One of my favorite readers, Other Steve, scolded me for being so down about the practice of law. He wrote that I was harping on the “sad reality” of it all, but never opined whether OS (as I like to call him) should become a criminal defense lawyer or not. I admit, I’ve been a bit negative lately.
David Giacalone at f/k/a suggested that my low expectations of lawyers reflects a deeper negativity than his. Don’t you love negativity contests? Given enough time, one has the chance to see things change. From my experience, things have changed for the worse. In criminal law. In law. But my low expectations mask my idealism.
The reason I write about the “sad reality” is that I wake up every morning hoping for better. I write this dopey blawg every day because I want to contribute to better. I want to be part of the solution instead of the problem. The official world that actually runs stuff doesn’t like people like me because of this. They just want to maintain sufficient credibility that the world is doing fine to keep their important positions. I point out problems that they would prefer not be noticed.
But OS asks a good question, and as difficult as it may be, I should try to give him a worthy answer. Other Steve, why be a lawyer at all? I was checking out Moneylaw and saw this link to Paul Gowder’s Law and Letters post. He makes some very good points.
When I was in college, law school was the option for kids who couldn’t hack medical school but wanted to be a professional so they could enjoy a reasonably comfortable life. We were promised respect and a good living. At the time, the law was still a profession, though changes were clearly happening and, in retrospect, we were already pretty far down the slippery slope already.
The practice of law, in my eyes, has been divided into two distinct realms. One is the business of law, as reflected by Norm Pattis’ Lady DUI billboard and lawyers taking $1,500 felonies to try to pay the rent. The other is the moral high ground, the truest purpose of law, to serve our society.
The business of law is ugly and rotten. Worse yet, there just aren’t that many lawyers making that comfortable living they were promised, and the price they pay for the big bucks at Biglaw is very steep indeed. Want to ever see your children again? It’s hard to do when you’re cranking out 20 billable hours a day, with any misstep being the precursor to being tossed out on your equity partner ear by your comparably avaricious brothers and sisters.
And what of the righteous? Look around you. They bang, and bang, and bang their heads against a very hard, cold, impenetrable wall every day. Sure, we crow about the rare victory, but for every one of those is 10,000 cuts by the knives of stupidity, arrogance, laziness, pompousness and the fundamental lack of caring.
We write about fighting the good fight. We sometimes spout the platitudes that bring warmth and comfort to the quiet, huddled masses. We try to give hope. But we know that for all our efforts and persistence, most of the poor unfortunates who fall into the grasp of the law will end up miserable for one reason or another.
So, Other Steve, should you become a criminal defense lawyer. Absolutely. Not because you’re going to get rich. Not because you will become part of a system that imparts justice and fairness to our society. These are pipe dreams. Myths.
Do it because if you don’t, then the game is over. If young men and women who still believe in doing the right thing for the right reason decide that there is no place for them in the law, then we have lost the war and succumbed to the lowest common denominator in our society. I told you I was really an idealist.
Plus, there is nothing more fun that trying a case once you know what you’re doing. And nobody other than a hard-nosed criminal defense lawyer really tries cases anymore, no matter what they claim.
David Giacalone at f/k/a suggested that my low expectations of lawyers reflects a deeper negativity than his. Don’t you love negativity contests? Given enough time, one has the chance to see things change. From my experience, things have changed for the worse. In criminal law. In law. But my low expectations mask my idealism.
The reason I write about the “sad reality” is that I wake up every morning hoping for better. I write this dopey blawg every day because I want to contribute to better. I want to be part of the solution instead of the problem. The official world that actually runs stuff doesn’t like people like me because of this. They just want to maintain sufficient credibility that the world is doing fine to keep their important positions. I point out problems that they would prefer not be noticed.
But OS asks a good question, and as difficult as it may be, I should try to give him a worthy answer. Other Steve, why be a lawyer at all? I was checking out Moneylaw and saw this link to Paul Gowder’s Law and Letters post. He makes some very good points.
When I was in college, law school was the option for kids who couldn’t hack medical school but wanted to be a professional so they could enjoy a reasonably comfortable life. We were promised respect and a good living. At the time, the law was still a profession, though changes were clearly happening and, in retrospect, we were already pretty far down the slippery slope already.
The practice of law, in my eyes, has been divided into two distinct realms. One is the business of law, as reflected by Norm Pattis’ Lady DUI billboard and lawyers taking $1,500 felonies to try to pay the rent. The other is the moral high ground, the truest purpose of law, to serve our society.
The business of law is ugly and rotten. Worse yet, there just aren’t that many lawyers making that comfortable living they were promised, and the price they pay for the big bucks at Biglaw is very steep indeed. Want to ever see your children again? It’s hard to do when you’re cranking out 20 billable hours a day, with any misstep being the precursor to being tossed out on your equity partner ear by your comparably avaricious brothers and sisters.
And what of the righteous? Look around you. They bang, and bang, and bang their heads against a very hard, cold, impenetrable wall every day. Sure, we crow about the rare victory, but for every one of those is 10,000 cuts by the knives of stupidity, arrogance, laziness, pompousness and the fundamental lack of caring.
We write about fighting the good fight. We sometimes spout the platitudes that bring warmth and comfort to the quiet, huddled masses. We try to give hope. But we know that for all our efforts and persistence, most of the poor unfortunates who fall into the grasp of the law will end up miserable for one reason or another.
So, Other Steve, should you become a criminal defense lawyer. Absolutely. Not because you’re going to get rich. Not because you will become part of a system that imparts justice and fairness to our society. These are pipe dreams. Myths.
Do it because if you don’t, then the game is over. If young men and women who still believe in doing the right thing for the right reason decide that there is no place for them in the law, then we have lost the war and succumbed to the lowest common denominator in our society. I told you I was really an idealist.
Plus, there is nothing more fun that trying a case once you know what you’re doing. And nobody other than a hard-nosed criminal defense lawyer really tries cases anymore, no matter what they claim.
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“Do it because if you don’t, then the game is over.”
Wow . . .
Wow.
You really threw some sunshine down on that one, didn’t you?
I call ’em like I see ’em. The rose color has worn off my glasses.
Ditto.
Don’t use all your words up at one time. Save a few for a rainy day.
Sorry – Mark put it pretty well, I didn’t really think I had much to add.
But thank you for answering my question so quickly! *cough* MARK!! *cough*
Additionally, thank you for inducting me into the “SHG’s Favorite Readers Hall of Fame” – much appreciated! But perhaps, before the induction ceremony, I could change my name to “Better Steve,” so that you could abbreviate my name “BS.” (I’ve been itching to say that all day.)
Or perhaps I could be “Other, Better Steve” – then you could call me, “O, BS.”
Just call me butter ‘cuz I’m on a roll!