A Brief Writing Lesson from the Court of Federal Claims

The court gave a writing lesson in Scale AI, Inc. v. U.S., __ Fed. Cl. __, 2026 WL 2444836 (Ct. Fed. Claims Aug. 18, 2026).

More than forty years ago, the Supreme Court observed that “[e]xperienced advocates since time beyond memory have emphasized the importance of winnowing out weaker arguments … and focusing on one central issue if possible, or at most on a few key issues.” Jones v. Barnes, 463 U.S. 745, 751–52 (1983). The principle is a simple one: the strongest briefs seldom contain the greatest number of arguments but rather exemplify restraint by selecting and developing the arguments most likely to prevail. Since then, this kernel of Supreme Court wisdom has taken root in the federal courts, especially in the Seventh Circuit, where courts have repeatedly condemned “scattershot,” “kitchen sink,” and “blunderbuss” approaches to briefing as “the antithesis of sound advocacy.” [citations omitted].

The court explained:

The reason is straightforward: weak arguments do not just fail on their own merits—they often weaken stronger ones. As Judge Kennelly of the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois has explained, advocates invariably operate within page limits, so “[t]he more space you use on the less meritorious points, the less you have for the stronger ones.” Hon. Matthew F. Kennelly, Over-Arguing Your Case, 40 No. 2 Litig. 41, 42 (2014). Worse still, spending time on weaker points “detract[s] from the force of your stronger and more significant points,” leaving judges to wonder “why, if those are such good arguments, the lawyers spent so much time on inconsequential points.” Id. Judge Easterbrook has captured the same concern: a brief advancing too many arguments “sends the message that counsel does not think much of any of the claims raised—or perhaps does not believe the court able to separate good arguments from bad.” Max M., 859 F.2d at 1300.

Scale AI requested permission to file an oversized brief.  Permission was granted. The court wrote:

Yet the additional space used in the opening briefs did not meaningfully expand the development of Scale’s strongest arguments or factual allegations. Instead, Scale devoted substantial portions of its briefs to arguments for which it lacked standing to pursue, while leaving several potentially dispositive theories confined to only a sentence or two, often with sparse citation to the administrative record. Had Scale concentrated its fire on the bullseye rather than peppering the entire target, the additional pages it sought—the majority of which were ultimately left unused—might have been devoted to developing the arguments that actually may have mattered.

In conclusion, the court wrote: “In the end, Scale spent too much time raising arguments that could not establish Article III standing nor render Scale eligible for award, even if resolved in its favor. At the same time, Scale spent too little time on arguments that mattered—skimping on both development and citation to, and drawing upon, the administrative record. In other words, rather than concentrating its fire on the bullseye, Scale put its efforts toward issues lying in the outer rings. Following such an approach, Scale failed to meet its high burden of establishing that NGA’s award decision was arbitrary, capricious, an abuse of discretion, or otherwise contrary to law.”