Of all the movies ever made, none offers as many rules to live by as Mario Puzo’s 1972 epic, The Godfather. None even comes close. If you don’t understand why this is so, then you should stop reading immediately and go to another blawg, like Feminist Law Professors or perhaps some blog dedicated to work-life balance.
Dan Hull at What About Clients? gets it. In his ode to Rees Morrison at Law Department Management Blog, Dan makes the point that every lawyer, even a General Counsel, needs to be both philosopher and warrior. When you’re in a fight, running scared is not an option.
This is a particular problem in the defense of white collar criminal prosecutions, where the very hint of government interest makes civil lawyers start to shake. The in-house guys, particularly adept at proof-reading contracts and offering vague opinions on legal matters to non-lawyers when there is no one in the room to disagree with them, collapse into a bowl of jello when the threat of investigation or prosecution looms. They are over their head, and they know it. They want the scrutiny to go away, to return to the warmth and comfort of their world without threat. Their heads spin, trying to figure out a way to make the powerful leave them alone, to please the prosecutors and agents who are about to bring their legal world down around them.
This is why they need a wartime consigliere. The best strategy isn’t born of fear. The best outcome isn’t derived from running scared and hiding from the potential of battle. Clear thinking and a firm hand in the face of threat is critical at this very instant, and most lawyers aren’t prepared to handle the pressure. They collapse just when they are needed most.
Aversion to the unpleasantness of confrontation is a perfectly understandable reaction. It’s far more comfortable to make peace than war, for the warrior as well as the philosopher. But when the strategy is dictated by the lawyer’s inability to fight the war, to face up to the hard task of recognizing that a lasting peace can only come from the ability to wage a successful war, then the war is lost before it has begun.
Much of the time, two reactions arise from the threat of corporate or white collar investigation or prosecution: Denial and appeasement. Whether it’s “we did nothing wrong,” or its corollary, “everyone does it,” the executive approach is to maintain one’s dignity by refusing to acknowledge that they are facing a potentially catastrophic problem. This is frequently where the war is lost, when choices are made that later spell disaster for the defense against the attack.
The second reaction, appeasement, is the equivalent of surrender. Whether driven by the weak strategy of “no one can win” so we must surrender, or the “we’re the good guys” so we must cooperate, it’s really the path of least resistance, the one favored by the Tom Hagens. It may be the right course to take in some instances, but when it’s dictated by legal advice driven by fear and paralysis, then it’s just like going into battle unarmed. You were doomed to lose before you began.
Every lawyer is not a wartime consigliere. Most aren’t cut out for the heat of battle, the ability to stare down an enemy more powerful than you and be fully able to engage him if needed. But without a wartime consigliere, you are guaranteed to lose the war. Only from a position of strength, based on clear thought, fearlessness and the capacity to fight if needed, can one obtain the best results from white collar or corporate prosecutions.
If the threat of war is looming, make sure you are the wartime consigliere. If you’re Tom Hagen, at least recognize it and align yourself with someone who can fight for you. Think of The Godfather.
Dan Hull at What About Clients? gets it. In his ode to Rees Morrison at Law Department Management Blog, Dan makes the point that every lawyer, even a General Counsel, needs to be both philosopher and warrior. When you’re in a fight, running scared is not an option.
The superficial reaction of the Tom Hagen’s is that everything doesn’t have to be a battle; sometimes appeasement is the better route. This is true, but misses the lesson of the Godfather. A warrior knows how to make peace. A scared bunny will never know how to win a war. Worse still, a scared bunny will do everything in his power to avoid a war, even when it’s fundamentally contrary to reason and interest. The scared bunny will do this because he can do nothing else.It’s just a business fact, especially in changing industries. And especially now. General Counsel at corporations do make a difference. She should be broad-gauged, intellectual, take-charge, organized, preventive, resourceful–and war-like at heart. Hates war as expensive–but likes and even revels in a fight. Tells management what to do–and not a tentative, qualified “what you can do”.
At his well-regarded Law Department Management, Rees Morrison, by far one of the smarter, sager and more experienced lawyer-consultants out there, just asked “Does a General Counsel Make All That Much Difference?” Our two cents is in the WAC? post title above. The right GC? Get thee a philosopher-warrior. Be safe and feel safe, friends.
This is a particular problem in the defense of white collar criminal prosecutions, where the very hint of government interest makes civil lawyers start to shake. The in-house guys, particularly adept at proof-reading contracts and offering vague opinions on legal matters to non-lawyers when there is no one in the room to disagree with them, collapse into a bowl of jello when the threat of investigation or prosecution looms. They are over their head, and they know it. They want the scrutiny to go away, to return to the warmth and comfort of their world without threat. Their heads spin, trying to figure out a way to make the powerful leave them alone, to please the prosecutors and agents who are about to bring their legal world down around them.
This is why they need a wartime consigliere. The best strategy isn’t born of fear. The best outcome isn’t derived from running scared and hiding from the potential of battle. Clear thinking and a firm hand in the face of threat is critical at this very instant, and most lawyers aren’t prepared to handle the pressure. They collapse just when they are needed most.
Aversion to the unpleasantness of confrontation is a perfectly understandable reaction. It’s far more comfortable to make peace than war, for the warrior as well as the philosopher. But when the strategy is dictated by the lawyer’s inability to fight the war, to face up to the hard task of recognizing that a lasting peace can only come from the ability to wage a successful war, then the war is lost before it has begun.
Much of the time, two reactions arise from the threat of corporate or white collar investigation or prosecution: Denial and appeasement. Whether it’s “we did nothing wrong,” or its corollary, “everyone does it,” the executive approach is to maintain one’s dignity by refusing to acknowledge that they are facing a potentially catastrophic problem. This is frequently where the war is lost, when choices are made that later spell disaster for the defense against the attack.
The second reaction, appeasement, is the equivalent of surrender. Whether driven by the weak strategy of “no one can win” so we must surrender, or the “we’re the good guys” so we must cooperate, it’s really the path of least resistance, the one favored by the Tom Hagens. It may be the right course to take in some instances, but when it’s dictated by legal advice driven by fear and paralysis, then it’s just like going into battle unarmed. You were doomed to lose before you began.
Every lawyer is not a wartime consigliere. Most aren’t cut out for the heat of battle, the ability to stare down an enemy more powerful than you and be fully able to engage him if needed. But without a wartime consigliere, you are guaranteed to lose the war. Only from a position of strength, based on clear thought, fearlessness and the capacity to fight if needed, can one obtain the best results from white collar or corporate prosecutions.
If the threat of war is looming, make sure you are the wartime consigliere. If you’re Tom Hagen, at least recognize it and align yourself with someone who can fight for you. Think of The Godfather.
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I’m pretty sure Prof. Roy Godson at Georgetown University’s School of Foreign Service agrees with your assessment of the practical wisdom and guidelines to be found in “The Godfather.”
Mario Puzo’s novel was published in 1969, and the next year, Godson’s first assignment for his International Relations course was to read “The Godfather.” [It was too soon to assign the movie.] He said nations (and his students, such as the young and naive David Giacalone) could learn much from the strategies and actions of the Corleone Family and its rivals. I wish Giacalone had focused more on the Wartime Consigliere issue back then, so we could add to your discussion above. However, he was distracted by the legs of a future feminist law professor, who threatened to have him sleep with the fishes (and not with her).
So it’s true that those FFLPs start young. My condolences to young David Giacalone.
He was a very slow learner indeed.
It could have been worse. He could have been just another boy toy, that Giacalone.
Someone, I don’t remember who, wrote that The Godfather is like the i ching for guys.
“Leave the gun, take the cannoli.”
That is so true.
So true, so true, so true. And also true in politics and who knows how many other domains.
Just stumbled across this while searching for the exact quote regarding Tom Hagen and the need for a “wartime consigliere.”
I needed it to describe an elected official’s likely decision to veto or not veto a Legislative budget decision on a long-standing, highly controversial issue. In particular, I wanted to contrast the current incumbent’s approach and the advice he’s getting to that of his predecessor, who, in my judgement, needed but did not have a wartime consigliere.
The former official repeatedly accommodated a bunch of out-of-control legislators, until he became irrelevant. Though he had held the office for a long time, ultimately he chose not to run again – another form of accommodation. Not only did he lose his job, he lost his war on the issue at hand. (Others continue the fight on different grounds.)
Loved the description of in-house lawyers too. It applies well outside of criminal matters.
Thanks!