Imagine this: You were diagnosed with cancer, and the only treatment will result in your infertility. But you do it anyway, because having a child could be your spouse’s only hope for a do-over in life (following a tragic accident which disfigured her face). With trust in the science, you deposit your sperm cells in a fertility clinic. You hope that after healing, the clinic can begin the process of in vitro fertilization (IVF). And, somehow, everything lands perfectly—despite the troubles along the way—you will be gifted with your first-born, and your wife will find hope in life again.

But the clinic calls you and tells you that your sperm cells have been destroyed after an accident in the clinic. Suddenly, your planned familial life is gone. No more child. Worse, your spouse’s hopes vanished, too. As for you, you no longer have anything to lose. Revenge is the only thing in your head. So, you head to the fertility clinic to confront them, to ask a simple question: what happened? In the process of demonstrating your anger, you destroyed a multi-million equipment of the clinic. Security personnel tackled you. After that burst of anger, you now find yourself facing several criminal complaints and a civil lawsuit for damages.

Such is a situation that Park Gi-beom found himself in the Episode 2 of “Beyond the Bar.” Gi-beom is represented by Yullim Law Firm. During the intake interview, Yoon Seok-hoon (head of litigation) acknowledged that Gi-beom’s case was difficult as the facts were stacked against them. Nevertheless, the firm took Gi-beom in and represented him. The clinic’s claim against Gi-beom was ₩423 million. Yullim’s strategy was to mount a counterclaim against the fertility clinic for the destruction of Gi-beom’s sperm cells—for ₩500 million. Yullim, however, found itself in a difficult conundrum: How will they convince the judges that Gi-beom’s sperm cells were worth ₩500 million?

For this paper, I will focus on three situations where ethics may come into play: the potential conflict of interest of Yullim, the client interview on Gi-beom, and the surprise media coverage of Gi-beom’s trial.

I

Seok-hoon was told that the firm’s executives were looking at the case with interest because the fertility clinic used to be Yullim’s corporate client. However, because Yullim withdrew from one particular case (over some ethical considerations), the clinic has since started spreading rumors against Yullim. In fact, the dialogue mentioned that one of the partners, Mr. Ko, has been out for revenge.

I believe that upon knowing this conflict of interest, Yullim should have desisted from representing Gi-beom at once. If, indeed, they had previously withdrawn from representing the clinic due to ethical considerations, I am sure that they can do so again now. We know the dangers of this situation. In Hilado v. David, the Supreme Court explained that the prohibition on conflict-of-interest and the duty of confidentiality persist even after the termination of the attorney-client relationship as it may cause the passing of confidential information from the previous client to the new (opposing) client.

What is even more appalling is the fact that the higher-ups of the firm specifically asked its lawyers to take on the case as a revenge against the clinic. Surely, the ends of justice will not be served well if the counsel’s motivation is to inflict damage against the opposing party, and not to provide competent service to its own client.

Thus, I believe that the only thing for Yullim to do was to refrain from accepting Gi-beom as its client.

II

Seok-hoon found it appropriate to dig deeper into Gi-boem’s motivations. Thus, he asked a young, female and newly hired lawyer, Kang Hyo-min, to interview their client. Gi-beom, however, refused to be interviewed by Hyo-min because she is a woman.

I understand where Gi-beom is coming from. The subject matter of his counterclaim was essentially about his fertility and sperm cells—topics which he may find difficult discussing with a member of the opposite sex. Thus, Hyo-min yielded and passed the task to a male colleague. Seok-hoon was quick to call out Hyo-min for giving up so easily, and not defending herself from Gi-beom.

On this point, I would agree with the course of action taken by Hyo-min. Gi-beom’s request was not entirely baseless. For one, lawyers should be aware of prevailing societal norms—no matter how erroneous or backward they may be. At the end of the day, what lawyers strive to give is competent legal service. We must be reminded that clients come to lawyers when they are at a grave peril. Often, they are facing a possible deprivation of liberty or property (both, in Gi-beom’s case). Thus, it would be inappropriate to grandstand values that Seok-hoon wanted to do. Gi-beom didn’t need a gender sensitivity training at that moment.

Moreover, it would benefit the firm if Gi-beom will be able to tell his story more comfortably, in accordance with his request. Relevant to this discussion is the Code of Professional Responsibility’s (CPRA) mandate to create safe environments. I also remembered one of the trainings I had with the Ateneo Human Rights Center on trauma-informed interviews. It is a cardinal rule that whenever we are interviewing clients, we should eliminate all possible sources of triggers. Thus, it may be unacceptable for a male interviewer to interview a female survivor of sexual abuse. Conversely, the reverse may be true in Gi-beom’s case. Fortunately, Hyo-min was able to have her own conversation with Gi-beom later on in the episode.

III

During trial, Seok-hoon was able to deliver his main legal argument—that their counterclaim of ₩500 million represents the damages inflicted upon Gi-beom’s because he will now grapple with the reality that he will no longer have a biological offspring due to the clinic’s negligence. However, what caught my attention was the fact that Yullim invited a journalist inside the court room.

The counsel for the clinic noticed the press’s presence, too. The fertility clinic was well aware of the bad publicity, in case news spreads that it lost a multi-million case. The fertility clinic was in the process of expanding and attracting investors.

Eventually, Seok-hoon hinted that he invited the press. It is worth noting, however, that the press wasn’t there to influence the judges nor to prejudice the trial. It was a move by Yullim to give it another bargaining chip, hoping that they would be able to convince the clinic to just settle the case and withdraw the complaint against Gi-beom. It worked. Soon, the clinic agreed to withdraw the complaint against Gi-beom.

While I find Seok-hoon’s strategy dubious, I am conflicted of the propriety of such a move. On one hand, trials are necessarily public (there were members of the public inside the court room). Thus, the information regarding the clinic’s complaint would’ve leaked to the world anyway. Seok-hoon merely used the opportunity to strengthen its bargaining position.

On the other hand, purposefully inviting the press as a tactic risks weaponizing public opinion to coerce the clinic. Worse, Seok-hoon sought his goals through fear of reputational harm rather than the merits of the case. Even if the intention wasn’t to sway the judges, the threat of bad publicity resulted to the stakes being skewed against the clinic. At this point, it is worth noting that the definition of indirect contempt includes “any improper conduct tending, directly or indirectly, to impede, obstruct, or degrade the administration of justice.” Whether inviting the media is an improper conduct is an open question. Similarly, it remains an open question whether pressuring the opposing party to settle by invoking the threat of negative publicity is proper.

IV

Seok-hoon won. But, as I’ve written above, his client’s victory may have caused ethical blunders. The episode shows us that these situations appear out of nowhere. Our values and ethics are tested in the most unexpected moments. Of course, this paper is biased because I have the value of foresight, and I analyzed the scenes under an ethics lens. Still, as CPRA acknowledges, ethics is an “experiential manifestation of moral standards.” It is experiential because it is inextricably linked to a lawyer’s daily dealings—from the most mundane to the most life-shattering.

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