Fishing for the good ones

The trials and tribulations of law school lecturing ... Achievers, plodders and bottom dwellers ... University entry requirements lowered - a boon for bottom-dwellers ... Ten percent take up 25 percent of the time and effort ... Senior law lecturer Dr Criminale takes to his keyboard and blogs 

If my years of teaching have proven one thing it's that there are three types of law student: the achievers, the plodders and the bottom-dwellers.

An achieverThe achievers make up about 10 percent of the enrolment. These marvellous people are the reason why I go to work with a smile on my face (all right, 'go to work' ... I'll ignore the other reasons, such as my mortgage).

They are enthusiastic (sometimes excessively so), bright-eyed, well-prepared and full of good questions - some of which I can answer.

These are the ones who will get those coveted summer clerkships and go on to work at the big firms, government departments or the bar. I may live long enough to see one or two of them become judges.

The plodders make up the bulk of each year's intake, about 80 percent.

The plodders miss a few classes, may get into some problems for academic misconduct - usually due to sloppy referencing - and consistently turn in papers that land firmly in the average category.

Nevertheless, they complete most of their readings and generally want to learn something.

These people may not make me smile but I have no problem teaching them. Some of them will go on to become practitioners or, dare I say it, lecturers - I was a plodder myself.

Then there are the bottom-dwellers.

These creatures waste everyone's time, including their own. They seem to believe that law school is a question of blending-in and doing nothing.

There is always some excuse why they cannot attend classes. Occasionally they will snap at a passing opportunity, such as the university's student sickness and disability policy, which they have abused to the point of absurdity.

They are prepared to lie and cheat their way through the entire degree if necessary. Their grasp of administrative law, not previously evident, becomes impressive when called to appear before the academic misconduct committee.

Starved of funds, the university has lowered entry requirements to attract more students. Consequently, the bottom-dwellers have schooled in.

The theory behind this policy seems to be one of academic Darwinism: the weak ones will die off by natural selection (once their fees have been collected).

Unfortunately, there is nothing natural about the task of selection, which falls upon the lecturer.

Disposing of all the throwbacks is by no means a brief job.

While we would prefer to sweep the lot overboard in one motion, each wriggling protester must be scrutinised individually.

Even a straightforward case of academic misconduct requires a marathon of form-filling and rigid adherence to procedural niceties. That bottom-dwelling 10 percent, in consequence, take up a good 25 percent of my time.

I like to think that my colleagues and I reject all of the bottom-dwellers, but be warned: that well-presented snapper at your next graduate intake might be a toadfish in disguise.