"Trial. A formal inquiry designed to prove and put upon record the blameless characters of judges, advocates and jurors"
About this Quote
Bierce takes a civic ritual that advertises itself as truth-finding and flips it into reputation laundering. The joke lands because it’s surgically plausible: trials do produce a record, but the record often functions less like a neutral ledger of facts and more like a public performance where institutions certify their own legitimacy. “Formal inquiry” sounds impartial, bureaucratic, almost scientific. Then he yanks the rug: the real product isn’t justice but the “blameless characters” of the people running the show.
The intent is classic Bierce: puncture sanctimony by pointing at the incentives everyone pretends aren’t there. Judges need to appear above bias, advocates need to appear as honorable agents of the law rather than paid combatants, jurors need to appear as commonsense democracy incarnate. A trial becomes a theater of procedural virtue, where the choreography (robes, rules of evidence, elevated benches, solemn language) doesn’t just arbitrate guilt; it manufactures authority. Even when the outcome is messy, the process can still certify the system as clean.
The subtext is darker than a one-liner: ordinary defendants are the raw material. Their lives supply the drama through which professionals demonstrate composure, cleverness, and fairness. Bierce’s cynicism fits his post-Civil War, Gilded Age America, when corruption, graft, and class power made “the law” feel less like a shield and more like a stage-managed club. It’s not that every judge is corrupt; it’s that the ritual is built to protect the image of the machinery, especially when the machinery fails.
The intent is classic Bierce: puncture sanctimony by pointing at the incentives everyone pretends aren’t there. Judges need to appear above bias, advocates need to appear as honorable agents of the law rather than paid combatants, jurors need to appear as commonsense democracy incarnate. A trial becomes a theater of procedural virtue, where the choreography (robes, rules of evidence, elevated benches, solemn language) doesn’t just arbitrate guilt; it manufactures authority. Even when the outcome is messy, the process can still certify the system as clean.
The subtext is darker than a one-liner: ordinary defendants are the raw material. Their lives supply the drama through which professionals demonstrate composure, cleverness, and fairness. Bierce’s cynicism fits his post-Civil War, Gilded Age America, when corruption, graft, and class power made “the law” feel less like a shield and more like a stage-managed club. It’s not that every judge is corrupt; it’s that the ritual is built to protect the image of the machinery, especially when the machinery fails.
Quote Details
| Topic | Witty One-Liners |
|---|---|
| Source | Ambrose Bierce — entry "Trial" in The Devil's Dictionary (definition/entry title). |
More Quotes by Ambrose
Add to List


