I raced downstairs to break the news: I’m leaving. I got a new, non-legal job at a major online book-seller.
The reception at the firm gym wasn’t what I expected. My favorite trainer looked pensive, mumbled “good for you, man,” then gave me a half-hearted fist bump. The other two trainers, both women, exchanged looks. One grimaced, and quipped to the other, “see, I told you – the nice ones always leave.” She caught my glance, and turned serious. “Hey, it’s good news. We’ll miss you, that’s all.”
The nice ones always leave.
My client ran into this phenomenon recently. She’s a first year, assigned to a major case with two senior associates. The partner’s missing in action, so she and the two seniors are running the show.
The good news is the seniors are great guys – and, as a result, she’s been one of the few not-unhappy lawyers I’ve seen all year.
“They’re just plain nice,” she told me. “The hours suck, the work itself is kind of boring, but nothing’s that bad if you’re working with people you like. Sometimes, we even have fun.”
One guy was super thoughtful, and bent over backwards to take time to explain things and create a sense of teamwork. The other was a bit of a kook, with a goofy sense of humor and a light-hearted way of defusing crises.
Then, Monday last week, the firm distributed bonuses. On Tuesday the first senior associate gave his notice. On Wednesday the other said he’s leaving, too.
Neither of the seniors said why they were taking off. Maybe it was the demanding, ungrateful client – maybe the partner, who never acknowledged their hard work. Maybe they were just burnt out in general.
As a result of their departure, an office that used to be fun has turned grim. It’s like watching a friendly college dorm turn overnight into der Führerbunker. The partner is melting down. He pulled in another senior associate, an anal-retentive who doesn’t know what he’s doing. People are hiding in their offices. The atmosphere among the paralegals is funereal. Even the contract attorneys look more depressed than usual, if that’s possible.
“It’s a shit storm,” my client said. “And from my perspective, a lose-lose proposition. The partner’s overwhelmed, the new senior is clueless and I don’t know whether to try to help – and get yelled at – or lay low and hide – and get yelled at.”
There’s no winning, and it’s no fun.
I went through the same thing at Sullivan & Cromwell. The only senior associates I enjoyed working with were Gil Cornblum and one other guy, and they both quit within a few months. (For what happened to Gil after that, read “When the Emptiness Swallows you Whole.”)
Both times, it profoundly sucked.
The nice ones always leave. That’s the general rule.
Sometimes they don’t even have to leave – they just fade away. That’s what’s happened to another client of mine. He’s a naturally terrific guy – smart, witty, charming. If he hadn’t fallen into law, he’d be a comedy writer (and still might be.) He’ll have the whole room cracking up in five minutes flat.
When this guy arrived at his firm, he did what he always does – make friends and entertain people. Everyone knew right away he was one of the nice ones.
This week, he turned a corner.
“I got a call from a partner,” he told me. “He said he needed to see me in his office, and I thought, this is it – I’m getting laid off.”
Business was slow. He hadn’t billed more than 100 hours the last few months. He hated pulling overnighters the first couple years at the firm. Now he was bored and frazzled from the downtime – and waiting for the nudge.
“So I get to the partner’s office, and he looks up from his desk and says, ‘The firm is distributing bonuses, and you will be receiving x dollars. Congratulations.’
“That was it. All I could think was damn, I thought this would be the nudge – I’d finally be out of there. Then I realized how much I was hoping this would be the nudge.”
That’s when he knew he needed to leave. But his loans are over $100k.
He decided to do the slow fade.
“I’m a ghost,” he told me. “I barely exist. I used to entertain everyone at lunch, go to the office parties, take the summer associates out – all that stuff. Now I go to the gym at lunchtime, keep my office door closed, and never say anything to anyone. I’m there, but I’m not there.”
That’s the slow fade.
I remember slowly fading at S&C. I was a lively, amusing presence initially. Then I crashed and turned into a basket case. Finally I pulled back, and started to disappear, until I was barely a presence at all. Then I left.
I watched other “nice ones” go through the process, fading, then departing, one after another.
Those who remained – un-faded and more ubiquitous than before – weren’t “the nice ones.” They were the lawtistic jerks with chips on their shoulders, the obsessive workaholics, the control freaks, the psycho screamers, the unconscious neurotics broadcasting their misery with sloppy clothes, eccentric personal hygiene or weird physical tics.
The bright, interesting ones? That thoughtful guy you met during the summer program and used to talk books with during the opening months of first year? Long gone.
Then there are the ones who never, ever leave: the “deeply un-nice” ones. Every firm has at least a few guys like that. They tend to get nicknames. You know, “the beast,” “the machine,” “the evil” – that guy, the guy everyone in the building hates, the one even the paralegals and the secretaries and the librarian and the cleaning staff and the guard downstairs in the lobby hope will somehow go away. That guy. The one who doesn’t merely drink the Kool-ade, he brews it.
That guy will stick around – in fact, he’ll make partner. It’s as certain as death and taxes. If everyone – every single sane person – is praying to stop it happening, even the atheists are imploring their higher powers to intercede and foil the obscenity of that creep making partner… I guarantee you, he’s a shoo-in. He’ll be managing partner. A name partner. Emeritus partner. A legend at the firm, with a portrait hanging in the reception area. In the distant future, a computer-generated hologram of that creep will reach out to shake hands with each and every visitor to the firm each and every day, for all eternity.
The nice ones always leave.
========
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 
That’s because the Nice Ones aren’t dedicated to Winning!
If they had the fire in their bellies, then they would understand how important Winning! is to The Firm and they would embrace The Firm and embrace Winning!
It’s not about making friends, health, or being nice. It’s about Winning! Because Winning! will make up for any other holes in your life by filling them up with Winning!ness.
In the case of much of BigLaw, Winning! is some kind of admixture of global prestige, personal glory, billing 20 hours all day every day, and making more money than all of your peers.
And they make tiger blood by sending little paralegal succubi/incubi to drain the blood of the newest associates every night, while they think they’re safe asleep in their beds. [cue maniacal laughter and hand rubbing].
The tiger blood, with Starbucks, keeps them Winning!
The People’s Therapist is locked into a self-protective mindset that “the nice ones always leave,” that law firms are cruel places to work, yada yada yada, based primarily on his own sad experience. Basically, he sees what he wants to see. I feel bad that his clients have to endure this narrow view.
Gerald – the People’s Therapist does not express a narrow view, but one held widely among associates at law firms, at least in my personal experience being currently employed at a large law firm. If you have a different experience, would be nice to hear about it, instead of just shooting down the views expressed here.
Gerald,
I have heard this phrase so many times at multiple firms. Most secretaries at large law firms have probably uttered this phrase at least once. If you haven’t heard this before, you haven’t been in practice long, or perhaps you haven’t given people around you reason to think you are one of the “nice ones.” I have always said something similar because I believe that the well-adjusted always leave. I stuck around big law way too long, but it was long enough to see that there are so few exceptions to this rule. And, frankly, I expect that those exceptions will likely leave someday too.
The last two paragraphs are SO true. The most reviled, evil, and hateful ones always make partner and always end up running the place. Ugh.
SCN says:
“The last two paragraphs are SO true. The most reviled, evil, and hateful ones always make partner and always end up running the place. Ugh.”
And this is why we have a problem. Seriously.
Dont forget the churners! They’ll be there too
By far, the top question I get from “the nice ones”is how to stay nice while working all day every day with people like “the beast.”
Being dedicated to “Winning!” won’t do it (as we all know), that just turns you into “the beast.”
The best piece of practical advice I’ve gleaned from my research, is meditating in some way, even a power nap. Taking a 10-15-minute break mid-afternoon, in silence, with the brain dis-engaged from work mode, is like getting a few hours sleep.
I’m thinking of starting a campaign “0.2 for You”
I can’t quite tell how you much you are joking and how much you are serious, but “0.2 for You” is a truly great idea. You should do it; you could help a lot of people.
“0.2 for You” is my new mantra!
Will, this was one of your better posts, in my humble opinion – but seriously, the picture of people escaping Saigon is what you picked for this post? You do realize there is a big difference between escaping a Communist dictatorship and leaving Big Law, right? Please say yes!
Ummm…I think this is where the concepts of “humor” and “irony” come into play. I know – they’re not exactly taught in law school, but I persist in clinging to my faith in their existence and utility.
Right, people escaping for their very lives from the most murderous ideology in human history is funny. My family laughs all the time about their time in the gulags. I see it now. Not sure I see the irony in this either. I’m pretty sure irony is a statement or action that have an effect opposite its original intention. How is this ironic or funny in any way?
Springtime for Hitler and Germany! Winter for Poland and France!…Somehow or other my Eastern European Jewish family is able to laugh at The Producers. I guess that’s ironic. And I guess the famous photo of people fleeing during the collapse of Saigon was meant to be ironic juxtaposed against the concept of unhappy lawyers fleeing big firms. Maybe you need to share my twisted sense of humor. Did Mel Brooks get comments like this?
I’m Jewish, I think Springtime for Hitler is funny too, in that it mocks Hitler and yes, is ironic in the sense that it is light fare in contrast to what we know is something very serious. But if, say in your next post, you had the office building of a major corporate firm and next to it the gates of Auschwitz with its sign “Arbeit Macht Frei” (Work makes you free), no one would find it funny, just bad taste, even for someone with a twisted sense of humour. But since you seem to understand that big firms are not as serious or as bad as North Vietnam, perhaps your next post could be about giving your patients some much needed perspective on their personal “hell”.
“The Fade” begins the hour after that end-of-year review where you realize you will never make partner or that moment when you realize you have no desire to do so.
It is rather interesting that people working a business model based on a ponzi scheme would chastize so heavily those underlings that have no desire to be partner.
Tell a co-worker that you dont want to make partner at a bar and the response will be a look of astonishment, followed by “What, not make partner? Are you serious? The partners here are so great to work with! XFirm is so different than all the others. If you just buckle down and bill more hours I am sure you would make partner.
Unlike rock and roll, in law, it truly is better to fade away than to burnout.
I believe it is more of a pyramid scheme than a Ponzi scheme. Otherwise, I agree.
Like rock and roll, the thing about not trusting anyone over 30 still works, though (if they are partners).
It’s not a Ponzi scheme. You’ve just destroyed your credibility.
I knew from my first day at S&C (1986) that I wasn’t going to, and didn’t intend to, make partner. I was too old (graduated law school at 39) and from an insufficiently elite school (Fordham, in the tax department where all the other lawyers were Harvard, Yale, Columbia and NYU). Anyway, I wanted the big-firm credential so I could go into teaching, which I eventually did, and the money didn’t hurt, with two kids nearing college age.
Nonetheless, it was hard not to get caught up in the “ethic.” We probably had the worst bunch of senior associates anywhere, most of whom are now partners, or, in one case, making even more money at Goldman Sachs. But still, one wanted to be seen as at least as smart as the Ivy League types.
But, by the third and fourth years there, I was doing the slow fade that Will describes. Luckily, I had a really intriguing pro bono case (“innocent spouse” issue, before the tax code was revised) that took up something like 600 hours in my last year. I think that was approximately 99% of the entire tax department’s pro bono total, but it gave me something to do besides hiding in the office avoiding more mindless assignments for Goldman and GE.
Got my final bonus check in June, 1990, signed it over to the bursar at my daughter’s college, and quit at the end of the week.
Will, I generally agree with much of what you write about BIGLAW (though my own shop seems to be somewhat more humane). I do wonder, however, whether all of our collective complaining is in some way a result of being members of the pampered generation or two generations? 75 years ago, people routinely worked as hard as today’s lawyers do just to eek out a living and feed their families, and even today in many parts of the world 12-14 hour days 6-7 days a week are commonplace.
My point is not to downplay how terrible a law firm is. I am just describing my own struggle with breaking out. It seems difficult to complain about our lot when, until 75 years ago (and perhaps in many places today) our condition would be the subject of envy by most people–and not just because they did not know the realities of what we go through–but because they worked just or almost as hard for less money. And, to be frank, I can’t help but fear that as our “economy of illusion” fades away into a new prolonged recession and lower standard of living new world order, the rest of society is going to be in far worse shape than we are. More than the current pay, it’s this fear of the future that keeps me locked-in here.
You mean the era of cheap energy? Who knows whether it will be replaced with nuclear power.
However, the era of cheap everything is ending with the recent commodity spike. Jeremy Grantham has a nice rant on this over at http://www.gmo.com.
That doesn’t mean that BigLaw (or law) will be safe, by any means. That means economic volatility and social weirdness.
Hard physical work (e.g. farming) isn’t the same as law firm insanity. The problem is that we never managed to translate material and energy abundance into anything that made sense and was sustaniable (meaning no exponential growth) from a human perspective.
Now, if we had our heads screwed on right, we would figure out a way to make firm life better for people from a humanist (at least) perspective.
Slave,
Here’s the difference: The people you are referring to do it to feed their families and associates in biglaw do it for, I don’t know, a nicer house, nicer car, private school for their kids, nice vacations, etc.
I think that when people do something only for the money, its impossible to be happy. And in biglaw, I have met very few people who work there because they enjoy what they are doing or do it out of absolute necessity.
Will’s column on the “Provider” touched on this point, but I think the reason why biglaw makes you unhappy is because, for the most part, the only reward is money and money, baby, can’t buy you love.
I have also noticed that commenters have applied the following logic to Will’s advice on leaving biglaw: Poor people are unhappy, and leaving biglaw will make me unhappy, so I cannot leave biglaw. While your ventures outside biglaw may fail and you may become poor, hell, if you stay in biglaw, you will most likely (or certainly) be unhappy.
The other thing about commenters who criticize Will’s columns is that most of them either seem like jerks (so no creditability as to their positive opinions on biglaw) or give examples of how its different for them at their firms not realizing that it is they who are in the minority at least for biglaw.
Jenny says:
“The people you are referring to do it to feed their families and associates in biglaw do it for, I don’t know, a nicer house, nicer car, private school for their kids, nice vacations, etc.”
You forgot achievement.
To achieve BigLaw means to have successfully completed a stellar high school/college/law school course with respect to your GPA.
You won the academic part of life. You competition has been relegated to the outer darkness of less than BigLaw practice.
The next step is to achieve greatness in the working world, which involves the acquisition of massive amounts of cash than can then be used to, uh, keep score to make sure that you are still doing better than your competition. I think.
However, unlike school, your competition doesn’t stay defeated. Some still want to achive BigLaw and take your place.
So, you can’t get off the treadmill of being an associate, and then a partner within BigLaw, and then a senior partner, and then you get kicked out at 65, and then you have to start your own practice.
That happened to one attorney I know. It was sad. To achive what should have been permanent greatness and then be tossed aside.
The moral of this story?
Don’t let yourself get older than 65.
Interesting post. I would like to hear Will’s take on this issue.
I had family who farmed (a few generations back) and it may have been hard work, but they did not hate it. Not only that, but long days (and theirs were not, at least as reported to me, 16-hour or even 14-hour days) are different if they are focused on physical vs. mental labor.
I did way more important things leading a mock deployment in the military than I have ever done in law, because even in exercises, people can die. You need to keep your people safe, warm, fed, and healthy. I got a hypothermic colleague treatment when everyone else was afraid to speak up, and got one of my supervisors treated after he started showing signs of altitude sickness. But even at the worst of those times in the military, I will bet you that I was not as screwed up, physically or stresswise, as I have been in the law.
I found this to be an excellent post, notwithstanding the fact that I don’t accept the premise. For example, this was the first time that I’ve heard the phrase “lawtistic” – seems a perfect way to describe many of my S&C colleagues. I’ll be sure to use that one. Also loved the line about brewing the kool-aid.
The biggest irony in Will’s post, however, given that Will is an S&C alum, is his penultimate paragraph about the creep inevitably becoming a firm legend. The legend at S&C is of course Rodge Cohen, who despite being the most prominent banking M&A lawyer in New York is an absolute gentleman and great role model for “nice” lawyers everywhere.
Yet again we have another huge generalization
At my big lawfirm, I work for a 6th year who’s one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met. A joy to work for. I also work for two fourth years on another matter who are just fun good people. There’s an 8th year who I haven’t worked for, but who I know from others is great to work for. A guy just made partner last month who’s a real pleasant fella, etc, etc, etc.
The two associates in your client’s story were SENIOR associates, so clearly they’d been there awhile.
Yes, people at lawfirms leave. There isn’t enough room for everyone to stay the course and make partner, but it’s simply not true that the ones who remain are generally bad people.
At both firms I’ve worked for, one huge, one small, the older people have generally been really NICE good people, pleasant to work for/with.
Yes, there are terrible people at lawfirms, but there are terrible people everywhere, in every profession. This isn’t news. What’s fact is that while a lot of nice people leave, a lot of terrible people leave too. And a lot of the nice ones do indeed stay while terrible ones stay too. There we go.
Zad,
I’m happy that your experience has been positive so far. I don’t doubt that there are exceptions out there, where the environment is more positive than at most Biglaw shops. I spent plenty of time in 2 big firms and have had many friends work in Biglaw. I have heard their stories, and while I believe there are variations, what this post says really is generally true. I have seen many people come and go from Biglaw….very few have actually been forced out (except in the last year due to economic layoffs, which is a different situation). For the most part, people leave because they are fed up with the work environment. You should consider youself lucky!! I eventually went in-house and can finally enjoy my job. I really like the people I work with and it is a stark contrast with firm life. You say that there are terrible people everywhere – that is probably true, but I can attest to the fact that the concentration of terrible people is not constant across all professions.
Yeah Zad, you are one lucky associate. This article describes my firm to a T. It really is always the nice ones who leave (or are told to leave) at my firm, with a handful of exceptions. It is scary how, week after week, I read these posts and feel like someone from my firm is a patient of Will’s and is decribing my firm and my practice group to him so he can write these posts. The only reason I know it is just as likely that these are stories about other firms is because my friends at other biglaw firms tell me the same stories. No, Zad, sadly, I don’t think Will is generalizing too much.
I’m fading as we speak and it feels good! It feels good because a bit of fade helps me conserve energy for 1) sanity and 2) making other plans. You can’t play 100% for the team and not drink some Kool Aid.
Another great post. I was definitely one of the nice ones. Always courteous and friendly, careful never to let others’ meanness rub off on me, happy to carry on a conversation that involved real things other than the law. But nice people don’t belong in law firms. I didn’t have what it takes to get ahead – the shrewdness, the aggression, the stamina. When it came down to it, I wanted to be a real person and go home at night to have a normal dinner with my husband and my priorities were never aligned with the mean, “successful” people, especially the women partners I worked for.
Sometimes the nice ones don’t leave but you don’t notice because they’re no longer the nice ones they were when they were first years. I left because I didn’t like the person I was becoming — entitled, impatient, unforgiving, full of self doubt. I was talking recently with a good friend who’s still at the firm, a lovely, sunny, sweet-to-a-fault southern girl, who said she needs to get out soon because “I don’t like the person I’m becoming.” I was already an overly serious, brusque Yankee when I started at the firm, but if that place can make even my sweet southern friend a b–ch, well, that’s a feat.
Erin –
I absolutely agree. I just got out of law to go into a sales and marketing job for a social media company focused on health and wellness (www.cafewell.com), and I couldn’t be happier. The four characteristics you used to describe the person you were becoming gave me goosebumps. Simply saying “ME TOO!!!” doesn’t even begin to cover it. Thanks for your words!
Cheers,
the recovering lawyer.
I love this column because I think Will 100% nails so many feelings I had while I was at the firm, feelings made so much worse because I thought I was the only one who had them (see, e.g., “You’re in Trouble” — nail. on. the. head.)
Great post. I’m also a “fader”. I had to attend a “senior associate” workshop a while back to help me “transition” to being one. I looked around the room at the 80 6th and 7th years and thought “most won’t be here”. Of course there is no acknowledgement of that fact by the powers that be – they just assume all want the brass ring.
One risk to fading is that you don’t do the 100%/KoolAid route so you push work down, say no, see more of your family and then start to think “hey, maybe I can stay”. But you can’t. Either you are “in it to win it” or you’re done and once you make the decision to to fade away there is no turning back.
Mommy,
You said it exactly. I’m a senior associate working in Big Law, in an area that has slowed down considerably. On slow days, this career seems sustainable. But of course, it’s not. If you’re not billing to cover your salary and more, and building a book of business, then you’re on your way out. One way or another. Better to leave on your own terms.
The problem is, with law firm pyramids, that even if you are “in it to win it” there aren’t enough spaces for all of us to stay, even if the complete law-haters drop off first.
So you can be in it to win it and still moving on later. Better to sever the emotional tie to the firm and see yourself as a free agent – working at this firm at this time, but ultimately “for” yourself for the rest of your life.
MS says:
“So you can be in it to win it and still moving on later. Better to sever the emotional tie to the firm and see yourself as a free agent – working at this firm at this time, but ultimately “for” yourself for the rest of your life.”
The problem with this approach seems to be the professional/moral issue involved.
As a firm employee, my professional interests and moral obliations are to my clients and to the firm to which I am employed. That is to say that my actions must be in the best interests of the *owners* of the firm and not in my *own* interests.
If you see yourself as a free agent and look out *for* yourself while employed by someone else, that would seem to be the wrong approach. Best to sever quickly if you are no longer interested in working on behalf of the firm owners rather than fading slowly.
This is terrible advice, JP. Maintaining a sense of intellectual and moral freedom is critical, especially in a large law firm. And this is not necessarily an ‘all or nothing’ endeavor; you can perform/be competent during your time there without putting every ounce of your life energy into whatever tasks are given to you. That way, when you’re ready to transition — because you’ve saved enough money or have aptly directed your extra time and energies into something other than the large firm rat race that has come into fruition — you still know who you are and haven’t turned into a complete functionary. It’s called being subversive, JP. I know that one way of reconciling the large firm cognitive dissonance (feeling put upon, stressed and disrespected while appreciating the reflected glory of ‘status’ and ‘prestige’) is to martyrize yourself as the zealous representative . . . but, if you’re really honest with yourself, you’ll see that you’re just totally punking yourself out. Even our very own language betrays the truth — to be “employed” is to be “used”.
Agree with the other response to this comment. If you think your first duty is to your employer and your second duty is to yourself, they’ve won and you’re the sucker. Employment is at will. You do your thing. If the employer accepts what you can do, great, you’ll continue to be employed; if not, they can fire you.
There’s no duty (legal, moral or otherwise) to sacrifice yourself for the firm. If you think there is, I suggest that you re-evaluate.
Nah, I’m working for myself – I have the client’s interests at heart, but the career, and skill sets, and future direction and survival are all on me. No firm can give me any of that (that they cannot take away).
KM says:
“And this is not necessarily an ‘all or nothing’ endeavor; you can perform/be competent during your time there without putting every ounce of your life energy into whatever tasks are given to you. That way, when you’re ready to transition — because you’ve saved enough money or have aptly directed your extra time and energies into something other than the large firm rat race that has come into fruition — you still know who you are and haven’t turned into a complete functionary. It’s called being subversive, JP.”
I’m not saying that you shouldn’t save money or direct your personal time to personal endeavors, as long as those endeavors are not adverse to your employer-master.
Of course employment is servant position. You had a duty to serve the interests of the employer-master to the extent that those duties do not violate the underlying moral order.
My point is that it’s best to remain fully functional in your current employment, as you are morally obligated to do.
I’m not saying not to have a plan to leave the BigLaw system.
I though one of the points in life was to not be sneaky and subersive.
This discussion is hitting on a key issue for me. I have no problem with working or even working hard for a law firm. But I refuse to pour my entire being into that endeavor, and have seen that you are marginalized/stigmatized for not doing so at these places. They want you to live and breathe transactions and litigation, not just facilitate them. Anything else that you do when you’re ‘not working’ is eyed with suspicion, so that’s where being “sneaky and subversive” comes in. I see your point — that being subversive can present a moral quandary in and of itself. But I think that depends on the intent of the subversion. If you’re being sneaky because you’re trying to hide your insider trading activities, that, of course, is one thing. If you’re being sneaky so as to pursue other interests without being seen as a slacker and, thus, putting your job in jeopardy, that is another thing altogether.
“employer-master”? WTF? It’s just “employer”. Get a grip.
Mommy, Esq. says:
“I looked around the room at the 80 6th and 7th years and thought “most won’t be here”. Of course there is no acknowledgement of that fact by the powers that be – they just assume all want the brass ring.”
Isn’t part of the issue that part of the job description is “partnership track”? That is to say, you were hired as a potential partner and when you are no longer interested in partnership, you are no longer performing your job?
So, part of the problem is that by not seeking partnership, you are essentially lying to the firm. They assume that everyone “wants the brass ring” because that’s part of the job description. Up or out.
Not that this matters, but just working for a firm as a parternship-track associate knowing that you will be trying to leave after you “get experience” seems to be some sort of species of fraud.
You’re getting it backwards. “partnership track” is the employer’s carrot to the employee, not a “prerequisite” to continued employment.
And as to fraud, how about firms that keep you on the “partnership track” knowing full well that they will never make you partner? Is that “some sort of species of fraud” by the firm?
KM says:
“I have no problem with working or even working hard for a law firm. But I refuse to pour my entire being into that endeavor, and have seen that you are marginalized/stigmatized for not doing so at these places. They want you to live and breathe transactions and litigation, not just facilitate them.”
That’s because they are either delusional, anit-human, or both. Probably both.
I doubt that anyone’s “entire being” is supposed to go into a corporate mega-merger transaction or corporate litigation. Unless it’s directed at dealing with a clear moral evil or supporting a clear moral good.
Countercultural says:
“You’re getting it backwards. “partnership track” is the employer’s carrot to the employee, not a “prerequisite” to continued employment.”
Tell the partnership in no uncertain terms that you have no interest in ever being partner. See what happens.
Countercultural also says:
“And as to fraud, how about firms that keep you on the “partnership track” knowing full well that they will never make you partner? Is that “some sort of species of fraud” by the firm?”
It looks like a species of fraud to me.
When the firm tells me in no uncertain terms that it has no interest in ever making me partner. See what happens.
Associates are cogs in a machine. Cogs are replaceable. We all know that. So are machines.
Countercultural says:
““employer-master”? WTF? It’s just “employer”. Get a grip.”
Try not doing what you are told to do and see what happens.
Employees are servants to the firm. They serve the firm’s interests.
Isn’t life fun?
You seem to be confusing “keeping a job” with “getting promoted.”
Also, although I am an employee, I do not see myself as a “servant.” I provide a service (billable hours) to the firm in exchange for the firm providing me a service (a steady stream of cash). Just see what happens when the firm stops sending cash my way.
JP, it looks like you’re gunning for partner. Good luck to you. I hope that when the time comes that you will “make it” and, if you don’t, that you will have learned more than how to do legal work in the precise ‘style’ that is mandated by your particular firm and the names of all the partners’ spouses and children.
KM says:
“JP, it looks like you’re gunning for partner. Good luck to you. I hope that when the time comes that you will “make it” and, if you don’t, that you will have learned more than how to do legal work in the precise ‘style’ that is mandated by your particular firm and the names of all the partners’ spouses and children.”
Me? I left the world of billing hours a few years ago. I get all of my work from televion ads these days. And it’s not me on the ad.
I was never quite sure how you were supposed to bring in business. It’s hard to do that when you don’t actually care about the work you do. Plus, I’m not exaclty a sales type of person.
About the only think I’ve learned in life so far is how to continuously underachive. Which was how I ended up in law in the first place – severe adacemic underachivement. I’ve also learned that I have no interest in practiing law.
Considering that I have no interest in doing anything else, either, I continue to practice law.
My career goals are the same as many other people:
1) Don’t commit malpractice.
2) Don’t get fired.
MS says:
“Nah, I’m working for myself – I have the client’s interests at heart, but the career, and skill sets, and future direction and survival are all on me. No firm can give me any of that (that they cannot take away).”
I think that’s part of how we got this insane anti-human system set up in the first place.
Everyone working for their own personal career interests to the exclusion of their fellow firm attorneys, that is.
JP, you can look after your own interests and be collegial at the same time. I don’t understand why you’re putting so much energy into defending a system that you yourself have fled.
KM says:
“JP, you can look after your own interests and be collegial at the same time. I don’t understand why you’re putting so much energy into defending a system that you yourself have fled.”
I think the system is completely insane and anti-human. BigLaw isn’t going to reform and become a useful institution (generally speaking) anytime soon.
It might be a good idea to put others’ interests ahead of your own, beyond collegiality, fnancially and career-wise periodically, leaning more toward cooperation and (preferably) shared sacrifice.
Maybe I’m a terrible person (I am, after all, a law firm lawyer) but when I look at 10+ years of senior equity partners 150% looking out for themselves – hoarding work and contacts, demanding payment into PAC funds to pay for their activities but never supporting any other attorney’s goals, overbilling clients to get the right number on the time sheet (forget about ethics etc.), sabotaging each other – in once case calling a deceased partner’s clients within 24 hours of his sudden death to claim the new client/billing relationship, it is made 150% clear to me that I have to look out for myself too and consider this career “mine” or I will end up ground into the dirt with the other nice suckers.
Who wants to draw the straw to start “shared sacrifice” and get shanked for his or her troubles? I’m not going to go first.
I am a finance associate at a big firm at Boston and want to transition to an in-house position. I consider myself one of the “nice” ones, never had the ambition to make partner at a law firm, and just wanted some law firm experience before going in-house. I am finding finding an in-house position it is more difficult than I thought though. Could people here provide some advice, especially those who already made the transition? Did you use recruiters? Did you find your jobs by applying online (most of my online applications seem to have gone into a black hole). Thanks very much.
You have described my firm and my experience EXACTLY. Wow.
Comment re: the “Will’s a broken record”-type comments– Biglaw has a culture, and like any culture, it typically exists to protect itself and to pressure its denizens to conform. Or, at the very least, a culture acts as a very large river. Changing a culture is akin to trying to reverse the course of a river. It can be done, but it takes concerted effort from the top over a very long period of time (just ask any CEO seeking to change a large corporation’s culture).
Biglaw pounds us with its incessant message that money matters, that “sophistication” matters, that “prestige” matters. This notwithstanding the fact that much of what Biglaw lawyers do, a monkey could do. On any given litigation matter or transactional matter, a very small portion of the bill can truly be ascribed to “expertise”. The vast majority of the bill is for simple analyses, diligence, doc review, proofreading, legal research, etc that has to get done (and can be done by just about anyone– even first year associates). But that is an aside.
I found myself sometimes agreeing with the “broken record”-type comments, particularly when Will was so negative about it all the time…until I started seeing Will as a guy who is just as persistent and unforgiving in his counter-cultural message as Biglaw is in its cultural message.
Keep up the good work, Will. Keep pushing against the river and helping us see that Biglaw’s view of its own culture is not the only view of that culture. Regardless of what they say, Biglaw is not the only “right way to be.”