Permission to Fail
Reclaiming the Role of Courage in Advocacy
Failure is one of the most feared words in the courtroom—and in life. Lawyers fear losing cases. Witnesses fear saying the wrong thing. Jurors fear making the wrong decision. Yet beneath all this fear lies a deeper truth: failing is not the same as being a failure. As Lauren Fleshman reminds us, “When you recognize that failing doesn’t make you a failure, you give yourself permission to try all sorts of things.”
This insight is not abstract. It speaks directly to the daily work of advocacy. Trials are unpredictable. A witness may falter, a ruling may go against you, a juror may turn unexpectedly cold. These are failures of outcome, but they do not define the advocate or the client as failures of identity. The danger lies not in the failing itself, but in allowing the fear of failing to paralyze the attempt.
Neuroscience confirms this distinction. When mistakes are framed as catastrophic, the brain narrows into survival mode, shrinking creativity and flexibility. But when errors are framed as information—feedback for growth—the brain engages its learning circuits. Mistakes literally become fuel for neuroplasticity. To fail openly is to expand possibility.
Moreno saw this clearly in psychodrama. He called on people to step into surplus reality, to try roles they had never dared to play, knowing some experiments would falter. But those falterings were not failure—they were explorations. In role theory, failure is a temporary role that teaches the self something new. The self emerges not from perfection, but from trying, faltering, and trying again.
Sociometry strengthens the case: when someone admits failure, others often choose them more readily. Authenticity attracts. Jurors lean toward witnesses who stumble yet keep going because the stumble humanizes them. The lawyer who acknowledges imperfection builds trust. In contrast, the lawyer who hides mistakes loses credibility. BTC insists on this truth: stories are not defined by flawless arcs. They are defined by protagonists who risk, falter, and rise again.
Didactic Section
1. Failure as Event, Not Identity
Failing is something that happens. Being a failure is an identity claim. The two are not the same. Separating them allows lawyers and clients to face mistakes without collapsing into shame.
2. The Neuroscience of Mistakes
Errors activate the brain’s error-detection systems, lighting up pathways that, when engaged reflectively, lead to growth. Jurors unconsciously resonate with people who keep trying, because persistence signals resilience.
3. Role Theory and the Role of Failure
Failure is a role. It has function and meaning. It teaches humility, recalibration, and courage. When integrated into the role repertoire, failure opens new pathways for action. When denied, it calcifies into shame.
4. Sociometry and Authentic Connection
Jurors and colleagues are drawn to authenticity. When lawyers or witnesses try to hide mistakes, tele breaks down. When they admit them honestly, sociometric connections deepen. Failing openly becomes a bridge.
5. BTC and Storytelling Through Rupture
Every story spine has rupture. The protagonist falters. But the faltering is not failure. It is the necessary turning point that drives transformation. In advocacy, telling the truth about the stumble gives the jury permission to trust the storyteller.
The 5 W’s of Failure as Identity
Who
The people who wrestle with the meaning of failure are everywhere in the courtroom. The lawyer who fears stumbling over a word and losing credibility. The witness who fears a shaky answer will erase their truth. The juror who fears making the wrong choice and carrying that regret forever. Each of these figures carries a relationship to failure that shapes how they listen, speak, and decide. But they are not alone—failure belongs to all of us. It is universal. The “who” is the collective body of advocates, clients, and jurors, each asked to risk being human in public. Recognizing that failing does not make anyone a failure frees each role to act with courage rather than paralysis.
What
The “what” is the redefinition of failure itself. Failure is not identity—it is an event, an outcome, a moment of rupture in the story spine. The danger lies not in the stumble, but in the meaning attached to it. If failure is equated with being a failure, then shame takes root and stops growth. If failure is reframed as information, a teacher, or a role among many, then freedom emerges. What matters is shifting the story: from “I am a failure” to “I failed, and because of that, I learned, I tried again, I transformed.” The “what” is nothing less than the reclaiming of narrative power.
When
The “when” is most visible in high-stakes moments, when the weight of expectation presses down. In trial, it might be when a witness cracks under cross-examination, when an objection is sustained in front of the jury, or when a closing argument lands flat. In life, it might be in a broken relationship, a missed opportunity, or an unrealized dream. The timing of failure often feels catastrophic, but it is also catalytic. The “when” is not an ending—it is a hinge point. It is the very moment that invites transformation if we are willing to treat it as part of the arc, not the final curtain.
Where
The “where” of failure lives both internally and externally. Externally, failure is public—it unfolds in the courtroom, in front of jurors, colleagues, and opponents. Internally, it is private—it lives in the tightening of the chest, the rush of heat in the face, the loop of self-criticism in the mind. These two theaters interact. A lawyer may appear composed while their body rages with shame. A witness may falter in words but radiate courage through persistence. By attending to both the external stage and the internal stage, advocates can locate failure in space and shift it from a place of collapse to a place of re-entry.
Why
The “why” is the most liberating truth: because failure is necessary for growth. Neuroscience shows that errors spark learning loops; psychodrama shows that trying new roles means risking falter; storytelling shows that rupture is what drives transformation. Without the risk of failure, there is no expansion, no role development, no narrative arc. The “why” is not to glorify failing, but to release its grip as identity. We need failure because it gives birth to resilience, creativity, and authenticity. In advocacy, embracing the “why” means jurors see not perfection, but humanity—and humanity is what they trust.
Demo-Action
Workshop Exercise: The Failure Role Reversal
In a BTC training, place one chair as “The Failure.” Invite a lawyer to sit in it and speak: “I failed when…” Then role reverse. From the role of Failure, speak back: “I am not who you are, I am what happened to you.” The separation of role from identity becomes visible.
Mock Trial Exercise: The Falter and Rise
During a mock trial, instruct a witness to deliberately falter mid-answer. Then coach them to acknowledge the falter—“I’m nervous, but I want to be clear”—and continue. Debrief with jurors: did the falter decrease or increase trust? Almost always, authenticity wins.
Conclusion
Failure is not identity. It is role, event, and teacher. The courtroom, like life, is filled with rupture. But jurors, colleagues, and communities do not seek perfection. They seek authenticity, courage, and persistence. When we acknowledge that failing does not make us failures, we liberate ourselves to try—and to keep trying.
BTC insists that rupture is not the end of the story. It is the necessary gateway to transformation. By integrating failure into the story spine, we show jurors that humanity itself is trustworthy. “When you recognize that failing doesn’t make you a failure, you give yourself permission to try all sorts of things.” This is not just permission. It is the foundation of courage, connection, and justice.
References
Fleshman, L. (2013). Believe in the Run: Reflections on Racing and Resilience.
Moreno, J. L. (1953). Psychodrama: Volume 1. Beacon House.
Moreno, J. L. (1946). Who Shall Survive? Beacon House.
Siegel, D. J. (2012). The Developing Mind. Guilford Press.
Johnson, L. E. (2025). Building The Case: Storytelling When Facts Are Fixed and Stakes Are High. Trial Whisperer Press.

