How to Avoid Bias in Paralegal Work

Etevio

I’ve been a paralegal long enough to know this job isn’t just about stacking papers or chasing down case law—it’s about holding up your end of something bigger. You’re the one feeding attorneys the raw stuff they turn into arguments, the one clients lean on when they’re scared or pissed off. But here’s the thing: if you let bias slip in, even a little, you can throw the whole damn machine off track. It’s not always loud and obvious either—sometimes it’s just a quiet hunch you didn’t even know you had, steering you wrong. So let’s talk about it—why it matters, where it hides, and how you keep it from screwing you up.

What Bias Even Looks Like

Bias isn’t one-size-fits-all. There’s the sneaky kind—implicit bias—where you’re sizing up a client or a witness before you’ve even flipped the file open. Maybe it’s how they talk, where they’re from, whatever. You don’t mean to, but it’s there. Then there’s confirmation bias, which I’ve fallen into plenty. You’re digging through LexisNexis, and suddenly you’re only pulling cases that fit what you already think—ignoring the ones that don’t. Selection bias is another mess; you grab the sources that feel comfy instead of the ones that actually cover all the angles. And cultural stuff? Man, that’s a minefield—race, class, gender—it can tilt how you read a statute or talk to someone without you clocking it.

Why It’s a Problem

Mess up here, and it’s not just your day that’s ruined. If your research gets warped, the attorney’s walking into court with a limp. I’ve seen it—shoddy prep leading to a judge tossing something out because it didn’t hold water. Ethically, we’re supposed to be clean slate, no favoritism—it’s in the rules, and bias breaks that. For clients, it’s personal. You half-ass their case because you’ve got some unchecked assumption, and they’re the ones paying for it. Worst case? You’re talking legal blowback—malpractice whispers, cases collapsing. It’s not abstract; it’s real stakes.

How to Dodge It

First, you’ve got to own that you’re not immune. I wasn’t. Still aren’t. I started taking those bias workshops—yeah, they’re awkward, but they make you see shit you didn’t before. Like, “Huh, I do lean that way, don’t I?” You’ve got to poke at your own head sometimes—ask why you’re drawn to one conclusion over another. Talking to people who aren’t your mirror image helps too. Different lives, different lenses—it keeps you from getting too cozy in your own bubble.

Research-wise, I learned to stop winging it. Early on, I’d ride one database like it was gospel—Westlaw mostly. Now I mix it up, cross-check like a paranoid detective. Keeps the blind spots in line. And when you’re writing—summaries, memos, whatever—don’t get cute with it. I used to spice up my language, throw in some flair. Bad move. Stick to plain, straight-arrow words. No “obviously” or “this proves”—just the facts, let the attorney figure out the rest.

Clients are where it gets human. You’re sitting there, they’re spilling their guts, and it’s tempting to judge quick—good guy, bad guy, whatever. Don’t. I’ve had to train myself to just listen, no filter. Doesn’t matter if they’re polished or rough around the edges—give them the same shot. Emotional cases are brutal; you want to play hero sometimes. Can’t. You keep your cool, stay even, or you’re no use to anyone.

Handling case files? Don’t cherry-pick the evidence. I’ve watched paralegals—smart ones—skip over stuff that didn’t fit their gut. You’ve got to wrestle with all of it, even the pieces that don’t line up pretty. I use checklists now—sounds basic, but it forces you to look at everything. And bounce it off someone else—attorney, coworker, whoever. They’ll spot what you’re too buried to notice.

Feedback’s your friend, even when it stings. I used to hate getting notes back—felt like a slap. Now I chase it down: “Hey, does this read straight to you?” Keeps me honest. And I jot down why I did what I did—nothing formal, just enough to cover my ass if someone asks later.

Wrapping It Up

This bias thing—it’s not a one-and-done fix. It’s a habit you build, a muscle you flex every day. You’re in this gig to keep the scales level, not tip them with your own baggage. Stay curious about yourself, stick to the process, and lean on the people around you. That’s how I’ve kept my footing all these years—and trust me, you’ll need it when the cases get heavy.

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