We are exhorted to start strong—and to end strong. Beginnings and endings—these we are advised must be practiced and perfected. We are told of the importance of primacy and recency. We are urged to make a good—no, excellent—first and last impression. These things we know. But what about the center—that vast uncharted territory between start and finish? No one talks about the center. It’s taken for granted, it’s assumed the center will take care of itself. But the center requires just as much attention, if not more.
The center is where the most interesting things take place. In any narrative, while the first paragraphs are important, it’s the remaining chapters which tell the story, pull us along. When each chapter is compelling, when there’s some degree of forward-directed unity and coherence, then the story works. In a legal argument, the gist is always on the most basic points, those least subject to contradiction or after-the-fact explanation. Some significant effort is required to squeeze the sponge of every last drop—and to keep in mind that an “interesting” thing is that which is capable of drawing and holding attention.
The center is where the great discoveries are made. Any epic journey requires sustained observation and vigilance, and such a heightened degree of watchfulness can lead to undiscovered ranges and escarpments. Discovery sometimes can be willed into existence, but often the greatest breakthroughs are stumbled upon, fortuitous accidents, chance encounters found along a stretch of empty highway. And it’s the center not the periphery, after miles of travel, where these can be found.
The center is the reason why there’s a beginning and ending. A beginning comes before and an ending comes after—and each takes on meaning and significance due entirely to that which they encompass. A beginning would mean nothing without that which follows, just as an ending would be without significance without that which has come before. The center fills and substantiates each. It’s the center upon which the soundings, measurements, and evaluations are made. It’s the center which creates a narrative, tells a story. And it’s the center which defines a life.
“Nature is an infinite sphere of which the center is everywhere and the circumference nowhere,” wrote Pascal. In a legal context, what this suggests is that arguments which succeed in one case will not necessarily carry the day in another. It’s therefore probably best not to take a too restrictive view of where the center can be found, or to come to predetermined judgments about its size, shape, or dimensions. The center doesn’t necessarily have to fit within the patterns formed by someone else’s preconceived notions. Its narrative can be entirely of one’s own making—and most often is.
