As the practice of criminal defense law faces increasing financial pressures, I find myself wondering when the Biglaw and corporate honchos are going to realize that there is a huge, untapped resource out there. Don’t just pooh-pooh me right away.
These are the people who think that first year associates (for the uninitiated, kids about 12 minutes out of law school) merit salaries of $160,000, plus $50,000 bonuses and special bonuses of another $60,000, not to mention a variety of perks that would embarrass Dennis Kozlowski. They tend to be fairly smart individuals, and generally hard-working. What they are not is competent. They cannot yet do anything other than sit in a library and research, or look at documents for typos and erroneous citation form.
The hope of the Biglaw partnership is that they will, over time, develop into “their kind” of lawyer. They will learn to do big deals. They will learn to handle corporate clients. They will not cringe at the sight of 10,000 pages of documents to be reviewed. After all, somebody has to do this stuff, and they want someone who will do it the Biglaw way.
These are slaves in the making, or as others prefer to call them, an investment in the future. Few will ever become stars. Few will become Biglaw partners. Few will be rainmakers, the most important of all. But to have your first choice of the best and the brightest in the hope that you’ll somehow snag that future star, they invest in law review editors from the best schools in the hope that they’ve gotten the cream of the crop.
To a fairly large extent, this tradition-laden approach is an example of being unable to see the forest through the trees. I’ve gotten to know some Biglaw partners over the years. Some are great lawyers. Others, not so. Some are real asses, still kvelling about their Harvard diploma as if to say that they’ve never done a damn thing worthwhile in the 30 years since.
But they are so caught up in the mechanics that brought them to Biglaw that it has never dawned on them that maybe, just maybe, they have passed on some relatively cheap talent and missed a huge opportunity. I know it’s heresy, but bear with me.
Consider that public defenders, coming out of law school, are thrown into the lion’s den, left to stand before a court determined to toss their client in jail. They have little other than their wits to stop them. A few months of this and they gain skills that no genius in the library is ever going to attain. They are tested by fire. Can your associate withstand say that?
Consider that the difference in intelligence between the best first year associate you’ve ever had and an effective young trial lawyer is meaningless. The job is to represent clients, not compare IQ scores. Not to mention, try giving one of your geniuses the Wisconsin Card Sorting Test. I bet a young public defender will kick butt every time.
Consider that public defenders do all of this for a fraction of the salary you pay to your cite checker, and without a bonus. They can pick up their own suits at the dry cleaners. I know, they’re too busy to spend the time, but they will find a way. That’s the difference. These are men and women who learn how to do things rather than learn how to expect others to do things for them.
There is a world full of great lawyers out there. It consists of public defenders, and prosecutors as well. Then there are experienced lawyers who somehow prove their skill day after day, despite never having the experience of holding your briefcase. While Biglaw throws obscene amounts of (other people’s) money in the hope of scarfing up a franchise quarterback in the draft, there are winning players all around you who would produce 100 times the worth of these inchoate stars. You know this because they already do it.
Take of the blinders and take a hard look at the talent in the trenches. Do you really think a room full of overpaid, overpuffed kids can compete? I realize that this would require a fundamental shift in thinking, something that stodgy old lawfirms find nearly impossible to do, as well as an admission that many years of throwing good money after bad was just an incredibly foolish mistake (and thus demonstrative proof that you aren’t as smart as you want everyone to believe). But you know I’m right.
One day, someone is going to be an innovator and “discover” a world of untapped, proven talent. Their productivity and skill levels will dwarf anything that Biglaw has ever seen, and will enthrall their corporate sponsors by reducing costs while simultaneously increasing lawfirm profits, and most importantly, will bring a measure of legal success and effectiveness that Biglaw (in its secret inside moments knows) has rarely achieved.
I just want it on record that I said so first.
These are the people who think that first year associates (for the uninitiated, kids about 12 minutes out of law school) merit salaries of $160,000, plus $50,000 bonuses and special bonuses of another $60,000, not to mention a variety of perks that would embarrass Dennis Kozlowski. They tend to be fairly smart individuals, and generally hard-working. What they are not is competent. They cannot yet do anything other than sit in a library and research, or look at documents for typos and erroneous citation form.
The hope of the Biglaw partnership is that they will, over time, develop into “their kind” of lawyer. They will learn to do big deals. They will learn to handle corporate clients. They will not cringe at the sight of 10,000 pages of documents to be reviewed. After all, somebody has to do this stuff, and they want someone who will do it the Biglaw way.
These are slaves in the making, or as others prefer to call them, an investment in the future. Few will ever become stars. Few will become Biglaw partners. Few will be rainmakers, the most important of all. But to have your first choice of the best and the brightest in the hope that you’ll somehow snag that future star, they invest in law review editors from the best schools in the hope that they’ve gotten the cream of the crop.
To a fairly large extent, this tradition-laden approach is an example of being unable to see the forest through the trees. I’ve gotten to know some Biglaw partners over the years. Some are great lawyers. Others, not so. Some are real asses, still kvelling about their Harvard diploma as if to say that they’ve never done a damn thing worthwhile in the 30 years since.
But they are so caught up in the mechanics that brought them to Biglaw that it has never dawned on them that maybe, just maybe, they have passed on some relatively cheap talent and missed a huge opportunity. I know it’s heresy, but bear with me.
Consider that public defenders, coming out of law school, are thrown into the lion’s den, left to stand before a court determined to toss their client in jail. They have little other than their wits to stop them. A few months of this and they gain skills that no genius in the library is ever going to attain. They are tested by fire. Can your associate withstand say that?
Consider that the difference in intelligence between the best first year associate you’ve ever had and an effective young trial lawyer is meaningless. The job is to represent clients, not compare IQ scores. Not to mention, try giving one of your geniuses the Wisconsin Card Sorting Test. I bet a young public defender will kick butt every time.
Consider that public defenders do all of this for a fraction of the salary you pay to your cite checker, and without a bonus. They can pick up their own suits at the dry cleaners. I know, they’re too busy to spend the time, but they will find a way. That’s the difference. These are men and women who learn how to do things rather than learn how to expect others to do things for them.
There is a world full of great lawyers out there. It consists of public defenders, and prosecutors as well. Then there are experienced lawyers who somehow prove their skill day after day, despite never having the experience of holding your briefcase. While Biglaw throws obscene amounts of (other people’s) money in the hope of scarfing up a franchise quarterback in the draft, there are winning players all around you who would produce 100 times the worth of these inchoate stars. You know this because they already do it.
Take of the blinders and take a hard look at the talent in the trenches. Do you really think a room full of overpaid, overpuffed kids can compete? I realize that this would require a fundamental shift in thinking, something that stodgy old lawfirms find nearly impossible to do, as well as an admission that many years of throwing good money after bad was just an incredibly foolish mistake (and thus demonstrative proof that you aren’t as smart as you want everyone to believe). But you know I’m right.
One day, someone is going to be an innovator and “discover” a world of untapped, proven talent. Their productivity and skill levels will dwarf anything that Biglaw has ever seen, and will enthrall their corporate sponsors by reducing costs while simultaneously increasing lawfirm profits, and most importantly, will bring a measure of legal success and effectiveness that Biglaw (in its secret inside moments knows) has rarely achieved.
I just want it on record that I said so first.
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You don’t get it. BigLaw is not about competence, it is about connections & the income those connections bring. A PD’s connection, with notable exceptions, are not going to be people who can bring income in to the firm. Sure, every firm needs a fixer or two to bail a client’s kid out of jail when he gets caught with an ounce of blow, but you don’t need more than a few types to unfuck a client’s kid or handle another situation that needs unfucking.
Hey N.W., I’m thinking further outside the box than that. Most of the kids in the library bring in no connections and will never be rainmakers. They’re grunts, but grunts who can’t produce. I’m not talking about bringing PDs in to do criminal defense, but do the actual law work that these kids aren’t able to do. They can do it faster, better and for less. Why chase after kids who have never shown any ability to be a lawyer when there are people out there working for peanuts who have proven themselves?
The Death of Writing
The Death of Writing
The Death of Writing
I only see one problem with your plan–would anyone who has actually functioned as a lawyer with their own caseload be willing to go back to being a Biglaw associate? Even for the money? Some, probably; but I suspect most of us would chafe under the system. And money obviously isn’t our primary motivator.
As one who is in the bar but not of it, I assumed that a job as a PD would open doors for me if I decided I needed a change of pace. (Which was likely, given the burnout rate of PD’s.) When I went on the job hunt I got a big fat nothing. I landed my first private job through total luck, and it’s anything but biglaw. I have friends looking for jobs with solid trial experience and no firm will touch them. The legal industry needs to get a brain.