Norm Pattis, known around the Connecticut courts as Mr. Communication (as well as a few other choice names), raises a timely question about how much of good thing will drive a lawyer nuts.
I’ve noticed a tendency among clients to send emails at all hours of the day and night. I regularly get two or three emails sent between midnight and two a.m. from one client. Another sends them shortly after 6 a.m. The emails ask question upon question about things sometimes only marginally related to the litigation I am handling. Sometimes they want to know what I did the day before and when I plan to do a number of other things on their behalf.
The emails are often a sword through my heart, slaying any sense of professionalism.
I’ve notice the same thing. Recently, I wake up in the morning to find a half dozen emails from the same client in my mailbox. Questions, comments or sheer emotive angst smack me in the face, sometimes showing a full circle between the first and last email of a sleepless night.
The problem is not that they use email as a means of communication, but that email is so easily used to express every momentary tinge of pain, fear and concern. Tossing off an email to revisit an hour long discussion of strategy, asking, “can you explain it to me again,” is problematic. Not because we can’t ignore the panoply of emotions, but because we’re not the type of lawyer who ignores clients. I think Norm feels as I do, that we owe our clients communication about their lives. But where does it stop?
The telephone used to be the lawyer’s nightmare, when clients would call a dozen times a day to express every thought that pops into their head. I would explain that if I spend all day on the phone with each client (or family member of the client) who calls, then no work would ever get done and their quest for justice would come to a screeching halt. They didn’t want that, right?
Then came email, a way for them to express themselves without necessarily precluding my ability to perform actual work. It held so much promise. So very much. Until clients realized that they could type a dozen emails an hour. All things in moderation is a great rule of thumb, but moderation is relative to the perceived critical importance of any particular email.
Norm asks for suggestions in how to handle the deluge of late night emails he receives. It’s painful for the communicative lawyer to not respond, but it’s even more painful to address each and every one. My practice is to now respond once to the bunched groups of emails to the extent responses are truly called for. When the emails reflect ongoing angst, then I try to respond calmly and focus them back on the issue at hand. When the emails ask for detailed responses to issues in their case that have no been discussed, then I respond that we can and should sit down for a discussion and make an appointment.
When the emails seek to repeat discussion already had, once if not thrice, then I tell them that nothing has changed since our last discussion, and we need to spend our energy working toward results, not revisiting every decision to the point of paralysis. These are really comfort emails, assuaging their midnight fears of pending disaster. It’s perfectly understandable, given what I do, that my clients feel this way. Yet their fear doesn’t make the problem go away, or further my efforts to help them. If these calls for calm are viewed as cathartic exercises, and the client accepts the idea that we really are doing our job while they stay up late and obsess, we can survive together.
It’s hard, if not impossible, to balance the client’s therapeutic needs with his legal needs. But I’m a lawyer, not a therapist. Nor does the client share responsibility with me for being the lawyer, as if my every move requires the client’s understanding and approval. I try to keep my clients abreast of everything they need to know, and most are appreciative and more than satisfied with my communication. But there will always be some who will sit awake at night shooting off emails.
Did that help any Norm? Probably not. It’s the same old story with a new delivery mechanism. You know as well as I do that it’s just part of the job.
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I can empathize with the plight of those clients that want to repeat prior discussions. I can only imagine what it’s like to face a potential prison sentence of several years, in addition to the collateral consequences of a criminal conviction, and to know that the only guy who can help me is this crazy lawyer I’ve never met before who keeps talking in Latin and Legal-ese. So I wouldn’t be surprised if my mind drifted during an important discussion, and all I could think of was “Is this really happening? No, seriously, is it?” Perhaps I’d even e-mail my lawyer at 3AM to have him/her repeat what was discussed. And I imagine even a focused client can follow a discussion and feel confident that he/she understands what was discussed, and then go home and not remember or understand a thing.
That said, it’s clearly in neither the client’s nor the lawyer’s best interests for the lawyer to waste valuable time repeating prior discussions, when there is other work that could be done.
So what can you do? You could encourage your clients to take notes, but my guess is that few would do so. You could provide hand-outs, which outline the discussion, for the client to take back home – and I imagine you have some clients who aren’t that literate. You could make an audio recording of the discussions, but then you’d face a technology-compatibility problem.
But I feel like the best thing you could do is to ask a teacher – they spend their careers trying to get their pupils to understand and remember boring stuff.
As for the clients that need “comfort e-mails,” you could consider telling clients, “You can expect to hear from me in a week, or sooner if need be; but probably a week.” In a week, send an e-mail saying, “Just wanted to give you a quick update on your case. I’m still waiting on [action X] to happen. Once that happens, we’ll do [action Y]. Depending on the results there, we’ll have to discuss [action Z]. But in short, nothing’s changed from when we last spoke. I’ll get in touch with you again in a week.” Giving the client something to do might help – “collect witness names” or “spend a day in courtroom 302 to watch how things go on.” Perhaps give them a dummy project that doesn’t help you at all but keeps them occupied and feeling like its helping their case.
But the bottom line is that, “most [of your clients] are appreciative and more than satisfied with my communication.” So what do you already do that is so successful?
I take the time to explain and discuss with them, usually before they know to ask the question. Most clients come to the realization, sooner rather than later because I’m proactive, that I do nothing without thought and analysis, and that my strategic decisions are grounded in their best interests. I also ask my clients their preference, whenever there’s a judgment call to be made. More often than not, they kick it back to me, but they like to be asked because it’s their life and they do have a say.
As I said, this satisfies most clients. Some will never be satisfied until the case is over. And some just need a therapist as well as a lawyer.