Opening the black box between the day you provide an instruction and the day you see a courtroom
Most people experience litigation in two ways: the jolt of the initial demand and the bill that follows a month later. In between, the matter can feel like a sealed container – documents disappear into it and, eventually, a court date pops out. What occupies the intervening weeks and months is less mysterious than it seems. Litigation is a sequence of tasks, each tightly bound to the next, and almost all of them take place long before anyone stands up in a witness box.
Turning a grievance into a case
The first chore is storytelling. Lawyers call it "case theory," but the idea is simple: translate frustration into a legally coherent narrative that a judge can test. That means sifting contracts, emails, minutes, voice notes and spreadsheets for three or four anchor facts that can be proven beyond argument. Anything that does not support or undercut those points is background noise and has to be filed away without letting it derail the story.
Once that skeleton is built, pleadings follow. They are not just forms; they lock in the battlefield. A careless admission or an overlooked defence will haunt the matter months later. Pleadings move in set windows – plaintiff files, defendant replies, plaintiff answers – but each exchange triggers discussion behind the scenes: is the defence genuine or tactical? Does it open room for settlement? Should discovery be narrowed or widened? Every decision here either shortens the road or plants landmines further along it.
Finding, testing, and timing the evidence
Courts run on documents, but documents live messy lives. They are split over cloud drives, archived servers and personal phones. Locating and indexing them is not clerical busywork; it shapes the terrain on which settlement negotiations will occur. Parallel to that document sweep, litigators interview the people who will tell the story in person – checking memory, tone and the capacity to withstand cross-examination.
Where disputes turn on engineering, accounting or valuation, independent experts are briefed. That engagement is part science, part audition. A good expert must understand the technical issue, translate it into courtroom English and, under cross-examination, defend the method with calm authority. The drafting of those reports, and the careful agreement of what the expert will and will not conclude, is high-leverage time; a strong joint minute between opposing experts can close half a case before it reaches a judge.
Shaping momentum outside the courtroom
While evidence is gathered, another track runs: negotiation by increments. Most of it is invisible except in the phrase "without prejudice." Those calls and letters are purpose-built testing grounds—places where ranges are floated, deadlines are softened, and pressure is applied without making statements that can be replayed later in court. At the same time, procedural applications – compelling a tardy opponent to hand over documents, or asking for security for costs – signal seriousness and set practical boundaries.
All of this must dovetail with the court's own calendar. South African rolls are crowded; dates are given on a first-ready, first-served basis. A well-run matter arrives on the registrar's desk with pleadings closed, discovery completed and a clear estimate of trial length. Anything less is likely to be pushed down the list. Trial-readiness is therefore as much about project management as it is about legal merit.
Steering the business conversation
The external rhythm – applications, pleadings, offers – has to be matched by an internal one. Boards want certainty, finance wants budget lines, insurers want updates. Part of a litigator's week is spent translating courtroom developments into business language: "Risk has shifted by this much; reserve this; negotiate that." Those memos and calls rarely appear on a fee note as separate items, yet they prevent the gap that so often opens between legal action and commercial reality.
Bringing it to court or bringing it to a close
By the time a matter reaches trial, most of the real work is already baked in: documents paginated, witnesses rehearsed, questions plotted. Courtroom days are intense but short. Cross-examination decisions – object now, defer, push harder – are taken in seconds, guided by the months of preparation that sit in the background.
And then, frequently, a different kind of conversation happens in the corridor. Faced with the prospect of testimony, costs and publicity, parties reassess risk. Offers travel back and forth, sometimes brokered by the judge, more often through counsel. Settlements struck at this stage look sudden; in reality they are the visible result of a pressure curve built slowly from the first day of pleading.
Why it matters to know all this
When you understand the machinery behind the apparent stillness, invoices feel less like mystery surcharges. You can ask sharper questions, about case theory, evidence gaps, likely expert impact, and you can set more realistic budgets pegged to milestones rather than to a distant trial date. More importantly, you can see settlement as an informed choice, not a capitulation borne of fatigue.
Litigation is slow because fairness demands process, and process demands time. But in that time, your lawyers are shaping narrative, refining evidence, applying pressure and translating risk into choices the business can live with. Seen that way, the invisible parts of the month make more sense because they are the parts that decide whether the final hearing is a formality or a firefight.
The content of this article is intended to provide a general guide to the subject matter. Specialist advice should be sought about your specific circumstances.
