KING & SPALDING’S REVERSAL OF FORTUNE

It was an impossible task. Take a multimillion-dollar a year big law partner with unambiguously conservative Republican credentials and make him look like a combination of Atticus Finch and Clarence Darrow as he pursues the far right’s ideological agenda. Somehow, while working at cross-purposes, Paul Clement and King & Spalding pulled it off. What should have been a non-event became a major story because the firm said yes to Clement’s representation of House Republicans in Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) litigation – and then it said no.

But the issues are more complicated than the headlines and current talking points.

With words befitting the talented advocate that he is, Clement relinquished his lucrative equity partnership saying, “Defending unpopular clients is what lawyers do.”

Dutifully, Hays fell on his sword in expressing the firm’s official non-explanation for its about-face: “inadequate vetting.”

Attorneys across the political spectrum condemned Clement’s former firm while praising him for adherence to the maxim that everyone deserves representation. Even President Clinton’s solicitor general, Seth Waxman, commended his allegiance to the “highest professional and ethical traditions in continuing to represent a client to whom he had committed in this very charged matter.”

Let’s suspend the hyperbole for a moment of analysis and reflection.

— “They’re Not Entitled to Me”

The target audiences for Clement’s lofty rhetoric were the media and the public, not King & Spalding’s Chairman Robert D. Hays, Jr. — the resignation letter’s addressee. Clearly, Clement scored a public relations bullseye.

He began with the suggestion that his personal “thoughts about the merits of DOMA are as irrelevant as my views about the dozens of federal statutes that I defended as Solicitor General.” Not quite. The solicitor general must always take the same side – the government’s; attorneys in private practice can say no. As Harvard Law Professor Alan Dershowitz told my classmates and me 35 years ago: “In our system, everyone is entitled to representation. But that doesn’t mean that everyone is entitled to me.”

When attorneys wrap themselves in their roles as advocates for unpopular people and positions, it’s worth pausing to consider whether such nobility is easier because it coincides with their ideological leanings. Clement urged that “being on the right or wrong side of history is a question for the clients.” But whether to represent a client is always a question for the attorney. Would Clement have taken the other side in DOMA cases? Based on his record, that seems unlikely.

His new home is Bancroft PLLC, now an eight-lawyer firm that looks like a Republican government-in-waiting. Clement’s conservative dots connect easily to his newest employer: beginning with clerk to Justice Scalia to associate in Kenneth W. Starr’s appellate group at Kirkland & Ellis to solicitor general for President George W. Bush. Pursuing a far right rallying cry doesn’t look like much of an ideological stretch. There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s just true.

— What Went Awry?

Wholly apart from any proximity between his client’s position on DOMA and Clement’s personal politics, King & Spalding missteps created the story. If the firm had simply failed to approve Clement’s initial request to take the cases – as big firms often do – no one would have noticed or cared. That didn’t happen, but what did happen at King & Spalding could have arisen elsewhere throughout big law. Here’s how.

First, money matters. DOMA was never a pro bono affair for King & Spalding. In the prevailing big law model, a revenue dollar is a revenue dollar and new business is new business. Cases and deals generating media attention are especially attractive, in part because they help in The American Lawyer’s annual “Best Departments” competition.

The House of Representatives, a high-profile client, agreed to pay a blended rate of $520/hour with taxpayer dollars. Clement charges more than that for his time, but blended means that every lawyer on the case — all the way down to first-year associate — bills out at that $520 hourly rate. Although appellate matters are top-heavy, partners typically control staffing to make money on blended rate deals. (A $500,000 cap was subject to negotiated increases.) The case also offered another win-win possibility: attracting other conservative clients.

Second, someone at King & Spalding underestimated the backlash. I don’t know what Hays meant by “inadequate vetting,” but partners typically brag to firm colleagues about noteworthy new business as they’re trying to land it. Somewhere amidst the backslapping, they can forget other considerations that matter. Here, the intense adverse reaction came swiftly, certainly and, apparently, surprisingly. The surprise would have been a byproduct of myopic revenue generation; magical thinking at the outset can assume away all potentially bad consequences.

Third, once a new client matter is approved, firms typically let the partner in charge finalize the details. I don’t know whether King & Spalding did that here, but I wonder if anyone at the firm other than Clement read the retention agreement prior to its execution. If so, the implications of silencing an entire national law firm (including staff) must have arisen. A gag provision barred everyone in the firm from engaging “in lobbying or advocacy for or against any legislation (i) that is pending before the [House] Committee…[through January 3, 2013], or (ii) that would alter or amend in any way the Defense of Marriage Act and is pending before either the U.S. House of Representatives or the U.S. Senate or any committee of either body….”

Whose idea was that? Private employers can impose lots of restrictions on employees, but some observers have suggested that this sweeping ban violates state law where King & Spalding has offices, including California and New York. In any event, personnel throughout the firm might have been astonished to discover that, as of April 14, their jobs now required that they forego free speech on personal matters near and dear to many of them. The provision certainly didn’t astonish Clement, who signed the agreement on his firm’s behalf.

— The Road Not Taken

Clement concluded with Judge Griffin Bell’s statement that an attorney who undertakes a representation should finish it. But that proposition is far from immutable. Attorneys decide whether to leave clients all the time, but without the underlying morality play that developed here. Examples: A lawyer laterals into a new firm after saying good-bye to clients that would pose a conflict if he brought them along; or the new firm sends an existing client packing to accommodate the lateral’s more lucrative business; or a firm simply jettisons an existing client in favor of a more financially promising one. Here, the ink was barely dry on the April 14 agreement before Clement resigned from his firm eleven days later. If he’d chosen to stay, the client would have faced little hardship in transitioning to replacement counsel.

The firm now weathers a storm of critics who argue that it has forsaken the profession’s finest traditions by abandoning a client with an unpopular position. Some will distort the issues for political gain, as Virginia’s attorney general already has.

Meanwhile, Clement retains a moral high ground that some people have been too quick to give him. Did he consider the gag provision’s breadth, scope, or potential enforcement problems? Would he have counseled a client — any client — to agree to it? Imagine the outcry if tobacco companies tried to prevent all employees of their outside law firms from using weekends and evenings to advocate anti-smoking legislation.

As an outstanding appellate advocate who has been mentioned as a possible U.S. Supreme Court candidate in a Republican administration, Clement knows that final decisions should be based on a complete record that includes all of the evidence. The current judgments identifying the heroes and villains in this saga are premature.

BABY BOOMERS STRIKE AGAIN

Getting old is tough. But not nearly as tough as being young these days.

Recently, the National Law Journal reported that an Am Law  top 20 firm adopted a new policy allowing partners two addtional years before they must “begin giving business to younger colleagues.” Instead of 65, they’ll now have to start that process at 67. (http://www.law.com/jsp/article.jsp?id=1202458271311)

Meanwhile, a prominent 63-year-old white-collar defense attorney left his big firm of 16 years to avoid its mandatory retirement age (65). He declined his old firm’s offer of a two-year exemption that would have given him until 67. (http://legaltimes.typepad.com/blt/2010/05/mark-tuohey-leaves-vinson-elkins-for-brown-rudnick-cites-retirement-policy.html)

And the June ABA Journal includes the following admonition from the organization’s president:

“In August 2007, the ABA adopted a policy rejecting mandatory age-based retirement policies. The recommendation urging this advance is worth considering and adoption by all legal employers.”

Yes, she’s a 60-something baby boomer in a big firm, too.

What’s going on? Forget lip-service paid to the old age-discrimination argument against forced departure of equity partners. That sword of Damocles has floated over the profession forever, yet somehow current big firm leaders replaced their predecessors.

So why the big outcry now? The current chorus reflects an unintended consequence of a flawed biglaw business model: resistance to intergenerational transition. But extending check-out time is a bad move for the firm that does it, the younger attorneys working there, and aging baby boomers unwilling to contemplate life after the law.

Aging rainmakers have books of business that make them indispensable to many large  firms. Why? Throughout biglaw, simplistic metrics (billings, billable hours, and leverage) have determined individual partners’ annual compensation with an eye toward maximizing short-term average profits-per-partner that appear in Am Law‘s annual rankings.

It’s become bad long-term news for the firm. In such a culture, partners have every incentive to retain client responsibilities and none to mentor proteges or promote intergenerational transition. As they age, the old-timers hoard their marbles and threaten to take them elsewhere. Does that sound like a prescription for long-term institutional stability?

What about younger lawyers hoping to inherit clients? Many will find themselves in the position of the wealthy parents’ child awaiting a large bequest. By the time it comes, the kid will be in his 50s. Meanwhile, blockage wreaks havoc all the way down the food chain.

How about the aging attorneys themselves? Encouraging them to deny their own mortality isn’t helpful. Sorry, but once you’re over 65, you may be young at heart, but to the rest of the world, your colorists and/or your combovers aren’t persuasive.

Here’s the painful truth: we baby boomers are not that special. Think you’re indispensable? Put your hand in a pail of water, pull it out, and look at the size of the hole you leave. That’s how indispensable you are. Do you remember any of your own mentors fondly? Well, someday that’s what you’ll be to others — if you truly succeed in the ways that matter most.

Those who have followed this blog from the beginning know that its first series of posts, “PUZZLE PIECES — Parts 1 through 12” (now archived in “CONNECTING THE DOTS”), dramatizes the problem of aging partners who hang on too long.  (https://thebellyofthebeast.wordpress.com/category/connecting-the-dots/) Special ciriticism goes to those who have also inculcated their firms with a business school mentality of misguided metrics. Such baby boomers are now positioning themselves to extract one  final pound of flesh on the way to dotage.

Are these aging leaders who retain literal death grips on their billings positive role models for successors? If the firms themselves don’t survive them, it won’t matter, will it?

IT’S NOT JUST ME

They acknowledge it’s a tough sell.

The co-chairman of a large, well-respected law firm has teamed with the former senior vice president and general counsel of General Electric to write an article that appeared in the May issue of The American Lawyer. The title says it all: “Noblesse Oblige: Firms must teach the younger generation what it means to be a true professional.”  (http://www.law.harvard.edu/programs/plp/pdf/Noblesse_Oblige.pdf)

Here’s the first paragraph.

“Law firms have been moving from loosely managed associations of professionals to disciplined business organizations for more than a generation. This shift has caused an erosion of professional values (lawyers’ traditional commitment to enhancing society) and has increased the focus on economic return (firms’ relentless quest for escalating profits per partner).”

So how did that happen? Why doesn’t the younger generation already know what it means to be a true professional? Who have been their role models?

Better not to ask. Like me, the authors are members of the baby boomer generation that, as a group, bears responsiblity for a culture that some of us hope younger attorneys can change. In other words, do as we now say, not as too many of us did and still do.

Their suggestions start with the toughest job of all: persuading firm partners to move away from “inward-looking economics (more hours, more leverage, more profits, regardless of value)….”

For example, consider the concept of “productivity” — a bill of goods that self-styled legal consultants have sold to willing biglaw buyers for the past two decades. Increasing productivity has become a nice way of saying: “Get your billable hours  up.” In the Great Recession, it has translated into layoffs so that survivors worked harder.

The authors’ approach would revolutionize most firms’ fundamental cultures. The resulting benefits would flow to partners, associates, the unrepresented, and the community.

But it all begins with a willingness to jettison the business school mentality of misguided metrics that has made profits per partner biglaw’s pervasive measuring stick — in substantial part because it has made most biglaw equity partners wealthy beyond their wildest law school dreams.

How will equity partners respond to the news that they’ll have to earn less now for the promise of longer-term non-economic gains to the profession and, I dare say, to their own improved psychological well-being?

Sophocles wrote in Antigone, “No one loves the messenger who brings bad news.”

Shakespeare’s formulations — subsequently condensed to “don’t kill the messenger” — were likewise on point: “Though it be honest, it is never good to bring bad news” (Antony and Cleopatra) and “Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news Hath but a losing office.”  (Henry IV, Part 2.)

And when it comes to a willingness to hear unpleasant news about average equity partner profits, those of us familiar with the profession know too well the pervasive presence of biglaw’s equivalents to Alice in Wonderland’s Queen of Hearts:

“Off with their heads!”

2,000 HOURS

Why is Yale an outlier? Last year, only 35% of its graduates started their careers in large firms. An equal number accepted judicial clerkships; many will eventually join biglaw for a while. Still, Yale has a longstanding pattern of trailing peer institutions that, until this year, routinely placed more than half of their graduating classes directly into big firms.

One explanation is Yale’s public service tradition. Recently, I stumbled onto another: the school encourages candor about associate life in biglaw.

For many reasons — including the quest for perceived status, the urgency of educational loan repayment schedules, and the promise of future riches — most graduates seek initial employment in big firms with stated minimum annual billable hour requirements. Unfortunately, students view such numbers as abstractions.

They don’t pause to consider what it means to say that 2,000 hours has replaced 1,800 as a critical evaluation metric. (A 1958 ABA pamphlet suggested 1,300 as an appropriate yearly goal. Seriously. That would qualify as part-time, non-partner track employment today.)

Yale publishes a brochure that breathes life into the numbers. “The Truth About The Billable Hour” outlines hypothetical workdays and should be required reading for any prospective lawyer.(http://www.law.yale.edu/documents/pdf/CDO_Public/cdo-billable_hour.pdf) 

When commuting, lunch, and bathroom breaks get included, the concept of billing 2,000 client hours assumes new meaning. It also provides perspective on legal consultant Hildebrandt Baker Robbins’s observation in its 2010 Client Advisory to our profession:

“The high point of law firm productivity was in the late 1990s, when average annual billable hours for associates in many firms were hitting 2,300 to 2,500.”

Astronomical billable hours are what Hildebrandt and others in its cottage industry told us was “productivity.” So guess what happened after they advised firms to increase it?

According to Hildebrandt in 2010: “The negative growth in productivity, even during the ‘boom’ years preceding the current downturn when demand was growing at a healthy rate, was driven to some extent by associate pushback on the unsustainable billable hour requirements at many firms.”

“Associate pushback” is a euphemism for skyrocketing attrition rates. Before the Great Recession, average associate attrition from the nation’s largest firms in 2007 had risen to 70% of that year’s new hires. (NALP published the data in its 2008 “Update on Associate Attrition.”) No one cares about that crisis level of turnover now because the demand for new graduates has collapsed and those who have jobs aren’t going anywhere soon — at least, voluntarily.

But if recent surveys are accurate, relatively few of the newly employed winners will find career satisfaction in their current firms. So what will happen after they finish repaying their school loans?

Like earlier crises confronting the profession, we’ll probably ignore that one when we get to it, too.

“SEND THE ELEVATOR BACK DOWN…”

Kevin Spacey regards late actor Jack Lemmon as a key influence in his life. He often quotes Lemmon’s famous remark:

“If you’re lucky enough to have done well, then it’s your responsibility to send the elevator back down.”

I thought about those comments as I read this year’s Am Law 100 listings and then took another look at last year’s. Rather than sending the elevator back down, most biglaw leaders seem to be pulling the ladder up.

A year ago, the editors of American Lawyer observed that since 1999, the number of non-equity partners in Am Law 100 firms increased threefold. But  the equity ranks rose by only one-third. For context, that was a decade when demand for all legal services surged and large firms in particular experienced explosive growth in revenues, headcount, and profitability.

In other words, there was more room everywhere — except at the top, apparently.

The May 2010 issue of American Lawyer noted that as gross revenues for the Am Law 100 fell, average equity partner profits for the group actually increased to over $1.26 million. How did that happen?

Answer: A multi-pronged attack.

First, firms increased productivity — which is another way of saying that some associates lost their jobs so the survivors could bill more hours. Remember Black Thursday in mid-February 2009 — a second St. Valentine’s Day massacre?

Second, they reduced staff, slashed summer programs, deferred or withdrew previous offers to new hires, and cut other expenses.

Finally and less publicly, some firms quietly moved equity partners to income status while putting the brakes on new entrants to the equity ranks. As a result, the number of non-equity partners rose again in 2009. That bulge in the biglaw python now comprises almost 40% of all Am Law 100 law firm partners.

Where will they go?

Maybe someday the biglaw benefactors bankrolling the National Association for Law Placement (NALP) will allow that organization systematically to gather tracking data that will tell us, just as it does for associates. You might think that all of the free market proselytizers in large firms would embrace more transparency on a topic of such central importance to law students trying to make career decisions.

Think again. NALP tried, but the organization ceased collection efforts in December 2009 because firms balked at providing it. In April, a prominent group of judges, professors, and attorneys wrote a letter criticizing NALP’s capitulation. In response, its executive director offered assurances that the board would consider the issue on April 26.

Now what?

25 YEARS…

There are no other lawyers in my family. One of my sons has a rock band, Harper Blynn, that just released its new album, The Loneliest Generation. (http://www.myspace.com/harperblynn)

It’s an anthem for young adults, but it also engages my Beatles-era baby boomer mind. The album’s first track — 25 Years — resonates on many levels. Fortuitously, it also marks the end of a time span that began with the first ever Am Law listing of the nation’s largest firms.

In its 1985 inaugural appearance, there were only 51 Am Law firms. (A tie required expanding the first group from its intended 50.) For a while, the annual lists were of passing interest, mostly to the profession’s voyeurs. But eventually, the rankings assumed a status that revolutionized the profession — in a very big way.

Once upon a time, how much money a person made wasn’t the subject of polite conversation. At least in the large law firm world,  Am Law changed all of that. It didn’t happen overnight, but it happened.

For many firms, a key metric became definitive: average equity partner profits. Wrapped in illusory objectivity, decisions became easier:

“The numbers don’t lie.”

As firm leaders themselves became armed with MBAs, more business school-type metrics and jargon began to displace meaningful discussion about quality lawyering:

“What are your billable hours?”

“What’s the leverage ratio of non-equity lawyers working on the matter?”

“What client billings comprise the ‘business case’ for promoting an attorney to equity partner?”

And now the rhetoric is simpler as the transformation from profession to bottom-line business has become complete:

“A dollar of revenue is a dollar of revenue, period.”

“I’m just trying to run a business.”

Along the way, attorneys at many firms found the road to equity partnership longer and less certain. But things played out well for the winners, although retaining that status became more challenging, too. In 1990, average equity partner profits for the Am Law 100 were $565,000. Last year, in the midst of economic recession, they were still over $1.26 million.

How did all of this affect the culture of many firms? There’s no convenient metric for measuring that impact, but try this one:

In surveys identifying those who are the unhappiest and least satisfied workers in any occupation, lawyers — especially those in  big firms — consistently lead the pack. It’s a race no one wants to win.

Which takes me to the chorus of Harper Blynn’s 25 Years:

“You don’t have to go the lonely way —

— That wrecks your heart with sorrow and leaves your mind in disarray —

Don’t pretend that you don’t know –

         — Twenty-five years….and nothin’ to show.”

SECOND AND THIRD THOUGHTS?

Business school deans searching for professional models that will restore ethical legitimacy to MBA programs and principles aren’t the only ones second-guessing their earlier impacts.

At last week’s annual meeting of the Seventh Circuit Bar Association, Hildebrandt Baker Robbins participated in a panel discussion as a representative of the cottage industry it spawned: law firm management consulting. A 2010 Client Advisory on the legal profession’s immediate past and predicted future included this line:

“In our view, one of the serious misues of metrics in the past few years has been the overreliance on profits per equity partner as the defining index of a firm’s value and quality.”

Great. Now you tell us. Or I should say, now you change your mind. Or do you?

As the 1990-1991 recession decimated a much smaller version of what is now called biglaw, the National Law Journal’s annual survey of the largest 250 firms in 1991 quoted Bradford Hildebrandt, who in 1975 founded the company bearing his name:

“In most firms, current management has never operated within a recession and didn’t know how to deal with it…”

So who could save us from ourselves? Hildebrandt Inc. became one of the leading players in bringing business school principles and MBA-type metrics into law firm management.

By 1996, Mr. Hildebrandt himself had analyzed our situation and offered this assessment in that year’s NLJ 250 issue:

“The real problem of the 1980s was the lax admissions standards of associates of all firms to partnership. The way to fix that now is to make it harder to become a partner. The associate track is longer and more difficult, and you have a very big movement to two-tiered structured partnership.”

Did most big firms heed his advice? And how. It was an easy sale based on the promise of higher equity partner profits. That was the definitive metric, wasn’t it?

Now Hildebrandt offers a new metric to replace profits per equity partner as the key measure of overall firm performance: profit per employee.

What’s the new goal?

“Greater efficiency in the delivery of legal services,” the Advisory asserts.

Does the new guiding metric embody a more extreme version of an approach that has dominated most big firms for the past 20 years? Perhaps. But some proposals for individual partner evaluation hint at the need for a mid-course correction. Instead of billable hours, Hildebrandt suggests client satisfaction ratings. Rather than leverage, employee satisfaction ratings would matter.

Confused? Hildebrandt knows just the consulting firm to help implement these complex and seemingly contradictory metrics:

“As always, we stand ready to assist our clients in negotiating through these new and uncertain waters.”

Thanks so much for all of your help.

WHEN IS BAD NEWS REALLY GOOD NEWS IN DISGUISE?

One of my former undergraduate students sent me a link to a WSJ.com article on the dismal job market for graduating law students. (http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704866204575224350917718446.html)

Of course, the focus is where it always is: on reduced hiring at the nation’s largest firms.

This is not news to most of us in the profession. Big firms started laying off associates in big numbers shortly after the financial collapse in the fall of 2008. Last year, the Am Law 100 saw its first year-over-year reduction in attorney headcount since 1993. (http://www.law.com/jsp/tal/PubArticleTAL.jsp?id=1202448340864&Lessons_of_The_Am_Law_&hbxlogin=1)

Large firms always get the editorial lead on this subject, in part because that’s where most top students in the best law schools seek to begin their careers. Why they flock in that direction is a complicated question. Herd behavior accounts for some of it, but one factor has assumed overwhelming power in their decision-making calculus: When law degrees come with six-figure student loan debt, financial reality pushes graduates toward biglaw, which shows them the money.

Here’s the hitch. Few know what awaits them if they land one of those increasingly elusive starting positions. For some, the fit works. But for too many, the surprise turns out to be unpleasant.

In its 2007 “Pulse of the Profession” survey, the ABA found that big firm attorneys were unhappier with their careers than any lawyer group. Only 44% gave a positive response to the statement: “I am satisfied with my career.”  (http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/pulse_of_the_legal_professionunhappiest)

In contrast, lawyers working in the public sector reported an overall satisfaction rate of 68%.

Getting a public sector law job isn’t easy, either. But it’s curious that the nation’s largest firms continue to dominate the discussion, even though the biggest 250 firms employ fewer than 15% of all attorneys. When you consider associate and non-equity partner attrition rates from those places, the myopia becomes even more puzzling. Very few graduates who begin their careers in such places will stay for more than a few years.

So for current and prospective law students (and attorneys who have lost their jobs), short-term unemployment could become a catalyst for reassessment that leads to longer-term personal rewards.

But I also understand human nature. In the end, the shiny brass ring will continue to blind many people. American Lawyer recently reported that as headcount and average gross revenues declined in 2009 for the Am Law 100, average equity profits per partner increased — to $1.26 million.

How, you might ask, could that happen and what does it mean for those on the inside? I have my own views; they’re in my new novel, The Partnership. (http://www.amazon.com/Partnership-Novel-Steven-J-Harper/dp/0984369104/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1273000077&sr=1-1)

SKINNING CATS – continued

Sometimes timing is everything.

Last week, in “Skinning Cats in Different Ways,” I wrote about the efforts of the state legislature to undermine the University of Maryland’s law school clinic. The clinic’s environmental lawsuit against Perdue Farms and some of its chicken suppliers prompted Jim Perdue himself to visit Annapolis and plead the case for preserving important state financial interests.

Now, as a gigantic oil slick oozes its way toward the nation’s Gulf coast, the National Law Journal reports that a Louisiana legislator has offered a suggestion even more draconian than the one eventually abandoned in Maryland.(http://www.law.com/jsp/nlj/PubArticleNLJ.jsp?id=1202457607971&Battleground_over_law_school_clinics_moves_to_Louisiana)

Senator Robert Adley (R-Benton — a 3,000-member community in a remote corner of northwestern Louisiana and far from the Gulf of Mexico) wants the state to prohibit law clinics at public and private colleges receiving state money from suing government agencies, individuals, and businesses for financial damages.

Apparently, Tulane is the target of this legislative attack that would include LSU. When a Baton Rouge reporter sought comment last month, the president of the Louisiana Chemical Association said that hurting LSU was not the bill’s intent:

“I know of no beefs with any of the other schools and we are not trying to impede their use of law clinics to give law students broad practical experience prior to graduation…Tulane’s environmental law clinic has consistently brought suits against industries and Louisiana state agencies and takes credit on its Web site for preventing hundreds of millions of dollars from coming to Louisiana.” ((http://www.2theadvocate.com/news/90065107.html?showAll=y&c=y)

A third-year LSU law student quoted in the article made the point with elegant simplicity:

“At first blush, it seems like a way for corporations to prevent themselves from getting sued. If you’re not doing something wrong, then why are you worried?”

She’s right. Law clinics aren’t roving bands of policymakers in search of causes they can use to remake the world. They pursue legal claims that might not otherwise see the light of day. They succeed because judges and juries determine that the defendants against whom they prevail have violated the law.

Here’s a better suggestion for Senator Adley: Just identify every current law or regulation that your corporate constituents don’t like and propose repealing all of them. It’s far more transparent. After all, what’s the point of enacting rules to pursue policies and protect rights if you’re simultaneously barring law clinics from enforcing them on behalf of those who lack the means, independence, or fortitude to do so?

LIFE IMITATES ART

Sunday’s lead article in the Business section of the May 2 NY Times brought to mind a passage in my forthcoming novel, The Partnership. It’s a legal thriller set against a power struggle at a fictional firm that has embraced biglaw’s twenty-year transformation from a profession to a bottom-line business.

First, the passage from my book, which will be available later this month:

“The crash of 2008 stalled a great run for most large firm equity partners. A year earlier, Michelman & Samson’s average partner profits had grown to almost $3 million. The reasons were obvious: the ratio of all attorneys to equity partners — a number that managers called leverage — doubled from three to six in only ten years. The firm tripled in size to more than two thousand attorneys in a dozen offices around the world. Average hours climbed as yearly billing rate increases far outstripped inflation. Trees, it seemed, really did grow to the sky.

“Michelman & Samson’s balanced portfolio of client work had historically provided protection against the vagaries of the business cycle…For some reason that mystified the firm’s Executive Committee, diversification wasn’t working as well this time. The lucrative corporate venture capital practice had led the firm’s fortunes upward, and it experienced the leading edge of the coming collapse. The transactional pipeline dried up first…The restructuring group picked up some of the slack, but not enough to maintain the historic profits of earlier times. Even worse, the uproar over executive compensation threatened to spill over into bankruptcy courts….”

Which brings me to the Sunday Times article. (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/02/business/02workout.html?) Throughout the current Great Recession, some lucrative pockets of biglaw have fared pretty well. For example, overall average equity partner profits of the Am Law 100 (released last Thursday) actually rose slightly in 2009 — even though gross revenue, headcount, and revenue per lawyer fell.

Is the leverage-billable hours model that produces such results sustainable? I don’t know, but it faces a new assault. Kenneth Feinberg, the Washington lawyer who serves as the “pay czar” for banks receiving tax dollars, received another assignment last June. The court in the Lehman bankruptcy appointed him to monitor attorneys’ fees in the case.

“Unemployment is over 9 percent, and to be paying first-year associates $500 an hour angers the public,” the Times quotes him. “People read about all of this and say that lawyers and the legal system are one more example of Wall Street out of control.”

The 77-year-old dean of the bankruptcy bar, Harvey Miller, responded with a spirited defense of the $164 million that his firm reportedly has incurred as Lehman’s lead counsel since its 2008 bankruptcy filing:

“If you had cancer and you were going into an operation, while you were lying on the table, would you look at the surgeon and say, ‘I’d like a 10 percent discount…This is not a public, charitable event.'”

Miller sat on his firm’s management committee for 25 years. Where should I begin an analysis of what his remarks reveal about my once noble profession? 

Here’s one place: American Lawyer reported last week that the average equity partner profits of Miller’s firm — Weil Gotshal — increased to more than $2.3 million in 2009; their percentage of equity partners declined.

Here’s another: how many doctors make more than $1,000 an hour?

Here’s yet another: the Times noted that Miller’s firm also received $16 million in connection with the General Motors bankruptcy. Weren’t “public” taxpayer dollars involved in that one?

More thoughtful biglaw law attorneys declined to take the bait and refused comment to the Times.

Harvey won’t enjoy my novel.

SKINNING CATS IN DIFFERENT WAYS

For those who think that important lawsuits are won only in courtrooms, look at what’s happening in Maryland.

In March, the University of Maryland’s law clinic filed suit on behalf of an evironmental group against Perdue Farms — one of the state’s largest employers — and an 80,000 poultry farm. The complaint alleges illegal discharge of pollution into rivers feeding the Chesapeake Bay. So far, it sounds like just another case, right?

Wrong. Two weeks later, the Maryland Senate passed a budget amendment that would have required the university’s law clinic to disclose its clients, expenditures, and other information about its cases for the past two years — including pending matters. If it refused, the university would lose $500,000 in state funding.

Any lawyer in private practice will confirm the chilling effect that such inroads into sacred confidentiality obligations would have on them and their clients. One can imagine the uproar that would follow if someone asked a corporate client to disclose how it was spending its money to prosecute a claim or defend itself.

After considering even stricter measures and bigger monetary penalties, the Maryland House of Delegates approved the Senate bill’s disclosure requirement, but removed the funding cut.

According to the NYTimes, a Perdue spokesman said that the company had done no lobbying in support of the legislation, but its chairman, Jim Perdue, went to Annapolis in early March to tell lawmakers that cases like the clinic’s posed “one of the largest threats to the family farm in the last 50 years.” (http://www.nytimes.com/gwire/2010/04/08/08greenwire-law-students-role-in-farm-pollution-suit-anger-96381.html). 

Apparently, legal aid clinics face similar challenges to their independence in Louisiana, Michigan, and elsewhere.

Those supporting the requirements argued that state tax dollars shouldn’t be used to undermine important economic interests, one of which is a big employer.

If the issue is a state’s financial interests, I suppose similar objections could apply to legal aid clinics that defend the accused.  After all, the state is paying to convict them, right?

Maybe we should go beyond law school clinics and eliminate state-subsidized public defender programs. too.

Or maybe the real problem is the ability of private players to control an entire state’s legislative process.

LIZARD-BRAIN REMNANTS…

Tuesday night’s Nova episode on PBS –“Mind Over Money” (April 27) — waded into the continuing debate over what went wrong to produce the recent economic collapse. Coincidentally, Goldman Sachs executives spent the day explaining themselves to the Senate Subcommittee on Investigations. Meanwhile, biglaw leaders around the world anxiously await the April 29 release of this year’s Am Law 100 rankings.

Maybe these things are related.

Nova interviewed scientific researchers who think they’ve identified the human brain’s unique response to money. MRIs show that it activates deep recesses in the mind — areas that evolutionists believe we share with the earliest forms of life, such as lizards.

Once engaged, those impulses become as powerful as any addiction and as strong as the instincts for sex and survival. They dominate our actions in ways that explain why, for example, people hold on to losing stocks too long and new participants in an auction experiment routinely bid more than $20 for a twenty-dollar bill. It’s not just that the efficient markets model of economic rationality fails; affirmatively irrational behavior takes over.

If these researchers are correct, money itself triggers something that can combine with competition and ego to produce a dangerous mix. When a subconscious reaction to dollar signs overrides rational thought, the resulting decisions can be — shall we say — problematic.

What’s the connection to Goldman Sachs and the Am Law 100? I’m not suggesting that obviously intelligent people at GS did anything illegal. Judges and juries will make that determination someday. Nor am I criticizing leaders of large or small law firms who pay attention to revenues and costs because they need to make a living, just like everybody else. The practice of law has never been an eleemosynary endeavor and never will be.

Still, the research shines an interesting light on the intersection of human behavior and free market capitalism. Just as stratospheric quarterly profits propelled Goldman to develop novel vehicles that continued to feed its insatiable profits beast, perhaps the fixation on annual Am Law rankings triggers an inner impulse in biglaw leaders that even they themselves don’t realize. When a money-laden thought — like average equity profits per partner — becomes a definitive decisional metric that defines professional standing and institutional culture, does reason become a casualty?

If so, what’s the antidote?

Perhaps it doesn’t matter. There’s not much incentive to recover from a socially acceptable addiction that defines who too many of us are.

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 12

[Concluding the imaginary cross-examination of a real senior partner profiled in the April 2010 issue of ABA Journal (http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/not_done_yet) — and connecting the final dots to the ongoing associate compensation squeeze-plays…]

Q: “Adversity tests leadership, doesn’t it?”

Partner: “I agree.”

Q: “And 2009 was a tough year, wasn’t it?”

Partner: “It was a difficult time for many people.”

Q: “For many people — but not for your firm’s equity partners, right?”

Partner: “Wrong. Our revenues were down and the decisions we made to let people go were agonizing.”

Q: “But not so agonizing that they slowed your mission to keep billable hours up and average equity partner profits at $2 million a year, correct?”

Partner: “Some things can’t be measured in dollars.”

Q: “True. But Am Law reported recently that your firm’s 2009 average equity partner profits were just under $2 million, right?”

Partner: “That’s the report.”

Q: “If we return to your earlier comments about free market capitalism, who has borne the owner’s risk to your firm in the current economic downturn, Dechert’s equity partners who on average saw their incomes drop from $2.35 to $2 million a year, or the salaried workers — associates, non-equity partners, and staff — who lost their jobs in 2009?”

Partner: “We shared the pain. But we’re no different from other large, successful law firms. Someone running another big firm made the point three years ago: We have to keep our stock price high.” http://www.mlaglobal.com/articles/JCashmanMayerBrownCutsTrib.pdf; http://blogs.wsj.com/law/2007/03/02/more-on-the-mayer-brown-departures/tab/article/

Q: “When you say other large, successful firms, are you referring to the ones that, according to a NY Times April 1 article  (http://dealbook.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/04/01/at-law-firms-reconsidering-the-model-for-associates-pay/), are now developing ways to cut associate salaries?”

Partner: “I can’t speak to what other firms are doing.”

Q: “That article wasn’t an April Fool’s Day joke, was it? Underlying all of those efforts is the mission to preserve equity partners’ seven-figure incomes, isn’t it?”

Partner: “If you say so.”

Q: “And now many people like you — aging senior partners who’ve become accustomed to making millions — don’t know what to do next with your lives, do you?”

Partner: “Speaking for myself, time has crept up on me.”

Q: “You were so focused on pulling up the ladder as a way to protect what you had that you forgot to plan your own exit strategy, didn’t you?”

Partner: No answer.

Q: “Justice can be ironic, can’t it? You don’t have to answer that. No further questions at this time.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 11

[The imaginary cross-examination of a real biglaw senior partner continues…]

Q: “By the way, when Am Law reports a firm’s average equity partner profits, that doesn’t tell us anything about the range, does it?”

Partner: “An average is an average. A range is a range.”

Q: “In some big firms, the range can be pretty substantial, can’t it?”

Partner: “Sure.”

Q: “In fact, at the top of elite firms like yours, the equity partners typically earn several million dollars a year more than the average, right?”

Partner: “We don’t comment on such matters.”

Q: “The point is, when you say ‘everything is relative,’ that’s true even within the equity partnership, right?”

Partner: “What’s your point?”

Q: “Even among the select group of winners who make it into the equity partnership, the even fewer who go on to become firm leaders — as you did — are the real success stories, aren’t they?”

Partner: “That’s the American way, isn’t it? A successful business depends on leaders and the market rewards us accordingly. In that sense, we all become products of the decisions we make.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 10

[Continuing the imaginary cross-examination of a real senior partner profiled in the April 2010 issue of the ABA Journal(http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/not_done_yet)]

Q: “All right. Let’s look at 2009. In February, your firm cut 19 attorneys from its U.S offices and, a few weeks later, another 10 staffers?”

Partner: “We weren’t alone. Surely, you remember Black Thursday of that month — 800 biglaw attorneys and staff fired in a single day; over 1100 attorneys for the week.”

Q: “In March 2009, you said good-bye to 125 people — 63 attorneys and other time keepers and 62 adminsitrative staff?”

Partner: “With markets crashing, the firm couldn’t keep unproductive people on the payroll.”

Q: “And firms like yours couldn’t let their billable hours drop below 2,000 a  year, could they?”

Partner: “I don’t agree with that.”

Q: “Your firm’s responses for the NALP Directory said its minimum billable hours expectation for associates in 2008 was 1,950 in Philadelphia and 2,000 in New York, right?”

Partner: “So what? That’s not unique. Our press release explained that we’ve tried to match our resources with our projected needs.”

Q: “That press release came in July 2009, when your firm reportedly terminated another 25 associates along with staff and paralegal positions, right?”

Partner: “You’re citing Law.com and Above The Law.” 

Q: “And you’ve been shrinking your summer associate programs — in your Philadelphia headquarters, for example, from 37 in 2008 to 23 in 2009 to 13 in 2010, according to your NALP report?”

Partner: “If you say so.”

Q: “And in New York from 25 in 2009 to 12 this year?”

Partner: “Whatever the report says.”

Q: “Did your firm ever worry that it might be throwing its furniture into the fireplace in an effort to keep the house warm?”

Partner: “We’re keeping the best people. I’m not concerned.”

Q: “And you’re trying to keep the billable time of those survivors above 2,000 hours annually, aren’t you?

Partner: “That’s your characterization and conclusion, not mine.”

Q: “When you joined the firm in the early 1970’s, there’s wasn’t as much discussion about billable hours, which for most big firms in those days averaged around 1,700 a year, right?”

Partner: “It was a less important metric then. Times have changed.”

Q: “And another metric — leverage — now dictates that associates work eight years at your firm before receiving even non-equity partner consideration, right?”

Partner: “That’s what our NALP submission states.”

Q: “And the only thing your NALP submission says about the prospects for advancement to equity partnership thereafter is ‘CBC’ — case-by-case, right?”

Partner: “I don’t think we’re unusual in that respect. There are exceptions, but the pyramid is the prevailing large firm business model today. It endures because it works.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 9

Q: “That’s a good way to put it. ‘Everything is relative,’ as you say. In the case of your firm, keeping average equity partner profits above $2 million required you to take a number of cost-cutting actions in 2008, right?”

Partner: “Yes.”

Q: “According to Law.com, in March 2008, you laid off 13 associates in the finance and real estate practice and then later gave them the option of taking temporary positions in other practice groups?”

Partner: “That was the report.”

Q: “In December 2008, you cut 72 U.S. adminsitrative positions and started the termination process for another 15 staff positions in London?”

Partner: “That was the report.”

Q: “And you managed to stay above $2 million in average equity partner profits for 2008, didn’t you?”

Partner: “That’s what the American Lawyer  reported. But look at 2009 if you want to understand the challenges we faced in trying to keep our position in the Am Law 100 rankings.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 8

Recession? What recession?

On Monday, April 12, 2010, the National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER), the non-profit group that officially marks the beginning and end of economic downturns, announced that the recession — which started in December 2007 — is not yet over. http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/13/business/economy/13recession.html

With the DOW Industrials back above 11,000 for the first time since September 2008 and most economists generally bullish on the future, how does biglaw view the situation?

Across the board, attorney hiring remains way down. Many firms that offered full-time jobs to new graduates deferred starting dates into 2011; a few even withdrew offers. Some firms abandoned altogether the second-year student summer programs that have anchored big firm recruiting for more than 40 years. The surviving programs for summer 2010 are a fraction of their 2007 sizes. Pretty bleak, right?

Maybe not for everyone. For a peek inside, consider the ongoing fictional cross-examination of the very real Dechert LLP senior partner profiled in the April ABA Journal (“Not Done Yet”).

(By the way, the data in the questions are real. As Yogi Berra would say, “You can look it up” in the cited sources.)

Q: “You said that the enormous increases since 1995 in equity partner incomes at your firm and others like it reflect ‘free market capitalism’ at work, right?”

Partner: “Yes. Any business enterprise maximizes profits.”

Q: “In capitalism, does the owner bear any risks?”

Partner: “Sure. The owner bears the ultimate risks of the enterprise. If the business fails, the owner’s investment is wiped out.”

Q: “The owner bears the risk of economic setbacks during downswings in the business cycle, right?”

Partner: “Yes.”

Q: “But in the most recent economic collapse, your firm’s owners  — the equity partners — bore very little of that risk, didn’t they?”

A: “I don’t agree. Even the Am Law data show otherwise.”

Q: “Let’s take a look. Am Law reported Dechert’s average equity partner earnings went from an all-time high of $2.35 million in 2007 to $2.145 million in 2008. Is that what you’re referring to?”

Partner: “That’s a decline of almost 9%!”

Q: “A decline to levels that remain astronomical, right?”

Partner: “Everything is relative. 2009 was even worse.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 7

With the added context of David Brooks’ article on leadership, “The Humble Hound,” (NY Times, April 9, 2010) (http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/09/opinion/09brooks.html), we resume the imaginary cross-examination of a very real senior partner profiled in “Not Done Yet” (ABA Journal, April 2010) (http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/not_done_yet)  

Partner: “If you’re asking me whether we have very talented attorneys who don’t progress to equity partnership, my answer is yes.”

Q: “Compared to you and those who rose those through the ranks with you, it’s a lot of very talented attorneys, isn’t it?”

Partner: “Sure.'”

Q: “That’s because today’s big firm business model requires leverage — lots of non-equity attorneys and other time-billers for every equity partner, right?”

Partner: “Look, big law firms have become businesses. I didn’t make it that way and I can’t ignore the marketplace. If we don’t maintain high equity partner profits through appropriate leverage ratios and other means, we’ll lose our ability to attract and retain the best people. If that happens, the entire institution will be at risk and we’ll endanger the jobs of everyone who works there. It’s called free market capitalism and I didn’t invent it.”

Q: “You didn’t invent the phrase, ‘pulling up the ladder,’ either, did you?”

AND HUBRIS, too

David Brooks is right on this one — and the legal profession is Exhibit A.

Before resuming my imagined cross-examination of a distressingly real biglaw senior partner in “PUZZLE PIECES,” I want to pause on Brooks’ April 9 NY Times column. He makes my point in a broader context: the pervasive absence of thoughtful reflection that passes for leadership is not unique to big law firms.

Looking at corporate America, he asks, “Who’s in charge?”

Then he answers his own question: “They are superconfident, forceful and charismatic.”

To these characteristics, I would add another: hubris.

Having navigated internal politics to reach the pinnacle of power in their organizations, they don’t revisit their guiding principles. Armed with an MBA (or at least, the equivalent mentality of misguided metrics), they validate their governance using the same criteria that swept them to the top.

As a result, attorneys who enjoyed every advantage as they rose through the ranks have now tied themselves to a mypoic view that encourages them to pull up the ladder on their kids’ generation. Compared to the growing national debt that preoccupies many with concern for our progeny’s well-being, baby boomer greed is wreaking far more enduring havoc.

Brooks argues in favor of an alternative style: the humble hound — a leader who combines “extreme personal humility with intense professional will” and “thinks less about her mental strengths than about her weaknesses…She understands she is too quick to grasp pseudo-ojective models and confident projections that give the illusion of control.”

To save them from themselves, big law firms need more such leaders. But who will mentor candidates through the daunting journey into equity partnerships and then upward?

Certainly not 64-year-old senior partners who don’t think about their own retirements until they receive lists of firm nominees for their management committees, only to find that because of advancing age their names aren’t on them.

What can you say about a leader for whom the approach of a 65th birthday comes as a surprise?

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 6

Q: “OK, let’s get specific. Let’s talk about you. Your path to the top of your firm was a lot easier than it is for new associates today, right?”

Partner: “I don’t accept that. We’re a meritocracy. Cream rises to the top.”

Q:  “Just because cream rises to the top doesn’t mean you skim all of it off, does it?”

Partner: “That’s clever, but what’s your point?”

Q: “Are you saying that the path to equity partnership at your firm is no more difficult now than it was for you?”

Partner: “I don’t think about it that way.”

Q: “I’m sure you don’t. But I’m asking you to think about it that way now. According to Am Law, in 1995 your firm had 315 lawyers of whom 132 — more than 40% — were equity partners, right?”

Partner: “That’s what it reported.”

Q: “In Feburary 2010, American Lawyer reported that your firm ended 2009 with more than double that number of lawyers — almost 800 in all. But during that 14-year period, the number of equity partners rose by a measly 17 — to only 149 , right?”

Partner: “You’ve posed a compound question, but what’s your point?”

Q: “When you’re averaging only one additional equity partner per year on a net basis, every associate in an incoming class of 20, 30 or even more law school graduates faces pretty daunting odds against success, correct?”

Partner: “The best will still make it.”

Q: “And if your firm wants to preserve its equity partners’ multi-million dollar incomes, some highly capable attorneys — people good enough to have advanced if they’d been in your demographic group 30 years ago — won’t capture the brass ring of equity partnership today, will they?”

Partner: “We’ll always have room for the best.”

Q: “Your Honor, I move to strike the witness’ last answer as non-responsive.”

THE COURT: “Motion granted. The witness is instructed to answer the question.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 5

Q: “According to Am Law, in a dozen years, your firm’s average equity partner profits soared by $2 million — from about $350,000 in 1995 to $2,350,000 in 2007, right?”

Partner: “That’s what they published.”

Q: “In 2007, you personally were at the top of the equity partnership, weren’t you?”

Partner: “I’m not going to apologize for success.”

Q: “I haven’t asked you to apologize yet, have I?”

Partner: “No.”

Q: “The point is: you were making a lot of money in 2007 when it first hit you that your 65th birthday was approaching, right?

Partner: “Yes.”

Q: “Millions of dollars a year?”

Partner: “Yes.”

Q: “That amount dwarfed what your mentors at the firm made 20 or more years earlier, didn’t it?”

Partner: “Sure. So what? All well-run big firms became more lucrative  over the past two decades.”

Q: “But not everyone in those firms — or yours — benefitted, did they?”

Partner: “Your question is too vague. You’ll have to be more specific.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 4

[An imaginary cross-examination of the 67-year-old Dechert partner profiled in “Not Done Yet” continues…]

Q: “What about money?”

Partner: “What about it?”

Q: “Do you think your equity partner income made you reluctant to admit — even to yourself — that someday you’d have to retire from your firm?”

Partner: “I don’t know why it would. Wealth creates options.”

Q: “Perhaps. Or maybe it fuels the lesser angels of our nature. Forty years ago, you didn’t become a lawyer because you thought it would make you rich, did you?”

Partner: “No. As I told the ABA reporter, early American lawyers such as Daniel Webster and Henry Clay inspired me.”

Q: “When you started your career in the early 1970s, no one talked much about billable hours, did they?”

Partner: “No.”

Q: “Or partner leverage?”

Partner: “Nope.”

Q: “Or other law firms’ average equity profits per partner?”

Partner: “How much money people made was not the subject of polite conversation. There’s more information today.”

Q: “I take it that you’re referring to the Am Law 100. What’s that?”

Partner: “The annual listing of the nation’s largest law firms.”

Q: “Do you remember when the first list appeared?”

Partner: “Sometime in the 1980’s, wasn’t it?”

Q: “1985; it started as the Am Law 50. Ten years later — in 1995 — what did Am Law report the total number of lawyers in your firm to be?”

Partner: “Probably around 300.”

Q: “You’re close. 315. How many of those were equity partners?”

Partner: “I don’t recall.”

Q: “Let me refresh your recollection. The July/August 1996 issue of American Lawyer says you had 132 equity partners — more than 40% of your firm’s attorneys. Do you know what Am Law said Dechert’s average equity partner profits were in 1995?”

Partner: “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

Q: “$345,000 in 1995. Do you know what Am Law reported your firm’s average equity partner income to be a dozen years later — in 2007 –when you had the revelation that, alas, you were getting older?”

Partner: “Go ahead.”

Q: “$2.35 million.”

Pause.

Q: “Let’s talk about how that happened.”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 3

As he himself described it, one of the top partners at Dechert LLP was 64 years old when he first realized that on his next birthday he’d turn 65. Now 67, he’s quoted in “Not Done Yet”:

“It made me start to think, ‘I’m in the traditional retirement zone without having spent one day thinking about it.’…Every time I set a timetable for a decision, I move it.”

That’s a witness statement I’d like to cross-examine — even if only in my dreams.

Q: “You’re an intelligent, accomplished attorney at one of the nation’s most prestigious firms, aren’t you?”

Partner: “I suppose you could say that.”

Q: “Don’t be modest. You have Ivy League undergraduate and law degrees sandwiched around an MBA, right?”

Partner: “Yes.”

Q: “You’re a senior partner at one of the nation’s elite firms — a group known as the Am Law 100, right?”

Partner: “Yes.”

Q: “You say that you didn’t think about retirement for a single day until you were 64?”

Partner: “Right.”

Q: “The light dawned when a list of nominees for the firm’s policy committee circulated and you saw that your name wasn’t on it, right?”

Partner: “That’s correct.”

Q: “You must have been pretty busy worrying about other things?”

Partner: “I’ve cultivated a very demanding practice. Law has become a 24/7 job.”

Q: “In your case, the job was so demanding that it completely distracted you from any awareness that you were getting older, is that what you’re saying?”

Partner: “Well…”

Q: “Before you answer, let me ask if you think anything else might have been contributing to your denial of the inevitable?”

Partner: “What do you mean?”

PUZZLE PIECES – Part 2

Tomorrow, I’ll return to the first of two articles that propelled me to launch this blog with “PUZZLE PIECES.”  First up is “Not Done Yet,”  (ABA Journal, April 2010 http://www.abajournal.com/magazine/article/not_done_yet/), about an aging big law firm partner who approached traditional retirement age only to have his own mortality surprise him.

Born just a few years before the beginning of a baby boomer generation that seemed always to have its way, he’s not alone in pondering the question: “Now what?” In fact, there are one-quarter million attorneys over 55 behind him.

But knowing his answer is less important than understanding the path that has taken him and many others to their current predicaments. Even more important are the implications for those now seeking an opportunity to get into that game.

PUZZLE PIECES

Connections are not always obvious.

In a single 24-hour period last week, two seemingly unrelated articles appeared in national publications. They addressed opposite ends of the legal profession’s pipeline: entry and exit.

An April 1, 2010 report in the New York Times, “At Law Firms, Reconsidering the Model for Associates’ Pay,” described a growing phenomenon that should interest all prospective lawyers and many others. The essential point: big law firms (where most graduates think they want to begin their legal careers) are looking for ways to pay their new associates less.

A day later, the April issue of the ABA Journal included “Not Done Yet: If 65 is the new 50, how will baby boomers remake retirement?” It described aging big firm attorneys who were approaching (or had already passed) the traditional retirement age.

In an upcoming series of posts, I’ll describe the profound connections between these two articles in the context of the profession’s recent trends. But before that, we’ll continue next time with some background information about me so readers can assess whether I have anything useful to offer them.

For starters, let me admit that for 30 years I was a litigator at a large law firm.