There is an old story about a young man who, after finally meeting the love of his life following years searching the globe for his one true soulmate, took his girlfriend’s hands in his own one starlit summer evening, stared deeply into her beautiful eyes, and whispered to her in a husky, excited voice: “since I met you, I can’t eat. I can’t drink. I can’t sleep… I’m completely broke.”
There were good things about the old days when law was primarily a profession, and lawyers joined law firms with a view to learning, working hard, and becoming partners. One of them was that law firms cared about their associates progressing, developing clients, and becoming self-sufficient.
Let me tell you about two different law firms.
Big Law Group One is a well-respected Canadian firm with many hundreds of lawyers, some of whom appear to be happier than others. Some of their dearly departed professionals have told me distressing stories about their lives at that firm, and the effect that the work demands had on their mental health. They also shared with me their feeling that the firm let them down when they required accommodation to recover from their mental health problems. They painted a picture of a firm which did not care much about its people, especially after those people became unable or unwilling to continue to sacrifice their health on the altar of billable hours.
Those of my era may remember the comic book character known as “Richie Rich.” Nice little kid, but being brought up by wealthy parents, he was not on the same wavelength as some of his friends.
My friend Stan had a law partner who was kind of like a wannabe Richie Rich. He wasn’t rich yet, but by God he planned to be!
A friend of mine, who I will call Bill, was named as a Best Lawyer. Bill is a sole practitioner in a narrow specialty, and I am inclined to believe that having his peers vote him that award is meaningful. Unlike some of the multitude of lawyers in large firms who won similar awards, Bill did not have hundreds of colleagues to vote for him.
Unfortunately, you will not find Bill’s name in the online directory of Best Lawyers because he declined to pay the minimum fee of $1,595 per year (supposedly reduced from $1,850).
Unsuccessful people are the ones who are impressed by celebrity, by people’s names and titles.
~ Robin S. Sharma
In the old days, there were Associates and Partners. Every lawyer planned to work ridiculously hard as an Associate for about seven years, after which the firm would invite them to become a partner. Or not.
If you were not invited to become a partner, you were expected to hang your head in shame and slink out of the firm. The system was called “Up or Out.”
When I articled, if lawyers or law students worked past 6 pm, they were welcome to dine at the firm’s expense, as long as they returned to the office to work after dinner.
That sounded like a great deal to a lowly paid student, and I was impressed with how considerate the firm was. Being a slow learner, it took me a while to realize that the firm was trying to encourage lawyers to work late into the evening. It took me even longer to figure out that the lawyers would often work until just after 6 pm, go to dinner until 7:30 pm, and return to the office just long enough to be seen by some partners, and then leave.
Lawyers struggle to attract talent who are both capable and a good fit for a firm’s culture.
If only there were consultants who firms could retain and candidates could work with, who understand the market, the culture in different firms and practice groups, the current salaries being paid by firms of all sizes, and the expectations of law firms and candidates on a multitude of issues, including work from home, vacation entitlement, bonuses, and billable hour requirements.
I was speaking to a recent retiree from a Canadian Big Law firm the other day, and she introduced a new law firm concept to me, being that of the “Practice Assistant.” Apparently at her firm they did away with the concept of Legal Assistants (formerly, a “secretary” for you very old folks) and replaced it with a Practice Assistant, or “PA.”
Early in my articles, a senior partner named David asked me to draft a document and gave me a precedent to use. David approved my draft but asked me to show it to Bob, a more junior partner. Bob told me that I had left out an important clause and asked me if David had approved my drafting. When I assured him that David had thought the draft was fine, Bob rolled his eyes and I understood that Bob did not hold David in high regard.