To listen to the fans of social media, it’s highest and best use is to trumpet your accomplishments so everyone can marvel at how fabulous you are.  Criminal defense lawyers have not only fallen into line with the use of social media as self-promotion, but some have gone so far as to give updates of their daily activities, no concern whatsoever of what information they’re giving up and whose lives they’re damaging in the process. 

But when Mark O’Mara started the George Zimmerman social media machine, contending that it would “irresponsible” to do otherwise, it gave me serious pause.  For decades, I’ve been doing it all wrong.

More than a decade ago, a guy sat down in my office chair to tell me about an investigation into a nationally renown non-profit for financial impropriety.  There were two primary targets of the investigation, and he was one.  The investigation eventually resulted in a big story in the media, one that rocked their niche. 

The other target was prominently named, and his lawyers gave press conferences and took calls from reporters.  No one, to this day, knows the name of my client outside of a very small circle of friends.  It was never mentioned in a single media report. He was not charged. He was not prosecuted. He continues to live his life in obscurity.  He couldn’t be happier.

To the extent humanly possible, my efforts have been directed at never handling a “high profile” case.  It’s not that the underlying cases weren’t newsworthy, but that a critical aspect of my responsibility was to prevent the handsome face of my client from ever appearing in the media.  Once that happens, their lives are changed, often ruined, no matter what the outcome of the case. Careers are destroyed. Futures lost.

It’s not that there aren’t opportunities to make a huge splash. Rumors of investigations spread, and calls from reporters come in.  Handling the calls is an art.  For some, the art is how to make sure your name is spelled right and your face makes it to page one, above the fold. For me, it was to kill the story, quash the rumors.  Nobody wants a boring story. Nobody wants a non-story.

There are times when you can’t stop the story, when the news has already broken and story is out there.  The question then is whether to feed the news cycle or do everything in your power to make it fade away.  There is always another huge story right around the corner, and memories are fleeting.  A small blurb on page 39 for one day is quickly forgotten, and if there is nothing interesting to write about, then chances are improved that it will never see a second story.

Or there can be a press conference, announcements, photo ops. Say something fascinating, controversial.  The reporters will hang on your every word.  For at least the few minutes while your story is top dog, you will feel like the most important person in the world.  You tell your client that you’re doing this all for him, to fight for him in the court of public opinion.  To salvage his reputation.  To protect him from the harsh words of the media.  And he will believe you as he watches his life ruined by the coverage of the worst experience in his life.  He trusts that you are doing the right thing, as you start to make calls to once-interested reporters who have moved on to other stories to tell them about what you plan to do next in your very fascinating case.

We’re experiencing a paradigm shift, where lawyers feel emboldened to promote themselves at every possible opportunity, even though it comes at the expense of their clients.  It’s almost inconceivable that a lawyer would do everything in his power to avoid publicity, the chance to get his name out there, to protect his client from the glare of the bright lights.  Isn’t this what we all want, to turn ourselves into momentary celebrities so that we can tell all our twitter followers what big time lawyers we are?

At Not Guilty, Mirriam Seddiq broke her silence the other and wrote:

If I had a dollar every time someone said to me “you must have some interesting stories” I’d have a whole lotta dollars. Probably like 20. Or maybe even 30. Oddly enough, I never tell anyone any of my stories. They are too personal and, for those of you criminal defense lawyers out there this comes as no surprise, they actually aren’t all that interesting. Or, the parts I think are interesting are probably not interesting to regular people.

So true. Whenever someone hears that I’m a criminal defense lawyer (I never tell anyone I do “white collar” defense, both because I despise the phrase and it’s pathetically pretentious), they immediately ask me whether I have any interesting case, and particularly whether I represent anyone in the media.  After all, that’s the indicia of importance, to have high profile clients who get as much airtime as the Kardashians.  I sadly tell them that I don’t do much of anything interesting, and I have no stories to tell. They wouldn’t be interested in knowing that if I’ve done my job well, they will never hear about any of my clients.

A story broke recently about an investigation I’ve been involved with for many years.  You won’t see my name in any of the media reports.  You won’t see my client’s name in any of the media reports. It’s like it never happened, and that’s how it should be.  And I’m just another nobody lawyer.  There are so many others in social media who are far more prominent. I know because they tell me so.