Frank Ramos, Best Lawyers - Lawyer of the Year - Personal Injury Litigation - Defendants - Miami - 2025 and Product Liability Defense - Miami - 2020, 2023, recently posted something that made me stop scrolling. It was simple, blunt, and instantly familiar to anyone who has been in a courtroom:

Good lawyers know the law.
Great lawyers know the room.

He continued with a cadence that felt like it came from lived experience: they listen longer, speak less, notice everything. They wait to understand. They know when to press and when to stop. And they know when silence is louder than argument.

I want to expand on what Frank is getting at, because it is one of those truths that changes how you prepare, how you try cases, and honestly how you communicate anywhere stakes are high.

Knowing the law is table stakes

Most lawyers spend years mastering rules, standards, and procedure. That work matters. It is also not what separates competent from exceptional when the pressure is on.

Frank’s line, 'Judgment is human. Law is technical,' draws a clean boundary:

Law is what you can research, outline, cite, and rehearse.
Judgment is what you have to exercise in real time, with imperfect information, under stress, while other humans react.

In trial advocacy, the law is necessary but rarely sufficient. Two advocates can know the same case law and still produce radically different outcomes because one of them senses the moment and the other fights the script.

Great lawyers know the room

When Frank says great lawyers know the room, I read it as situational awareness plus emotional intelligence plus timing.

The 'room' is not just the courtroom. It is:

The judge’s tolerance for detours and theatrics
The jury’s energy, attention, confusion, or skepticism
Opposing counsel’s posture, confidence, and risk appetite
Your own witness’s fear, defensiveness, or credibility
The invisible mood created by delays, sidebars, tech issues, and fatigue

Knowing the room means you treat every moment as feedback. Not paranoia. Not performance. Feedback.

What awareness actually looks like

Awareness can sound mystical until you name the observable behaviors:

You track which jurors are leaning in versus checking out.
You notice when the judge starts writing more (or stops writing).
You hear the shift in a witness’s voice when they stop answering and start advocating.
You sense when your argument is landing and when it is simply continuing.

Frank’s point that 'the edge isn’t brilliance. It’s awareness' is a direct challenge to the myth that great lawyering is mainly about cleverness. Cleverness can help. Awareness wins the accumulation game.

Listen longer, speak less: the discipline behind control

Frank wrote, 'They listen longer. They speak less.' This is counterintuitive for lawyers because we are trained to fill space with argument.

But listening is not passive. In court it is an active tool for control:

If you listen longer, you gather more usable detail.
If you speak less, your words carry more weight.
If you pause before responding, you reduce unforced errors.

In depositions, the attorney who talks too much often provides the witness a map. In hearings, the lawyer who keeps answering questions the judge did not ask usually weakens their own credibility. Listening is how you stay aligned with what matters right now, not what mattered in your outline last night.

A practical listening shift

Try this mental move the next time you are in a live exchange: stop thinking of your next sentence as a response. Think of it as a decision.

Do I need to answer this, or clarify it?
Do I need to press, or let it sit?
Is the moment calling for explanation, or for restraint?

That is judgment showing up in real time.

Knowing when to press and when to stop

One of the strongest parts of Frank’s post is the paired idea: great lawyers 'know when to press' and 'know when to stop.' Many litigators develop only one of those gears.

Pressing is not the same as being aggressive. It is applying force at the right time, in the right direction, with a clear objective.

Stopping is not the same as conceding. It is recognizing diminishing returns.

Signs it is time to press

The witness is overcommitting, and a narrow follow-up will lock in the story.
The judge is engaged and asking questions that open the door you need.
The jury is tracking, and the next point is a clean, memorable step.

Signs it is time to stop

You already got the admission and further questions invite repair.
Your best point landed, and repetition will feel like insecurity.
The judge’s tone shifts from curiosity to impatience.

This is where preparation meets presence. Preparation gives you options. Presence tells you which option fits the room.

When silence is louder than argument

Frank’s line about silence deserves its own space because silence is a weapon and a shield, and most people never train with it.

Silence can:

Signal confidence (I am not afraid of this moment).
Increase the perceived importance of what was just said.
Invite the other person to keep talking, often past the safe stopping point.
Give the decision-maker time to process your best point.

In cross-examination, the most effective follow-up after a damaging answer is sometimes no follow-up at all. Let it hang. Let jurors look at each other. Let the discomfort do the work.

In opening and closing, silence can also be structure. A brief pause before a key fact or after a key phrase can create emphasis without theatrics.

The catch is that silence only works when you are comfortable inside it. If you look nervous, silence reads as uncertainty. If you look composed, silence reads as control.

Awareness compounds over time

Frank ended with the idea that awareness compounds. That is exactly right, and it is hopeful because it means this is trainable.

Awareness compounds when you review your own performance honestly:

After a hearing, write down three signals you noticed (judge, opposing counsel, your own cadence).
After a deposition, identify the moment you should have stopped and the moment you should have pressed.
After trial days, note what the jury responded to, not what you wished they responded to.

Over months, you build a personal pattern library. You start predicting where tension will rise, where confusion will appear, where credibility will crack. That is not magic. That is reps.

A quick note on why this went viral

Frank’s post is also a masterclass in LinkedIn content strategy, which matters if you want your ideas to travel.

It works because:

It uses contrast (good vs great) to create immediate clarity.
It uses short lines to create rhythm and momentum.
It focuses on one sharp insight instead of ten diluted ones.
It respects the reader’s experience, meaning it feels true rather than salesy.

This is why strong LinkedIn content often looks simple. Simplicity is not lack of depth. It is precision.

Takeaways you can apply this week

If I had to translate Frank’s message into actionable habits, I would start here:

Prepare harder than you think you need to, so you can adapt without panic.
In live moments, prioritize listening over proving.
Use silence intentionally, not accidentally.
Keep a running log of room signals and your response to them.

Knowing the law will get you in the door. Knowing the room is how you lead once you are there.

This blog post expands on a viral LinkedIn post by Frank Ramos, Best Lawyers - Lawyer of the Year - Personal Injury Litigation - Defendants - Miami - 2025 and Product Liability Defense - Miami - 2020, 2023 🔹 Trial Lawyer 🔹 Commercial 🔹 Products 🔹 Catastrophic Personal Injury🔹AI. View the original LinkedIn post →