Relationship or one-night stand: how law firms view associates (and clients)

David Maister wrote a fascinating article titled, “Do You Really Want Relationships?”  He suggests that lawyers generally say we want relationships with our clients, long-standing interactions that tend to lead to more work in the future, more referrals, fewer challenges on billing, and more effective working relationships.  This, Maister describes as the “romance” view.  However, in practice, lawyers often act on the transactional view of client relations — “one-night-stands” — in which there’s little commitment beyond the immediate project, little trust, and an understanding on both sides that it’s “us” versus “them.”  Do read the article for a fuller discussion of this very interesting topic; it’s a terrific eye-opener.

What I want to talk about today, though, is a short section of the article that discusses viewing firm personnel in the relationship or transactional mode.

“Are you saying,” they ask me, “that I need to show an interest in my subordinates as people and care about their career ambitions?”

“Only if you want them to respond to you,” I reply.  “If your subordinates feel that you are prepared to work at a relationship with them, ensuring that both sides benefit, then they will give you more of what you want.  That’s human nature, not a political or religious point.

“But if they think that you, their superior, are just trying to get out of the deal more of what you want from them?  Harder work, more billable hours, whatever?  Then they will respond in kind.  They will view you as you are viewing them: useful only to the extent that they can get out of it when they want in the short run.

“There will be no long-term loyalty and no commitment to the larger interests of the firm, because you have set the patten that this is truly a temporary transation, not a relationship.  If you treat people as THEM, as objects, or as ‘other,’ they in turn will treat you instrumentally.”

And that, my friends, is the crux of the associate retention problem in big firms.  Maister nailed it, in my opinion.  Associates view partnership as a distant, likely unattainable goal, perhaps even a goal they don’t want to attain.  Firms offer money as the short-term benefit, “greedy associates” are born, and associates become eager to move on to the high bidder, to the firm where they can get the most short-term benefit, figuring that at some point they’ll end up in a firm where they can and will make partner — but that’s down the road after they’ve switched firms a few times.  (Of course, there’s nothing that will motivate a lawyer toward money like facing $100K or more in law school debt, but that’s another thread.)

What can law firms do to encourage good associates to stay?  Create a sense of mutual loyalty.  Pay attention to associates’ professional development, career satisfaction, and concern for the person.  Make sure associates know that they’re not fungible, that they’re part of a team, that they contribute to something important.  Help them recognize meaning in their work — and I’m not talking the do-gooder kind necessarily (though that often keeps lawyers working in public interest despite low pay, lack of resources, etc.), but the kind that comes from practicing an an area of law that fits, taking on advancing responsibilities, receiving appropriate guidance that promotes professional growth.  Say “thank you.”

If law firms do even some of these things, I suspect that associates who fit in the firm will be motivated to do their best and that they’ll want to stick around.  Am I wrong?  I’d love to find out.

Why women are leaving law firms — and why they’re staying.

Red letter day here: two posts in one day.  This is a short one, though, just linking to an article worth reading.

Remember the much-discussed New York Times article titled, “Why Do So Few Women Reach the Top of Big Law Firms?”

A BCG recruiter has written an article that purports to recount a conversation among several counsel/partner-level women asking instead, “Why Are So Many Women Reaching the Top of Law Firms?”  Check it out.  Interesting stuff.

Networking skills

Today’s post is for those of you who are fairly new to the practice and those who hate the idea of networking and business development more than anything else you can imagine.

Is anybody still reading?

Second (perhaps) to legal competence, business development is king of practice.  And to bring in business, it’s important to have a network of contacts who have — or in the future likely will have — legal issues you or your firm can service.  This is not news.

I’ve been doing a lot of networking lately, the formal kind where you go to a meeting armed with business cards and a smile and you leave with a stack of other people’s business cards and a serious question about whether the smilefest was worthwhile.  My take on it is that no “networking” event is, in and of itself, worthwhile.  It’s what happens afterward that makes the difference.  Networking isn’t about getting business on the spot, it’s about developing relationships that will lead to business, directly or indirectly, down the road.  Networking almost always requires the long-term approach. (A foreshadowing: I’ve recently found and will be posting about an article that suggests the relationship view of networking is popular in discussion but almost universally disliked by lawyers in fact.  But that’s for another day.)

A few thoughts on how to network well:

  • Make time and do it.  “Someday” and “later” have a way of never happening.
  • Be prepared with something to say.  Know what the big news story is, the key sports results, and have a positive or thoughtful comment.
  • Be prepared to introduce yourself in 15-20 seconds.  Without stumbling.  This is usually called the “elevator speech.”  Make it interesting.  If it’s boring to say, it’s boring to hear.
  • Carry business cards and have them easily accessible…..
  • ….But don’t offer indiscriminately them at the beginning of a conversation!  It’s far better to chat for a while, to know someone about the person, and then to ask for his or her business card.  What if, horror of horrors, they don’t reciprocate and ask for yours?  Not a problem.  Send them one when you follow up after the event.
  • When someone offers you a business card, look at it before you put it away.  A card is our tangible persona.  Notice it, accord it due respect, and then carefully put it away.
  • Pay attention to the conversation.  Don’t be one of these “power networkers” always looking over the shoulder of your conversational companion, looking for someone more interesting.  YECH.
  • Listen.  That deserves a separate bullet point.  When your companion is talking, that’s your signal to listen to what they’re saying, not to be composing your witty rejoinder.
  • Think about how you can help the person you’re talking with.  Make a contact, offer a lead, or just ask how you might recognize a terrific potential client/customer for her.
  • Don’t assume someone you’re talking to can’t help you.  A conversation may not lead directly to business, but you have no idea who that person may know or where they’ll end up next.
  • Set your intentions before you go (i.e., I will leave with 3 business cards of people I plan to contact again).  And aim for quality over quantity.
  • Follow up afterward.

To make the most of a networking event, it’s important to follow up with the key people with whom you speak.  Because I’m getting awfully tired of breakfasts, lunches, and coffee meetings, I’ve started thinking about other ways to cultivate business relationships (and the perhaps even more valuable social business relationship).  Golf is terrific — for golfers.  But for the rest of us…..

  • Golf.  It’s a cliche for a reason.
  • I like to follow up in writing with some of the people I meet at a networking event.  And yes, I do mean handwritten snail mail, tailored to the individual.  And then I follow up on my follow-up with articles, etc., that are relevant to that person.  Not so much that it’s obnoxious, but enough to make the person feel that I’ve really taken an interest in who they are and what they’re doing.
  • Reserve a table for 6 or 8 for lunch or dinner after your event (if it’s a cocktail party, for example) and invite several of the people you meet to join you.

More soon.

In defense of law firms

I woke up very early this morning, still thinking about the Young Lawyer’s Conundrum (article no longer available) I posted about yesterday and Schiltz’s concept that lawyers who go to law firms will end up engaging in unethical practice — indeed, living unethical lives — because of the law firm culture that pushes endlessly for more money, more billing, dangling the alluring lifestyle that no lawyer ever really has time to enjoy.  And now, here it is well past midnight, and I’m still thinking about it.  With the recognition that Schiltz almost certainly doesn’t mean all law firms have a money-lust culture or that all lawyers who work at law firm with such a culture end up in such a sorry state, I disagree.

Because I believe that perspective is built on past experience, at least to some degree, let me note that I worked in a BigLaw firm for almost 6 years.  A stepchild office, not particularly beloved by the Empire, but BigLaw nonetheless.  Overall, it was a great experience for me, and certainly a learning experience.  And when I left, I went to a mid-sized boutique firm.  Again, a strong learning experience.

There’s a perception that BigLaw lawyers are soulless creatures, rummaging about for more hours in which to cram work, leaving divorce and lonely children in the wake of what ordinary people would call a personal life, what these sad attorneys call a distraction.  But most of the BigLaw people I knew — partners and associates — had marriages about as happy as the rest of us.  They’d leave at 4 sometimes to catch a child’s softball game; they’d take vacations and be essentially unreachable for days on end.  True enough, they’d make up the time by working early mornings and late nights, and it’s certain that they billed an impressive number of hours each year.  But they’d live their lives.  I observed the same thing in the midsized firm.

No doubt the pressure on these lawyers is intense.  No doubt that billing targets (managing “unoptimized time,” in FirmSpeak) continue to rise.  But plenty of evidence exists to prove that not all lawyers get caught in the money/time vise.  Some choose to, like the firm legends who bill 3000-3500 hours a year every year.  Some happen to get trapped, like an excellent lawyer I worked with for a time who did such good work that partners felt he was indispensable on each of his cases, leading him to make super-elite frequent flyer status (over 100K miles) by late February and to leave the firm that spring when he realized that he was too often limited to seeing his family at the airport between trips.  The great majority work hard, really hard, and strive to find some sort of work/life balance that allows them to play as hard as they work.

So why am I defending law firms?  I suppose, at the end of the day, I’m not: I’m defending the individuals who associate and form law firms.  For every firm out there with attributes at all similar to those described in John Grisham’s novels, I’d be willing to bet there are literally hundreds that bear no such resemblance.  Sure, some lawyers become unethical, become people who pad bills and lie whenever it’s expedient to do so… But most simply work harder, play harder, and look for legitimate ways to make some sense out of life at the bar.

That’s why the profession survives even as law itself becomes more and more a business.  And that’s where lawyers are seeking to redefine their practices and habits in view of their values, trying to bring their personal and professional lives together into a single, sustainable, satisfying existence.

Law firm culture leads inextrictably to unethical lawyers?

I’ve just read a staggering article (no longer available) by former Notre Dame law professor (then Dean of the University of St. Thomas Law School, soon to be District Judge) Patrick J. Schiltz.  Published in January 2000 (I know it’s old, but what can I say?  I was busy practicing law when it came out), the article’s thesis is that when a young lawyer goes to work at a law firm, the firm’s money-driven culture will permeate the lawyer’s life and the lawyer will descend into a variety of unethical practices — everything from padding her bills to “forgetting” to produce a damaging document.  The answer, according to Schiltz, is to “avoid getting sucked into the game. Don’t let money become the most important thing in your life. Don’t fall into the trap of measuring your worth as an attorney, or as a human being, by how much money you make.”

Excellent advice.  But does every lawyer who goes to a law firm end up being a greedy, unethical practitioner?  I think not.  I hope not.

We lawyers tend to be a competitive lot.  We don’t like it when someone earns more money or bills more hours than we do.  We’re told that money and billable hours are the route to success, so we run harder and bill faster and strive to earn more.  And I’m inclined to believe that’s the root of the profession’s depression: measuring our lives according to someone else’s ruler.  I’m also inclined to believe that most lawyers do struggle when they come up against the temptation to unethical behavior.  Sure, some people do pad their bills, but I have to believe most don’t.  Instead, they work harder and harder to produce the mounting billable hours, and that leads them to be out of balance in their lives.  Out of balance is out of integrity, because our integrity requires us to live in accord with our values and that isn’t possible when our lives are out of balance.  I believe that’s where the depression comes from.

It’s another lens on the same issue.  Whether the pressure leads to shortcuts that become unethical behavior, as Schiltz argues, or whether it leads to unimaginably long hours that leave no time for family or fun or relaxation, measuring one’s worth by someone else’s ruler always leads to depression, rage, grief.  But those emotions need not be impotent.  Change is possible.

So what’s the answer?  Know your values.  Know why you became a lawyer.  (If it’s because you were a college senior and had to do something and knew you wouldn’t make a good doctor, figure out whether law is really where you belong.)  Evaluate your current practice situation and figure out whether you can adapt to it, or have it adapt to you, in a way that will allow you to live in congruity with your values and your vision.  Trite though it may sound, you have the power to set the measuring stick for your own success: never give that away.  These steps will keep a lawyer in harmony with her values and that will, in turn, prevent her from sliding into the trap of unethical behavior that Schiltz describes.

Lawyers and Divinity School — leaving the law to do good?

I follow Worthwhile Magazine’s blog (no longer available) and found today an interesting story about God in the workplace.  According to the entry, numbers of workers bring God or spirituality or religion to their work, seeking an opportunity to contribute to the common good by bringing their values to their work.  The blog entry cites a New York Times article that reports a swelling in the number of theological seminary students who don’t intend to enter the ministry: according to the article, only about half of those who graduate with a Master in Divinity become parish ministers.

This attracted my attention because I’ve noticed over the years a number of lawyers who leave the law and then enter the seminary.  I can’t point to any statistics, but it’s happened often enough that I began to pay attention every time I’d hear about someone else who took that path.  And of course, I don’t have any statistics on the number of lawyers or former lawyers who actually enter the ministry or what they do after seminary.

So, what does this mean?  Not much, perhaps, as an isolated not-news story.  What’s interesting is the common thread among those who leave the law and study theology: the desire to do good and the sense that such a desire can’t be realized in a traditional legal practice.

I disagree.  I believe it is possible to do good while practicing law, and I believe that many lawyers do just that.  Example: during document review once in a trademark dispute, I ran across correspondence between opposing counsel and an accused infringer.  The infringer wrote that she was closing her store anyway and would be willing to sell the business name (the allegedly infringing use of the mark), and the lawyer’s reply was a kind and respectful offer to purchase the mark for an amount that would be significant to her and a pittance for the mark’s owner.  Big deal?  Not in the big scheme of things.  But it did tell me quite a bit about my opposing counsel and my opposing party.

The key to doing good is knowing what “good” means in any given instance, what values control that good and what values control the practice, and finding a way to make those mesh.  If a lawyer needs to help individuals, to touch people and see their faces, insurance defense isn’t likely the path to that end — but perhaps representing a child as a guardian ad litem is.  Pro bono work is a terrific way to do good while holding down the day job.

Of course, some people need to leave the law to feel that they’re doing good, and that’s fine.  It’s all about options.

Emotion in practice

There’s an interesting article by Steven Keeva in the ABA Journal, entitled “What Tears May Tell: Sometimes It’s Beneficial to Show Emotions When Working With Clients,” the article’s thesis is that showing genuine emotion permits deep interpersonal connection and communication.  The article focuses on two stories: one of a lawyer who cried when recounting the case in which he made an enormous different in a client’s life, and another of a lawyer who cried when his client began talking about her child who had recently died in an accident.

We tend not to think of lawyers showing emotions.  Certainly it’s not appropriate to cry when we’re in a formal professional setting and representing clients.  (Or is it?  Is it ever appropriate to get choked up in court?  Does it play well, and does any concern about how it plays undermine the authenticity of the tears?  I would love to hear feedback on this — suffice it to say that my experience with patent litigation generally didn’t ever move me to tears even in private, so this is an area outside my realm of experience.)

But we do hear of stories — or perhaps see examples — of lawyers expressing anger or loathing.  I’ve been in depositions in which a lawyer I know and like has swiftly morphed from Ms. Affable into an inferno of rage based on a witness’s response to a question… Is that appropriate?  Since it’s sometimes difficult to tell from a cold transcript what emotion lay behind an exchange, is it risky?  I sometimes wonder whether fury is better accepted in the law because it’s a less vulnerable and more powerful emotion than sadness.  Whether it’s a “useful” emotion in practice may be another question altogether, however.

And, in the final analysis, does any of this matter?  Is it possible to be authentic and yet not to express emotions (or particular emotions) while playing the role of a professional?  I think the answer is twofold: first, that authenticity requires awareness of emotion and healthy release at an appropriate time, and second, that determination of an appropriate time may vary dramatically based on the lawyer, the client, and the circumstance.  I think trouble comes when we lose the perception of emotion and bury it deep within ourselves — or when a dam bursts and emotion comes flooding out without reserve.

When did you last feel emotion in practice?  When did you last feel an emotion other than anger (or frustration, annoyance, etc.) in practice?  If you can’t remember…. Perhaps it’s time to do some exploration.  Perhaps the pace of professional life has removed your awareness of emotion, perhaps you’re not deeply connected to what you’re doing, or perhaps your practice simply doesn’t give rise to deep emotion.   But query: since our clients are individuals or are business entities made up of individuals, won’t emotions come into play at some point in every representation?

More questions than answers in this one.  But, as usual, I think Keeva’s article makes excellent points that call for inquiry and self-assessment.