After Yogi Berra’s September 22, 2015 death, the New York Times ran a two-page obituary on him. That alone is a testament to his universal appeal and the sometimes hidden wisdom of his words.

As my tribute to Yogi, I’ve linked this post to the Convocation Address I gave five years ago to the Northwestern University Weinberg College of Arts & Sciences graduating class of 2010. As you’ll see, I organized my remarks around several of Yogi’s priceless comments, hence the title – “Gems from the Diamond.” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DP3Uhiol6Vs) 


National news organizations began working on stories about the verdicts in the Dewey & LeBoeuf case long before the jury’s deliberations ended.

“What are the lessons?” several reporters asked me.

My initial inclination was to state the obvious: Until the jury renders its decision, who can say? But that would be an unfortunately limited way of viewing the tragedy that befell a once noble law firm. In fact, the trial obscured the most important lessons to be learned from the collapse of Dewey & LeBoeuf.

Lesson #1: You Are What You Eat

During the twelve months prior to the firms’ October 2007 merger, Dewey Ballantine hired 30 lateral partners; LeBoeuf Lamb hired 19. The combined firm continued that trend as Dewey & LeBoeuf became one of the top 10 firms in lateral recruiting. By 2011, 50 percent of the firm’s partners were post-2005 laterals into Dewey & LeBoeuf or its predecessors.

A partnership of relative strangers is not well-positioned to withstand adversity.

Lesson #2: Mind the Gap

To accomplish aggressive lateral hiring often means overpaying for talent and offering multi-year compensation promises. By 2012, Dewey & LeBoeuf’s ratio of highest-to-lowest paid equity partners was 20-to-1.

A lopsided, eat-what-you-kill partnership of haves and have-nots has difficulty adhering to a common mission.

Lesson #3: Not All Partners Are Partners

One corollary to a vast income gap within the equity ranks is the resulting partnership-within-a-partnership. As those at the top focus on the short-term interests of a select few, the long-run health of the institution suffers.

A partnership within a partnership can be a dangerous management structure.

Lesson #4: The Perils of Confirmation Bias

Firm leaders and their fellow partners are vulnerable to the same psychological tendencies that afflict us all. When former Dewey chairman Steven H. Davis held fast to his perennial view that better times were just around the corner, fellow partners wanted to believe him.

Magical thinking is not a business strategy.

Lesson #5: Short-termism Can Be Lethal

Short-term thinking dominates our society, even for people who view themselves as long-term strategists. At Dewey, the need to maximize current year partner profits and distribute cash to some partners overwhelmed any long-term vision that Davis sought to pursue.

In the not-so-long run, a firm can die.

Lesson #6: Behavior Follows Incentive Structures

Most firms hire lateral partners because they will add clients and billings. To prove their worth, laterals build client silos to prevent others from developing relationships with “their clients.” Similarly, there’s no incentive for partners in “eat-what-you-kill” firms to mentor young attorneys or facilitate the smooth intergenerational transition of client relationships.

Over time, the whole can become far less than the sum of its parts.

Lesson #7: Disaster Is Closer Than You Think

When the central feature of a firm’s culture is ever-increasing partner profits, even small dips become magnified. Incomes that are staggering to ordinary workers become insufficient to keep restless partners from finding a new place to work.

Death spirals accelerate.

Lesson #8: Underlings Beware

On cross-examination, some of the prosecution’s witnesses testified that at the time they made various accounting adjustments to Dewey’s books, they didn’t think they’d done anything wrong. But now they are parties to plea agreements that could produce prison time.

Deciding that something isn’t wrong is not always the same as determining that it’s right.

Lesson #9: Greed Governs

Who among the Dewey partners received the $150 million in bond proceeds from the firm’s 2010 bond offering? I posed that question a year ago and we still don’t know the answer. During the first five months of 2012 — as the firm was in its death throes — a small group of 25 partners received $21 million while the firm drew down its bank credit lines. Who masterminded that strategy?

In a November 2012 filing with the Dewey bankruptcy court, Steven Davis explained why Dewey collapsed: “While ‘greed’ is a theme…, the litigation that eventually ensues will address the question of whose greed.” (Docket #654) He was referring to some of his former partners who ignored the role that fortuity had played in creating their personal wealth.

Hubris is a powerfully destructive force.

Lesson #10: Superficial Differences Don’t Change Outcomes

For the three years that Dewey has been in the news, many big law firm leaders have been performing the task at which attorneys excel: distinguishing adverse precedent. In great detail, they explain all of the ways that their firms are nothing like Dewey. But they fail to consider the more significant ways in which their firms are similar.

A walk past the graveyard is easier when you whistle. Louder is better. Extremely loud and running is best.


Professor Milan Markovic (Texas A&M) and Dean Jeremy Paul (Northeastern) responded to my recent post analyzing their letters to the New York Times about my Times op-ed.

On September 17, The American Lawyer published Dean Paul’s response (and my reply) here: http://www.americanlawyer.com/home/id=1202737553089/Is-Legal-Education-in-Crisis-A-Dean-Responds?mcode=1202617075486&curindex=0

On September 10, the Tax Prof Blog summary of my earlier post prompted Professor Markovic’s response (and my reply), here: http://taxprof.typepad.com/taxprof_blog/2015/09/more-on-the-ny-times-op-ed-too-many-law-students-too-few-legal-jobs.html

The Tax Prof Blog entry also included a comment from someone identifying himself as Gary Lucas. A person with that name also teaches at Texas A&M. I replied to that one, too.

At this point, I’m content to invoke the legal principle of res ipsa loquitur (“the thing speaks for itself”) and let readers decide this one.



In December 2013, Baruch College freshman Chun Hsien Deng accompanied his new fraternity brothers to the Poconos. He didn’t return.

At first, his death was a regional story in the New York Timeswhich reported on page A29 that law enforcement officials in Pennsylvania were investigating the incident. Deng had been involved in an outdoor game called “The Glass Ceiling” — a metaphor that his Asian-American fraternity used to depict the difficulty of breaking into the American mainstream.

“It involves blindfolding a person and placing a heavy item on his back,” the Times reported in December 2013. “He has to navigate to someone who is calling for him, and as he makes his way, others try to tackle him.”

Now that the investigation has led to murder charges, the story is front page news. I’m not going to repeat the gruesome details. But buried deep in the Times’ latest story is this item that caught my eye: As Deng was in obvious physical distress, his fellow students “reached out to the fraternity’s national president at the time.”

His name is Andy Meng.

Relative Blame

The prosecutor’s charges distinguish defendants based on levels of culpability for Deng’s death. Five people will face third-degree murder charges. How about Andy Meng, the supposed adult whom the students consulted for advice?

Apparently, the charges against Meng involve “hazing and hindering apprehension.” His lawyer proclaimed that Mr. Meng “was not in Pennsylvania at the time of [Deng’s] death, had no role in his medical treatment and did not commit any wrongdoing.”

As you’ll see, silence would have been a better approach.

Role Model Extraordinaire

What did Andy Meng allegedly do?

According to the Times article about the grand jury report, Meng “told [the students] by phone to hide everything showing the group’s symbol.” Evidently, one member told police, established protocol was to “first put away fraternity letters, paddles, banners, etc.”

Maybe the evidence at trial will show that Meng’s first and foremost concern was not to protect the fraternity. Perhaps he urged the students seeking his advice to do the right thing and do it quickly — seek professional medical attention; call an ambulance; get help ASAP. If so, his lawyer hasn’t included anything to that effect in his statement.

More importantly, if Deng gave that advice, the students didn’t follow it. Instead, they wasted valuable time. They fretted about the cost of an ambulance. One member talked to a friend whose grandfather had fallen and died recently. None of them did the obvious — call 9-1-1.

An hour passed before three fraternity members took Deng to the hospital. By then, he was “mumbling, shivering and snoring.” It was too late to save him.

Lessons Never Learned

All of this has now devolved into the ultimate lose-lose-lose situation. Deng died. The cover-up effort to protect the fraternity failed because the police found paddles, signs, and notebooks bearing the fraternity’s logo. And now 37 people face criminal charges, including five young men for third-degree murder.

Andy Meng isn’t among those charged with murder. His alleged response to the students’ plea for guidance produced charges of “hazing and hindering apprehension.”

Meng’s alleged behavior suggests that he wasn’t around to learn the lesson from President Richard Nixon’s fate: If the crime doesn’t get you, the cover-up will. It’s so much easier to the right thing at the outset, but that requires knowing what the right thing is.

For Andy Meng, the correct response to a frantic call from young fraternity brothers in the Poconos on that December night should have been clear — even for someone who “was not in Pennsylvania at the time.”





My August 25 Op-Ed in The New York Times went viral. It became number one on the Times’ “most-emailed” list. It rose to the top-five in “most viewed,” “most shared on Facebook,” and “most tweeted.” Within hours of publication, it generated more than 600 comments.

It also produced letters to the editor, three of which the Times chose to publish on September 2. Two are from law professors whose responses reveal why the current crisis in legal education is so intractable.

Letter #1

Milan Markovic is an associate professor of law at Texas A&M. He argues that current law students will soon have better job prospects because there are fewer of them:

“Not all of these students will graduate and pass the bar, but those who do will face much less competition for legal jobs even if the economy fails to improve.”

Professor Markovic perpetuates the sloppy analysis infecting virtually all academic discussion about law student debt and the crisis in legal education. In particular, his macroeconomic prediction about the fate of future graduates ignores a crucial fact: job opportunities vary dramatically according to school.

A 2018 graduate from Professor Markovic’s school — Texas A&M — will not have employment prospects comparable to students at top schools that regularly place more than 90 percent of their new graduates in full-time long-term bar passage-required positions. In that key category, Texas A&M’s employment rate for 2014 graduates was 52 percent.

Likewise, only three Texas A&M graduates in the class of 2014 began their careers at firms where attorney compensation is highest (that is, firms with more than 100 lawyers). Like the JD-required employment rate, big firm placement is another indicia of a school’s relevant market. That’s not a value judgment; it’s just true.

In fact, Professor Markovic is a living example of the distinct legal education submarkets. In 2006, he graduated from the Georgetown Law Center, which placed 281 of its class of 2014 graduates — more than Texas A&M’s entire 232-member class — in firms of more than 100 lawyers. Before Professor Markovic began teaching in 2010, he spent four years as an associate in two big law firms — Sidley Austin and Baker & Hostetler.

Let’s Run the Experiment

Professor Markovic objects to introducing law school accountability for employment outcomes. He argues that any reduction in federal funding “will not lead to less demand for law school or other graduate programs. Rather, students will turn to the private loan market, and private lenders will be only too happy to lend because graduate school loans — and particularly those allocated to law students and medical students — have historically been very profitable.”

Let’s run that experiment. But first, let’s create something resembling a functional market for legal education. Start by adopting my proposed sliding scale of federal loan guarantees based on each individual law school’s employment outcomes. In such a system, a school’s poor job prospects would mean a reduced loan guarantee amount for its students. Then implement one more change to the present regime: make law school debt dischargeable in bankruptcy.

Will private lenders be “only too happy” to make six-figure loans to students at any marginal law school, including places where fewer than half of graduates are finding jobs requiring a JD? Let a real market decide.

Letter #2

Professor Jeremy Paul is dean at Northeastern University School of Law. His letter to the Times editor notes correctly that many Americans cannot afford legal services and analogizes the situation to doctors.

“No one would say we had an oversupply of medical students if millions of Americans resorted to self-medication and treatment because they could not pay for a doctor,” he writes.

One commenter to Tax Prof Blog countered Professor Paul’s analogy with this one: “How can anyone say there are too many restaurants when there are still so many starving and malnourished people in the world? That’s how 12-year-olds think, not lawyers, which I’ve heard is law school’s reason for being.”

For the indigent needing legal services, there are not enough lawyers. But that’s because our society isn’t willing to pay for them. Based on the funding trends for the Legal Services Corporation and the federal government’s current obsession with austerity, the future in that respect is bleak. Compared to 1985, Congressional appropriations to the LSC are down 50 percent (in constant 2013 dollars).

Other than complain about the government’s failure to make the universal right to counsel in civil cases a priority, I can’t do anything about that problem. Neither can Professor Paul. But politicians’ reluctance to fund legal aid positions does not justify burdening today’s graduates with enormous educational debt for a JD that won’t lead to a paid position requiring that degree.

Experiments with Other People’s Student Loan Money

Professor Paul also observes that some law schools and bar associations are launching “incubator programs aimed at helping law graduates to serve clients of modest means.” That’s true. I was on the committee that developed such a program with the Chicago Bar Foundation. Will they result in more solo practitioners who, over the long-term, can squeeze out a living and a satisfying legal career? No one knows. But the participants in those programs are a drop in the bucket compared to the vast numbers of law graduates annually who can’t find JD-required jobs.

Like Professor Markovic, Dean Paul knows there’s no unitary legal education market. He graduated from Harvard Law School in 1981. For Northeastern Law School — where he has been dean since 2012 — the full-time long-term bar passage-required employment rate for the class of 2014 was 53 percent.

Completing the Circle

Professor Paul’s final observation is that “studies show that a law degree remains a sound investment…”

Which takes us back to the pervasive and persistent academic canard that aggregate data matter to individual decisions about attending particular schools. What study tracks outcomes by individual law school to “show that a law degree remains a sound investment” for graduates of every school?

No such study exists. But for those determined to resist necessary change in the broken system for funding legal education, magical thinking combines with confirmation bias to trump reality every time. Federal student loan subsidies unrelated to student outcomes encourage otherwise thoughtful legal academics to become unabashed salespeople.

Think of it as your tax dollar at work.

Would Professor Markovic and Dean Paul — among many others who similarly ignore the crisis in legal education — counsel their own children to attend a marginal law school that, upon graduation, assured them of six-figure debt but offered only dismal JD-required employment prospects? It probably depends on how they feel about their kids.


Labor Day marks the end of summer. It’s also a time to reflect on our relationship with work. Lawyers should do that more often. In that regard, some big law leaders will find false comfort in their 2015 Am Law Midlevel Associates Survey ranking.

In a recent New York Times Op-Ed, “Rethinking Work,” Swarthmore College Professor Barry Schwartz suggests that the long-held belief that people “work to live” dates to Adam Smith’s 1776 statement in “Wealth of Nations”: “It is in the interest of every man to live as much at his ease as he can.”

Schwartz notes that Smith’s idea helped to shape the scientific management movement that created systems to minimize the need for skill and judgment. As a result, workers found their jobs less meaningful. Over generations, Smith’s words became a self-fulfilling prophecy as worker disengagement became pervasive.

“Rather than exploiting a fact about human nature,” Schwartz writes, “[Smith and his descendants] were creating a fact about human nature.”

The result has been a world in which managers structure tasks so that most workers will never satisfy aspirations essential for job satisfaction. Widespread workplace disengagement — afflicting more than two-thirds of all workers, according to the most recent Gallup poll — has become an accepted fact of life.

Lawyers Take Note

Schwartz’s observations start with those performing menial tasks: “Maybe you’re a call center employee who wants to help customers solve their problems — but you find out that all that matters is how quickly you terminate each call.”

“Or you’re a teacher who wants to educate kids — but you discover that only their test scores matter,” he continues.

And then he takes us to the legal profession: “Or you’re a corporate lawyer who wants to serve his client with care and professionalism — but you learn that racking up billable hours is all that really counts.”

More than Money

Many Americans — especially lawyers who make decent incomes — have the luxury of thinking beyond how they’ll pay for their next meal. But relative affluence is no excuse to avoid the implications of short-term thinking that has taken the legal profession and other noble pursuits to an unfortunate place.

You might think that short-term profit-maximizing managers would heed the studies demonstrating that worker disengagement has a financial cost. But in most big law firms, that hasn’t happened. There’s a reason: Those at the top of the pyramid make a lot of money on eat-what-you-kill business models. They can’t see beyond their own short-term self-interest — which takes them only to their retirement age.

Maintaining their wealth has also been a straightforward proposition: Pull up the ladder while increasing the income gap within equity partnerships. The doubling of big firm leverage ratios since 1985 means that it’s now twice as difficult to become an equity partner in an Am Law 50 firm. Top-to-bottom compensation spreads within most equity partnerships have exploded from three- or four-to-one in 1990 to more than 10-to-1 today. At some firms, it’s 20-to-1.

What Problem?

Then again, maybe things aren’t so bad after all. The most recent Am Law Survey of mid-level associates reports that overall satisfaction among third- through fifth-level associates is its highest in a decade. But here’s the underlying and problematic truth: Big law associates have adjusted to the new normal.

Thirty-one percent of Am Law Survey respondents said they didn’t know what they’d be doing in five years. Only 14 percent expected to make non-equity partner by then. They see the future and have reconciled themselves to the harsh reality that their firms have no place for them in it.

No one feels sorry for big firm associates earning six-figure incomes, but perhaps someone should. As Professor Schwartz observes, work is about much more than the money. In that respect, he offers suggestions that few large firms will adopt: “giving employees more of a say in how they do their jobs… making sure we offer them opportunities to learn and grow… encouraging them to suggest improvements to the work process and listening to what they say.”

I’ll add one specially applicable to big law firms: Provide meaningful career paths that reward talent and don’t make advancement dependent upon the application of arbitrary short-term metrics, such as leverage ratios, billable hours, and client billings.

What’s the Mission?

Schwartz’s suggestions are a sharp contrast to the way most big law firm partners operate. They exclude their young attorneys from firm decision-making processes (other than recruiting new blood to the ranks of those who will leave within five years of their arrival). Compensation structures reward partners who hoard clients rather than mentor and develop talent for the eventual transition of firm business to the next generation. The behavior of partners and the processes of the firm discourage dissent.

“But most important,” Schwartz concludes, “we need to emphasize the ways in which an employee’s work makes other people’s lives at least a little bit better.”

Compare that to the dominant message that most big law firm leaders convey to their associates and fellow partners: We need to emphasize the ways in which an attorney’s work makes current equity partners wealthier.

Law firm leaders can develop solutions, or they can perpetuate the problem. It all starts from the top.


My August 25, 2015 New York Times op-ed on law student debt, law school moral hazard, and the dysfunctional legal education market appears here: “Too Many Law Students, Too Few Legal Jobs.”

In the winter 2015 issue of the American Bankruptcy Institute Law Review, I published a specific proposal for creating a law school accountability: “Bankruptcy and Bad Behavior – The Real Moral Hazard: Law Schools Exploiting Market Dysfunction.” 

Additionally, Amazon is running a promotion for my novel. From August 25 through August 29, you can download the Kindle version of The Partnership – A Novel.