Could The Legal Profession Ever Become Extinct?

A Dodo or Licensed Lawyer Circa. 2075?

Could licensed lawyers ever go the way of the Dodo and S & H Green Stamps?

I came across this recent article in the Wall Street Journal about the growing interest by non-traditional law school students in signing up for selected law school courses and seeking non-JD graduate-level law degrees (i.e., a Masters) in discreet areas of the law, such as health care, etc. The article got me wondering whether anything could ever bring about a long-term shift away from a world in which graduate students incur huge debt to obtain JD degrees, sit for an arduous 18 hour bar examination, get their license, only to learn that: (1) there are too few available jobs for newly-minted lawyers; (2) many lawyers will only use a fraction of the information we learned during law school; and (3) although we are “fiduciaries” only about 31-38% of the public trusts their lawyers–anything could cause a glacial shift away from this world into one in which tasks and responsibilities traditionally handled by licensed lawyers are done instead by non-lawyers who may (or may not) have specialized training to enable them to assume that responsibility or perform that task.

While I’m just musing, some wonk has surely crunched the numbers and stands ready with a handy statistic about how much this change has already occurred. After all, NOLO has been around since the 1970s. LegalZoom and similar providers have (apparently successfully) developed products and services specifically designed to omit lawyers from supposedly “simple” transactions such as corporate formation, or the drafting of a trust or will. Sophisticated organizations, including realtor associations, already provide for arbitrations with non-lawyer industry experts serving as the neutrals to resolve a dispute. I also know of potentially expensive and protracted divorce disputes that were resolved with reduced time, expense and pain through the involvement of psychologist-lawyer mediation teams.

Let me be clear about what I am not talking about. Professors, bloggers and writers have discussed ad nauseam the disruptive and earth-shaking changes in the business of law (along with the “business” of teaching lawyers their trade) which have largely occurred over the past half-decade. I neither pretend nor want to contribute to this discussion. This is not about The New Normal, whatever you may think of that label. I don’t care whether or how NOLO or LegalZoom might impact the annual Profits Per Partner at Skadden (it won’t) or the profits of a sole practitioner in Visalia, California (it might), or will cause some random law school to shut its doors.

I’m talking instead about the future of our profession. The future of the idea that we are a civilization that needs expensive intermediaries, people specially trained to do our thinking, drafting and arguing for us. That we are a civilization in which two people who reach an agreement need two (or more) comparatively expensive people to reduce it to writing. Or that we lack the ability to argue effectively on our own behalf, without a mouthpiece, about anything more serious than a small debt or a traffic ticket. Are we still going to be that civilization in the future? Or could we ever evolve into a civilization in which lawyers are those jokers they talk about in history books? “I once saw one!”

What, if anything, does it say about the interest, ability and willingness of the public to commit to become more do-it-ourself with regard to tasks and responsibilities formerly handled exclusively by licensed lawyers? By the same token, what could it say about the interest and willingness of people who once thought they wanted to be a licensed lawyer to elect instead to focus their education on a sub or sub-sub-speciality of law (saving $100,000 + in tuition in the process)?

I’m not suggesting any of this could happen soon. Our systems are not ready for it. For example, while citizens are presently free to represent themselves in civil and criminal courts, I can’t even begin to suggest that it’s a good idea for anybody. I’ve been practicing in courts for 20 years, but it would never (ever) occur to me to represent myself in any criminal matter beyond a speeding ticket (and even then). But, like all things, this could change. If criminal and civil courts ever became pro se-friendly . . . (Don’t laugh. Stop it.)

I’m also not taking the position that a civilization without a legal profession would be better or worse than ours. Just different.

Want Clients? Look To Those Who Care About You Most

One of the first things a business development coach will tell you is to identify people whom you believe can help you in your quest to build a practice. If you’re like me, this might cause you to look around and compile a list of people you think might hire you directly. If you’re an employment lawyer, for example, you might try to identify business owners and human resources directors you know who could have an immediate need for your services and finding a way to market to them.

This is probably not the worst approach. After all, you’re doing something in a calculated effort to build business, which is certainly better than nothing, right?

But better than nothing is not necessarily the best. I’ve lately come to think there is indeed an even better way. Based largely on my own experiences, as well as what I’ve seen with friends and colleagues who truly qualify as “rainmakers,” I believe now that the highest return on effort (ROE), at least when you’re first building your practice, is to leverage those who you are close to and who probably care about you most. Sure the two approaches might overlap; if a close relative happens also to own a business that, as all businesses do, needs employment counsel, then there’s no difference. But what I’m describing here does not involve asking a friend or relative to send you work directly, but allowing that person to act as a conduit to boost your chances of getting business through an introduction or referral.

Let me right away clarify two things. First, what you’re after isn’t a free lunch. You’re not looking for someone to hand you an envelope full of cash; you’re seeking the opportunity to perform quality legal services for a person or business who genuinely needs that legal service. Second, I do not mean leverage in the sense of use. Do not use those closest to you to get ahead. You will feel like a user and your friends and family will feel used. Don’t be a user.

On the other hand, if your relationship and trust are such that you would not hesitate to do something–take a chance, even–to give your friend or relative a boost, then why not give them the same opportunity? I would argue (based on experience I’ve had acting as a conduit to build my friends’ businesses) that the friend or relative who goes out on a limb to help grow his/her friend’s business is the one getting the biggest emotional reward. Have you ever enjoyed giving gifts more than receiving them? Plus, the one getting the business opportunity still has to do the work, while the one who did nothing more than make an introduction or referral gets to sit back and feel good.

What I’m talking about involves a two-step process. First, it requires letting that person close to you know that she can help you and that you’d appreciate that help. This is necessary because it does not immediately occur to everyone that they can help you or that the help is wanted. Some might even hesitate to make an introduction or referral–particularly if they are not familiar with the practice of law–because they are worried it will be viewed as meddling in your business.

The second step requires explanation. You must help those around you understand exactly what you do and who your clients typically are. An easy way to do this is to explain a recent case you handled. If you were successful on behalf of your client (hopefully you were in this particular story), explain how good it made you feel to help that person or business through a tough situation. You want to sell yourself without sounding like your selling yourself. The point is to make that person who knows you, who trusts you, and who would probably like to do whatever he/she can to make your life better understand both that you would appreciate their help and how they can help.

This can be a lot easier if you’re in a position to assist the close friend or relative toward reaching his or her goals first. I’m a big believer in “paying forward,” looking for opportunities to do a good turn for another without any expectation of payback. I know now, in a way I never understood before, that there really is karma when it comes to relationships and good deeds in the business world. Unless they are direct competitors, people generally want to feel like they’ve played an important role in a close friend or relative’s success.

The Dumbest Thing I Did In Law School

The path from the first day of law school to an aspiring lawyer’s first job is an increasingly precarious journey, with a shrinking margin for error. I like to think others can learn from my mistakes, which is why I am going to describe the dumbest thing I did when I was in law school. (I also continue to be inspired by Jordan Rushie’s brutally honest post on the Philly Law Blog specifically on the topic of hubris.)

Like every law school, Loyola (Los Angeles), where I attended, offered classes in Trial Advocacy. Believing I wanted to be a litigator, I took “Trial Ad,”  and had a fabulous adjunct professor (John McNicholas), who is a gifted trial lawyer and extremely successful fellow Loyola alum. I received a great education about how to try a case. The only problem is that the nuts and bolts training I received was not done in an actual courtroom, but in a posh new classroom constructed (at students’ and alumni expense) to look like a courtroom. Other members of the class served as judge and jury.

While I learned how to introduce evidence, lay a foundation, examine and cross-examine witnesses, object, respond to objections, etc., there was none of the extreme pressure, i.e., fear factor, that comes with trying to introduce evidence, examine a witness, etc. in a real court of law, in front of a real judge, with real facts, real victims, real defendants and real consequences. Plus, even though I “tried” a theoretical case during class, there were no bragging rights that came with completing my Trial Ad class; I couldn’t tell prospective employers in an interview that I had any real courtroom experience because, like most law students, I had no real courtroom experience. But imagine how impressive I could sound during an interview if I could say I’d cross-examined a witness in a preliminary hearing!

As it happens, one of the professors at Loyola (at least at that time) had created a special program in conjunction with his connections at the LA City Attorney’s office. Instead of one semester, this trial advocacy class was a full year, the first semester being classroom training much like I received, and during the second semester students would spend a day or two (I can’t remember which) “embedded” in a City Attorney’s office and acting as a prosecutor for criminal preliminary hearings. The cases weren’t all that sexy or complicated–drug possession, perhaps prostitution–but this was the perfect training ground for a future civil litigator or criminal lawyer to develop crucial skills, only with real victims, defendants, witnesses and judges. Even better, while the professor would determine students’ grades for the first semester of classroom training, it would fall to the Deputy City Attorneys to propose a participant’s grade for the second semester. (I never heard about anyone getting below a B, and As were the norm.)

The catch? Of course the program was only open to a limited number of students, and a student who wanted in had to interview for a spot. You know the rest of the story, right? You’re thinking I signed up, totally choked on the interview and didn’t get invited. Or that I missed the deadline to sign up. Or I got in but was kicked out for some ghastly reason or another.

Nope. It was none of these. Instead, even though I recognized it was a great opportunity, I purposely let the time come and go to sign up and interview. Why? Because I was insulted by the fact I was required to interview. I thought it was ridiculous–a needless imposition. It seemed to me that, if I was paying the same tuition as everybody else, I should automatically be allowed to take the class.

In other words, I let some lame, unrealistic expectation stand between me and an opportunity I knew even then was a golden one. Of course my law school girlfriend signed up, interviewed and got in. And she loved it. Learned a lot and had a blast. And she got an A both semesters.

Hear this: I made this mistake so you don’t have to. Don’t do it. Whether it was immaturity, hubris, unconscious fear of rejection (or fear of success)–whatever the reason–don’t let something stupid hang you up and prevent you from seizing a golden opportunity. Don’t disappoint me; I’m watching.

A Tough Time, Those First Couple of Years

I was really impressed by a recent post at Philly Law Blog, in which Jordan Rushie discusses a humbling experience he had early in his law practice. What was so great about the post (and I highly recommend it, as well as the blog generally) was Rushie’s brave willingness to expose the kind of judgmentally-impoverished immaturity most of us have when we first start out. I bet many of us who have graduated into our second, third or fourth decade of practice could, if we were brave enough and our memory was up to it, recall an instance where we used similarly poor judgment.

I can’t speak for doctors or other professionals, but I know the first couple of years practicing law can be a challenging time. I think it stems largely from the following: when we start out (1) we’ve invested 3 years and a pile of money to get a degree which suggests we know what we were doing; (2) our employers and/or clients hire and (hopefully) pay us because we’re supposed to know what we’re doing; (3) the professional and ethical obligations imposed on us are premised on the assumption that we know what we’re doing, BUT (4) we don’t really know what we’re doing. When we get into a situation we’re unprepared to handle, we want so badly not to admit or show that we don’t know what to do, we often punt. While it works sometimes, other times punting can get us into a predicament that’s embarrassing, or worse.

This is compounded by opposing counsel who, if they have any experience at all, will figure out pretty quick that we are brand new and don’t really know what we’re doing. Some will exploit this.

My first deposition was a classic example. I was a first year lawyer, working at an insurance defense firm. While not nearly as prestigious (or well-paying) as BigLaw firms, starting your career representing insured clients in a variety of cases has tremendous value as a training exercise. While you’re not litigating Apple vs. Samsung, you generally get the chance to take depositions, argue motions, handle arbitrations, mediations and settlement conferences–in short, lawyering–from your very first day.

I had sat through a couple of depositions taken by partners in the firm–because God knows you’re not taught deposition skills in law school–and then let loose to take my first deposition of a third-party witness in a fender-bender case. It was so hokey, I think we took the depo at the witness’s home. In any event, I got there first and waited on the doorstep for my opponent to arrive. She did, and seemed friendly enough at first. She had a harried appearance, in her mid-late 40s. I must have looked really green, because pretty early in the conversation she asked “Is this your first deposition?” What was I going to do? Lie? Get offended? Tell her it was none of her business?

The court reporter arrived and swore in the witness. I did fine through the admonitions. But once I started getting to the meat of the testimony my opponent quickly adopted this habit of interjecting, either when she thought my question wasn’t clear or good enough, or to “clear something up” after the witness responded. She never objected to my questions, just went through and “fixed” them as we went along. Of course she fixed them in a way that rendered useless any testimony that might have been useful to my client. I remember thinking at the time that this didn’t seem right, that it wasn’t how the depositions I’d watched had gone, but I didn’t have the balls (at the time) to shut her up.

In the end the transcript of the deposition was pretty useless for purposes of my client’s defense. But it wasn’t the end of the world. If the carrier paid $8,900 to settle the case instead of $8,500 because we didn’t have a great third-party witness deposition to use at trial, it didn’t seem to bother the partner who’d sent me on the depo. He just laughed when I talked to him about it. He said, “Next time, tell her it’s your dime and she’ll get her turn.”

Six Month Travel Sabbatical? Here’s How We Made It Happen

Angkor Wat, Cambodia

One of the greatest things I’ve ever done for myself was to plan and take a sabbatical from my law practice to travel throughout Asia. From October, 2006 through March, 2007, my wife and I traveled through Japan, China, Thailand, Nepal, India, Laos, Cambodia, Vietnam, Singapore, Indonesia (Bali), Australia, New Zealand and French Polynesia (Tahiti and Moorea).

Before, during and since the trip, people (colleagues, family, strangers) expressed a variety of responses to the notion of taking a break 15 years into our law practices to do extended travel. While most were positive (some bordering on a kind of awe), I knew there were a few people who saw the time off and the trip as an extravagant self-indulgence. After all, isn’t that the kind of travel (especially rough, the way we did it) best done right after college, before you get going in your career, start developing clients, etc.?

I thought that way, too, when my wife first proposed it before we got married. But she had dreamt of doing extended travel for years before we met and, since I loved to travel, it wasn’t too long before I was fully on board with the program. But while I am grateful and proud of us for taking the sabbatical and doing the trip, I will say it took a lot of meticulous planning to transform the dream into reality. I thought I would share some of the details, in case others are interested in planning a 6 month or longer travel sabbatical.

1.  Start planning early. We started our serious planning for the time off and trip at least 5 years before our departure. Credit for this planning goes 100% to my wife, Heather. While I was committed in principle to the dream of taking a chunk of time off to travel, I found it hard to think practically about how to make it happen. But I’m really glad we had 5 years to plan, because that time made it possible both to save money and give ample notice to our employers.

2.  Telling the boss. This was in many ways the most important part of the planning process and the aspect that can seem like the biggest challenge (at least it did for me). In my case, I had layers of “bosses” (aka partners) to whom I needed to plausibly sell my dream. Here’s the rub: most of us desire to be so indispensable that our firm cannot thrive without us, which is why we command large salaries, big offices, etc.; at the same time, we may want to have the freedom to pursue a dream like a travel sabbatical. Some (many?) would say that’s not possible, and there’s probably some truth to that. The very definition of indispensable means it would be devastating to my practice to go away for 6 months, largely incommunicado.  In my case, at that time, I was not indispensable. I was still largely a “service partner” and it was possible to hire a senior associate to take over my a good part of my caseload (I’m happy to report she has since been elevated to partner).

But I don’t want to oversimplify this part of the equation. I was (and am) very fortunate to work for a law firm and with a group of lawyers sophisticated enough to embrace the notion of a partner leaving for half a year to go explore the other side of the planet. I fully recognize that many (if not most) law firms and managing partners either cannot or will not permit someone to take such a leave, absent some kind of emergency.

Monkey Forest, Ubud, Bali, Indonesia

In any event, I approached my mentor and senior firm management with the proposal to take a 6 month unpaid leave about a year and a half before I intended to leave. I will admit that I was concerned that, if the request was not well-received, it could impact my advancement and compensation even if I never went, but that was a risk I was willing to take. While nobody received the proposal negatively, it did take the better part of a year before I finally received written “permission” to take the leave.

3.  Save. Save. Save. Even if you travel pretty rough, as we did, it’s still expensive. My wife bought my one major airline ticket which got us to and from Asia and across some major geographic gaps for about $4,000 as my 40th birthday present (Thanks!). I still saved and ultimately spent about $20,000 on the trip. When I use the term “rough” here, it bears clarification. We did not stay in youth hostels–mostly because we’re old and I didn’t want to be that creepy 40 year-old guy hanging around, leering at somebody’s young Swedish girlfriend while my wife contemplated divorce (or found herself leering at the Swedish girl’s boyfriend). So, when I say rough, we tried to find acceptable lodging just above the hostel level, which meant we always had a private, lockable room, and sometimes our own bathroom. Insects and cold showers were not that unusual. We also treated ourselves occasionally to finer lodgings, like over Christmas, when we rubbed shoulders with India’s upper class at a plush resort in Goa.

Taj Mahal, India

4. What to do with your primary residence. This can be a pain in the ass, but it wasn’t for us. Our next door neighbor, a Cal Tech professor, made it possible for us to lease our house, completely furnished, to two Harvard history professors who were on research sabbatical. Not only did the rent cover our mortgage, but they took better care of our house than we usually did. And we became friends! We also had a vacation condo in Santa Barbara and had to find a renter there, too. Again, we found a visiting French scholar doing post-doctorate research at UC Santa Barbara. All I can say is, if you can find academics to rent your house, they make great tenants.

5. The value of good advice. We have never been “guided tour” people, who call a travel agent and let them plan everything. We did that once, in Egypt, and it made a lot of sense. But for our sabbatical, we did 95% of the planning, arrangements, etc. ourselves. This is harder in some regions than others. Traveling solo in China can be very difficult. Fortunately, for some destinations, particularly India, we benefited from some really solid, trustworthy advice and help both inside and outside the host country.

6. Other details. There were a thousand and one other things to plan and do before we left. These included: arranging for care for our 2 cats, finding the right luggage to “lug” around for 6 months, buying a small quantity of clothes we didn’t mind washing and wearing over and over, in a variety of different climates (Cambodia was sweltering, while the hills in northern Vietnam got really chilly), getting visas for destinations that required them and getting necessary vaccinations. I also decided to blog about the trip, so I bought a computer and set that up.

There is a lot to think about if you contemplate taking a travel sabbatical. And it’s not for everyone. I recognize that the rough lodging alone might seem worse than work for many, and I’ll confess I try to travel more comfortably now. But I’m enormously proud that we planned and did the trip and grateful to my wife, our families and employers for making it possible. I came across a quote from Mark Twain that my wife used to describe how she felt about taking the time away and traveling to distant lands. It fits nicely here:

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did. So, throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails.”

Learn One Thing From Every Lawyer You Meet

Experienced lawyers speak about trying to learn something from every case you handle. This is valuable advice, and something most of us probably do without really thinking about it. But I’ve found it more valuable and interesting to try to learn at least one thing each from at least most lawyers I come across in the course of my practice. In many ways our professional education only begins in earnest after we finish law school, pass the bar and start plying our trade. I was fortunate to have a great mentor during these formative first years, but I recognize the reality that not every new lawyer is going to bond with a mentor.

In an odd way, however, every lawyer we encounter in our practice can act as a mentor of sorts and, if we’re perceptive, can open our eyes and help shape us into better lawyers. Let me offer a couple of illustrations. Let’s first take a positive example. Some years back, my partner and I defended a catastrophic product liability case against an older aviation lawyer. This guy, who is now retired, was quite literally a trial legend. He was sharper in his early 80s than most of us at our peak. Our case together resolved pretty early on, but I still had an opportunity to share an almost empty courtroom with him one morning while we waited for our judge to rule in chambers on an ex parte application.

What did I take away from the experience? Probably more than I realize, but what struck me at the time, and has stuck with me since, was the way in which he interacted with the courtroom clerk and bailiff. We’ve all seen how lawyers parade into courts and treat the courtroom staff with . . . let’s call it indifference, or sometimes worse. We litigators often see clerks and bailiffs as impediments to what we’re trying to accomplish. I know at my worst moments I’ve done it. But I saw how my opponent’s manner was different. When he spoke with the clerk and bailiff he engaged them. From his attention and questions, it was obvious he had a genuine interest in their backgrounds, their interests and families. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine he would take a similar interest during voir dire in the prospective jurors who would decide his client’s case.

We all know people who are have this kind interpersonal curiosity—they’re often very successful, as politicians, leaders—or trial lawyers. Why are they so successful? Because being interested—genuinely interested—is the first step in creating a bond, which involves trust. And the ability to garner trust can be among a trial lawyer’s greatest strengths.

Not every lawyer we encounter is worthy of emulation, and that can be a valuable learning experience, too. And we don’t learn only from seasoned lawyers, newbies who have a trait or style can help shape us, if we’re paying attention. In particular I’m thinking of a young associate I came up against a while back. I previously wrote about this guy. On the surface, he had a lot going for him. He seemed intelligent, charming and had scored a job working for an LA-based “Nader Raider” automotive product liability lawyer who boasted a string of six and seven-figure trial verdicts.

It wasn’t too long, however, before it became clear to everyone on our side of the fence that this associate had something of a . . . reckless relationship with the truth. Not only did he make calculated and blatant misrepresentations to our judge, but every telephone call or conversation with him was followed by a letter purportedly “confirming” several things that were either not discussed or never agreed upon. From this lawyer I learned how precious is a lawyer’s reputation for honesty. It is an undeserved gift; one that we must never squander.

Sometimes the way an opponent practices forces us to confront our intuitions about whether something is ethical or appropriate. We learn from this, too. For example, I am presently litigating a civil case against a pretty seasoned lawyer who spent the first half of his 35+ years practicing criminal law. There are numerous “independent” witnesses in our case—witnesses who would not be expected to have any inherent bias in favor of one side or the other. We’ve just wrapped up a long string of depositions, including several such independent witnesses. During these depositions, it has become clear that my opponent has gone out and met in person with every single witness in anticipation of their deposition. In some cases he literally spent hours with them preparing for their deposition.

Undoubtedly, readers will have different views on whether this is appropriate. There is another party in our case and its lawyers are adamant that our opponent’s behavior is the worst kind of slimy. And I’ll admit that my initial reaction was not positive. But after serious reflection, I’ve come around to think it’s not necessarily inappropriate, and could in fact be a prudent thing to do in some circumstances. It obviously leaves the witnesses somewhat vulnerable to cross-examination (“Now, how long did you spend with Mr. So & So preparing for your deposition today?”). On the other hand, my opponent knew before we went on the record what the witness was planning to say, and he could tailor his examination to capitalize on positive aspects, while anticipating and diffusing negative testimony.

I realized, too, that while this kind of interaction with independent witnesses might seem unusual in civil litigation (it is more common to interview witnesses through the medium of a third-party investigator), it is the most natural thing in the world in criminal law, where my opponent cut his teeth. After all, depositions and other prior testimony are rarely available in criminal trials; an interview is often the only way to know what a witness will say before he/she takes the stand. So, while I try to learn something (or a bunch of things) from every case, I also make it a point to try to keep my eyes open and learn something from every lawyer I’m up against.

Keeping Sane When It’s Crunch Time

Big revelation: I was never a model associate. Despite my present willingness to freely dispense advice on how to make your career all that it can be, I was pretty consumed as a young lawyer with setting and adhering to strict boundaries and trying to maintain a work-life balance. While I was relatively efficient with my time and regularly achieved solid results, I never set any records for billing massive hours or being the earliest to arrive or the last to leave the office. My stats were underwhelming, at best.

I recognize now that, in my preoccupation with boundaries and balance, I was just delaying the inevitable realization that ours is just not a profession that conforms well to individual desires for boundaries and balance. We’re in a service industry, and we’re forever beholden to both clients and courts. Both are demanding. Without either, we’re sunk.

Although it’s technically possible to “skate by” as a young lawyer like I often did, there comes a time when reality catches up to you. Once you develop your own clients and cases, you suddenly realize there is no longer a safety net–the buck stops with you. You’re no longer worried about disappointing a partner with the quality of your research or writing in a memo or a brief. Instead, you’re worried about losing the case or the client, or both.

I’ve spent the past decade or so learning to adjust to this new reality. It was harsh at first, a little bit like my experience as a Southern Californian visiting Alaska in January for depositions. But I’ve evolved and actually developed some strategies to cope with the sturm und drang that is inevitable in an active litigation practice.

Recognize It’s Cyclic

The first step I’ve found useful is to be objective and recognize that, for most of us, episodes or periods of extreme stress tend to be cyclic. There will be demanding times and slow times. When I find I’m in a particularly demanding period, I remind myself that this will at some point pass and life will return to normal. At least my practice is cyclic and I know there will come a time when I’m slow again and hungry for excitement. If you are reading this and shaking your head, “no, there’s never a break,” then I think you might need to take a look at changing how you manage your professional life. Seriously.

Communicate With Those Close To You

I’ve only had the experience of being married to another lawyer. But if your spouse or significant other is not a lawyer (or even if they, too, practice) it can be challenging for them to comprehend the extreme stress we experience when we are preparing for trial, or are in trial, or are just too friggin’ busy. Communication can be key to making it through these periods. Even if you bore your family to death describing what you’re working on, they will appreciate being included and better understand the challenges you’re facing and the stress you’re under.

Get Outside And Get Some Exercise

Speaking for myself, the first thing that seems to happen when I go into “lockdown” mode is that I forget all about exercise or diet. I tend to be chained to my desk and I give in and eat a lot of crap I generally avoid when I’m more in balance. If I don’t actively force myself to get outside, I’ll pass several days sitting at my desk, only venturing outdoors long enough to get to and from my office or pick up lunch or dinner. Really unhealthy! I’ve learned, however, if I set my iPhone alarm to go off at 3 in the afternoon, I can force myself to leave the office and walk for at least a half hour. This not only provides a break with some mild exercise, it reminds me there is a world outside  that hasn’t stopped spinning just because I got busy. This small slice of exercise, daylight and reality can be refreshing and helps me not to be so irritable about being so busy.

Look On The Bright Side

Although I’m stressed and missing my family and chained to a desk getting fat, I actually find that our profession is most exciting and rewarding to me when I’m either in trial or getting ready for a trial. There’s something about this time, when a case is (hopefully) starting to really come together and make sense and we are nearing the point of no return that I find stimulating. I try to appreciate these times and, again, remind myself it’s all cyclic and before too long things will slow down and return to “normal.”

Brand New Associates, Read This!

My college roommate and Venture Capital Badass Mark Suster maintains a well-respected VC blog, Both Sides of The Table. He recently quoted some advice his wife, Tania (brilliant, beautiful, Wharton MBA, ex-consultant, serious media chops), gave to a friend who was starting his first real job. I have no idea what kind of job. As I read it, however, I couldn’t help thinking it was the kind of sound advice we all wish we’d received (and, more importantly, followed) when we were brand new lawyers. I can’t resist sharing it. With kind thanks to Tania and Mark, here’s what she said:

Secrets of the real world – stuff I learned the hard way

General Advice

1. Don’t expect constructive feedback without asking directly for it. Most businesses have formal programs in place to give you feedback. Most bosses are too busy to put in the real effort to help you. Many just ask you to fill out the forms for them. It becomes more administrative than constructive. If you ask for feedback in a pleasant, non-defensive way you will likely get it.
2. You won’t really have a mentor unless lightning strikes. But if you seek one out, most talented employees would gladly become your informal mentor. This can be your most valuable career management tool so use it. It can be a great way to build advocates that will move mountains for you in the future.
3. People won’t communicate expectations clearly (you must ask, clarify, ask again). Knowing the expectations of your senior employees (and peers) is invaluable to your success and asking people’s expectations is the clearest way to get them to think about it in the first place. The easiest way to beat expectations is for you and your boss to agree them two-ways and check on progress periodically.
4. Constructive criticism stings, but we all need it. So seek it out, push for real feedback and be open to hearing it whether you agree or not. If you’re defensive you’ll never get real criticism. It’s much easier for your boss to avoid the confrontation or putting the time into thinking through what you could do better.
5. Don’t overly rely on HR. Make your boss and her boss your primary allies. Your career is best navigated though line managers. HR should be able to manage the sensitive information you give them separate from your line managers but in my experience they do not so be careful. They are not your free psychoanalysts.
6. Show up early. You may be a morning person – you may not. But nothing gets noticed more than which employees constantly turn up late. Even if bosses say they don’t care – they do. Nothing tarnishes your reputation more quick than being THAT person. The one always slipping in late.
7. Be humble. Nobody cares where you went to school or how great of a student you were. Get over yourself. Don’t be arrogant. Don’t try to act like a managing partner from day 1. It’s OK to be junior. Nobody expects you to be managing the whole division. In fact, they’ll resent you if you try to act like you are.

Working with Your Boss

Sit down with your boss asap and tell her you want to do an amazing job. Ask her:

• What could I do to exceed your expectations? What have past employees done that made your life much easier? What tips would you pass along from the most successful employees who have had this job?
• What is the worst thing I could do in this job that you want me to avoid?
• Whom should I emulate? Who is great in this role that I should learn from?
• How can I best help you?

What to do in Your First Weeks

• Interview your peers, people in your role/team: set up a meeting and ask them same questions as above, plus:
• How can I best work with my boss, what does she love/hate?
• What mistakes did you make that I can avoid?

What is Your Job, Really?

• Your job is to make your boss’s job easier – to help your boss succeed.  Always have that in mind even if it’s not in your immediate job description
• NEVER bring your boss a problem without bringing him a few potential solutions. Be associated with problem solving, not problems, it creates a positive halo around you
• Say “yes” to work even when don’t want to. Everybody loves employees who take on projects with enthusiasm. The world is filled with people who sigh when assigned work.
• BUT if you do become overwhelmed with work it’s ok to say “I need your help prioritizing my tasks because I have too much on my plate.”  Make it a positive thing. The worst thing is to take on too much work and under-deliver.

Other Notes

• Schedule in your calendar and in your bosses calendar a few check in meetings and ask for feedback and make it a formal conversation. Prepare them in advance by providing a list of the things you’re working on developing and tell them you’d love feedback on how to improve at those things.  You might want to preface with ”I want to learn how I’m doing so I can improve, please give me constructive criticism!” Mostly you don’t want them to feel like these meetings are obligations, reasons for hours of preparations or ways for you to be defensive about your job.
• So take the feedback on and don’t get defensive. The more you get positive measurement on your work the more likely your boss will be aware of it at the annual review time. Make sure to thank you for his time (he is likely busier than you are, after all!)
• After you feel stable in your role and with your relationship with your boss – make sure to get to know your boss’s boss. Don’t let your boss love you but his boss not know who you are! This WILL come in handy in your career but you have to manage this cautiously.

There. Invaluable advice. Read it. Memorize it. Duct tape it to the sun visor in your car.

Getting In Touch With My Inner Associate

If anyone reading this blog has not read–and read often–Associate’s Mind, you must absolutely begin following it. Every post has some nugget of brilliance.

Before I  actually read the blog, I assumed from the title I would encounter either (1) ranting about the misery of being an overworked albeit overpaid BigLaw associate à la the old Greedy Associates message boards;* or (2) posts like “Five Easy Tips To Bill 2,700 Hours Before October!” I couldn’t have been more off-base. Instead, I’ve always found thoughtful, well-written posts offering insight on topics ranging from the profession to litigation strategy to Eastern Philosophy.

And, now that I’ve been a partner in an AmLaw 150 law firm for almost 10 years, I feel qualified to endorse the following observation by the blog’s author, Keith Lee:

“Although frequently people speak of always thinking like a “partner” or “partner-level” thinking when in regards to how one should conduct oneself inside a firm -  reject the notion. Just as in the mind of the master there are few possibilities and in the Beginner’s mind, infinite – most partners have fixed ways of thinking and conducting their practice and processes.

An Associate’s Mind should be flexible and open to new ideas and processes, while being mindful of the guidance of those who have tread the road before him.”

I recognize this tendency in myself to “have fixed ways of thinking and conducting [my] practice and processes,” and I don’t like it. When he refers to the beauty of the “Beginner’s mind,” I think I may know what Lee means: I love to watch how my 4-year-old approaches any new issue, problem or obstacle. Her thinking is always “outside the box” (or whatever cliché you prefer) because she hasn’t yet been trained to think inside the box.

As we gain experience and, hopefully, wisdom in our profession and our life, we should strive to retain the infinite possibilities of the Beginner’s mind.

*Note: I have not read Greedy Associates in many years, so I don’t know if such ranting still persists, though I expect it does.

Is Law School “Worth” The Money? A Reply To Dean Mitchell

In a November 28th editorial in the NY Times, Case Western Reserve University Law School Dean Lawrence E. Mitchell defends the investment in a law school education. He writes:

“I’m a law dean, and I’m proud. And I think it’s time to stop the nonsense. After two years of almost relentless attacks on law schools, a bit of perspective would be nice.”

The gist of Dean Mitchell’s well-crafted apology is that the strongest criticisms are wrongly premised on a prospective lawyer’s first job, i.e., whether there will be an entry-level law job available and how much a first year lawyer will earn, compared with the heavy blanket of debt lawyers will carry into their chosen careers. He argues:

“[T]he focus on first jobs is misplaced. We educate students for a career likely to span 40 to 50 years. . . . Many graduates will find that their legal educations give them the skills to find rich and rewarding lives in business, politics, government, finance, the nonprofit sector, the arts, education and more.the focus on first jobs is misplaced. We educate students for a career likely to span 40 to 50 years. The world is guaranteed to change in unpredictable ways, but that reality doesn’t keep us from planning our lives. Moreover, the career for which we educate students, done through the medium of the law, is a career in leadership and creative problem solving. Many graduates will find that their legal educations give them the skills to find rich and rewarding lives in business, politics, government, finance, the nonprofit sector, the arts, education and more.”

Mitchell makes good points, but I don’t think he goes far enough–in either direction. On the one hand, while he acknowledges that the average graduate of a private law school comes away with $125,000 in debt, I don’t get the sense that Mitchell has any clue what a mountain of debt that heavy feels like. As one who finished school and passed the bar in 1993 owing roughly $80,000, I can tell you it sucked. While I found employment, and got the opportunity to don a suit and tie, hone my skills and learn from a really terrific mentor, the loan payments dug heavily into my $57,600 first year lawyer salary. The drag of “servicing” this debt for the first 10-15 years (or more) should not be lightly brushed aside as a mere inconvenience.

On the other hand, for some (few!), our profession is truly a calling. If someone asked me to honestly answer whether law school is worth the investment of time and A LOT of money, I would answer in the way many successful artists, writers, musicians answer when asked if sacrificing everything to draw, paint, write, cook, etc. is “worth” it: if you honestly can’t imagine living out your life without the experience of practicing law–not just “applying the skills to a career in government or business”–but you literally can’t imagine doing anything else–then law school is absolutely worth it. If you come from means and an extra $50k is waiting to be put to good use, then the law school investment is absolutely worth it.

But if you are like many of us, from middle-class families, who are taking the last few classes needed for your Poli Sci or English (in my case, Philosophy) degree, and you think a career in law “is as good as anything else,” then perhaps you should save your time, (borrowed) money and psyche. Maybe do something else instead.

Dean Mitchell worries that all the “hysteria” (his term) has effectively turned off talented prospective students from law schools that really should go ahead and apply, notwithstanding the cost and dismal job market. He trots out the following example:

“Last spring we accepted an excellent student with a generous financial-aid package that left her with the need to borrow only $5,000 a year. She told us that she thought it would be “irresponsible” to borrow the money. She didn’t attend any law school. I think that was extremely shortsighted, but this prevailing attitude discourages bright students from attending law school.”

Aw, what a shame! Here’s the truth: if that “excellent student” really felt the need to be a lawyer deep enough in her bones, she would have borrowed the $5,000 a year, or panhandled or done something else and found the money. Like a musician who wants to make music–who needs to make music like she needs to breathe–bad enough to starve as a street busker* for a few years, someone who can’t imagine not practicing law will find a way–some way–to make it work.

For everyone else, me included, there’s no harm in doing what Dean Mitchell’s “excellent student” actually did (turns out she was pretty smart): rationally weigh the costs and benefits of borrowing $15,000, or $125,000 and spending 3 years of your life pursuing a dream that might not be the rosy path to success it once was.

I’m glad I struggled through law school and struggled through paying off my law school loans. I’m doing pretty okay now, and I generally like what I do (some parts MUCH MORE than others). But, if you can rationally weigh the alternatives, and can reasonably picture spending the next 30-40 years doing something other than practicing law, then don’t be too quick to rush in. Go ahead, take some time, weigh the alternatives.

*Joe Strummer, for example, who was a street busker for years before he found fame and fortune.