Criminal law blawgers keep an eye on our brothers at the other table, just to know what’s going on in their heads.  I have Ken Lammers of CrimLaw, who was seduced by the dark side, on my feed so I read everything Ken puts out. but I’m a bit more lax about some of the other prosecutor blawgs. 

Some don’t make my regular radar because they focus on their particular courthouse, which doesn’t interest me as much because I don’t live there.  Others because they are just too over the top, straining to justify every bit of bad law or behavior.  If I had more time, I would follow them more closely, but time is a scarce resource and it’s got to be meted out carefully.

In doing a quick survey of the dark side yesterday, I came upon a prosecutor blawg that had, for a while, been going gangbusters.  It was a favorite of Ken’s, and given how highly I think of Ken, I would be remiss in not keeping an eye on it from time to time.  Its name was never clear, but it appeared to be called Ubjeckshin.  I decided to pass by yesterday, and what I found was disconcerting.

The blawger, who was once anonymous but now comes out from behind the curtain, is David Greenspan.  As a prosecutor, he was strident in his positions, zealous in the righteousness of his efforts.  Stripped of his title, he’s lost and desperate.

I have relocated myself to North Seattle, where I now live with my parents once again.  I find it somewhat shameful, having to return to the nest, but the economic realities are what they are, and I am drowning in old debts.  Over the past six months, I have applied for numerous jobs, only to be refused each time.  Most of the interviewers praise my experience, and often tell me that I have excellent qualifications.  Yet, there always seems to be someone better for the job…

I decided a couple of months ago to try and hang out a shingle for myself, but that has also proven to be a considerable challenge.  I know I have the skill to be a competent lawyer, but I lack a variety of resources.  Washington rules of professional conduct prohibit a lawyer from directly soliciting clients for representation.  And with limited contacts, and even more limited finances, advertising is next to impossible.  I need to find ways to get my name out there, get some word of mouth, but like everywhere else in this depressed economy, no one has much interest in spending money on a young lawyer.

I built a web site for myself a couple of months back.  Since then, I have received no inquiries from potential clients, except from a couple of friends.  My friends have indeed been supportive in these tough times, but most of them are unable to afford legal services of any kind themselves.  And very few of my friends know other people who require legal representation, though I know they are all on the lookout, should such a situation arise.  In the meantime, I am trying to network more with local attorneys and judges.  So far, all I have netted is a lot of encouragement, but no client referrals.

David published this post on June 26, 2009.  It’s the last post on his blawg.  I wonder, as I read his words again, what’s become of him.  Has he found a job?  Has he found a client?  Is he eating properly?  Is he sucking down depression meds and contemplating suicide?  I have no idea, and I really wish he posted about how he’s doing at the moment.  I fear from his tone that he’s hit bottom, and it pains me to learn of any lawyer, young or old, hitting bottom.

On the other hand, I want to smack him.  Hard.  I can’t count how many young lawyers sign up to be a prosecutor, filled with the self-importance and self-righteousness that comes from making decisions about the lives of others, that are so far above their level of comprehension as to be absurd.  They wield this power like a club, mindless swinging it at anyone they decide to be worthy as their victim.  They tell themselves and others how their victims deserve it, brought it upon themselves, but the truth is that they haven’t the slightest clue how to distinguish those deserving of their terror and those deserving empathy. 

They are children with power.  Few things are more dangerous than children with power.

For a brief period of time, they wield that power without mercy or conscience.  Oh, how wonderful to be so powerful, to be able to make life and death decisions for others with the might of the State behind you.  How glorious to laugh about it with your friends at the bar afterward, how you showed this miscreant who’s boss.  And to make defense lawyers, many years your senior, talk sweet to you, beg you, cajole you, try to curry your favor, all to weasel some small concession out of you.  How wonderful it is to wield such power.

And then one day it’s gone.  All gone.  The judges who once loved you no longer know your name.  The lawyers who quaked when you looked at them askance ignore you.  You’re nothing.  You’re nobody.  All the bridges burned, the friends you thought you had, and nobody will take your calls.

It sucks to be powerless.

In Greenspan’s case, he was fired for poor case management.  He says it’s baloney, and it may well be.  But it doesn’t matter.  One day he’s almighty, and the next he’s broken. 

Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to sit down with many prosecutors.  The younger ones are very different than the older ones.  The older ones have gotten past the high of self-important, for the most part, and we talk like people to each other.  The younger ones can’t; their entire persona is wrapped up in their self-importance.  They tend to be very official, overly formal.  They hide behind the shell of the prosecutor, fearful that a defense lawyer might see that they are just a kid playing god.

For the vast majority of these young prosecutors, their time in the office is limited.  They will someday need to emerge from the cocoon, take their place amongst the rest of the legal community.  They will learn, to their total amazement, that the indulgences they received as prosecutor disappear overnight.  The judges will no longer cut them a break for their failings.  The staff no longer care what they have to say.  And most importantly, the criminal defense bar will not forget how they behaved toward other lawyers, toward other human beings, during their very brief stint in power. 

A few leave the district attorneys office and find jobs in law firms, learning humanity at the hands of superiors whose approval they need to keep their jobs and get their annual bonus.  A minute fraction turn out to be superstar lawyers, confirming their self-image as worthy of making life and death decisions for others.  Many change sides, expecting the clients to throw huge wads of cash at them by trading off their former office.  They envision an easy life, certain that their greatness as a prosecutor will propel them to new heights of success.

Of course, the world looks entirely different when viewed from the other side.  They learn.  Except the superstars, whose views of their self-worth are confirmed.

There’s no pleasure to be had in watching a former young prosecutor crash and burn.  Some may feel the Schadenfreude, but that’s petty.  They are only children, fed a false belief of importance and given powers far beyond their abilities and understanding.  Stripped of their power, whether voluntarily or compelled, they wake up one morning to realize that it’s a hard world out there.

I hope David Greenspan is doing okay.  I hope he’s eating properly.  I wish I had the chance to warn him that the future might not be as bright as he probably thought when he was almighty.