OK. I admit it. I’m not the typical trial spectator and apparently not even a typical juror, but in trial after high-profile trial I find myself wanting to put a sock in the mouth of prosecutors when they start sarcastically cross-examining defense witnesses, especially expert witnesses.

Today in the Casey Anthony murder trial, prosecutor Jeff Ashton attempted time and again to belittle a Dutch expert in the detection of “touch DNA” by sneering at his lack of a Ph. D. (does Ashton have a Ph. D.? I do), by ridiculing the fact that his company has established its laboratory on a Colorado farm (which is known internationally as the “Crime Farm”), and calling his company a “mom and pop shop” because it was founded jointly with his wife, who is also a DNA expert.

As a Ph. D. and rhetorician, I would advise any lawyer who is cross-examining an expert witness—defense or prosecution—to show respect to all the experts who testify, especially when by definition that individual is an expert in a field in which you are not. I honestly don’t believe it takes a Ph. D. to find it distasteful to have to watch an ill-informed know-it-all try to humiliate people who have distinguished themselves in any field.

So far in the Anthony trial, I’ve gritted my teeth through Ashton’s cross-examination of a Ph. D. forensic entomologist who achieved distinction before the age of 30, a distinguished retired Ph. D. forensic botanist, and now a distinguished expert in touch DNA whose credentials include innovations in the field of DNA amplification and collection of minute, degraded samples of DNA. When Ashton belittled the young-genius entomologist I thought to myself: “He’d better hope there aren’t young jurors who admire this guy for what he’s achieved.” When Ashton belittled the female botanist, I was glad to see that her experience as a university professor and lecturer enabled her to deftly counter all his jabs so that I didn’t need to wonder if there were any retired women professionals on the jury who might find his attitude offensive.

But I’m utterly baffled at Ashton’s attitude toward Richard Eikelenboom. In voir dire, the witness said that Ashton had been rude when he presented himself at the D. A.’s office for deposition and turned him away. Of course, this testimony came outside the jury’s hearing. On the stand Tuesday afternoon, though, it seemed to me as if Ashton’s sarcasm was his last-ditch attempt to imply to the jury that they ought not to listen to his opinion that touch DNA could probably have been found in the Anthony case, especially on the victim’s clothing and the duct tape found at the scene.

Rhetorically speaking—meaning “from the standpoint of the emotional effect on the jury”—I believe Ashton’s stance will convince the jury that he’s either grasping at straws or terrified that the jury will believe Eikelenboom.

I thought about blogging on this topic earlier, because I found Jose Baez’s respectful cross-examination of all the prosecution’s experts, including Haskell (who clearly had no respect for Baez) and Vass, whom he managed to get to admit he believed in magic, to be the appropriate rhetoric.

A bit of advice to Ashton: You may show your contempt for opposing attorneys and clients, but it is dangerous to show the same contempt to distinguished experts who happen to believe that every American is entitled to present a defense and to ask a jury to decide their fate.