We all play judge more often than we realize. Not in a wood-paneled courtroom with gavels echoing off the walls, but in the quiet court of daily life. Every time someone apologizes to us, explains themselves, or tries to justify a mistake, we are silently weighing evidence. Their words are the facts presented. Their body language, tone, and demeanor? That’s the performance. And no matter how hard we try to be purely rational, we can’t help but notice both.
If I were a judge and a defendant were standing in front of me, I would judge them in part by the way they comport themselves. Most times, how they feel inside will either burst out like a broken dam or seep out like a slow-leaking tire. Regardless, it doesn’t go unnoticed.
So, do I pass judgment based on what’s playing out in front of me, or do I go by the evidence presented in court? Truth is, my judgment will be 90% based on the evidence and 10% on the defendant’s behavior in court.
That 10% matters more than people think. Shame, pretense, remorse, guilt, resignation, defiance, regret for getting caught, and regret for committing the crime are most times indistinguishable, but for the trained eye, they can be easily spotted. A defendant’s demeanor becomes a mirror, reflecting whether their soul is wrestling with truth or merely rehearsing an act.
Evidence vs. Presence
Facts matter. Evidence matters. They are the foundation of justice in a courtroom—and, by extension, of credibility in life. You can’t build a reputation or a future on smoke and mirrors. At some point, the truth of what you’ve done—your work, your choices, your consistency—will be laid out for the world to see.
But facts don’t stand alone. People also judge you by the way you show up in the moment. Are you calm under pressure or defensive at the first hard question? Do you own your mistakes with humility, or do you wear a mask of practiced regret that fools no one?
That’s where the 10% comes in. It’s the unspoken, often unconscious judgment people make when they look at you. It’s not the bulk of the verdict, but it can tilt the scale.
The Silent Language of Character
Emotions are tricky. They leak. You can try to hide behind a smile, but shame has a way of seeping through the cracks. You can put on a tough face, but defiance carries an energy that fills the room. You can say the right words, but if they’re only spoken to cover regret at being caught rather than genuine remorse, it shows.
We’ve all felt it. That sense that someone’s story doesn’t quite align with their spirit. You may not always be able to articulate it, but your intuition picks up on the mismatch. And when there’s alignment—when someone’s evidence and demeanor tell the same story—trust is born.
The Courtroom of Everyday Life
Most of us will never stand before a judge in a literal sense. But every day, we stand before an audience—our families, our friends, our coworkers, our communities. They are the jury, consciously or not, deciding who we are based on two things: what we do (the evidence) and how we show up (the demeanor).
Think about it: a teammate misses a deadline, but shows up with humility, accountability, and a plan to fix it. Compare that to someone who makes excuses, points fingers, or cracks jokes to deflect. Same “crime”—missed deadline. Different demeanor. Different judgment.
Life isn’t just asking for receipts. It’s watching how you hand them over.
Your Evidence and Your Energy
If evidence is 90% of the verdict, then your actions are your testimony. They reveal your discipline, your integrity, your consistency, and your values. That’s the part no amount of clever body language can cover up.
But the remaining 10%? That’s where your energy speaks. That’s where people sense whether you’re genuine, humble, resilient, or bitter. And often, that 10% can reinforce—or completely undermine—the 90%.
The Real Verdict
Here’s the thing: in life, you’re both the defendant and the judge. You’ll be judged by others, sure, but at the end of the day, you’re also judging yourself. When you look in the mirror at night, you know whether the evidence of your actions holds up. You know whether your demeanor matched your heart—or whether you were just putting on a performance.
So let me leave you with this:
Live in such a way that your evidence and your presence agree.
Let your track record speak loudly, and let your spirit back it up. Be the kind of person whose truth doesn’t have to be defended because it’s written all over your life.
Because in the courtroom of life, the verdict that matters most isn’t the one handed down by others. It’s the one you hand down to yourself when you ask the question:
👉 Did I live true today?