Back when I was attending Vanier College in Montreal, I met a girl named Marta who was quite beautiful. I could see myself dating someone like Marta, so I tried to get to know her. I was very happy when Marta told me that she thought that I was a nice guy, she liked me a whole bunch, and she cared very deeply about me.
In fact, Marta, who was a member of the Vanier Christian Fellowship Society, cared so very much about me, that she felt just awful that, “I was going to rot in the hell fire of eternal damnation because I had not accepted Jesus Christ as my personal saviour.”
This revelation caused a bit of a rift in our budding relationship. Marta was so unbelievably cute, that despite me being of the Jewish faith, I was willing to overlook this small difference of opinion. (Young men seeking to establish a relationship with a pretty girl can be quite flexible.) Unfortunately for me, this issue was a deal-breaker for her. She wanted to be with someone with whom she could spend both this life, and the next.
I sometimes reminisce about my short friendship with Marta. Even if the difference in our values doomed it from the outset, at least I am thankful that Marta wanted only the best for me. Our views as to what should have been important to me may not have aligned, but there was nothing sinister about that. Her desire to help me was not motivated by wanting anything from me, other than the satisfaction of saving another soul. In retrospect, I understand that Marta felt a special type of love for me.
A few years after Marta left me behind, I found myself in the legal profession, where I enjoyed the most impactful type of relationship known to the law – the fiduciary duty owed among partners. Unlike the unselfish love that Marta had for my immortal soul, the friendship, love, and respect, that I shared with my law partners was tainted by self-interest, and conditional upon the amount of my client origination credits, and billed and collected invoices. I never found, in my partners, the unselfish desire that Marta had for my wellbeing. Nor, I suppose, did such pure sentiments emanate from me to them.
It may be naïve to expect law partners to care about each other’s well-being beyond their minimum legal obligations. One needs only look at how they compete for compensation, jump from firm to firm for more money, and play politics to feather their own nest, to prove that point.
But still, it would be nice if firms published their values, made clear their expectations that partners would look out for each other, refused entry to partners who could not be expected to have each other’s back, and turfed those who did not care about each other’s well-being.
I do not know what became of Marta, but if she became a lawyer, she was likely an excellent partner.
This article was originally published by Law360 Canada, part of LexisNexis Canada Inc.