The very name, Cadwalader, Wickersham & Taft, conjures up images of the whitest of white shoes in the world of law, meaning that it holds neither interest nor relevance to those of us who toil in the nasty trenches of the criminal justice system.  It’s just so, so, waspish.

So this bit of news may have escaped the notice of criminal defense lawyers, as 96 lawyers were laid off from CWT this week.  It seems that they weren’t all that thrilled with the love they were getting there to begin with, as CWT ranked last among Biglaw in associate satisfaction.  Even so, no doubt the lawyers found a bit of cheer when they received their very large paychecks and bonus checks and perks and all the other great stuff that Biglaw lawyers get that trench lawyers only dream about.

It seems that the “carnage”, as David Lat calls it, stems from an 80% drop in “real estate securitization,” also known as mortgage-backed securities.  It went from $314 billion last year to a mere $60 billion this year.  But you probably already know this, feeling the pinch yourself.  After all, this affects our practices too, right?

So what is a second year associate to do when his multi-hundred thousand dollar job disappears and there’s lease payments to be made on that Mercedes?  They aren’t hiring anywhere in Biglaw, though laterals with portfolios of clients to carry around are still dancing with as many partners as they can.  But these youngsters have no friends.  Plenty of company, but no friends.

Criminal defense may be law, but it bears no resemblance to Biglaw.  Other than the handful of former AUSAs who are taken in so that Biglaw can pretend that they do “white collar” defense, defined as marching their scared and shaking CEOs to the US Attorney’s office for coffee and scones for a few million dollars, they sit in sanitary offices and pray that their computers don’t crash in the middle of keeping time sheets on their deep clients thoughts.

As regular readers know, I am a deeply empathetic person.  I care for others.  I feel their pain (not in a Bill Clinton way).  But I’m having a difficult time mustering any tears for the axed 96.  As Icarus learned, flying too high leads to a crash.  The salaries and bonuses paid to young lawyers at Biglaw were astronomical, far in excess of their value under any rational scheme.  These were numbers that would make any public defender angry, and even a federal judge blush.

So 96 lawyers had their day in the sun, a bright, burning sun that led them to believe that their future was secure and that they would live in a world of plenty for the rest of their lives.  And then one day it ended.  How does that compare to the thousands of lawyers who toil in the trenches, whose annual salaries were less than these dilettantes’ bonus checks? 

There should be no satisfaction to be found in the fact that the Biglaw myth has its occasional cracks, and that good people have lost a job and found themselves in unfortunate straits.  But then, it’s hard to forget the smugness of Biglaw associates as they wrapped themselves in the glorious perks of their new jobs while those who went off in the other direction, to public defender and prosecutor offices, where they would barely earn enough to pay off their student loans. 

Maybe Biglaw isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  And maybe some Biglaw lawyers should consider that their world may some day crash and they will have to go to work in the trenches if they want to survive.  Life is tough in the trenches.  But at least the trenches will always be there.  And that’s where real lawyer work happens, and real people are helped.  But it just doesn’t pay as well, so you may have to put the Ferrari on hold.