I stood in the Supreme Court to argue my first case.

And it wasn't just any case,

it was a case that experts called

one of the most important cases the Supreme Court had ever heard.

It considered whether Guantanamo was constitutional,

and whether the Geneva Conventions applied to the war on terror.

It was just a handful of years after the horrific attacks

of September 11.

The Supreme Court had seven Republican appointees

and two Democratic ones,

and my client happened to be Osama bin Laden's driver.

My opponent was the Solicitor General of the United States,

America's top courtroom lawyer.

He had argued 35 cases.

I wasn't even 35 years old.

And to make matters worse,

the Senate, for the first time since the Civil War,

passed a bill to try and remove the case from the docket of the Supreme Court.

Now the speaking coaches say

I'm supposed to build tension and not tell you what happens.

But the thing is, we won.

How?

Today, I'm going to talk about how to win an argument,

at the Supreme Court or anywhere.

The conventional wisdom is that you speak with confidence.

That's how you persuade.

I think that's wrong.

I think confidence is the enemy of persuasion.

Persuasion is about empathy,

about getting into people's heads.

That's what makes TED what it is.

It's why you're listening to this talk.

You could have read it on the cold page,

but you didn't.

Same thing with Supreme Court arguments --

we write written briefs with cold pages,

but we also have an oral argument.

We don't just have a system in which the justices write questions

and you write answers.

Why?

Because argument is about interaction.

I want to take you behind the scenes to tell you what I did,

and how these lessons are generalizable.

Not just for winning an argument in court,

but for something far more profound.

Now obviously, it's going to involve practice,

but not just any practice will do.

My first practice session for Guantanamo,

I flew up to Harvard

and had all these legendary professors throwing questions at me.

And even though I had read everything, rehearsed a million times,

I wasn't persuading anyone.

My arguments weren't resonating.

I was desperate.

I had done everything possible,

read every book, rehearsed a million times,

and it wasn't going anywhere.

So ultimately, I stumbled on this guy --

he was an acting coach, he wasn't even a lawyer.

He'd never set foot in the Supreme Court.

And he came into my office one day wearing a billowy white shirt

and a bolo tie,

and he looked at me with my folded arms and said,

"Look, Neal, I can tell

that you don't think this is going to work,

but just humor me.

Tell me your argument."

So I grabbed my legal pad,

and I started reading my argument.

He said, "What are you doing?"

I said, "I'm telling you my argument."

He said, "Your argument is a legal pad?"

I said, "No, but my argument is on a legal pad."

He said, "Neal, look at me.

Tell me your argument."

And so I did.

And instantly, I realized,

my points were resonating.

I was connecting to another human being.

And he could see the smile starting to form

as I was saying my words,

and he said, "OK, Neal.

Now do your argument holding my hand."

And I said, "What?"

And he said, "Yeah, hold my hand."

I was desperate, so I did it.

And I realized, "Wow, that's connection.

That's the power of how to persuade."

And it helped.

But truthfully, I still got nervous as the argument date approached.

And I knew that even though argument

was about getting into someone else's shoes

and empathizing,

I needed to have a solid core first.

So I did something outside of my comfort zone.

I wore jewelry -- not just anything,

but a bracelet that my father had worn his whole life,

until he passed away, just a few months before the argument.

I put on a tie

that my mom had given me just for the occasion.

And I took out my legal pad and wrote my children's names on it,

because that's why I was doing this.

For them, to leave the country better than I had found it.

I got to court, and I was calm.

The bracelet, the tie, the children's names

had all centered me.

Like a rock climber extending beyond the precipice,

if you have a solid hold, you can reach out.

And because argument is about persuasion,

I knew I had to avoid emotion.

Displays of emotion fail.

It's kind of like writing an email in all bold and all caps.

It persuades no one.

It's then about you, the speaker,

not about the listener or the receiver.

Now look, in some settings, the solution is to be emotional.

You're arguing with your parents,

and you use emotion and it works.

Why?

Because your parents love you.

But Supreme Court justices don't love you.

They don't like to think of themselves

as the type of people persuaded by emotion.

And I reverse engineered that insight too,

setting a trap for my opponent to provoke his emotional reaction,

so I could be seen as the calm and steady voice of the law.

And it worked.

And I remember sitting in the courtroom to learn that we had won.

That the Guantanamo tribunals were coming down.

And I went out onto the courthouse steps and there was a media firestorm.

Five hundred cameras, and they're all asking me,

"What does the decision mean, what does it say?"

Well, the decision was 185 pages long.

I hadn't had time to read it, nobody had.

But I knew what it meant.

And here's what I said on the steps of the Court.

"Here's what happened today.

You have the lowest of the low --

this guy, who was accused of being bin Laden's driver,

one of the most horrible men around.

And he sued not just anyone,

but the nation, indeed, the world's most powerful man,

the president of the United States.

And he brings it not in some rinky-dink traffic court,

but in the highest court of the land,

the Supreme Court of the United States ...

And he wins.

That's something remarkable about this country.

In many other countries,

this driver would have been shot,

just for bringing his case.

And more of the point for me, his lawyer would have been shot.

But that's what makes America different.

What makes America special."

Because of that decision,

the Geneva conventions apply to the war on terror,

which meant the end of ghost prisons worldwide,

the end of waterboarding worldwide

and an end to those Guantanamo military tribunals.

By methodically building the case,

and getting into the justices' heads,

we were able to quite literally change the world.

Sounds easy, right?

You can practice a lot,

avoid displays of emotion,

and you, too, can win any argument.

I'm sorry to say, it's not that simple,

my strategies aren't foolproof,

and while I've won more Supreme Court cases

than most anyone,

I've also lost a lot too.

Indeed, after Donald Trump was elected,

I was, constitutionally speaking, terrified.

Please understand, this is not about Left versus Right,

or anything like that.

I'm not here to talk about that.

But just a week in to the new president's term,

you might remember those scenes at the airports.

President Trump had campaigned on a pledge, saying, quote,

"I, Donald J. Trump am calling for a complete and total shutdown

of all Muslim immigration to the United States."

And he also said, quote, "I think Islam hates us."

And he made good on that promise,

banning immigration from seven countries with overwhelmingly Muslim populations.

My legal team and others went into court right away and sued,

and got that first travel ban struck down.

Trump revised it.

We went into court again and got that struck down.

He revised it again,

and changed it, adding North Korea,

because we all know,

the United States had a tremendous immigration problem with North Korea.

But it did enable his lawyers to go to the Supreme Court and say,

"See, this isn't discriminating against Muslims,

it includes these other people too."

Now I thought we had the killer answer to that.

I won't bore you with the details,

but the thing is, we lost.

Five votes to four.

And I was devastated.

I was worried my powers of persuasion had waned.

And then, two things happened.

The first was,

I noticed a part of the Supreme Court's travel ban opinion

that discussed the Japanese American interment.

That was a horrific moment in our history,

in which over 100,000 Japanese Americans had been interned in camps.

My favorite person to challenge this scheme

was Gordon Hirabayashi,

a University of Washington student.

He turned himself in to the FBI,

who said, "Look, you're a first-time offender,

you can go home."

And Gordon said,

"No, I'm a Quaker, I have to resist unjust laws,"

and so they arrested him and he was convicted.

Gordon's case made it to the Supreme Court.

And again, I'm going to do that thing

where I quash any sense of anticipation you have,

and tell you what happened.

Gordon lost.

But he lost because of a simple reason.

Because the Solicitor General,

that top courtroom lawyer for the government,

told the Supreme Court

that the Japanese American internment was justified by military necessity.

And that was so,

even though his own staff had discovered

that there was no need for the Japanese American interment

and that the FBI and the intelligence community

all believed that.

And indeed, that it was motivated by racial prejudice.

His staff begged the Solicitor General,

"Tell the truth, don't suppress evidence."

What did the Solicitor General do?

Nothing.

He went in and told the "military necessity" story.

And so the Court upheld Gordon Hirabayashi's conviction.

And the next year, upheld Fred Korematsu's interment.

Now why was I thinking about that?

Because nearly 70 years later,

I got to hold the same office,

Head of the Solicitor General's Office.

And I got to set the record straight,

explaining that the government had misrepresented the facts

in the Japanese interment cases.

And when I thought about the Supreme Court's travel ban opinion,

I realized something.

The Supreme Court, in that opinion,

went out of its way to overrule the Korematsu case.

Now, not only had the Justice Department said

the Japanese interment was wrong,

the Supreme Court said so too.

That's a crucial lesson about arguments -- timing.