The witness's ground rules.

Everything else on this page is technique. This one is the law. You are under oath, lying is perjury, and a lie is also the single easiest thing to impeach — the record never forgets, and neither does opposing counsel. Truthful testimony is not just right; it is the only version of events you can keep consistent for years.

Not the question you expected. Not the question you'd prefer. The question actually asked, all the way to the end. Witnesses get hurt answering questions that were never posed — and handing over answers nobody requested.

"Do you know what time the meeting started?" is answered with "Yes." Not the time, not who was late, not what was said. If opposing counsel wants more, they will ask more — making them work for every fact is not evasion, it is how depositions are supposed to work. Every extra sentence you offer is a door you opened for free.

"Yes." "No." "I don't know." "I don't recall." Each of those is a full, respectable, finished answer. You are not there to be interesting, thorough, or helpful. You are there to answer questions accurately and go home.

"I don't know" and "I don't recall" are the truth when they are the truth — say them without embarrassment, as many times as they are true. A guess becomes sworn testimony the moment it leaves your mouth, and you will be held to it as if you'd measured it. If you can genuinely estimate, label it plainly: "I'm not certain — approximately three."

A beat of silence gives your attorney room to object, gives you room to think, and costs you nothing — the transcript does not record how long you took. Rushed answers read exactly like nervous ones because they usually are.

Compound questions, double negatives, vague pronouns, terms you'd define differently — you are entitled to ask for a rephrase, and you should, every time. Never answer a question you only mostly understood. Answering it adopts it.

"So what you're saying is…" is rarely what you were saying. When counsel summarizes your testimony back to you, listen like it's a trap, because it often is. If the summary is wrong in any particular, say so plainly: "No, that's not what I said." Silence is agreement on the record.

When you're handed an exhibit, take your time and read it — all of it, not the paragraph counsel points to. Nobody can rush you. Questions about a document you half-read produce answers you'll spend the rest of the case explaining.

Opposing counsel's favorite tool is silence. They pause, look at you expectantly, and wait for you to get uncomfortable and keep talking. Let the silence sit. It is their problem, not yours. The witness who fills silence donates testimony.

You can only lose one. No arguing, no jokes, no sarcasm, no showing off — humor and heat both read terribly in a flat transcript, and an angry witness is an inaccurate one. Beware absolute words like "never" and "always"; they are impeachment bait. Calm, boring, and precise is a witness at the top of their game.

Mid-word if necessary. An objection is an instruction to wait, not background noise. And use the breaks you're entitled to — tired witnesses volunteer things. There are no points for endurance.