A buddy of mine, a former homicide prosecutor turned defense lawyer, told me that he’s tried more than 200 felony cases to verdict before a jury.  There aren’t a lot of lawyers who can say that, at least in New York.  It’s a rather formidable amount of experience, and even if he weren’t an exceptionally good lawyer (he is), the experience alone would teach quite a bit.

Yesterday, I saw a throwaway twit by Brian Tannebaum, who seems to always have a great deal to say on twitter, with a link to an online “work wanted” website for a third year law student, who shall remain nameless for my purposes. that offered some gems:

Being in the courtroom is his passion – and forte.

Never taking “No” for an answer, [3L] will travel to the end of the earth, utilizing all available resources and working relentlessly for his clients. He is passionate about his work and sets the bar high; his work ethic allows him to achieve whatever he sets his mind to.

There is no doubt that he will go far as a trial lawyer, because of his prowess in the courtroom but also the goodness of his heart.

Mind you, this was written when he was a third year law student.  He’s no longer a law student, but unemployed.  From the perspective of a lawyer, reading a law student’s self-assessment of his “prowess in the courtroom” isn’t just good for a chuckle, but a reflection of a person who lacks a firm grasp on his skills.  No law student can credibly claim “prowess in the courtroom.”

But this excess isn’t limited to law students. Lawyers, employing the magic of the internet, are constrained to write things about themselves that test the boundaries of propriety, often going far into the stratosphere of sheer fantasy.  One young lawyer claimed that he had “personally won hundreds of cases” before being admitted to the bar.  He’s since shown the maturity to change his puffery.

It’s common for lawyers to describe themselves as “prominent”, “respected” and all manner of honored, though this is merely self-characterization, an effort to promote themselves by attributing qualities to themselves that no one else has ever done.  This is no doubt intended to play well with potential clients, under the assumption that clients won’t be able to figure out that calling oneself prominent isn’t the same as being called prominent (a) by someone else, and (b) by someone whose opinion matters.  It’s a lot like attributing expertise to oneself, when it’s unrecognized by the rest of the legal world.

Others, some very serious and hard-working lawyers, are busy on the internet offering their thoughts and ideas on how to try cases.  While some of these lawyers have interesting ideas, and many which are well-conceived if hardly controversial, they are often lawyers who are trying low-level type cases such as DUI/DWI, without juries or particularly serious downsides.  They are similarly lawyers whose experience spans made a dozen real trials at most in their five years of experience.  They believe they have a lot to offer, and perhaps they do.  But to my buddy, with his more than 200 trials, it all seems pretty goofy and self-aggrandizing.

When I was a punk kid lawyer sitting in a suite of much older, more experienced, more accomplished lawyers, the end of the day was always marked by a the guys sitting around, telling stories.  These guys had some great stories, big name defendants and wild, crazy courtroom experiences.  They had done stuff.  I wanted to be a part of the group too.  Who doesn’t?  I wanted them to hear my stories, pat me on the back and welcome me to the fold of lawyers who had something worth listening to.  I wanted them to respect me.

So one day, after a particularly funny story about one of the lawyers fighting with the cops at a crime scene over who got to keep the pile of cash in the corner of the room, I decided to jump in and tell a story of mine.  The others guys sat quietly while I told my story, then immediately turned to each other and launched back into their bull session as if I wasn’t there.  The next day, one of the most senior, and most prominent, lawyers in the suite pulled me aside and, with his arm over my shoulders, told me that the others guys liked me, thought I would make a damn good lawyer one day, but to sit and listen, and keep my mouth shut. For now.

“We were all young once.  Give it time.”

No third year law student has “prowess in the courtroom,” and nobody can take someone seriously who makes such a ridiculous claim.  Give it time.