Greg Todd

05/25/2026

Memorial Day is one of the few civic observances that asks for something quieter than celebration.

Not gratitude in the abstract. Not performance. Not argument.

Just remembrance.

In courtrooms, government buildings, and cemeteries across the country, institutions continue because generations before us believed some things were worth defending even at personal cost. Whatever disagreements exist in public life now, Memorial Day remains a reminder that the stability of ordinary life was not created accidentally.

For many families, the cost of that stability was not symbolic. It was permanent.

The holiday is easy to treat as the beginning of summer. But historically, it was intended to preserve memory—to ensure that sacrifice eventually did not disappear beneath comfort, routine, and time.

That is probably still its most important function.

Today is a good day to remember the dead carefully, speak of them honestly, and conduct ourselves with at least some awareness that we inherited more than we built ourselves.

04/28/2026

A recurring mistake in how we talk about society is treating the individual as the smallest meaningful unit—as if everything else is optional, secondary, or constructed afterward.

In practice, that is not how anything durable works.

In litigation, I often see the downstream effects when the basic structures that hold people together begin to weaken. The law can respond to those situations—it can allocate responsibility, impose obligations, and attempt to stabilize outcomes—but it cannot recreate the conditions that were never formed or that have already dissolved.

The family, at its core, functions less like a preference and more like a structure. It is where people first learn obligation, continuity, and what it means to be bound to something beyond immediate choice. Those are not abstract values—they are habits formed over time, usually long before anyone encounters a courtroom.

When those habits are absent, the consequences tend to show up later, and often in ways that law is poorly equipped to address. Courts can manage conflict, but they are not designed to replace the foundational relationships that prevent certain conflicts from arising in the first place.

I wrote a longer piece exploring this idea—why the family may be better understood not as a lifestyle option, but as a necessary structure for any stable society, and what happens when that structure is treated as optional.

It’s a deeper treatment than fits here, but the central point is straightforward: not every constraint is a limitation. Some are the conditions that make anything else possible.

Have you seen situations where the absence of those underlying structures changes the outcome entirely?

https://quidestveritas1.substack.com/p/the-molecule-and-the-void

02/09/2026

The Most Reasonable Person in the Room

One of the hardest conversations I have with clients goes something like this: “I’m being completely reasonable. I don’t know why this keeps dragging on.”

And often—they genuinely believe it.

Over the years, I’ve learned that feeling reasonable and being reasonable aren’t always the same thing.

Sometimes someone believes they’re compromising, while holding onto one (or more) non-negotiable position that makes resolution impossible.

Other times, they’re polite in tone but immovable in substance.
From their seat, the delays and conflict are always someone else’s fault.

From the outside, it’s clear the same issue keeps pulling everyone back into the same fight.

Here’s the hard truth: Disputes don’t usually continue because one side is completely unreasonable.

They continue because both sides are convinced they are right.
Real progress tends to happen only when someone is willing to ask an uncomfortable question: “What if the problem isn’t bad faith—but perspective?”

The clients who resolve matters efficiently aren’t the ones most certain of their own reasonableness.

They’re the ones willing to test that assumption.

🗨️ Have you ever been sure you were being reasonable—only later realizing you weren’t seeing the full picture?

02/06/2026

We’re grateful to share that Polaris Law has been named a Top 3 finalist in the 2026 People’s Choice Contest, and that I’ve also been selected as a finalist for Best Attorney.

This community has honored us many times over the years—nearly a decade now—and that kind of consistency means more than any single award. It reflects trust, relationships, and a shared belief that doing things the right way still matters.

🗳️ Voting is open now
📅 February 4 through February 18, 2026
✅ You can vote once per day, every day

If we’ve represented you, helped you, or earned your confidence in any way, we’d be honored to have your vote.

Thank you for the continued trust and support. We don’t take it for granted.

Welcome to the 2026 People’s Choice Ballot! The top nominees for each category are being voted on from February 4-18, 2026.

11/11/2025

🇺🇸 Veterans Day | Honoring Duty and Service

Today we honor all who have worn our nation’s uniform—men and women who stood ready to defend liberty, uphold peace, and protect one another.

Freedom isn’t an accident of history. It’s the result of courage, discipline, and sacrifice. Every generation inherits the duty to preserve it—not only on distant battlefields, but in how we live, serve, and care for our communities.

To all veterans and military families: thank you. Your example reminds us what service really means.

🗨️ If you have a veteran in your life, feel free to tag them or share their story below—we’d be honored to read it.

11/07/2025

When the Game Becomes the World: What Mafia Teaches Us About Power, Deception, and the Death of Truth

In 1986, a psychology student in Moscow named Dmitry Davidoff devised a party game called Mafia. The premise was simple: a handful of players—the “mafia”—receive secret knowledge. The rest—the “villagers”—do not. The villagers must expose the mafia before the mafia quietly eliminates them.

That’s it. That’s the game.

But behind the simplicity lies a hard truth: Mafia is not just a game. It is a parable of modern society.

The mafia wins not because it argues better, or fights harder, or appeals more persuasively. It wins because it knows what others do not. It possesses hidden knowledge and uses the fog of uncertainty to manipulate, deflect, and divide. The villagers stumble forward, groping for facts while being fed lies—until one day, it’s too late.

Sound familiar?

In our own era—of media conglomerates, algorithmic curation, and information gatekeeping—we are all villagers. A select few hold the informational high ground. They know what happened behind closed doors, what data sits sealed in files, and which topics are quietly off-limits. The rest of us are left guessing. The resemblance to Mafia is not incidental. It is instructive.

I. The Structure of Deception

Major premise: In Mafia, those with hidden knowledge dominate discourse by manipulating the uninformed majority.

Minor premise: In modern society, a small elite controls much of the information flow, curates perception, and suppresses dissent.
Conclusion: The same manipulative dynamics that favor the mafia in the game now operate in real life—with consequences far more serious.

During national emergencies—pandemics, wars, or financial crises—official narratives often arrive with an air of sterile authority. Alternative perspectives, even when offered in good faith, are dismissed, flagged, or quietly buried. The burden of proof is inverted: the dissenter must defend his speech, while the gatekeepers remain above scrutiny.

Public persuasion has become less about truth and more about control. Campaigns no longer persuade; they segment. Platforms no longer inform; they reinforce. Algorithms feed citizens what they most want to hear—until they forget how to think beyond the feed. It’s not dialogue. It’s dopamine.

II. The Inversion of Justice

In Mafia, the innocent are often the first to die—condemned by suspicion rather than evidence. The guilty survive by hiding in confusion and exploiting the villagers’ disarray. In that world, the presumption of innocence is a liability, and clarity is punished.
Is that not our world today?

Reputations are destroyed by accusation alone. Public trials unfold on social media long before the facts are known. Headlines trumpet “narratives,” while retractions, if they come at all, are buried in the fine print. We have built an ecosystem where perception outweighs proof, and those who question consensus risk professional ruin.

In the courtroom, we begin with a presumption of innocence because we understand how fragile truth is when power and passion collide. But when public opinion becomes the court, and algorithms the jury, the protections that anchor justice begin to erode.

III. The Warning

Mafia is more than a clever pastime. It is a civic lesson. A republic cannot endure when truth becomes a strategy rather than a shared pursuit. Once speech is regulated by convenience, once suspicion replaces evidence, once silence is mistaken for virtue—the game is already lost.

Davidoff gave us more than a game.
He gave us a warning.
He just didn’t know it yet.

11/05/2025

I turned 50 this year, and people told me it was a milestone—a moment for reflection. They were right; but today feels bigger. My eldest, Lara, turns 18.

There’s something profound about watching your child cross the line into adulthood. You feel all the years at once... the tiny shoes by the door, the homeschool projects, the laughter, the stubborn streaks, the late-night talks. And suddenly, you realize those moments weren’t just raising a child—they were raising a person.

Eighteen years of laughter, lessons, and love. Watching her grow not just older, but wiser, kinder, and more sure of who she is.

As parents, we think we’re the teachers. But somewhere along the way, our children start showing us how to live—with curiosity, courage, and grace.

Some milestones mark the years. This one marks a life.

Happy 18th, Lara. The world is wide open, and I’ve never been prouder to watch you step into it.

10/27/2025

🧾 Legal Clarity Monday: Can My Kid Choose Which Parent to Live With?

It’s a question family lawyers hear all the time—and the answer might surprise you.

🧒 In Michigan, there’s no magic age where a child gets to “choose” which parent to live with. But their preference can be considered—depending on age, maturity, and context. Michigan courts follow the statutory best interest of the child factors, and one of those is:

🧠 “The reasonable preference of the child, if the court considers the child to be of sufficient age to express preference.”

What does that mean?

A 16-year-old may be heard—especially if their reasons are mature.

A 10-year-old who just wants to stay up later at one house? Not so much.

The child’s input is never the only factor—but it can carry weight.

⚖️ And importantly: Kids are never asked to testify in open court. Judges usually speak with them privately, or via a guardian ad litem.

✅ Bottom line: Your child doesn’t decide—but their voice matters.

🗨️ Curious how courts weigh those preferences? Want to know how this works in real cases? Ask away.

10/15/2025

🧠 Wisdom Wednesday: My Magic Wand Is in the Shop

A client once told me: “I’m being very reasonable. All I want is the house, the kids, the dog… and for him to admit he’s wrong.”

I smiled and said, “Great. So full custody, full equity, and a full confession. Let me grab my magic wand.”

Look—nobody calls a lawyer because life is easy. They call when it’s tangled. When emotions are high. When ChatGPT didn’t fix it.

After nearly 20 years as an attorney in West Michigan, I’ve learned this: People aren’t usually unreasonable. They’re overwhelmed. My job isn’t to judge. It’s to walk with them through the mess—with some wisdom, a little patience, and yes… occasional sarcasm.

Because if we didn’t laugh at some of this, we’d all be crying in mediation.

🗨️ What’s the most “reasonable” unreasonable request you’ve ever heard (or made)?

10/06/2025

⚖️ Legal Clarity Monday: Do Verbal Agreements Count?

In Michigan, a handshake still means something—but not always in court.

We’ve all heard it: “But he promised me.”

Sometimes a verbal agreement can be enforced—but not when the law requires writing.

Under Michigan’s Statute of Frauds, certain promises must be in writing to count. That includes:

- Buying or selling land
- Deals that take more than a year to finish
- Promises to pay someone else’s debt
- Major financial or long-term commitments

That means if someone agrees out loud to sell you a cabin or repay a big loan, the court generally can’t enforce it unless there’s something in writing.

On the other hand, small, short-term agreements—like splitting a repair bill—can still be binding.

👉 The law doesn’t punish good faith—it just requires clarity.
Trust is good. Writing it down is better.

🗨️ Have you ever seen a handshake deal work out—or fall apart?