What Judges Want to Hear—and What You Keep Getting Wrong

Over the years, I’ve heard every kind of sentencing pitch you can imagine.. Some are short and procedural. Others drag on, filled with emotion, desperation, and carefully rehearsed statements. But one pattern comes up again and again—and it rarely works:

The defendant makes themselves the main character.

They talk about their stress, their shame, their anxiety. They tell the court how hard it’s been on their family, their business, their reputation. I’m not saying those things don’t matter—but when they take center stage, you miss the point.

Judges don’t need a reminder that this process is painful. They already know. What they need is perspective.


Stop Centering Yourself

The courtroom isn’t a therapy session. It’s not a press conference. It’s not the place to talk about how much you’ve suffered unless you’ve first demonstrated real awareness of the damage you caused.

Ask yourself:

  • Who was harmed by what I did?
  • Have I acknowledged those people?
  • Have I made any effort—real, tangible effort—to repair that harm?

If your sentencing narrative is only about how this has affected you, you’re not presenting growth. You’re presenting self-pity.


The Question That Changes Everything

One of the most useful exercises I ask clients to do before sentencing is this:

Write down everything you’ve learned about the people your actions affected.

And I don’t mean generalities like “I know I hurt people.” That’s surface-level. I mean specifics. Did someone lose money? Did your actions put stress on a business partner or damage a reputation? Did it affect your employees or your clients? Who had to clean up your mess?

When someone walks into court and says something like:

“I’ve come to realize that when I inflated those numbers, I wasn’t just breaking the law—I was misleading people who trusted me. I’ve written to them, I’ve offered restitution, and I’ve spent the last six months volunteering to help others avoid the same thinking that got me here.”

That statement hits harder than 10 pages of apologies.


Show, Don’t Just Say

Saying “I’ve changed” is meaningless if you can’t point to how. Judges are looking for proof. Not words. Action.

Here are ways people have demonstrated that shift:

  • Writing personal letters of apology (when advised and legally permitted)
  • Getting involved in restorative justice or community service related to the offense
  • Teaching others from lived experience—at schools, community centers, or even inside prison
  • Donating time, not just money, to organizations working in areas tied to the offense

One client I worked with had been involved in financial fraud. He didn’t just write a check and move on—he started mentoring high school students in financial literacy. That wasn’t for optics. It was because he finally understood the damage misinformation and financial greed could cause.

That’s what earned him credibility with the court.


Gratitude Is the Most Underrated Sentencing Strategy

Let me be clear: I’m not asking you to be thankful for being prosecuted. That would be nonsense.

But gratitude—for the people who’ve stood by you, for the wake-up call, for the rare chance to fix what you broke—that’s powerful. And rare.

It shows you’re not just checking boxes. It shows you’ve actually taken time to think. Reflect. Change.

Too many people walk into sentencing thinking it’s about delivering a performance. But the judges I know? They’re trained to spot performances. They’re looking for something real. Gratitude—when it’s earned—is real.


This Is What Real Change Looks Like

When your sentencing statement shifts focus away from you and toward those you affected, the tone changes. The courtroom gets quieter. The judge leans in.

Why?

Because you’re no longer just trying to save yourself. You’re trying to show that the damage done wasn’t the end of your story. That you took responsibility. That you tried to clean up some of the mess—whether or not it changes your sentence.

That lands.


Final Thought

If you’re facing sentencing and all you’re thinking about is how to make the judge feel bad for you, you’re missing the moment.

Stop asking for sympathy. Start showing effort. Show acknowledgment. Show respect for the people you hurt. Show how you’ve tried to fix it.

That’s what earns real respect in court.

Justin Paperny


P. S. If this resonates, join our team this Monday at 1 p.m. Pacific, 4 p.m. Eastern. We host a free webinar to answer questions, share lessons from real cases, and help you avoid the most costly mistakes people make during a government investigation. Bring questions. Come ready to learn.

Read Our New York Times Article

And Lessons From Prison, Free!

Expert Strategies for Excelling in Government Investigations

This is a staging environment