The "parties" referred to here are the suspects or defendants who are currently undergoing investigation, prosecution review, or trial following the occurrence of a criminal case. Moreover, when we say these parties "study law," we mean they are learning about legal principles and procedures specifically relevant to their roles during these stages of the legal process.

When criminal defense lawyers meet with their clients, they often encounter situations where clients ask them to purchase legal books and bring them for study. Alternatively, clients might mention that they’ve already obtained the materials and have begun learning key areas like criminal law and criminal procedure—using this newfound knowledge to discuss their cases with the lawyer in an effort to defend themselves. But is it truly a positive development for a client to start studying the law while in custody, equipping themselves with legal tools to represent their own case? Should lawyers encourage this approach—or perhaps discourage it altogether?

I believe we first need to clarify why the individuals are studying the law in the first place. If they’re learning legal principles during their daily lives—regardless of the specific purpose—it should always be encouraged. On the other hand, if someone starts cramming legal knowledge only after getting into trouble, it’s likely driven by a desire to rationalize or justify their actions. Such an approach, aimed at self-reflection and improving their awareness of the rule of law to guide future behavior and help them realign with legal norms, still deserves encouragement. However, in practice, most suspects and defendants who attend these impromptu "law tutoring" sessions do so solely to find excuses for their actions or to concoct explanations that absolve them of responsibility. In these cases, studying the law becomes a double-edged sword, and frankly, I don’t support this kind of utilitarian, self-serving approach to learning.

The reason why parties are discouraged from cramming legal knowledge at the last minute is primarily to ensure the overall effectiveness of their defense—by minimizing the negative impact that incomplete or superficial understanding of the law, combined with an overly eager desire to defend themselves, could have on the quality of their representation.

A common scenario is when individuals, after only skimming through legal statutes or reading a few books, mistakenly believe they’ve mastered the law—or even its underlying principles—leading to communication barriers and misunderstandings with their defense lawyers. After all, the law is far more than just a few lines written on paper; it’s the logic behind those words that forms its core, and it’s through practical application that the law truly comes alive. Even law students who spend four years in school may still remain stuck at the theoretical level—they often need extensive hands-on experience through internships before they begin to genuinely grasp how the law works in real-world situations. Yet how could a defendant, locked up for just a few months, possibly hope to fully understand and skillfully apply the law? As a result, when clients approach legal learning in this superficial way, they often fall into a predictable pattern: They obsessively focus on finding statutes that seem favorable to their case, clinging tightly to them as if mastering a single provision will magically unlock their path to exoneration. Alternatively, they either conclude that their lawyer—or even the entire justice system—is somehow flawed. This mindset can create significant obstacles when it comes to crafting and executing an effective defense strategy.

For instance, in some cases, parties involved, after studying the provisions of the Criminal Procedure Law regarding jurisdiction, believe that the designated jurisdiction—whether based on their place of residence or where the alleged offense occurred—is incorrect. They insist that procedural fairness inherently influences substantive justice, arguing that if jurisdiction is flawed, the case shouldn’t proceed at all. As a result, they encourage their lawyers to repeatedly raise jurisdictional objections, almost as though altering the jurisdiction could somehow sway the ultimate outcome of the case. In reality, while the Criminal Procedure Law initially stipulates that jurisdiction typically falls under the location of the offense or the defendant’s residence, judicial interpretations have been steadily expanding the scope of what qualifies as the "location of the offense." Now, many locations—whether directly tied to where the act took place, where its consequences occurred, or even other relevant factors—can now serve as grounds for determining jurisdiction. Moreover, with the recent introduction of new interpretations of the Criminal Procedure Law, designating jurisdiction based on the rationale of "greater suitability" has become increasingly common. This means that what once seemed like a clear-cut jurisdictional issue may no longer hold as firmly as it once did. Thus, on one hand, what parties perceive as a jurisdictional error may not actually be an error at all. On the other hand, persistently pursuing such objections might have minimal impact on the case itself. For example, there are instances where the Ministry of Public Security, the Supreme People’s Procuratorate, and the Supreme People’s Court have successively taken turns designating jurisdiction—even after the first-instance proceedings have already concluded. In these situations, further efforts to challenge jurisdiction would clearly fail to influence the final verdict. Instead, it may be far more effective—and strategically sound—to shift focus toward other fundamental procedural violations or substantive issues that directly affect sentencing and conviction. By concentrating resources on these critical areas, lawyers can achieve the best possible defense outcomes.

Another common scenario occurs when individuals, despite briefly studying legal principles, attempt to rigidly apply those laws during interrogations or trials—frantically pointing out the distinctions between legal statutes and their own actions. Ironically, this approach often backfires, leading investigators and judges to perceive it as mere sophistry. It gives the impression that the individual is deliberately trying to exploit the law or evade accountability altogether. Instead of diving into legal arguments, it’s far better for the defendant to stick strictly to stating the facts without delving into legal nuances. Even if asked about their state of mind at the time of the alleged act, they should focus on straightforward, honest reflections—perhaps even admitting outright that they didn’t fully understand the law. Under no circumstances should someone who has just learned legal concepts in detention start “flexing” them by spouting off complex legal doctrines like "illegal evidence," "presumption of innocence," "reasonable doubt," or "a single piece of evidence isn’t enough to convict." Such behavior not only comes across as manipulative but also risks portraying the defendant as openly defying the law—making it harder for the court to believe their claims of innocence. More critically, this approach can create a dangerous conflict between the defendant and their defense attorney. The two may end up repeating similar arguments, while the defendant’s initial, hastily prepared statements often lack depth. By the time the lawyer steps in to craft a more nuanced defense, it’s already too late—and the overall effectiveness of the legal strategy suffers significantly.

In fact, during criminal proceedings, both the defendant and the defense attorney should fulfill their respective roles while working closely together. As the direct witness to the events in question, the defendant is responsible for truthfully recounting the facts and clarifying any details that the court may not already be aware of or fully understand—this is known as factual defense. On the other hand, the defense attorney, who has comprehensive access to all case files and the progress of the legal process, can offer expert opinions on whether the alleged actions constitute a crime, what specific crime(s) apply, and how the sentence should be determined—this is referred to as legal defense. It’s precisely here that the distinction between self-defense by the defendant and attorney-led defense becomes clear, and this is also the very reason why defendants often seek professional legal assistance. Consequently, lawyers cannot—and should not—stand in for their clients in court to present facts or answer questions posed by the judge. Similarly, defendants must avoid attempting to take over their attorneys’ roles entirely, from presenting facts to arguing legal points on their own behalf. Otherwise, the trial would become disjointed and ineffective, and the ultimate outcome of the case would naturally suffer as well.

For instance, after studying the law in detention centers, many defendants, relying on rules of evidence, often emphasize during courtroom cross-examinations how the weapon used in the crime was lost or how key eyewitnesses were absent. They argue, based on the principle of "in dubio pro reo," that they are innocent. However, this line of reasoning can give the court the impression that the defendant may have displayed a strong awareness of criminal investigation techniques even before committing the crime—perhaps having meticulously prepared to evade legal accountability—thus creating an almost "perfect" evidentiary scenario. Not only does this approach pose significant challenges for the defense attorney, but more critically, it directly undermines the overall effectiveness of the defense strategy. In contrast, if the defendant focuses solely on recounting the actual events as they unfolded at the time of the incident—presenting the facts plainly and concisely—the lawyer can then step in, applying the law to rigorously analyze any weaknesses in the evidence. By seamlessly connecting the facts with the applicable legal principles, the defense is far more likely to achieve a compelling and convincing outcome.