For all their bluff and swagger, the readers of  Above the Law aren’t stupid.  The fact that they don’t look to the  Lawyerist for clues on how to become a gainfully employed lawyer proves it.  Sure, they spend their days trying to dream up the snarkiest ridicule, to prove who within the community is the wittiest, but that’s how sophomoric communities work.

Working lawyers pay little attention to such nonsense, as their manhood isn’t connected to how many “likes” they get and, well, they’re busy working cases and making money.  The little snarkers secretly wish they have worthwhile things to consume their empty days, but they will never admit their feelings of inadequacy. To do so would bring ridicule from the community, depriving them of their only comfort.

There was a shift in the force when David Lat and his robot overlords at Breaking Media persuaded Mark Herrmann to write a column about his experience as in-house counsel.  Few people noticed, as their attention was diverted by the anchors dragging ATL down at the same time.  Jay Shepherd. Some gal who was so ashamed of herself that she only used her first name, Valerie.  And Adrian Dayton, the poor Paris Hilton of twitter, left to stand alone when even @Rex7 realized he needed a job to eat. 

The readers at ATL, for all the snark they could muster, realized something. Mark Herrmann, unlike the others, was real. He was what many hoped they could someday be, a successful, respected lawyer. As they grew to ignore the insipid writers, Herrmann delivered a world they could only see from a great distance, the world of real lawyers. 

This shift reflected the reality behind the children’s playground antics, that they really want to be lawyers but just don’t know how. Law school certainly didn’t teach them enough, and their infantile arrogance precludes any mentor from wasting time around them.  They pretend to have great futures as Masters of the Biglaw Universe, knowing only too well that they hate their contract work and will never get a corner office. They are scared.

And in a gesture of love, Elie Mystal and David Lat have thrown them a life preserver.  They have brought aboard the newest ATL columnist who, like Mark Herrmann, is a real lawyer who has the experience and knowledge to provide insight to the world of lawyering they would otherwise never know.  No, it doesn’t spell the end of gossip, lurid images and sophomoric sex jokes.  Those are the things that hold the community together, their common bond like a transitional Teddy Bear.

In a column underwhelmingly called “The Practice,” the new columnist is  Brian Tannebaum.

Brian gains nothing from this gig.  The “fee for service” won’t pay for key lime pie to be shipped up north to a deserving recipient.  He will not get a client.  Then again, he doesn’t need to post on the internet to get clients, to the chagrin of those whose lives are dedicated to convincing busy lawyers that they cannot succeed unless they do so.  The readers can’t grasp this, as they can’t conceive of a universe where they aren’t the center. They imagine that it’s their allure that brings real lawyers to ATL, to seek their approval and adoration. But in their hearts, they know that while it may be true of others, it’s not the case for Tannebaum.

I knew of Tannebaum’s decision to join ATL in advance of his first column.  He was reluctant.  He has too much work to do, too many clients to represent.  To spend time writing something that might actually improve their understanding of life and law is a time suck he couldn’t really afford.  And, the big question: Are these sniveling, snarky whiners worth the effort?

Brian asked me what I thought. He explained his dilemma. I told him that he certainly had strong and valid reasons not to do a column at ATL.  He’s too busy, and client come first.  He has no use for the “notoriety,” unlike Jay Shepherd, who needed a springboard from inconsequential lawyer to social media consultant.  He makes no pretense of being a great writer, having a tendency to use the wrong word, tense, punctuation and spelling, and here he would be writing for the failed law review wonks who are thrilled to pick apart grammar rather than admit their misery.

“No, Brian,” I said, “there’s no reason in the world why you should waste your time on this fool’s errand.”

But Brian found one reason, that if he didn’t find the time, make the effort, give it a try, then these pathetic little misfits would have no one offering any insight into the real, hard, cold world of the small firm/solo lawyer.  Shitlaw, as the readers refer to it.  Shitlaw, if only they could figure out how to do it successfully, and enjoy the practice and life that could be theirs if they don’t screw it all up.

There were a lot of comments to Brian’s introductory post.  Some are funny.  Some are typical nonsense. Some demonstrate that their authors lack the insight to grasp basic ideas.  One called it “ironic” that Brian would use social media to bash it. This one has no chance and should get his papers in for the assistant manager job at Dairy Queen immediately.

But there was also a surprising undercurrent of recognition that these desperate little wise-asses realize that this Stetson Law grad, this guy whose grammar makes one cringe, has what they secretly dream of having someday.  They can make fun of his appearance, his writing, his lack of Biglaw credentials all they want. Brian couldn’t care less. He has a damn fine practice, and he’s got the respect of real lawyers.  They have neither.

And there’s no one who can dish it out, or take it, like Brian.  I suspect the smarter ones at ATL know only too well that they finally have someone who’s got the goods, and while they will continue their snarky ways, they will read what he writes and learn from Tannebaum.  They have much to learn from his charity, and it’s up to them to decide whether Tannebaum is on a fool’s errand.