While some prefer to question the name, “Law Porn” has become a serious bone of contention for academics. It seems mostly amusing to me until I read Dean Chen’s post about how he expects it to become the institutional norm. Worse yet, the reason for this happening is not because law schools think it’s really cool, but because the school that doesn’t employ Law Porn will be viewed as too poor to be worthy of significance.
Law Porn is the Rolex watch of law schools, too gaudy to be taken seriously, yet obvious enough to send the message that it can wear its importance on its wrist.
The odd thing about law porn is that no one, at least as far as I can tell, argues that it’s a good thing, or a fair representation of a law school’s worth. To a person, Law Porn is despised. And so, why does Dean Chen speculate that it will become the bread and butter promotional tool to garner alumni love (in hard currency) for the future?
It strikes me that this either reflects a secret pleasure within the academic community, which is quite real but so far beneath the dignity of these scholars that they could never openly admit they like it, or they think so little of the rest of us that they believe this crap necessary to suck in us alums, too vapid to realize that shiny things lack substance.
Are we that vapid? Does it take a glossy, four-color brochure hyping inconsequential matters as if they were in serious contention for the Nobel Prize to capture our hearts, minds and wallets?
It suggests to me that lawyers are as deeply concerned with where their law school ranks in that U.S. News & World Reports tierism thing as law students and law professors. Self-esteem is inextricably woven into the rankings, making us better lawyers for having gone to a tier 1 school. And since we feel that way about our school, then . . . what? We donate more? We care more? We donate more? I see I’m repeating myself, but that’s because it can only be about money.
Jim Chen points out that Law Porn is expensive. It costs a lot to create and reproduce. It costs a lot to send out. It’s money that isn’t spent on other things, like law professor salaries. It’s money that has to be recaptured from somewhere. Can you guess where that might be?
Like everyone else, my mail brings a wealth of shiny brochures. I don’t distinguish the ones that are supposed to be meaningful to me from the mere common solicitations. The motives of the sender do not enter into the decision-making process; they all go into recycling before they ever hit my desk. So if anyone sees my name on a list of people to be sent Law Porn, you can take it off and save the dollar. I bet this is true of a lot of lawyers. While I appreciate the education I received from my law school (or more truthfully, from certain professors at my law school), no shiny brochure is going to change my memories or cause my chest to swell with pride.
Does it do it for you?
Law Porn is the Rolex watch of law schools, too gaudy to be taken seriously, yet obvious enough to send the message that it can wear its importance on its wrist.
The odd thing about law porn is that no one, at least as far as I can tell, argues that it’s a good thing, or a fair representation of a law school’s worth. To a person, Law Porn is despised. And so, why does Dean Chen speculate that it will become the bread and butter promotional tool to garner alumni love (in hard currency) for the future?
It strikes me that this either reflects a secret pleasure within the academic community, which is quite real but so far beneath the dignity of these scholars that they could never openly admit they like it, or they think so little of the rest of us that they believe this crap necessary to suck in us alums, too vapid to realize that shiny things lack substance.
Are we that vapid? Does it take a glossy, four-color brochure hyping inconsequential matters as if they were in serious contention for the Nobel Prize to capture our hearts, minds and wallets?
It suggests to me that lawyers are as deeply concerned with where their law school ranks in that U.S. News & World Reports tierism thing as law students and law professors. Self-esteem is inextricably woven into the rankings, making us better lawyers for having gone to a tier 1 school. And since we feel that way about our school, then . . . what? We donate more? We care more? We donate more? I see I’m repeating myself, but that’s because it can only be about money.
Jim Chen points out that Law Porn is expensive. It costs a lot to create and reproduce. It costs a lot to send out. It’s money that isn’t spent on other things, like law professor salaries. It’s money that has to be recaptured from somewhere. Can you guess where that might be?
Like everyone else, my mail brings a wealth of shiny brochures. I don’t distinguish the ones that are supposed to be meaningful to me from the mere common solicitations. The motives of the sender do not enter into the decision-making process; they all go into recycling before they ever hit my desk. So if anyone sees my name on a list of people to be sent Law Porn, you can take it off and save the dollar. I bet this is true of a lot of lawyers. While I appreciate the education I received from my law school (or more truthfully, from certain professors at my law school), no shiny brochure is going to change my memories or cause my chest to swell with pride.
Does it do it for you?
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Hi Scott,
Thanks for this post. My original post is “Law porn and the peacock’s tail,” http://money-law.blogspot.com/2007/10/law-porn-and-peacocks-tail.html. Somehow the link above went to DefJam.com — interesting, but not MoneyLaw (http://money-law.blogspot.com)!
Best regards,
Jim
Hi Jim,
Thanks for the heads up. The misdirected link has now been corrected, but you know how easy it is to confuse law with rap. I’m sure it happens all the time.
S