The Supreme Court of Virginia heard argument yesterday in Ream v. Egan, Record No. 250979. The issue on appeal is whether the Court of Appeals erred by holding that the plaintiffs had adequately alleged gross negligence. This is assignment of error 3, so SCOVA evidently determined that at least two other assignments of error were not certworthy. The CAV opinion under review is here.

The audio from the argument is not posted yet, so I’m going from memory here. Please cut me a little slack here, because I was arguing next and thus a little distracted. But as I recall, the interplay between Justices Mann, Kelsey, and Russell (mediated through counsel for the parties) was fascinating. Justice Mann took the (reasonable!) position that Virginia is a notice pleading state, the complaint put the defense on notice of a claim for gross negligence, and so what’s the problem here? We’ll sort the details out in discovery, motions practice, and trial. That works for me. Under Rule 3;18(b), “[a]n allegation of negligence or contributory negligence is sufficient without specifying the particulars of the negligence.” And ye olde form negligence complaint in the Federal Rules used to say only that at a certain time and place “the defendant negligently drove a motor vehicle against the plaintiff,” causing harm.

Justice Kelsey saw things differently. He pointed out that SCOVA’s last six gross-negligence cases set the bar pretty high for plaintiffs. He really wanted to know how the allegations in this case cleared that bar.

That’s case-specific, and so maybe not as interesting. But Justice Kelsey also dove into the complaint, noting that at different places the complaint alternately alleged that one of the defendants was a substitute special-ed teacher and a substitute special-ed teacher’s aide. Justice Kelsey and Russell wanted to know how to address this inconsistency. Justice Kelsey, in particular, suggested that a complaint that alternately alleged that a traffic light was green and red would be subject to demurrer, at least as to claims dependent on that allegation.

That sounds wrong to me. I think the correct answer is that we read the complaint in the light most favorable to the plaintiff, and give her the benefit of any contradictions. We also read the complaint as a whole. So in Justice Kelsey’s example, if the plaintiff is suing the defendant for running a red light but also includes an allegation that the light was green, we disregard that as an error in the context of the complaint as a whole, read in the light most favorable to the plaintiff. Justice Kelsey has suggested in the past that allegations using “and/or” can render a complaint demurrable. I think that’s incorrect for the same reason. We give the poorly written allegation the reading friendliest to the plaintiff that is consistent with the pleading as a whole, wish the plaintiff had hired a better lawyer, and move on.

And that gets back to a point Justice Mann raised. Demurrer arguments can start to sound a lot like motion-to-strike arguments, where we are getting in to the sufficiency of the evidence. But Virginia is a notice pleading state, and evidence is developed in discovery. It is not actually hard to allege negligence under the rules: “On July 22 at the corner of Elm Street and Franklin Avenue, Doris Defendant negligently drove her car into the Paul Plaintiff, breaking his leg.” The defendant is free to argue that this is “conclusory” or “implausible,” but it puts her on notice of the claim and survives demurrer. It even survives demurrer if we append “and/or concussing him” to the end of the sentence. The point of negligence law isn’t to dispose of cases at the pleadings stage for typos or sloppy grammar.

Earlier this week, I caught a webcast replay of Judge Ortiz’s overview of recent civil decisions from the Supreme Court of Virginia. It was characteristically excellent (except that the most interesting case of the term, Mast v. A.A., reversed Judge Ortiz even though he was probably right. So etiquette and ethics kept us from getting quite the full-throated treatment of Mast that the case deserves. But still.)

One of the highlights of the CLE was a set of statistics that Judge Ortiz compiled. Now, two caveats: (1) I haven’t seen the underlying data and don’t know how he calculated these figures, and (2) even apart from that, I am too dumb and impatient to verify them. So I report to you the stats I heard, and if you have questions, talk to Virginia CLE.

Since SB 1261 expanded the CAV’s jurisdiction, the court has received an average of 644 civil appeals a year. It is on pace to handle more than 700 this year.

SCOVA handles far fewer civil appeals. In 2019, it handled 47 civil appeals. (I guess we’re counting by opinions and orders issued? See first caveat, above.) But that number declined sharply through 2023, when it hit 15, and bottomed out in 2024 with 13 (maybe 14? I can’t read my notes). It rebounded to 24 in 2025. There’s obviously a lot of noise in these numbers. For example,the civil appeal of right come online in 2022, meaning that civil cases now generally travel through the CAV on their way to SCOVA. So you would expect a precipitous drop somewhere around there. And, you know, the world shut down in 2020, so at least some of the decline in SCOVA cases has to be a result of that backlog. But the upshot here is that the CAV is handling way more civil appeals than SCOVA–which is, of course, how things are supposed to work.

Finally, Judge Ortiz tells us that in the civil appeals that it grants, SCOVA is more likely to reverse. Since 2022, reversals have increased by 18%, while reversals have declined by 12%.

Effective July 1, 2025, Code Section 17.1-403(ii)(c) expanded the CAV’s authority to dispense with oral argument. Before that date, the statute directed the Supreme Court to adopt rules allowing the CAV to dispense with oral argument “if the parties agree that oral argument is not necessary or if the panel has examined the briefs and record and unanimously agrees that oral argument is unnecessary because (a) the appeal is wholly without merit, or (b) the dispositive issue or issues have been authoritatively decided, and the appellant has not argued that the case law should be overturned, extended, modified, or reversed.”

That posed a problem in practice, because (1) litigants will rarely agree that oral argument is unnecessary, (2) very few appeals are “wholly without merit,” and (3) the whole point of the CAV is to develop the law because Virginia law has not “authoritatively decided” many issues (because until 10 minutes ago, it did not have an intermediate appellate court of general jurisdiction.

So the CAV soldiered along, overworked and understaffed, and heard an awful lot of arguments in cases that maybe could have been resolved with them.

But then in 2025, the General Assembly amended Code Section 17.1-403, to read as follows:

The rules shall prescribe procedures (i) authorizing the Court of Appeals to prescribe truncated record or appendix preparation and (ii) permitting the Court of Appeals to dispense with oral argument if the parties agree that oral argument is not necessary or if the panel has examined the briefs and record and unanimously agrees that oral argument is unnecessary because (a) the appeal is wholly without merit or; (b) the dispositive issue or issues have been authoritatively decided, and the appellant has not argued that the case law should be overturned, extended, modified, or reversed; or (c) the facts and legal arguments are adequately presented in the briefs and record, and the decisional process would not be significantly aided by oral argument.

That’s pretty reasonable. It gives the CAV authority that every federal circuit court enjoys. See FRAP 34.

But by their terms, these amendments sunsets on June 30, 2027. (Always check the Acts of Assembly!) As I understand it, the General Assembly was worried that the CAV would grow “miserly” in awarding oral argument, so they put a check on this new authority.

And so the Boyd-Graves conference tasked a committee with considering whether the amendments should become permanent. Erin Ashwell chaired the committee, whose members included Judges Friedman and Raphael and Official Friends of De Novo John Eure and Matt McGuire.

The answer: of course they should! What are we even doing here?

The report is fantastic. I’ll include a link when the VBA posts it. The report digs into just how stingy the CAV has gotten in awarding oral argument. The answer: not so stingy! More like, generous. Lavish, even. Liberal, open-handed, dare I say extravagant in granting oral argument.

In FY 24, before the new power went into effect, the CAV heard argument in 65% of merits cases. In FY 25, with the newfound power to dispense with oral argument, that dropped to 57%. Now, an 8% drop is not nothing, but how does that compare with peer institutions? Pretty well, as it turns out:

And for reasons we don’t need to get into, that Massachusetts number may be wildly overstated. It could actually be 30%. So the CAV looks to be doing a pretty good job.

How does it compare to federal circuit courts? The Ashwell committee is glad you asked:

The only surprising thing about this chart is that some courts are even more miserly than CA4. And on that point, the report even gives a shout out to Dean Larsen’s excellent article on circuit personalities.

Anyway, the whole report is worth your time.

Over at SCOTUSblog, Stephen Wermiel has a short post about judgments and mandates, and in particular the difference between reversing and vacating a judgment. By statute, SCOTUS has the power to the power to “affirm, modify, vacate, set aside or reverse any judgment” of a lower court, and “remand the cause and direct the entry of such appropriate judgment, decree, order, or require such further proceedings … as may be just under the circumstances.”

What do those terms mean? In short, SCOTUS

  • Reverses a judgment that is “absolutely wrong”;
  • Vacates a judgment that is “less than absolutely wrong;”;
  • Affirms a judgment that it upholds; and
  • Remands a judgment to a lower court for further review.

And a SCOTUS judgment becomes effective when the mandate issues.

From time to time, we appellate lawyers may find ourselves in the position of arguing from someone else’s brief. Now, to be clear: The brief itself may be effective. It may even be good. But it’s not ours. Every lawyer has their own style. As Brother Emmert can attest, I take a maximalist approach to these things. For example, I like to cover as much as possible in the briefs, for any number of strategic reasons. I tend to anticipate and rebut arguments that I think the other side might raise. I also favor bright colors, shrieking italics, and lots of pictures. If appellate lawyers were movie directors, I’d be downright Tarantinoid.

Most briefs (probably to their credit) are not that.

To prep to argue from someone else’s brief, you have to recreate the record review and legal research that would have gone into writing the thing in the first place. So it takes a bit longer than usual (which, depending on billing arrangements, can be bad or worse). All that is fair enough, I guess, but then, once you figure out how you want to present the arguments, you have to go back and make sure that you can fairly tie them to the brief to avoid bad-brief waiver and recriminations. All in all, this can be a heavy lift.

But then you get to the argument itself. Now, one of the benefits of a maximalist brief is that it tees up a minimalist oral argument: Having said all that you want in the briefing, if the court seems to get your argument, you can just sit down. And you should sit down! But what if you haven’t had a chance to say everything you want, like setting up and knocking down the steel-man version of the other side’s argument? God forbid a clever clerk comes along with a strong argument for the other side that you haven’t had a chance to address. In the interest of completeness, you may find yourself arguing against yourself at the podium, so you can then go back and argue for yourself. Your client wonders, not without reason, if you have lost your mind. And the judges gaze at you quizzically, wondering why you can’t take yes for an answer. You become tedious. None of this is ideal.

Does this mean that I won’t argue someone else’s brief? Not exactly, but I’ll definitely factor in the degree of difficulty and strong potential for embarrassment.

In Mary Washington Healthcare v. Costello, the CAV holds that a trial court certifying an issue for interlocutory appeal does not have to explicitly make the four-part finding laid out in Code § 8.01-675.5.

Code § 8.01-675.5, you will recall, requires that a would-be appellant ask the court to certify in writing that an order meets four qualifications. Within 15 days of entry of a written order granting such certification, the appellant may file a petition for appeal:

The motion shall include a concise analysis of the statutes, rules, or cases believed to be determinative of the issues and request that the court certify in writing that the order or decree involves a question of law as to which (i) there is substantial ground for difference of opinion; (ii) there is no clear, controlling precedent on point in the decisions of the Supreme Court of Virginia or the Court of Appeals of Virginia; (iii) determination of the issues will be dispositive of a material aspect of the proceeding currently pending before the court; and (iv) it is in the parties’ best interest to seek an interlocutory appeal. If the request for certification is opposed by any party, the parties may brief the motion in accordance with the Rules of Supreme Court of Virginia.

Within 15 days of the entry of an order by the circuit court granting such certification, a petition for appeal may be filed with the Court of Appeals. …

Here, the trial court’s order said, “Based on the arguments, authorities, and representations of counsel, the [m]otion to [c]erify [for interlocutory appeal] is GRANTED and, pursuant to [Code] § 8.01-675.5, the [c]ourt CERTIFIES for interlocutory appeal [p]art I [of the plea in bar order]. The transcript of the hearing on the [m]otion to [c]ertify is incorporated by reference into this order.” Despite the incorporation of a transcript, none was ever filed.

The CAV found that this language was enough to satisfy Code § 8.01-675.5, and that a transcript was unnecessary because “the order suffices.”

This holding is notable because it departs from federal practice, where simply citing the interlocutory-appeal statute does not meet the certification requirement under 28 U.S.C. 1292. Hewitt v. Joyce Beverages of Wisc., 721 F.2d 625, 627 (7th Cir. 1983). Instead, the court “should state the reasons that warrant appeal as a guide to the court of appeals.” 16 Fed. Prac. & Proc. Juris. § 3929 (3d ed.). “Merely stating that the ruling is certified ‘pursuant to section 1292(b)’ may imply that the district court concluded an interlocutory appeal was appropriate, but standing alone, it does not clearly demonstrate an actual belief that the specific statutory requirements were satisfied.” Hewitt, 721 F.2d at 627.

The Court of Appeals handed down its ruling in the latest episode in the ongoing Galiotos saga earlier this week. I can’t really improve on the summary that the panel provides in its introduction:

These five appeals arise from a longstanding dispute among three brothers—Stavros (“Steve”), Paul, and Tasos Galiotos—over the division of business assets held in trusts for which the brothers are both co-trustees and equal beneficiaries. In Galiotos v. Galiotos, 83 Va. App. 206 (2024) (Nos. 0068-24-1 & 0077-24-1), we affirmed the chancellor’s final order that (i) required a pro-rata distribution of each asset and (ii) rejected a proposal by Steve and Paul for a non-pro-rata distribution that the chancellor found unfair to Tasos. To stay execution of the judgment pending appeal, the chancellor required security of $1 million and imposed conditions to protect the parties’ interests and the trust assets that Steve and Paul continued to manage as majority co-trustees.

After Steve posted the $1 million security, however, Paul insisted that he was not bound by the stay conditions because he was not asking for the judgment to be stayed as to him. The trial court issued an order to clarify that the stay conditions applied to all three brothers. Paul appeals that ruling, arguing that the trial court lost jurisdiction to extend the stay conditions to him. The trial court subsequently entered four contempt orders against Paul for continuing to disobey the stay conditions. Paul separately appealed each of those contempt orders.

We find appellate jurisdiction lacking in two of the appeals but affirm the judgments in the other three. In doing so, we make clear that Rule 1:1B(a)(3) gives trial courts concurrent jurisdiction with the appellate court to address the conditions for a stay pending appeal. We clarify that Code § 8.01-676.1(E) requires a party aggrieved by a trial court’s stay-pending-appeal ruling to seek review of that ruling before the appellate panel hearing the appeal, rather than by filing an independent appeal, as Paul tried to do here. And we clarify the rules for determining when a contempt order is appealable.

The whole opinion is worth reading, but it has a few points of particular interest for appellate lawyers.

First, the opinion explains concurrent jurisdiction under Rule 1:1B and stays pending appeal. Reviews of stay/security decision must be sought in the pending appeal, not a new one.

Second, the opinion address five appeals. The motions panel had earlier denied Tasos’s motion to dismiss one of them for lack of appellate jurisdiction. But the merits panel vacated that decision and dismissed the claims for lack of jurisdiction. So filing a motion to dismiss maybe got Tasos a second bite at the apple? File that away for later.

Third, the court denies counsel’s motion to withdraw as counsel in four of the five appeals:

Three weeks before oral argument, two of Paul’s three lawyers moved to withdraw as counsel in four of the five cases on appeal, Record Nos. 1953-24-1, 1661-24-1, 0124-25-1, and 0370-25-1. No motion to withdraw was filed in Record No. 1045-24-1, in which Paul’s counsel less than two weeks earlier had completed supplemental briefing requested by the panel on whether we have jurisdiction over the appeal. The motion to withdraw in the four cases in which it was filed alleged that Paul “has failed to meet his contractual obligations to [his lawyers] and there has been a significant breakdown in communication over the past several months.” The motion to withdraw omitted reference to a third lawyer from the same firm who has also entered an appearance in each of the appeals. Given the considerable judicial resources already invested in evaluating these five appeals, the fact that the withdrawal motion was filed in only four of the five appeals, the imminence of oral argument, and the obvious prejudice to Paul if all of his lawyers withdrew without substitute counsel’s entering an appearance (assuming the motions are construed to mean that all of his lawyers seek withdrawal in each of the five appeals), we denied the motion to withdraw in the four appeals in which it was filed.

If you find yourself needing to withdraw close to argument, keep these factors—late timing, uneven coverage across the five appeals, substantial judicial resources already invested, and the risk of prejudice—in mind.

I’ve been experimenting with using ChatGPT to prep for oral argument. I always do the thinking myself first, putting together my silly lists, outlines, and tough questions. But then I’ve been using AI to backstop or refine my work. It’s pretty good!

Here’s the basic process: First, I tell the client what I’m planning to do and why, and I get their consent. Second, I create a project and upload the briefs, the key cases, and maybe parts of the record. Third, I write a pretty detailed prompt explaining what I’m trying to accomplish (e..g,, “I am counsel for the appellant, and I am preparing for oral argument …”). Generally, and this is just me, I like appellate output in the voice of Elena Kagan, John Roberts, our Paul Clement–both because they’re good, and they seem to have a sufficient corpus of work for the AI to play with. I haven’t tried Elizabeth Prelogar yet.

Then I ask it questions along the following lines (these are not the actual prompts, but the general topics; no sense spelling out the actual prompts, because the AI would love to help you optimize them):

  • Pretend that you are a judge on the Court of Appeals of Virginia. What would bother you about this case?
  • Pretend that you are a judge on the Court of Appeals of Virginia. After reading the briefs, what would want to learn about this case at oral argument?
  • What are the 150 record citations that appellant’s counsel needs to master to be ready for a 15-minute oral argument? Please give me a summary organized by topic, listing the record page number and a summary of the material included there.
  • Please prepare a table summarizing the respective positions of the appellant and the appellee on the key factual and legal issues in this case.
  • What are the three most important arguments in the brief of appellee (and any amicus) that are not addressed in the reply brief?
  • Please summarize the attached opinion in 5 paragraphs. (I’ll sometime ask it to focus on a specific issue, highlight a dissent, present the output in a certain format, etc.)
  • Please rank the three strongest arguments for each side.
  • Please prepare a list of 25 key questions the appellant should be prepared to address at oral argument.
  • Please outline the oral argument you would give if you were the appellee. (Remember, I’ve got the appellant.)
  • Please run a moot court for the appellant. Please imagine a hot bench that is focused on issue x. Please remember that judges ask follow up questions and interrupt counsel. Please present the moot court in the form of a dialogue.
  • If the appellant is asked x at oral argument, I believe that the answer is y. Can you help me optimize this answer for oral argument?
  • Pretend that you are a judge on the Court of Appeals of Virginia. Please review these materials and do any additional research necessary, then write a 2,500-word opinion deciding the case.

Obviously, the answer is going to vary by case.But as a default, I’ve settled on four minutes. Here’s why:

  • In my experience, most panels that eat into your rebuttal time in your opening give that time back in your rebuttal. I haven’t done a systematic study of this, but I’m fairly confident in the anecdata–confident enough that if the panel didn’t give me the time back in rebuttal, I would take that as a signal.
  • I rarely use (or want) more than four minutes for rebuttal in a 15-minute argument, and I’m usually fine with less.
  • If my opening is going well–that is, if I’m getting questions and the Court seems to understand/accept my arguments–I can always sit down early.
  • If the argument is tough and I am making progress, I can confidently use some of my rebuttal time knowing that (1) I’ll likely get it added back and (2) I can make do with less if necessary. The willingness to risk someone my rebuttal, I think, probably signals to the Court that I am taking their questions seriously and am engaged. Also, I might wind up getting more time than the appellee, which is always nice.
  • If I draw a cold or completely hostile bench and don’t feel that I’m making progress, I have a face-saving excuse for sitting down at 10-11 minutes.

Every appellate CLE stresses the importance of reviewing the record as soon as possible, particularly if you are the appellant. This is especially important in state court because (1) you run up against deadlines quickly once the record lands in CAV, and (2) PACER works, but OCRA . . . kinda works sometimes?

And at every appellate CLE, this leads to the question: What do I do if a document is missing from the record?

Real life answer: Call the CAV clerk’s office, explain the situation, and stand back. CAV will call the trial court clerk’s office. The lower court clerk will submit an amended record, which the parties and CAV will use, and life will be good. See Va. Sup. Ct. R. 5:15(a).

Formal legal answer: File a petition for a writ of certiorari under Code Section 8.01-673.

This explanation typically leads to confused looks and deep questions about why big-boy SCOTUS uses cert petitions to exercise discretionary review of intermediate appellate court errors, while SCOVA uses cert petitions to plug holes in the record.

SCOVA’s recent opinion in Eckard v. Commonwealth sheds some light on these imponderables. Eckard is basically a juror misconduct case with documents missing from the record that went up to CAV–namely, a written proffer and the Commonwealth’s objection. Eckard discussed the proffer in his principal brief in CAV, even supplying a record cite (R. 294, in case you were wondering). Because this is a missing-documents case, of course, there was no proffer at R. 294. The Commonwealth politely–ever so politely–pointed this out. Eckard declined to file a reply brief. The panel asked about the whole kerfuffle at oral argument, but Eckard didn’t have great answers. CAV predictably affirmed the trial court in an unpublished order, refusing to consider the missing proffer.

Eckard then petitioned for appeal to SCOVA. Again, he referenced the written proffer, again citing R. 294. SCOVA granted the petition, and Eckard filed a petition for writ of certiorari to add the written proffer and the Commonwealth’s objections to the record.* The Commonwealth objected under Rule 5:15(a), which says that the record on appeal from CAV “consists of the record as filed in the office of the clerk of” CAV, along with all other documents filed with the clerk.

SCOVA decided that it could not consider the proffer and the Commonwealth’s objections to it. Rule 5:15(a) explains that the record on appeal to SCOVA is the record from CAV, which did not include these documents. The court stressed Eckard’s “exclusive duty” to make sure that the record was sufficient to review any alleged error.

The court was not inclined to enlarge the record by granting Eckard’s cert petition. It explained that “Code § 8.01-673(A) codifies an ancient writ issued by common-law courts.” (Why yes, Justice Kelsey did write this opinion, why do you ask?) Certiorari is an “extraordinary remedy” that historically applied to all manner of defects in lower court cases where the procedure did not accord with common law. “At common law when not ancillary to other process, certiorari is in the nature of a writ of error. It has the same functions to inferior tribunals whose proceedings are not according to the course of common law as the writ of error has to common-law courts.” That said, modern Virginia practice  uses the writ only to secure a complete record.

The court characterized Rule 5:15’s statement about the record as “descriptive,” explaining that if it “has any prescriptive effect, it governs only the litigants and by implication forbids them from unilaterally adding anything to the appellate record so defined.” It does not limit an appellate court’s common-law power to issue a writ of certiorari. That said, nothing in the common law or the statute requires the appellant to issue the writ. SCOVA thus declined to do so, explaining that there was “no defect in the justice administered” by CAV: “The judges of that court cannot be faulted for not considering documents never presented to them.” if there was any error in the CAV proceeding, SCOVA concluded, it was Eckard’s.

*These documents were part of an amended trial court record that was transmitted to SCOVA the day before Eckard filed his cert petition. This suggests that Eckard called at least one of the clerk’s offices (SCOVA or trial court), and got them to “fix” the problem. The trouble is that the fix came too late, because the document wasn’t part of the CAV record–either formally, under Rule 5:15, or in real life. So he couldn’t fault the CAV panel for not reviewing it. The short cut of calling the clerk’s office works only if you do it immediately in the Court of Appeals.