Should Mediators Speak to the Media?

The parents of Adam Lanza, the young man responsible for the Sandy Hook murders, were divorced in 2009, after mediation. After the massacre last December, reporters tracked down the mediator, Paula Levy, and apparently asked her some questions. She was willing to answer them, at least generally. What is a mediator’s obligation to preserve confidentiality under circumstances like this?

AP reporters Matt and Adam Apuzzo posted a story after the shootings, reporting what the mediator said about the mediation involving Nancy and Peter Lanza: that they spent considerable time during the mediation talking about how to provide for their son Adam, then 17, who had been diagnosed with Asperger’s syndrome, that they were in complete agreement on how to address Adam’s needs but said little about the details of his condition. The story continues:

“The only two things I remember them saying is that she really didn’t like to leave him alone and I know they went out of their way to accommodate him,” said Levy, who recalled Nancy and Peter Lanza as very respectful of each other and equally concerned about their son’s needs.  “They worked together about it,” Levy said. “The mom, Nancy, pretty much said she was going to take care of him (Adam) and be there as much as he needed her, even long-term.”
While she would not disclose details of their discussions, Levy wanted to make clear that the Lanzas were loving parents who wanted the best for their son.
“These people are soft-spoken, gentle, both of them saying, ‘What can we do to help him?'” Levy said.

Mediators typically promise parties that the mediation is confidential, and that the mediator will not disclose anything said during the mediation. Assuming that was true in this mediation as well, the mediator believed either that her statements to the media did not breach confidentiality, or that they fell into an exception to the general promise of confidentiality. The mediator drew a line, refusing to disclose certain details, which suggests to me that she must have believed her comments were general enough that they didn’t breach confidentiality.

Standard VII of the Model Standards of Practice for Family and Divorce Mediation states, “A family mediator shall maintain the confidentiality of all information acquired in the mediation process, unless the mediator is permitted or required to reveal the information by law or agreement of the participants.” The confidentiality provision in the Model Standards of Conduct for Mediators is similar, and specifically provides, “A mediator should not communicate to any non-participant information about how the parties acted in the mediation.” (Standard V.A.2.) Ms. Levy is a member of the Association of Conflict Resolution, one of the three organizations that authorized the Model Standards.

There’s no indication that anyone was requiring the mediator to speak; most mediators understand the word “required” to mean that the mediator was subpoenaed to testify. The other exception to the Standard is if the participants agree, but in this case, one of the participants was deceased; does that mean the surviving participant could permit the mediator to speak about both parties? I would like to think that’s what happened here—that the mediator contacted Mr. Lanza and asked whether it was okay for her to speak to reporters, and that the two of them negotiated what she could and could not say. (I contacted the mediator, Paula Levy, but she declined “to discuss this case at this time due to the sensitive nature of the situation.”)

Another way that mediators get around confidentiality is by describing their personal impressions of what occurred, as opposed to repeating party statements. I don’t know whether that truly preserves mediation confidentiality, but in this case, the mediator purportedly quoted statements made by the parties, so she wasn’t trying to rely on this justification either.

I certainly understand why she would want to talk with reporters; she was vindicating herself and her clients by emphasizing that there had been no telltale signs then that Adam was a mass murderer in the making. Did she harm her clients, or do the profession a disservice, by disclosing what was discussed in that mediation? How important is it to maintain confidentiality?

President Obama, Mediator

There was another apology in the news a couple weeks ago: Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu apologized on March 22 to Turkish Premier Recep Tayyip Erdogan for a 2010 raid on a Turkish flotilla that killed 8 Turks.
Any apology is news, but of even more interest to peacemakers is the fact that this was apparently brokered by President Obama. The president was visiting with Mr. Netanyahu in Israel and reported that he encouraged him to reach out to Mr. Erdogan, and “both of us agreed that the time was right.” So Mr. Netanyahu phoned Mr. Erdogan, who accepted the apology. At one point, apparently the President got on the phone too. President Obama said afterwards that he’s been appealing to Mr. Netanyahu and Mr. Erdogan “for the last two years” for them to fix “this rupture.” The event had chilled relations between Israel and Turkey.
I’m impressed. I don’t know the details, but I know how hard it is to persuade someone to apologize. I can only imagine how much tougher it is to get a head of state even to think about apologizing for his military’s actions –as well as to get a head of state to accept an apology where his citizens were killed. Both leaders had multiple justifications for standing their ground, but their rapprochement seems to be in the best interests of both countries.
Wouldn’t we love to know the details of the negotiations?! Did President Obama appeal to their mutual interests, history of alliance, or the cost of continued conflict? Presumably the negotiations were “shuttle diplomacy,” all caucus, but it ended with a simultaneous conversation over which the President more or less presided. Now if he could only have such luck with the Senate and House leaders…

Evaluating Another Public Apology

Helping people make effective apologies is part of being a mediator and conflict coach, so it’s instructive to evaluate apologies. We had another public example this week from former CIA Director General David Petraeus, who began his speech to a group of veterans Tuesday with these prepared words:

“Needless to say, I join you keenly aware that I am regarded in a different light now than I was a year ago. I am also keenly aware that the reason for my recent journey is my own doing. Please allow me to begin my remarks this evening by reiterating how deeply I regret — and apologize for — the circumstances that led to my resignation from the CIA and caused such pain for my family, friends and supporters. I know that I can never fully assuage the pain that I inflicted on those closest to me, and on a number of others. I can, however, try to move forward in a manner that is consistent with the values to which I subscribed before slipping my moorings and, as best as possible, to make amends to those I have hurt and let down.”

A good apology has at least three essential elements: Responsibility, Regret, and Remedy. See, e.g., Beverly Engel, The Power of Apology. (John Wiley & Sons: 2001) pp. 66-68. This apology meets these, although it’s rather vague on the remedy. But somehow this apology leaves me empty: does he really get it?

A more detailed yardstick for measuring effective apologies is Peacemaker Ministries’ “7 A’s of Confession.” He “Addressed everyone involved,” and he “Avoided ‘if,’ ‘but,’ and ‘maybe.’” But he fell a little short on other criteria:
– “Admit specifically” – For what exactly is he apologizing? Does he know what he did wrong? “slipping my moorings” is a great metaphor, but how did that happen? Until he gets to the root of it, how can we be sure it won’t happen again?
– “Acknowledge the hurt” – Does he fully understand the impact of his transgression? Speaking to veterans, he might have acknowledged tarnishing the military’s reputation. One commentator, Robin Abcarian of the LA times, points out that another consequence is reinforcement of the perception that a man and woman cannot work together platonically.
– “Alter behavior” – What exactly is he going to do to make sure this doesn’t happen again? Obviously, “trying… to” behave “consistent with the values to which I subscribed before” wasn’t enough in the past, so what’s different now?

His is actually better than most public apologies, and he doesn’t owe the public the same level of detail that he owes his family. This is rather a lesson in how to construct an effective apology that truly will bring healing after offense.

Guns in Mediation

The nightmare that mediators have long dreaded has come true: a mediation party pulled out a gun this week and shot the other party at the close of a mediation. The parties had a contract dispute, and the plaintiff, a man named Arthur Harmon, had sued the defendant, Steven Singer, for $17,000. The mediation took place at the court-appointed mediator’s law firm in Phoenix; the plaintiff was not represented, but the defendant was. At some point the plaintiff reportedly said he needed to go get something from his car; after a prolonged wait, the others assumed he was not coming back. The defendant and his attorney, Mark Hummels, headed downstairs and were in the lobby when the plaintiff appeared and shot them both. The defendant was killed instantly, his attorney died later, and another bystander was injured. The shooter escaped in his car, and subsequently was found several miles away, dead in his car of a gunshot wound.

Mediations are stressful. The parties are by definition in high conflict—if not, they wouldn’t need a mediator’s help to resolve their dispute. Mediators have many techniques to reduce tension, but most of us have stories of a party who was overwhelmed by the stress, such that the mediation could not continue. In America, people who feel stressed often turn to guns, so mediators have long worried about how to prevent a party from bringing in—or using—a weapon in mediation.

One option is to screen parties ahead of time for the presence of domestic violence. This is standard protocol for divorce and domestic relations cases, but virtually unheard of in a business case. Michigan’s new Mediator Standards of Conduct recommend that efforts be made “throughout the mediation process to screen for the presence of an impediment that would make mediation physically…unsafe for any participant.” (Standard VI.A.) In other words, the mediator should be on alert for any hint that a party is getting angry enough to physically harm the other party—or the mediator. However, in this case, the angry party left—which is an acceptable option for someone who can’t restrain their emotions. Whether the mediator could have detected that this party was angry enough to return and shoot the other party is hard to imagine.

Another option is to hold the mediation in a facility with a metal detector, e.g., a courthouse. This is standard practice in Michigan when mediating cases where one party has taken out a personal protection order against the other party. One of my colleagues has mediated two family probate cases recently where she learned about gun concerns during pre-mediation conversations with the parties, and as a result opted to hold the mediations in local courthouses.

It’s impractical to hold all mediations in courthouses, so which ones are “safe enough” to hold in an attorney’s office? The Phoenix case was a simple business case and didn’t involve a large sum of money. According to court records, the defendant had hired the plaintiff to refurbish and move office furniture at the defendant’s business, but not all of the work was completed, so the defendant paid only $30,000 of the $47,000 contract, and the plaintiff sued for the balance. There is no indication that the parties had any relationship other than this contractual one. If there was ever a case that would not require pre-mediation violence screening, or extra security precautions, this was it.

We also don’t want to err on the other side, and call the police or end the mediation every time a mediation party expresses outrage. So, in the end, we cannot prevent tragedies like this. We can be more vigilant, and more aware of our options, but what this story reminds me is that the best thing I can do as a mediator is pray.

Learning About Mediation from Being a Participant

I had a unique mediation opportunity to last week: I was a participant (defense attorney) in a mediation. Here are eight things I learned about mediation:

1. It can be useful for the mediator to meet with the attorneys just before the start of the mediation. This gave the mediator an opportunity to hear each attorney’s argument, and hoped-for outcome. As a mediator, I may meet with the attorneys together, apart from their clients, at some point during the mediation, but I rarely meet together with all attorneys prior to the mediation. In this case, I had never met or spoken with opposing counsel (my discussions had all been with his partner) so it was helpful to meet him beforehand.

2. The mediator’s personal stories can be very helpful. In keeping with neutrality, it’s generally not advisable for the mediator to describe personal experiences related to the topics at hand, so I rarely do when I mediate. But our mediator shared a couple family stories, as well as a couple litigation stories, that were timely and on-point. Since the parties in our case were strangers, this humanized the process for all of us.

3. It made me anxious when the mediator began asking questions of my client in joint session. As a mediator, I usually ask the attorney’s permission before questioning their client, and our mediator did too—but I was still on edge, worried that my client would inadvertently undermine our mediation strategy, or cave in altogether. My take-away from this as a mediator is to be cautious about going too far with client questions during the joint session, be certain that these questions need to be answered in joint session rather than in caucus, and to be on high alert for cues from the attorney regarding the limit.

4. As an attorney, I really wanted to hear our mediator’s opinion about the strength of our case, since he’s a seasoned litigator. In the facilitative model of mediation, the mediator eschews any party attempts to get the mediator to share a personal opinion regarding the outcome of the mediation. In this case, I knew that our mediator had more experience in the subject-matter of our case than I did, and I truly wanted to hear his opinion – and he was not shy in offering it, which I found affirming.

5. The mediator needs to help each side negotiate. I already know this, but I sensed it in a different way as an advocate. In caucus, I asked the mediator to see if he could get the plaintiff to lower their price, but I didn’t provide a reason for them to do so. The mediator came back with a lower figure, tied to an apology from the defendant. I agreed, but I was also chagrined, because I’m a big proponent of apology in mediation—I train and teach about it all the time, and yet here it never crossed my mind!

6. Commend people for their good work. When the mediator commended the attorneys at the end of the mediation, for arguing strongly but never personally, it felt good. I like to commend everyone at the end of the mediation for cooperating and treating one another well, but I don’t always remember; now that I know how good it feels to hear that, I will make an extra effort to include this in my mediations.

7. The mediator needs to remember stuff the attorneys forget. None of us thought to talk about what should happen with the lawsuit because we were focused on other details of the agreement. It was only after the agreement was signed and copied that opposing counsel mentioned the lawsuit. I wish the mediator had raised this topic while we were negotiating other agreement terms.

8. Take the time necessary to draft a good agreement. We were rushed at the end, due to an agreed-to deadline, so the mediator drafted the agreement while the attorneys were still negotiating the details. The mediator included a provision obligating my client to do something that we had discussed, but that is legally unenforceable. I chose not to make an issue of it, which would have delayed the process, but in retrospect I should’ve spoken up.

What made this mediation especially interesting is that I “trained” this mediator, meaning that he went through our 40-hour course, even though he already knew how to mediate. He definitely did not follow our training model–and he did a great job.