Lawyer's Tea House (Issue 13)

Author: Zhang Shibo, Editor-in-Chief
Publisher:
Publishing Date: 2007-01-01
Features: In China, teahouses have a very long history. They took shape around the Tang Dynasty and gradually developed in scale during the Song Dynasty. By the Ming and Qing Dynasties, they had become fashionable. Throughout history, teahouses have had many names, such as tea houses, tea shops, tea studios, tea stores, tea lounges, tea clubs, and tea art galleries. They also come in various types, such as quiet tea houses for drinking tea and chatting, rustic tea houses specializing in coarse tea, tea houses that also sell snacks and meals, book tea houses with storytelling and singing, chess tea houses for playing chess and cards, and tea art houses that perform tea ceremonies. The basic function of a teahouse is to provide people with a place to drink tea, relax, entertain, and negotiate. However, they have also served as venues for resolving disputes and settling conflicts. In old China, parties often gathered in teahouses to discuss solutions or terms for resolving disputes, a practice known as "having a tea talk" or "having a tea tasting session." Often, mediators or judges would be present to mediate or arbitrate, giving teahouses a somewhat judicial function.
During my visits to various countries, I enjoy visiting local courts not only to observe trials but also to admire their architectural layouts and sculptures and paintings. The courts I have seen vary greatly: some are imposing and majestic, while others are exquisite and delicate; some have an ancient charm, while others are modern and sleek; some evoke a sense of solemnity, while others feel welcoming and peaceful. The basic function of a court is to resolve disputes and maintain social stability under the principles of fairness and justice. For this purpose, courts need both authority and approachability. Ancient court designs often emphasized the former, while modern court designs place greater emphasis on the latter, including providing dedicated areas for lawyers and parties to rest, talk, or even drink tea or coffee. Thus, courts have acquired a touch of teahouse functionality.
Where there is tea, there are teahouses; where there is law, there should be courts. Nowadays, some ultra-luxurious teahouses have high thresholds and intimidating facades, making them off-putting. Similarly, some courts have high thresholds and intimidating facades, causing people to avoid them. Recently, I heard about a "retro" phenomenon in some places, where villagers avoid courts and instead rely on local "elders" to mediate disputes or conduct "divine judgments." This warrants deep reflection for those engaged in legal research and judicial practice.
In my opinion, if teahouses have high thresholds, it may be acceptable for people to resolve their own tea-related needs at home, which harms neither the state nor the people. However, if courts have high thresholds and people are forced to seek their own ways to resolve disputes, it would be disastrous for society.