff.

Bickering occurred between the judge and the defendant, with Mathis pointing out that the plaintiff was perspiring. He roared at one point:

“You trying to cut everybody off. That indicates guilt.”

Reminder: the plaintiff was suing over moneys allegedly owed on loans.

At the end of the segment, the defendant acknowledged she borrowed $285 from the plaintiff and had only paid back $10, and judgment was awarded the plaintiff.

What the public has learned is that the plaintiff in a small claims action may start off by bellowing accusations that the defendant is a liar because this will assist the judge in gaging the defendant’s credibility. There’s also the lesson that the plaintiff may not get into the matter of the defendant’s promiscuity, but that the judge may draw out testimony concerning the plaintiff’s efforts to seduce the defendant.

This is, of course, helpful information for the public to have.

If the lessons are converted into conduct in an actual small claims proceeding, Judge Mathis can be cited as authority.

In the next case, the plaintiff was suing the defendant for $1,470 based on his bashing in the windshield of her car.

The plaintiff began by characterizing the defendant as a “neighborhood gangster” and would-be rapper,” adding: “He’s always trying to cock me.”

The judge quipped: “If you’re a rapper with a rap sheet, you might go platinum.”

The plaintiff said that because the defendant was a reputed hood, she was afraid not to give him her telephone number, having learned from TV shows that a refusal could be perilous.

“What TV show, sweetie?” Mathis inquired. (He regularly addresses young females in that manner.)

The defendant opened by saying of the plaintiff:

“She’s known to have sex with everybody in the neighborhood.”

This dialogue ensued:

JUDGE: Where do you get this information, sir?

DEFENDANT: I mean, this is what I seen.

JUDGE: You’ve seen her having sex with everyone in the neighborhood?

DEFENDANT. I know. I know. I know. I got friends.

JUDGE: I’m asking you how you know.

DEFENDANT: I don’t have any witnesses here today.

JUDGE: I know. But just tell me how you know.

DEFENDANT: ’Cause I know because I got friends.

JUDGE: Have people who had sex with her told you?

DEFENDANT: Yes.

JUDGE: OK. Just say that. [Unintelligible] didn’t say that.

And what have we learned so far? Well, we learned from the previous case that a defendant’s alleged promiscuity is not relevant in an action to recover a debt. However, we’ve found out now that the plaintiff’s sexual activity is in issue in an action for property damage. With all these legal principles being taught, I wonder if MCLE credit is available for watching “Judge Mathis.”

Returning now to the court session…the defendant branded the plaintiff “crazy.” He alleged that the incident in question began with the plaintiff throwing a bottle at him. Mathis asked if he filed a police report, and he acknowledged he had not, prompting “his honor” to rule:

“All right. Then you’re crazy. She’s not crazy because she has the police report. She has the estimate of her damages. And she has proven her case and you have not. So I don’t know who you think is crazy but today she has proven she’s less crazy than you….

“You better try rapping. Give me a rap.”

The defendant, stung by the outcome, at first declined, though it was obvious it had been planned with him that he would perform.

“Do your thing—bring it,” Mathis exhorted.

The plaintiff then recited doggerel to a rap beat, and the judge applauded.

I wonder how many foreign countries this show is aired in, imparting to the world how courtroom proceedings are conducted here.

In the third segment, the plaintiffs, newlyweds, were suing the owner of a disc jockey service. They complained of gaffes by a DJ at their wedding (such as introducing another couple as the bride and groom) and the failure of the service to provide the contracted-for limousine to take them from the church to the reception. They wanted the return of the $559 they had paid.

The defendant alleged that the plaintiffs “were miserable newlyweds off the bat” and that “the groom was hitting on the bridesmaid.”

Mathis asked the plaintiffs:

“Are you sure all you want is $559?”

In the end, he declared:

“I’m going to grant your $559—plus another $1,000 for pain and suffering.”

Mathis told the defendant:

“You need to be out of business.”

The educational value of this show is astounding, eh? Now we’ve learned that a judge is vested with discretion to award damages that were not sought by the plaintiffs.

And in the final case that day, the plaintiff sued for damages in the amount of $336 based on the defendant, a social guest, having spilled a drink on her stereo while intoxicated.

At one point, as Mathis brought a glass with liquid in it to his lips, he queried of the defendant:

“You want a drink?”

He then noted he was merely consuming water.

Mathis found the defendant liable, but slashed the award by roughly 50 percent on the ground that the plaintiff was contributorily negligent, having provided the alcohol to her guest when she was already drunk.

He then told the defendant:

“Alcohol treatment is ordered for you.”

We’ve now learned about imposition of conditions of probation in a civil action.

I caught part of yesterday’s “Judge Mathis” show. It was more of the same.

The plaintiff was suing his half brother for damage to his car. Naturally, this entailed a dissertation on his sibling’s drug addiction, incarceration in prison, and ejectment from the family home.

The defendant countered with a revelation that his father was an alcoholic.

Mathis told the plaintiff:

“You wanted to give me your brother’s background. Fine. I also got your father’s background. Ha, ha.”

In the second case, the plaintiff alleged that the defendant took her car without her permission, wrecked it, and wouldn’t pay for the damage. In support of her action, the plaintiff testified that the defendant had been living with her but cheated on her, having at least nine other women at his beck and call.

The defendant testified that he was a “player” and knew how to discipline women.

Mathis made a joke of it. Again using his bailiff as a foil, he told the defendant:

“Doyle wants to know. He’s always wanted to be a ‘player.’…Teach him the game….He’s going to tape the show. How you gonna discipline them?”

From these cases we have gained further understanding of the elastic nature of the concept of relevancy in court proceedings. In suing for damage to an automobile, it’s permissible to bring to the judge’s attention such matters as the defendant’s use of illicit drugs or philandering.

Despite my facetious allusions to the educational value of “Judge Mathis,” it’s clear that there is none. The show disseminates misinformation on the law and court proceedings. Billing of the proceedings as “real” borders on, if it does not constitute, false advertising.

The star, Greg Mathis, is an erstwhile Detroit judge. He must know that he is participating in a burlesque version of court proceedings which members of the public will believe to be “real.” Yet, he participates. Money will often cause people to do bizarre things.

And there are other courtroom shows that are just as bad.

In my next column, I’ll spotlight “Divorce Court,” starring Los Angeles attorney Mablean Ephriam.

THANKS, TEACHER—My thanks to my high school English teacher, Miss Penney (now known as Flo Chotiner, wife of retired Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Kenneth Chotiner) for deciding a disagreement among our news staff. By telephone, she adjudicated the correct verb in the headline on this article to be “Distorts” not “Distort.” Miss Penney could start a new type of business as an AGD—arbitrator of grammatical disputes.