I Became a Law School Genius

Chapter 54

『 Translator – Divinity 』

“We would like to take the prosecution side.”

“The defense side.”

The procedure to decide each team’s role.

As we had discussed beforehand, we chose the prosecution, and Gu Min-hwan declared that he would defend the defendant.

‘Unexpected… well, not really.’

Although different from what I had in mind, it wasn’t a strange choice for Gu Min-hwan.

Gu Min-hwan was someone who made a living through investigative practice.

He had been specializing in collecting and organizing evidence and then submitting reports to the prosecutor, saying, “Please indict this guy.”

Therefore, choosing the defense side, where he could actively raise objections and challenge the prosecution, was a way to utilize his strengths.

Indeed, in the legal field, lawyers who graduated from the Police University and had experience leading investigation teams were highly sought after and scouted by many.

They were experts who could meticulously delve into procedural issues and the establishment of facts.

What we were doing now was like a rehearsal for that.

‘It’s actually better for me. I was planning to take the prosecution side anyway.’

Although there were quite a few points that the defense could utilize, in this case, the prosecution side was still better.

“Then, the team of Park Yoo-seung, Han Seol, and Lee Ha-ru will be the prosecution. The team of Gu Min-hwan, Lee Yoon-ah, and Jo Hyun-min will be the defense. Any objections?”

After the roles were assigned, we returned to our team’s waiting room.

Now it was time to construct our arguments and briefs.

“Let’s look at the first issue.”

I plopped down on my seat.

“The first issue… is whether the euthanasia in this case is ‘permissible’, that is, whether it’s lawful euthanasia, right?”

“That’s right.”

I nodded at Han Seol’s question.

The best outcome a defense attorney can achieve in a criminal trial is an acquittal.

In other words, it was also the worst possible outcome from our perspective.

There were only two ways for a defendant to be acquitted in a Korean criminal trial.

Either they didn’t commit the crime in the first place, or there was insufficient evidence.

Article 325 of the Criminal Procedure Act (Judgment of Acquittal): When the accused’s act does not constitute a crime or there is no proof of the facts of the crime, the court shall render a judgment of acquittal.

Most acquittals in real trials fall under the latter part of Article 325, that is, lack of proof.

Prosecutors in Korea are a highly competent group.

They don’t even indict a case unless it seems like a sure win.

The reason why the conviction rate in criminal trials is as high as 96.7% lies in that.

Moreover, it’s extremely rare to indict and bring to trial a case that isn’t even a crime in the first place.

But with cases like euthanasia, where there is intense debate about whether it constitutes a ‘crime’ or a subject of judgment, things are different.

“Han Seol, what are the criteria for permissible euthanasia established by the Supreme Court precedents?”

“Well, let’s see… One, ‘a patient in an irreversible stage of death’. Two, ‘cases where it is recognized that the patient is exercising their right to self-determination based on human dignity and value, and the right to pursue happiness’.”

Indeed. As if she had memorized it, the answer came out immediately.

“But,”

Lee Ha-ru suddenly asked,

“What does it mean that ‘it is recognized that the patient is exercising their right to self-determination’?”

“Ah, the wording is a bit ambiguous, isn’t it?”

“It’s more than ambiguous, it’s nonsensical. Most patients receiving life-sustaining treatment are unconscious, in a vegetative state, or brain-dead. What does it even mean for such a patient to ‘exercise’ their right to self-determination?”

Lee Ha-ru’s point was valid.

This precedent was stating something that seemed right.

All humans have the right to pursue happiness.

They also have the right to self-determination, to freely design their own lives.

Therefore, in a situation where there is no possibility of recovery and life is being meaninglessly prolonged, let’s recognize the patient’s right to give up their life for the sake of their dignity.

The problem was that it only sounded right.

With a little thought, you could immediately sense the strangeness.

How can a person lying unconscious in a hospital bed possibly exercise such a right and make ‘decisions’ about their own life?

“That’s why the precedent uses the concept of ‘presumed intent’.”

The patient’s age. Their usual attitude towards life. What they have said to those around them. Their religious beliefs or values. Their reactions when seeing others in similar situations.

If, after comprehensively considering all these circumstances, it can be presumed that ‘this person would not want to continue life-sustaining treatment in this situation’, then it is considered that the patient themselves exercised their right to self-determination.

It was the same in the Grandma Kim case, which was the basis for this problem.

Grandma Kim had repeatedly said that when her death approached, she wanted to leave this world peacefully instead of prolonging her life and burdening those around her, and that if she were to become bedridden, she wouldn’t want to be kept alive by machines.

The fact that she had refused a tracheotomy, which could have prolonged her husband’s life by a few days when he died a few years ago, was also recognized as strong evidence.

The Supreme Court judged that Grandma Kim’s consistent values would have leaned towards a dignified death rather than a hopeless and painful extension of life.

“Hmm…”

My explanation seemed to leave Lee Ha-ru with a confused expression.

“Is a person’s heart something you can easily presume? Even if they said that usually, when faced with their own death, they might become scared and want to live.”

“That’s a valid point.”

I nodded.

“That’s why the burden on the judge’s shoulders is heavy.”

As long as humans judge humans, it’s impossible to eliminate the possibility of error.

We are not omnipotent gods.

But we can minimize errors and ensure that all procedures are conducted fairly, so that at least the outcome is acceptable.

Allowing a person to be tried three times for one case, through the first trial, the second trial, and the Supreme Court appeal.

Restricting qualifications and managing them so that only those who have been selected, educated, and experienced through an incredibly demanding process can sit on the judge’s bench.

All of these are institutional measures to compensate for the imperfections of human judgment.

Naturally, the judges standing at the forefront of this have to bear the heaviest responsibility.

“Well, that’s the general principle, but…”

I clapped my hands to draw their attention.

“Anyway, Lee Ha-ru’s point is something we can use as well. Let’s look at it in relation to this case. Since the other side has to lead to the conclusion that euthanasia is legal, they’ll argue that ‘it can be presumed that A did not want to receive life-sustaining treatment’, right? Then we gather evidence to the contrary.”

At my signal, we began to search through the evidence documents again.

“Hmm… just looking at this, it does seem like A didn’t have much attachment to life.”

Han Seol picked up a document and handed it to me.

[Testimony of Kim Gab-dong’s wife, C]

My father-in-law was already a man living on borrowed time.

Even when he was sober, he would often say things like, ‘I should die, I’m an old part discarded after being used up by society’, and even when drunk, he would deliberately pick fights with gangsters or wander into dangerous places.

When he was drunk and assaulting my husband and me, he would hurl insults like, ‘You’re only keeping me alive because you want to get the insurance money and inheritance after I die, do you think I’m a fool? Just kill me now’… (omitted)…

“They said that A was an elderly man who lost his job and became unemployed. Perhaps the setting is that he was despairing over the fact that no one needed him anymore.”

“Sorry. I wasted time finding evidence that only strengthens the opponent’s argument.”

“No, it’s also important to understand the enemy’s weapons. You did well.”

If Gu Min-hwan wanted to argue for the legality of euthanasia, he would definitely bring up this testimony. Because it would be strong evidence that A didn’t want to live anymore.

But it wasn’t perfect proof.

“Even though it seems clear that A was disillusioned with life… can we be sure that it necessarily translates to a desire to refuse life-sustaining treatment?”

Let’s consider what Lee Ha-ru said earlier.

She said that even someone who had expressed negative views on life-sustaining treatment might become scared and want to receive treatment when faced with their own death.

It was a valid point.

In the Grandma Kim case, the doctor’s presumption was accepted because there were two important pieces of circumstantial evidence.

One was that she was a devout Christian with firm beliefs about death.

The other was that she had already refused a tracheotomy, which was similar to life-sustaining treatment, when her beloved husband died.

They don’t easily presume a patient’s wishes based on just a few words they said while alive.

Even in the Grandma Kim case, if those circumstances hadn’t existed, the discontinuation of life support wouldn’t have been recognized as an ‘exercise of the right to self-determination’.

Moreover, simply feeling disillusioned with life, while it could be a reference, wasn’t sufficient proof.

In the first place, A was someone who, despite claiming that he should die, didn’t have the courage to actually attempt suicide.

If the word ‘courage’ is inappropriate, we could rephrase it to say that he wasn’t truly serious about wanting to die.

The important thing is that it’s difficult to be certain that A wanted life support to be discontinued.

“The possibility of recovery is also a problem.”

I rummaged through the stack of documents and pulled out a sheet.

“Oh, that’s…”

“Remember? It’s the doctor’s opinion we saw earlier.”

[Medical Opinion]

[Dr. K, Medical Record Examiner at Hospital C]

…(omitted)… Therefore, although the patient has spontaneous breathing, considering the state of the cerebral cortex and cerebellum damage, it is reasonable to assume that the possibility of the patient regaining consciousness is only about 20%… (omitted)…

‘What kind of doctor writes like this?’

The sentences describing the symptoms in the earlier part of the report weren’t like this, but the conclusion of this medical opinion was clearly written in a tone that a legal professional would use.

Expressions like ‘therefore’ and ‘it is reasonable to assume’ were typically used in precedents and legal documents.

If it was deliberately rewritten, there must have been a reason.

“What was the percentage used as the standard for recognizing the impossibility of recovery in the Grandma Kim case?”

“Wait a minute, I’ll look it up… Looking at the precedent and the facts, the attending physician said the possibility of regaining consciousness was less than 5%, and the examiners simply said there was almost no possibility of recovery and that she was close to brain death.”

“As expected.”

20% was too high to be considered impossible to recover from.

To put it bluntly, even with online games, where the gacha rates are much lower, like 2% or 3%, there are people who pour in hundreds of millions of won, saying it’s worth trying.

This is a grave decision that takes a human life.

When considering the conditions to justify euthanasia, the court is incredibly strict and conservative.

Unless it’s a case where anyone can see without a doubt that this person can’t live anymore, that they would rather die, it’s very rare for them to acknowledge its legitimacy.

“Alright, we can rule out the possibility of getting an acquittal with lawful euthanasia.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

If it wasn’t justifiable euthanasia, it was a clear crime.

What remained was to determine the type and form of the crime and solidly construct the arguments to support it.

“But,”

At that moment, Lee Ha-ru, who had been focused on her laptop instead of the documents, suddenly raised her hand.

“What is this?”