I feel self-conscious sometimes about the pessimism of this column with regard to law as a career path. That pessimism reflects what I see every day in my practice – miserable lawyers.
My experiences might be skewed as a result of self-selection. It makes sense that unhappy lawyers would seek a psychotherapist who is a former lawyer and writes a column like mine, and it makes sense that these same unhappy lawyers would write me letters and post comments on my site about their (mostly unhappy) experiences.
Also, in fairness, the country is in the midst of a deep recession. It’s hard to be happy at any career when you can’t find a job, or half the offices on your floor are empty and there isn’t enough work to go around and you’re worrying about whether you’ll have a job next week. I see clients from other industries who are also affected by the economic downturn, such as folks in the fashion and retail world, many of whom are struggling with long-term unemployment, and even bankruptcy and foreclosure. They’re not exactly brimming with high spirited fun either.
The difference is that those people love what they do. They’re just out of work.
With lawyers, even the ones who have well-paid jobs seem – mostly – unhappy.
Nevertheless, in keeping with this week’s theme of cheerful good times, we’re going to ignore them – and talk about happy lawyers. Bouncy, perky, downright merry, good-time lawyers.
I have seen a few happy lawyers. They exist, and they tend to fall into two groups.
The first group work in criminal law. I’ve met Legal Aid attorneys, prosecutors and even lawyers doing white collar defense, and they are often happy and like what they do. These are the guys who grew up wanting to be Atticus Finch or Perry Mason. They typically love their jobs, and are proud of what they do. Some Legal Aid lawyers have described their careers to me as a calling – they are deeply committed to their vital role in our society.
The other happy lawyers are the guys with lifestyle jobs – the ones who work normal hours, report to reasonable, supportive supervisors, and generally don’t mind being lawyers. Some quirky small practices fall into this “lifestyle” category. I’ve run into lawyers who specialize in employment contracts for fashion designers, run a “beverage and alcohol” group at a smallish west coast firm, or handle bi-lingual business for Chilean corporations operating in the US. It’s not so much about the work, but the laid-back, supportive atmosphere of these places. Going off the beaten path tends to let people relax – maybe because there’s less competition. I’ve seen a similar effect with lawyers who work in federal agencies and sometimes in-house counsel jobs, where – at least compared to big firms – the culture is friendly, the hours reasonable and the supervisors supportive.
Those two groups are the happy lawyers. They love the law, or at least don’t especially mind it.
The rest of the attorneys I treat – the vast majority – not so much.
So…what are the lessons to be learned from observing happy lawyers?
Here are some big ones:
You must escape the “billable” hour. Neither of the happy groups was obsessed with the “billable hour.” They don’t make a lot of money, so they can relax, and concentrate on the work.
Criminal lawyers often sincerely care about their clients, whether they are protecting an indigent defendant’s civil rights, or assisting law enforcement by prosecuting a criminal. This is important work, and it means something to them beyond a paycheck.
The lifestyle lawyers might not be quite so inspired, but they enjoy a pleasant environment with colleagues who respect and appreciate them.
One requirement for happiness, law-wise, is not working late or on weekends. It’s that simple. You need a life. A little fun with your colleagues helps, too. A bi-lingual lawyer from the Chilean-American firm told me the folks in his office get together for tapas and sangria every week. There’s no pressure to attend – it’s just a chance to unwind with friends and share a laugh. If you work at a big law firm, that might sound like an opium dream – but it exists. Remember, in the non-law world, colleagues become friendly and go out for dinner and drinks all the time. And they leave work at five. And no one yells at them. Really.
You must enjoy law. If you don’t like legal work, you’re not going to be happy doing it every day. That should be a no-brainer, but many people, when they go to law school, have no concept of what practicing law means, and you can’t acquire that knowledge by sitting in lectures or memorizing doctrine for exams. Plenty of law students talk about enjoying law school, or “learning to think like a lawyer” – but few know if they really – honestly – enjoy the day-to-day work that lawyers do. It isn’t for everyone. Some unhappy lawyers simply hate the work. It is detail-driven and if you’re not the type, can bore you to tears.
The criminal lawyers I’ve met usually enjoy the combative, exciting work of negotiating pleas and making a case in court. The happy lifestyle lawyers typically don’t mind the work they’re doing or actually like it.
In fairness, it’s tough sometimes to tell whether it’s the work that’s the problem. It’s easy to get caught up in the intellectual excitement of drafting a complex brief or memo, or preparing for a tense deposition, or sitting in the midst of a negotiation with millions of dollars hanging in the balance. Even doc review isn’t so bad if there’s a friendly atmosphere and interesting people to work with. But even interesting work stops being enjoyable when you put in eighty hour weeks, sacrifice having a social life and receive little or no appreciation for your skill or dedication.
Don’t compete with the pack – go your own way. Law can be endlessly competitive, and it’s easy to get caught up in fighting for that big law firm position and lose track of your own priorities. Most criminal law folks go their own way early on. They might be in the minority at the top law schools, but if that’s where your heart leads you, follow your gut – you might find happiness.
If you’re looking for a lifestyle job, it’s better to start early, too, since they’re hard to find. If you want a specialized boutique, or an in-house job in a particular industry, or a federal agency that concentrates in one area of law, do whatever you can now to tailor your resume to their needs.
Summary: Two big lessons – know yourself, and take care of yourself.
You should be in law because it speaks to who you are, and you honestly enjoy some aspect of the work lawyers do. Pursuing money or prestige isn’t going to make you happy. You must enjoy what you’re doing every day.
The second lesson is equally important. Even if you’re doing work you enjoy, you must make sure you are being treated well.
Yes, happy lawyers exist. If they seem the exception to the rule, it only highlights the challenges that lie ahead for anyone entering the legal field.
Know yourself. Take care of yourself.
Not exactly a startling directive to come from a psychotherapist – we’re all about awareness and self-care.
But for lawyers, this seems like important, and overdue advice. Heed it – and you might be one of the happy ones.
========
This piece is part of a series of columns presented by The People’s Therapist in cooperation with AboveTheLaw.com. My thanks to ATL for their help with the creation of this series.
If you enjoy these columns, please check out The People’s Therapist’s new book, Way Worse Than Being A Dentist: The Lawyer’s Quest for Meaning
I also heartily recommend my first book, an introduction to the concepts behind psychotherapy, Life is a Brief Opportunity for Joy
(Both books are also available on bn.com and the Apple iBookstore.)
The People's Therapist 
I agree with this post. I really do believe it’s about asserting control over your life. I have several friends that left big firm jobs and struck out on their own, some of them doing criminal defense and they’re much happier because they feel like they have more control over their lives.
I do document review but gravitate towards jobs with normal working hours so that I can focus on what I really love doing, which is painting and participating in various art exhibitions around the city. While the work itself can be tedious, under the right conditions and with enough flexibility, the projects allow me to have a life.
This is a great look at the practicalities of life after a law degree. I think so many people convince themselves to go to law school without an understanding of what it entails, let alone what comes after. Your article speaks to truths that I’m sure transcend the legal profession as well. Thanks for the insight and some very profound advice.
This is not an all-or-nothing proposition. You can work some late nights and weekends and still like your job and have a life. It’s when every day is a 12 hr day and the Sunday off becomes the rare exception that it becomes miserable.
I really enjoy all of your posts, this is a fantastic resource for lawyers lawyers-to-be.
I work in the corporate dept at a top biglaw firm in New York that is known for (a) unrelenting hours and (b) a relatively collegiate atmosphere, and it is a pretty good place to work, all in all. There are some like me who do not see a future in biglaw, so do there best to balance corporate work with meaningful probono and an active social life. Others seem to have a real intellectual curiousity for transactional work, which makes all the difference in whether you enjoy your work. If you find transaction work interesting (which I don’t, but can see how people enjoy the problem solving component), then you are likely to enjoy it, regardless of your hours.
Realist is right on…consider that those BigLaw nights of corporate law hell are tempered with some ease once a deal is done. I think one thing People’s T. also fails to recognize when lambasting the stress, hours, and anxiety associated with BigLaw is that there is an understood and recognized trade-off: $. LOTS of $. What other job (with the exception of finance/trading related jobs, which still are not a fixed guarantee) gives you nearly $200,000/year to start, before you are even 25 years old. Naturally, once can surmise that such a gaudy, excessively anomalous level of compensation for an “entry-level” job for a 20 something would correspondingly require more stress, anxiety, and hours than other jobs for that type of employee profile.
Of course, no one rationale and sensible can say such high levels of pay makes BigLaw completely palatable and happy-go-lucky…but what does a green BigLaw associate expect when getting paid such humongous amounts of money from the beginning, in addition to the take-out dinners, happy hours, marble office bathrooms, etc.? BigLaw does not realize how good they have it…the worst scenario is to be billing 2000+ hours/year while getting paid $40,000-60,000, which is all too abundant nowadays. BigLaw associates should be grateful, as they are, relatively, in they are in the least of evils: the work of this profession is utterly tedious and miserable, and so the best you can hope for is to get paid a lot of $ to do it.
One question: was it always like this? Were lawyers always the unhappy group? Were there always books and lectures and all that aimed at helping lawyers get out of law? Or is this something more recent? Did the lawyers in our grandparents’ day actually enjoy what they did? You hear the middle-aged partners — the 50s and 60s set — saying that it wasn’t like this when they were coming up, but it seems like older folks always feel that way, that everything was better back when they were 25.
I agree that public interest lawyers are generally happier (there are studies out there somewhere that confirm this, and I’m sorry I don’t have the time to look for one right now), but the vast majority of our jobs have nothing to do with criminal law. In fact, most legal aid organizations are barred from doing any sort of criminal work. I would also add that I know plenty of private practice criminal law attorneys who are the unhappiest people I know.
So very true. I worked for a corporation (Con Edison) in their legal dept. Attys didn’t make big money but had their evenings and weekends and visited the local bar after work. There was also no barrier between attys and support staff. The law firm atmoshere is totally opposite and all work is a rush.
Thanks for the blog, Im new to it, but this article spoke volumes to me. I recently went to work for a Federal Agency, and although I’m out of the courtroom, and I miss it, I got my life back. My health and stress levels were becoming issues, I feel much freer, and only work weekends when I want to work them! (and get overtime for it 😉 )
Not as much pay, but the money wasn’t going to help if I wasnt around 🙂
thanks!
You make some great points. I know some very unhappy lawyers who went into law without understanding the profession or themselves. I also know lawyers who love the work and hate not having an outside life. Some of both think they are trapped by the golden handcuffs.
I think that to be really happy in a career you must love the actually work that you do and it must fit your specific personality. I loved working in BigLaw. I found law as a second career. It fit my personality much better than working in a lab. I’m an ENTJ and a Kolbe action style of a QuickStart/FactFinder. My problem was that I had twins. The lifestyle is unrelenting even in a supportive law firm. It is set up for someone who does not care for children. Mothers who do trial work have a very difficult life. One of my friends sent breast milk home for her baby when she was at trial.
Since I left BigLaw I started a website, lookilulu.com, to show girls how to find rewarding careers that fit. I’ve profiled a dozen happy women lawyers, many of whom have left BigLaw to pursue different types of legal careers. I also have a little IP practice now that is possible in some types of law. Quality of life is certainly more important than millions of dollars, especially when you have children.
Erin, it wasn’t always like this. It, like most dreadful workplace norms, came along with the baby boomers; the most pathetic and disgusting generation this country has ever seen.
I worked in BigLaw litigation for 7 years. During that time, I worked on holidays, weekends, canceled numerous vacations, and missed out on countless social engagements because of work obligations. Also during that time, I can probably count the number of times on 1 finger that I was thanked for any of the foregoing. The projects were always “urgent” (as if someone would die if not completed on time), and rarely, if ever, interesting in any way. But yes, I made a lot of money. Recently, after surrendering 7 years of my life to the firm, I was terminated. My fatal mistake was choosing to have a child, then asking for a reduction in hours (and pay) so that I could see my child at some point before he went to sleep at night. As frustrating as this has been, I already realize that it is probably the best thing to have happened in the history of my career, as it prevented me from wasting any more of my life at the firm, or any firm.
To those of you congratulating yourselves on riding the money train: don’t let the money lull you. If all that matters is money, know that there are faster, easier ways to earn even more money — like starting a high-class escort service. Let’s see how much the money matters after 7 years of BigLaw practice has ground you down into a fine, powdery substance…
As a career prosecutor, I would agree with your rationale as to why I love my job. I would also add that perhaps another reason that criminal lawyers enjoy their work is because it is the one area of the law that everyone “gets,” because at its core it is about adherence to the social contract. To me, crime is endlessly fascinating because it is never quite the same. I love the process of investigating cases, unraveling the backstories that compel defendants to do what they do and sussing out the most compelling facts to present to a jury.
I read somewhere that the people are happiest in their careers are doing something that relates to what made them happy as a child (ie a kid who played with dollhouses, is a happy interior decorator). This seems to be true for me. As a child and teen, I was a singer and was involved in school theatre productions. Now, as a prosecutor, I love nothing more than summing up in front of a jury. And the fact that what I am “performing” isn’t make-believe but has real impact on the victimized is beyond thrilling. Not that there isn’t mundane crap and pettiness on plenty of occasions and even 15 years in, I don’t make what a first year at Biglaw makes. But especially in those moments of closing argument, I feel like I am the luckiest person alive I get to do what I do. If your career never makes you feel that way, then you have to figure what does.
That is all fine and dandy unless you have gigantic law school debt and took on a mortgage before you realized how much you (1) hate practicing law and (2) hate the long hours.
Here is another thing to think about- the cost of entry into the legal profession is enormous ($100K+) even at public schools. The reality of the situation is that very few people get those Big Law jobs which allow them to pay the debt back in a few years and move on to things they enjoy. The other 95% take jobs where, although they make more than the general population, it is not nearly enough to pay more than your monthly payment. So even if you don’t like what you do, you are stuck because it is not feasible to start over in a different profession (even in a good economy).
This post really struck a chord. I used to work in Biglaw and hated it. I had great colleagues, the pay was incredible, but the hours were brutal, the stress constant and the partners generally awful and themselves unhappy. I gave up too much. Too many evenings, weekends, holidays and too much time away from family and friends. Money may make some people happy, but it sure wasn’t worth the trade off for me. There were certainly other associates that seemed to make better peace with it. Most of them saw the job as a stepping stone or a temporary way to save up a lot of money. Some just really liked the money and prestige.
I now work in what your post refers to as a quirky small practice. The hours are great, the pay, while not Biglaw pay, is good, I work with caring and supportive people that love to spend time with their families and friends, and the work is mostly interesting. As nice as the massive paycheck was at my old firm, I wouldn’t go back. Having a life is too valuable.
They shouldn’t let 22 year old kids go to law school. They should make all applicants work in the real world for a few years to figure a few things out, namely, what makes them tick and how much a dollar really is. Maybe then we could cut down on all the angry diatribes on the internet from furious attorneys chained to their soul-sucking BigLaw jobs with golden handcuffs.
I’ve noticed that many of the recovering attorneys posting online have moved into creative fields – art, music, interior design. If you’ve got a creative soul, of course you won’t be happy in a world of technical paperwork! But if you’re like me and worked for several years doing complex federal government paperwork and enjoyed it so much you thought you’d go back to school to learn to do even more complex paperwork, you’d be more satisfied with your choice.
My family is filled with lifestyle attorneys who are truly and deeply satisfied. They have niche practices where they are the subject matter experts within their field for their region. They set their own hours, take vacations, make their children’s recitals and, oh yes, set their own comfortable rates. Why BigLaw is the legal ideal and not that, I’ll never understand.
Agreeing with Angela – when most people say “legal aid,” they’re referring to law offices that represent clients who cannot afford attorneys in civil actions. For instance, the Legal Services Corporation. http://www.lsc.gov/ It sounds like you’re thinking of public defenders when you say “legal aid” in the post.
I’m an attorney for a legal aid program, and I’m very happy and really like my job. Would I like to make more money? Of course, but plenty of folks who make 4x my salary want to make more money, too. I don’t think most of us are psychologically capable of feeling that we have enough (or too much) money.
Melissa and Angela,
In NYC, the Legal Aid Society provides lawyers for indigent defendants in criminal cases. Therefore, our shorthand for public defenders is legal aid. I’m guessing because Will went to law school here, practiced here and now treats NYC based lawyers, he adopted our jargon.
Interesting! Thanks for sharing. That’s the only place I’ve heard of the organization for criminal representation for indigent defendants being called legal aid.
In Georgia, “legal aid” means indigent criminal defense. Legal help for indigents in civil matters is handled by a non-profit called “Georgia Legal Services.”
[…] the answer might not be terribly satisfactory. So how about a lawyer turned therapist instead. The People’s Therapist: It’s hard to be happy at any career when you can’t find a job, or half the offices on your […]
A colleague just referred me to this blog, probably because for the past 20 years I’ve been the sales coach to senior partners at BigLaw firms, helping them convert their fancy Rolodexes into clients. I’ve certainly observed all of what previous posters cite about BigLaw, which occasionally caused me to scratch my head and wonder why anyone would tolerate such a regime for a lifetime.
My theory about BigLaw’s attraction is that of innate competitiveness. Throughout their secondary and undergraduate education, smart people (particularly those born into households that value education and see advanced education as an inherent expectation) are long accustomed to competing for grades, awards, positions on committees, etc. It’s not surprising that they’d continue to compete to get into the best law schools and get hired by the most prestigious firms.
The stratospheric salaries are — or, I should say, were — merely how the firms competed and kept score among themselves for what they deemed the “best” talent, i.e., those scoring at the top of the “best” law schools. Nobody ever said, “This kid is definitely worth $200k.” They simply knew that that was the price of admission in the Top Tier Talent Club. It’s no different than salaries in pro sports, where scarce talent commands amounts that many find obscene, but whose teams simply see it as a market rate. BigLaw firms who’ve managed to keep PPEP well above $1m/yr could afford to do so. Temporarily, they don’t have to, but that will change within a year or so as prices for talent creep back up.
The biggest shift I see is that so many formerly-contented “service partners” with no personal business portfolio have found themselves under intense pressure to begin generating business. Since few are able to do so quickly, if at all, most have experienced meaningful earnings reductions, often accompanied by feelings of being marginalized. Where formerly the “success metrics” favored their blend of technical skill and ability to get along with their partners, modern BigLaw metrics are heavily weighted towards business origination, which most decidedly does not favor them.
Many think “well, I’ll just do biglaw for a few years and then do what I really want to do which is [environmental law, human rights lawyer, executive dir of group that helps the oppressed, etc.].” The problem is that whatever skills you gain at biglaw, if any, won’t help you get a job doing something radically different. If, for example, your only work experience is corporate litigation, then your career becomes corporate litigation.
this is a great article. my fav piece of advice here is to “go your own way.” I know a lot of ppl who ended up in law school b/c they didn’t really know what else to do or b/c someone else besides themselves wanted them to attend law school. I think I went there b/c at the time i didn’t really know what “my own way” was or if anyone would pay me to go “my own way”
luckily I figured a few things out during the journey
[…] Meyerhofer: what happy lawyers are like Share this:TwitterFacebookLike this:LikeBe the first to like this post. This entry was posted in Law, Work by Publius. Bookmark the permalink. […]
Great article with some great points. I am somewhat unusual in that I was a cop full time and went to law school at night. So, I had ten years of police law enforcement experience before I became a Prosecutor (in southeast PA). While I have loved it at times, I would be in a much better position financially (and mentally) if I had never left police work. I have never made as much in my 10 plus years as a lawyer as I did my last year as a cop (2001)! Now, I find myself unemployed (I was let go recently by the newly elected DA who happened to be a former Public Defender when the guy who hired me didn’t get relected) and cannot find any work. I can’t break out into a new practice area because I am stereotyped in Criminal Law, having 20 years of law enforcement experience. Now I am forced to try to hang my own shingle doing criminal defense on a shoestring budget (no money for advertising), which I am loathe to do. What makes matters worse, is that I would love to do Forensic Psychology, but don’t have the money or ability to devote 5 years full-time to a Doctoral Program. While I have enjoyed some aspects of trial work, and while I was good at it, I am in no way in love with it. I have tried and been unable to find work outside the law…my experience is that employers see a former lawyer as someone who can either start trouble for them (b/c you can’t be bullied) or they beleive you will leave for greener pastures at the earliest opportunity. Now, I am too old to go back into law enforcement, and I would do anything to be able to find another line of work. But, the reality is that I am trapped in this profession. The worst part is I am only 45, and I have 20 plus years of this misery to look forward to!
My question might be simple or terribly complex…how do you get to the point of “know thyself?” i thought I enjoyed law, thought I knew what the day-to-day was like, both of my parents are attorneys of different sorts, both LOVE being lawyers, and I worked for both of them before going to law school. Law school was okay, I had had such a boring life up until then that I partied a bit too much, but I enjoyed the classes, and studied a little bit. Then I got my first job and it was okay, but not really legal work. A lot of administrative/regulation driven work, but I enjoyed working with clients, though not the “law stuff”, even though it paid pennies and I was working 80 hour weeks. I got a “better” job working 40 hour weeks for dollars instead of pennies, but still not something I would get rich doing, and was pretty miserable.
A friend of mine recently told me that in order for her to go to work at her dream job every day she’s in therapy and on antidepressants. I thought this was my dream job and now I wish I’d gotten into therapy and antidepressants, but I didn’t and I no longer have the job. I was told my boss would not pass me on probation (later found out I’m the 7th person not to pass probation since this person became the boss, so not terribly shocking) but I might have been able to talk her into keeping me, at least for a few more weeks while I looked for a job but I just couldn’t do it. My urge to defend myself from the ridiculous shite she kept throwing at me overrode my common boot-licking sense.
So…now what? I’ve “hung my shingle” and several of my clients came with me from my last job. I think I have some opportunities here to build my own firm, which should be great, right? No boss, nobody yelling at me, (except maybe bill collectors) etc…but I just…HATE it. I spent 5 hours in the car on Friday and at least 80% of it was sans radio just staring out the window trying frantically to think of anything else I could do with my life that would allow me to pay off my law school loans before I turn 60…and coming up blank.
On the other hand, I am sitting at my dining room table, in the sun, with a great view, drafting an anti-slapp motion on contract. Life could definitely be worse, I just can’t get over the feeling that it could be SO. MUCH. BETTER.