My first day at law school felt like a contest of pretentiousness, with nearly everyone eager to prove that they were ready to graduate yesterday. During orientation, my peers boasted about their summers, whether working with a human rights NGO, serving in the legal departments of major corporations, or pre-law interning at prestigious firms.
Wait, what? Already? We haven’t even cracked open a textbook! Meanwhile, I’d spent my summer waitressing and bartending on Crescent Street. And I loved it.
I then spent the next three years in mental agony trying to wrap my head around legal concepts. Everything seemed so mysterious. Consider, for instance, the principle of praesumptio innocentiae, which mandates establishing an accused party’s guilt through incontrovertible evidence. Additionally, under the sacred doctrine of nullum crimen sine lege, the catalog of prosecutable offenses must be established before any act is committed, upholding the maxim that the law does not operate ex post facto.
Sounds complicated, right? Sure, if you say it like Shakespeare, which law people love to do. But if you say it like a normal person, it just means that everyone is considered innocent until proven guilty, and that you can’t be punished for doing something before it was made illegal.
It eventually became clear to me that most of law is just basic notions dressed in very fancy wigs and clothes. By couching the mundane in such lofty terms, legal professionals could hold a monopoly (and make a lot of money) on the administration of justice, which is fundamentally supposed to be accessible to all. And while some of my fellow classmates evidently reveled in the pomp and opacity of legalese, I found it wildly annoying and wondered if anyone even understood half of what anyone else was saying.
Imagine, for instance, if I stood up in a courtroom to plead:
“Your Honours, it is imperative to declare, under the sacrosanct precepts of jus commune, that one finds oneself in a state of urinae braccae, whereby the garments of the lower torso are unceremoniously baptized in the aqueous solutions of one’s own corporeal making. This condition precipitates a jurisprudential inquiry under the aegis of lex ludicra, mandating a forensically scrupulous examination of the accidental ablution pursuant to statuta ridicula, whence the robes of justice themselves might metaphorically ripple with mirthful undulations.”
How long do you think it would have taken someone to figure out what I just said is that I accidentally peed my pants?
Since law school, I’ve had to wade through enough intellectual garbage to know that the razzle dazzle—the flashy, the ostentatious and unnecessarily complex—is not just annoying anymore, it can be dangerously misleading. There’s a disturbing trend across various facets of society, where the obsession with how things appear dramatically overshadows what they mean or deliver. It’s like Richard Gere sang in Chicago (the Musical): “How can they see with sequins in their eyes?”
I once worked with an organization eager to publish a high-profile report on Azerbaijan’s crimes against Armenians. Despite the absolute importance of thoroughness and accuracy, they rushed to release a document that was effectively a shoddy draft filled with information but lacking essential legal elements and analysis. It was nevertheless released to much fanfare and celebrated widely on Armenian social media, but those with a discerning eye—particularly among the target international legal expert audience—could see it was deeply flawed. It was so problematic that I had to resign to maintain my professional integrity.
This fixation on form over substance has severe implications for the quality of our lives. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok are all about racking up likes and follows, often valuing swanky visuals way more than actual content. Everyone is pressured to show only the best parts of their lives, a polished version of reality, shoving the sometimes-messy parts aside. Even places like Twitter/X and LinkedIn are becoming less about substantive exchanges of ideas and more about who’s the most controversial or has the best infographics. Here, content that is critical, well-researched, and insightful often gets drowned out by posts that are verbally provocative or visually appealing yet intellectually empty.
In politics, the razzle dazzle manifests through charismatic campaigning and headline-grabbing sound bites that often overshadow serious policy discussions. Political debates are reduced to who delivers the catchier one-liner rather than who proposes the more sound policy solution. This trend is dangerous as it sways public opinion based on performance rather than on potential impact, leading to elected officials who are less competent in governance but more skilled in the art of public relations stunts.
Even personal relationships are affected. There’s an alarming, growing push for picture-perfect moments that get social media likes, often at the expense of deeper, more meaningful connections. This can create relationships that are more about admiring each other’s curated personas than really getting to know one another and accepting each other’s quirks.
We no longer take the time to scrutinize the things we let into our hearts, minds, or homes. As long as it’s pretty, catchy, or shiny, we assume it must be good. Of course, you can encrust a turd with diamonds all you want—it’ll definitely sparkle. But underneath, it’s still just a piece of shit.
In embracing the spirit of “Unleashed,” let’s commit to cutting through the superficial glitz. This means not just focusing on how things are said but what is actually being said. It means freeing ourselves from the spectacle and demanding honesty from our leaders and from each other. It means advocating for clear, straightforward communication at every opportunity, stripping away the unnecessary jargon that makes understanding and accessibility—of law and other professions—so elusive.
And most importantly, true liberation comes from being completely, authentically ourselves—flaws and all. It’s about valuing real experiences and connections, stepping back from the glittering façade to appreciate the value that lies beneath and within. Let’s not be fooled by the razzle dazzle anymore.
See all [Unleashed] articles here
Listen to Sheila’s personal reading of “Razzle Dazzle”.
Sheila Paylan is an international human rights lawyer and former legal advisor to the United Nations. Now based in Yerevan, she regularly consults for a variety of international organizations, NGOs, think tanks, and governments.
