Some of you will know the origin of the title of this article. The rest of you will have to look it up.
These famous words convey the notion that when you are facing an existential crisis, you must devote yourself completely to the task of surviving. Other priorities become irrelevant.
I can think of a few instances in the legal world where half measures are inadequate and no other priorities matter. Death row appeals might be an example. Some less dramatic stuff might qualify as well. But the day-to-day pressures of practising law? Billable hour targets? Deadlines? Client origination credits? Making partner? Increasing your earnings to be able to afford better toys? All these pursuits must be measured against other priorities, such as healthy relationships, fitness, and physical and mental health.
It sounds obvious, doesn’t it? Once someone has secured sufficient income to pay their expenses and save for the future, why would they take up the “half measures availed us nothing” banner at the risk of their own well-being? Why would someone who has a decent place to live, food on the table and some money in the bank put so much time and effort into their career that they cannot find the time to take care of their own relationships and health?
I will leave it to the psychologists to answer the “why” question. I can only observe that there are plenty of people in the legal profession who could be asking it. At the same time, I would bet that most of them would not know how to answer it.
I could not have answered the question either, back when I was living the problem. I devoted too much of my time and mental energy to my legal career. My fitness, physical health and mental health all suffered. And yet, I soldiered on.
Now that I am retired and do everything in half measures, I have been thinking about what draws lawyers into this type of “half measures availed us nothing” thinking.
A nod is owed to the nature of lawyers, who are often competitive overachievers.
I would attribute some of the blame to the inherent nature of a profession where there are no defined hours of work.
Some of the responsibility can be pinned on the greed-based pyramid-scheme structure of law firms, where those at the top earn millions by having those at the bottom work excessively.
But mostly, we are all simply carrying on a long-standing tradition. In 1829, U.S. Supreme Court Justice Joseph Story remarked that the law “is a jealous mistress, and requires a long and constant courtship. It is not to be won by trifling favours, but by a lavish homage.” He was not expressing a new concept at the time.
Whatever the reason, I implore the folks who are lavishing homage to their careers, to ask: How much money is enough? How much prestige is enough? How much time devoted to pursuing them is too much?
A version of this article was originally published by Law360 Canada, part of LexisNexis Canada Inc.