Some lawyers, when confronted with situations where legitimate requests are rejected during case representation—or when judicial officers appear to be handling cases with clear bias—hesitate to firmly assert their clients' rights or call out the misconduct of the办案人员 (case-handling personnel). Instead, they’re even less likely to pursue formal remedies like filing complaints, reporting issues, or engaging in open confrontation. The reason for this "deference," paradoxically, isn’t fear of offending the case handlers; rather, it’s concern that challenging them might further complicate the case—and ultimately make things worse for their clients. In such scenarios, lawyers often choose to swallow their frustrations, exercise restraint, and cooperate as much as possible, believing it’s the lesser of two evils. I’ve repeatedly highlighted this issue during training sessions and conference speeches: yielding on legal rights not only undermines the legitimate interests of the parties involved but also fails to deliver justice. After all, remaining silent about illegal procedures or unjust rulings won’t magically lead to fairness or impartiality. In many cases, judges or prosecutors may act unfairly—or even illegally—due to personal limitations in their understanding of the law. As lawyers, we have a critical role to play here: we must promptly and clearly point out these shortcomings so that those involved can reflect on their actions and make necessary corrections.However, sometimes the root cause isn’t a lack of legal expertise but rather external pressures—whether internal or external—that influence decision-making. This is especially true in high-profile cases, politically sensitive matters, or corruption-related cases assigned by superiors, where case handlers may feel caught between conflicting demands and their own personal integrity. Under such circumstances, lawyers should remain steadfast in advocating for their clients’ rights, actively challenging procedural violations, and promptly submitting written applications or legal opinions. This ensures that case handlers have solid, well-documented grounds to report back to their superiors. After all, judicial officers operate under the principle of "lifetime accountability for each case." No one wants to bear responsibility for a wrongful verdict—but at the same time, they may feel uneasy about voicing concerns directly to their superiors or presenting independent, dissenting views. In these moments, relaying the lawyer’s demands becomes a natural and effective solution. I’ve always described this approach as lawyers skillfully—and courageously—standing up to support prosecutors and judges when needed.
    

Of course, the above discussion rests on one crucial premise: lawyers must have an intimate familiarity with the case details, thoroughly analyze them, and precisely identify every critical juncture and underlying issue. Additionally, they need to be adept at applying both procedural and substantive legal principles—ready to draw upon them effortlessly in practice. Unfortunately, some lawyers fail to put in the necessary effort, leaving them ill-equipped to address these key aspects confidently. As a result, they lack the assurance to boldly point out problems, let alone engage in spontaneous, on-the-spot rebuttals or protests during critical moments.

When it comes to mastering procedural law, I recall a recent high-profile organized-crime case involving dozens of defendants. During the pre-trial conference, the panel decided to hold separate trials—first for about half of the defendants who had already pleaded guilty and agreed to cooperate, and then for the remaining defendants who refused to admit guilt. If you were faced with this situation, would you accept this "innovative" approach to trial proceedings, or would you firmly oppose it? And if you chose to oppose, what specific reasons and strategies would you employ? In response, when we first raised concerns about this unconventional trial method in court, we immediately voiced our strong objections orally. We argued that such an approach would directly undermine the defendants' rights to due process, including their right to be informed and to confront evidence against them. Moreover, it could severely hamper the panel’s ability to thoroughly investigate and accurately determine the facts of the case—and might even risk coercing innocent defendants into pleading guilty. Following our objections, we promptly convened a group of renowned experts in criminal law theory and practice to rigorously analyze and debate the legality of this novel trial procedure. The conclusions from this expert review were then attached as supporting documentation to our formal complaint, submitted both to the higher-level People’s Court and to the Anti-Organized Crime Office. This move significantly bolstered our legal challenge, highlighting the court’s apparent disregard for established legal principles. Soon after, the president of the court personally reached out to discuss the matter with me, even inviting representatives from the prosecution office to join the conversation. As a result, the trial panel ultimately corrected its flawed approach, ensuring that the proceedings adhered strictly to the provisions of the Criminal Procedure Law. In the end, the court largely adopted the defense counsel’s arguments, preserving the vast majority of the “crime boss’s” personal assets in the verdict—a decision that clearly demonstrated the court’s recognition and respect for the lawyer’s professional expertise and dedication.

Later, during discussions with peers, it was discovered that although this separate trial approach lacks legal backing, it has nonetheless emerged in several provinces. If lawyers fail to firmly challenge this practice now and allow the court to proceed as usual, the outcome of the case may become all too predictable. Often, courts don’t intentionally act "illegally"—instead, when the law remains ambiguous, they might introduce so-called "innovative" measures aimed at meeting higher-level directives or superficially boosting efficiency. But if you don’t voice your concerns, the case could move forward in a confusing and unclear manner. On the other hand, standing firm and raising objections promptly can help correct course in time, ensuring the court conducts the trial strictly according to legal procedures—benefiting both the defendant and the defense.

A few years ago, when we defended an "evil force gang" in Dezhou, Shandong, we encountered a situation where, immediately after the case was reported for arrest, the detention center refused to allow lawyers to meet with their clients—citing concerns that the case involved organized crime and gang-related activities. Local lawyers claimed this was a common practice, nothing unusual or worth challenging, since they believed law enforcement agencies would never grant access anyway. However, we firmly argued that restricting lawyers from meeting with their clients had no legal basis. Moreover, while detainees were already allowed limited visits during their initial criminal detention, there was absolutely no justification for further curtailing these meetings once they were formally arrested. Despite repeated attempts to communicate our concerns—first to the case-handling officers, then to the leadership of the investigating authority, and finally to higher-level police officials—we persisted in demanding the right to continue those crucial client meetings. After numerous rounds of negotiation, the head of the investigative agency eventually agreed to issue a formal letter authorizing the lawyer’s visit. Armed with this letter, we were finally able to meet with our client. Though the process turned out to be somewhat cumbersome—and even though the so-called "approval letter" lacked any legal foundation—it ultimately succeeded in securing access for our team. More importantly, it provided the authorities with a way out of the awkward situation they’d created. Since then, a peculiar phenomenon emerged at the local detention center: among all the high-profile cases involving alleged organized crime or gang activity, only our team managed to gain access to their clients. Meanwhile, lawyers representing other cases continued to face outright denial of meetings. Such breakthroughs in securing client access are not isolated incidents. Time and again, lawyers have found that only through persistent, rational, and lawful advocacy can they effectively challenge unreasonable demands or restrictions imposed by law enforcement agencies. By doing so, lawyers not only protect their clients’ rights but also earn and reinforce their clients’ trust—a vital foundation for successful legal representation. Later on, we carried this same spirit of relentless advocacy into the prosecution review stage and ultimately into court proceedings. As a result, we successfully helped our clients shed the label of being part of an "evil force gang," proving that persistence and principled action can make a real difference in safeguarding both client rights and justice itself.

There’s still much to learn from the art of confrontation, but at its core lies the mastery of strategic engagement. It requires seamlessly blending a tenacious, unwavering spirit with adaptable, flexible approaches—carefully calibrating the "right balance" to identify and pursue the most effective path forward. After all, investigators are like architects building a structure; no matter how meticulously crafted, evidence and procedural frameworks will inevitably contain minor imperfections. In many cases, these flaws may seem unsightly or even slightly inconvenient, though they rarely undermine the overall integrity of the case. On the flip side, lawyers are more like demolition experts—but not just anyone wielding a sledgehammer. We’re not tasked with nitpicking every little detail or obsessing over trivial, unintentional oversights that could easily be corrected. Instead, our focus should remain on identifying and dismantling the critical structural elements: the very beams that prop up this flawed edifice. Once those key supports are removed, the entire building collapses under its own weight. Take, for instance, a high-profile organized-crime trial involving dozens of defendants. During the proceedings, I witnessed a young lawyer relentlessly challenging a forensic report related to an alleged assault. The issue? A house depicted in one of the report’s diagrams simply didn’t exist at the time of the incident. The lawyer argued passionately that this discrepancy invalidated the entire document—and demanded it be excluded as evidence. The court spent what felt like an eternity scrutinizing this point, only to ultimately conclude that all the defendants had voluntarily confessed to the assault, and the location specified in the report was accurate enough to support the charges. Meanwhile, the meticulous young attorney’s insistence on this seemingly minor detail ended up consuming precious courtroom time, diverting attention away from far more significant aspects of the case. By the time the lawyer returned to address other issues later in the trial, his earlier arguments had already lost their impact entirely. This example underscores a crucial lesson: while confrontation is undeniably essential, it must be purposeful and measured. Simply indulging in fruitless debates or fixating on trivialities serves no real purpose—it merely drains judicial resources and distracts from the bigger picture. True advocacy demands precision, clarity, and a laser-focused approach that directly challenges the prosecution’s foundation, ultimately swaying the judge’s decision and advancing the defense’s goals.