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Balance of power

“A” wrote in with the following question:

I wanted to know your thoughts on the imbalance in power relationships at law firms.

My boyfriend, J,works for a partner in a firm. They’ve worked together on and off for 5 years. The partner was an associate when J joined as a trainee. They’ve been ‘friends’ but the friendship is not balanced. There’s an increasing tendency for the personal and professional relationship to blend, and not in a good way.
The partner will abuse his ability to prevent certain social situations from happening by increasing J’s work load. If we don’t agree to socialize on the weekend with him and his wife then the partner can make life difficult as well. He has a very controlling and dominating nature, and will often send emails which are childish and aggressive to J if he doesn’t get his way.

My question is … Is it ever appropriate to have a personal relationship with anyone who is in a position of power over you?

I find that it is not, and as a by stander in this merry-go round of their relationship with one another find that I am a helpless player who gets dragged in from time to time, but is unable to stand up and defend herself because, according to J, ‘he’s a partner and it’ll make work more complicated for me if we upset him.’

Also how to extract ourselves from this? J is in the process of applying for a new position elsewhere, but he still intimates that in the future he’ll want to continue being friends with this partner. Is this some kind of negative symbiotic relationship, whose negative side he cannot recognize because he’s been in it for so long?

And here’s my answer:

To submit a question to Ask The People’s Therapist, please email it as text or a video to: wmeyerhofer@aquietroom.com

If I answer your question on the site, you’ll win a free session of psychotherapy with The People’s Therapist!

Magical thinking

So many cases like this appear at my office that I’ll construct him/her as a composite. That way perhaps I can spare myself the chore of receiving those “how dare you write about one of your clients” comments that I receive every week when I get specific in detailing my fictions and some of you decide I simply must be writing about your roommate.

So here goes.

He/she is very young – 22 or 23 or 24 or 25.

He/she moved across the country to go to a law school that I’ve heard of vaguely. It turns out to be number 79 or 83 or 66 out of the top 100, according to some hack newspaper that profits from disseminating this sort of nonsense.

He/she is the son/daughter of immigrants from Bangladesh, Peru, Kenya, Romania or Ireland.

His/her immigrant parents operate a doughnut bakery, dry cleaner, small hobbyist shop, motel or air-conditioner repair service.

His/her parents are adamant that he/she marry someone from Bangladesh, Peru, Kenya, Romania or Ireland in a traditional ceremony – soon – and produce male children.

Before then – quickly – he/she has to become a doctor.

He/she is no good at math or science or dating, so that’s not going to happen to him/her any time soon. Being a lawyer is the official second choice – not as good as a doctor, but acceptable.

He/she has just started law school at number 79 or 83 or 66 out of 100 and is presenting with anxiety around test-taking and deep feelings of insecurity about his/her abilities compared to those of his/her classmates.

We talk about CBT – cognitive behavioral therapy – to identify the thoughts that are triggering the anxiety – fears of being unable to live up to dad/mom’s demanding agenda, especially when, despite getting accepted into number 79 or 83 or 66 out of 100, he/she suspects he/she has never been all that great at school. College was a struggle, too. It is possible that he/she is simply doing his/her best, but isn’t cut out for academics and would be happier doing something else, such as operating a doughnut bakery, dry cleaner, small hobbyist shop, motel or air-conditioner repair service. But he/she runs from that idea – it doesn’t compute with the dreams and expectations of his/her immigrant parents from Bangladesh, Peru, Kenya, Romania or Ireland.

We learn his/her parents remind him/her that they sacrificed everything for their son/daughter, so he/she could have a future. His/her parents gave up their own happiness so he/she could succeed. This notion is recited to him/her in some form or other about five times each week, most recently in the form of phone calls from home.

We learn he/she has an older brother/sister, who is a doctor, is married to someone from Bangladesh, Peru, Kenya, Romania or Ireland, and has two male children.

We also talk about the ever-widening pharmacopeia available to him/her, should he/she decide to go that route. There are the anti-depressants, which take two weeks or so to work, and have side-effects he/she might not like. There are the anti-anxietals, the benzos, like Xanax and Klonopin, which might be habit-forming. There are the stimulants, like Adderall or Concerta or Ritalin, which will help you focus on studying, at least unless you abuse them, like many law students, and stay up night after night without sleep and start hearing voices – which happened to a client of mine (no – for you helpful comment-writers out there – not while under my care, and no, I’m not a medical doctor, so I didn’t prescribe the stuff.)

But there is another issue that I can’t help discussing with him/her: magical thinking.

Because even as he/she talks to me about his/her anxiety around being back in school, a few more facts are glossed over.

First, he/she is in the process of borrowing $170,000 which he/she cannot discharge through bankruptcy.

He/she has never seen that much money in his/her life and has no concept of how much money it is. Remember, he/she is only 22 or 23 or 24 or 25.

He/she has never worked in law. He/she only graduated from college 1 or 2 or 3 or 4 years ago, and spent most of that time working in his/her parents’ doughnut bakery, dry cleaner, small hobbyist shop, motel or air-conditioner repair service.

When I ask him/her why he/she is pursuing law, I get a canned speech of the law school essay variety.

He/she wants to become an environmental lawyer/ international human rights attorney/ entertainment lawyer/ executive director of a group to help the oppressed/ federal judge.

Pressed on the details, he/she admits that he/she might have to spend a few years at a top law firm first, earning $160,000 per year, minimum. But he/she isn’t doing this for the money.

Pressed to describe what precisely an environmental lawyer/ international human rights attorney/ entertainment lawyer/ executive director of a group to help the oppressed/ federal judge actually does, or how one attains these titles, things grow vague.

Pressed as to how he/she will pay back the $170,000 in loans that he/she will have accumulated at graduation, he/she looks at me like it’s obvious. If you make $160,000 per year, then you need one year to pay off $160,000 and maybe another month or two for another $10,000 and it’s paid off. Duh.

Oh yeah, and maybe taxes or interest or whatever – say a year and a half.

I stare at him/her. He/she stares back at me. There is a steely determination in his/her eyes. He/she isn’t going to back down. This has all been arranged. It is decided.

We are at a stand-off.

Continue Reading »

There are foods no rational human would knowingly ingest:  the stuff listed on this website.

Why would you eat a double bacon peanut butter egg and cheese burger with chipotle mayo?

Because you think it will taste good.

To be precise, a little child inside you thinks it will taste good.  That little child is unconscious, and he seeks pleasure.  Freud called him the “Id.”  He doesn’t think.  He reaches for something shiny because it’s shiny.

Welcome to the appeal of Sarah Palin.

Sarah is the political equivalent of marshmallow fluff, chocolate fudge, mac & cheese and cookie dough in a deep fryer.

Why does she look like she’ll taste good – and why is she so bad for you?:

FIRST REASON:  Sarah has an easy answer for EVERYTHING.

Millions of Americans without healthcare?  Sarah would shrink government while lowering costs, cutting taxes and creating jobs.  It’s THAT SIMPLE!!

Foreign Affairs?  Sarah would stand tall against our enemies and stop terrorism in its tracks while keeping us the strongest nation in the world.

Immigration? Sarah would stand up for real Americans and protect our jobs.

The environment?  There’s plenty of oil – we just have to drill for it!  Sarah doesn’t believe in global warming.  We can do whatever we want.  That’s what the planet’s there for – having fun!

What else is there?

Who cares!

Sarah would cut taxes, build the economy, create jobs, shrink government, make America strong and bring the family back – like things used to be in the olden days!  Everything would be super!!

You betcha.

Does any of this make sense?

Does washing down a bag of Doritos with a two liter bottle of Mountain Dew and a super-size bag of peanut butter M&M’s make sense?  Does it have to make sense?

It feels good.  Until a few hours later.  When you throw up.

SECOND REASON:  Sarah’s just like you!

Palin’s Tea Party supporters are always stressing how “real” Sarah is.  That word – “real” – is code for “just like me!”  Your Id, like a small child, is by definition a narcissist – he cannot see where he stops and another person begins, so doesn’t see anyone or anything beyond his own reflection.

Neither does Sarah!

She brings you…you.  Not like that weirdo Obama, who’s…well…umm…he looks “different” –  you know what I mean?

Your Id wants to have fun.  He seeks pleasure.  That’s the “Pleasure Principle.”   Your unconscious – this child – is utterly regressed.  He likes sugar, and shiny things.  He likes Sarah.

In case you need a male Sarah Palin?  Don’t worry, we’ve got you covered.

That would be Scott Brown.

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One of my clients told me last week he went to law school because he “didn’t want to do an MBA.” Apparently he’d only considered those two options.

Another client told me he’d decided between a PhD in History and a JD, and went with the JD because he “didn’t think there would be jobs for academics.” Fair enough. Unfortunately, there weren’t many jobs for lawyers, either, and at least with a PhD, as opposed to law school, he might have received some sort of “stipend” ( i.e., a meagre handout), or adjunct faculty position (i.e. cafeteria work.) That way, he might not have ended up both unemployed and in hock up to his eyebrows.

Going to graduate school has become a popular substitute for finding a job, especially in this recession. Grad school sounds easy – basically a few extra years of college – but it only puts off a lot of tough decisions that have to be made sooner or later.

The problem here is proverbial and involves carts and horses. In a perfect world, you would explore a career and make sure it is right for you first, then head off to get a degree.

Instead, we have the situation I see every day in my office: young people in their mid-twenties, who grind through law school, then face not only a moribund job market, but the deeper horror of realizing they don’t enjoy the work. They end up fighting to find a job in a profession they don’t like simply because they have to pay off debts.

It would be great if the law schools seemed to care – if they insisted that prospective students work as paralegals for a while and make sure they know what they’re getting into. But law schools are money-making concerns and they’re raking in cash the way things are. They’re not about to start telling the truth about their massive profits on law student tuition or the feeble job market. As they see it, that’s not their problem.

What sent you off to law school, more than any other factor? Probably fear – specifically fear of being a disappointment to mom and dad. When you decided to go to law school, you saw only two options – graduate school or loser-dom. In law school, you would be doing what you’d done your entire life – going to school, which always kept your parents happy in the past. It seemed like a no-brainer. And in your early 20’s, things that happen a few years from now (like paying off student loans) seem far away – they take place in another universe with another person cleaning up. Hey, plenty of people go to law school and they do whatever, and it works out, right?

Now, in many senses of the word, your loans are being called in.

One of my patients says he wishes he’d gone the burn-out route, stayed home and smoked weed. He has buddies from college who drifted after graduation. Some are working retail jobs, or in restaurants. Some have office or sales jobs. Mostly, they’re blowing off work and playing in bands and part-timing as ski instructors during the winter or hanging out and talking about that back-packing trip to Bhutan they really want to do some day.

From where he’s at – an unemployed quasi-lawyer waiting to hear whether he passed the bar exam while he processes the reality that he doesn’t like law – being a burn-out sounds pretty good. As a burn-out, he wouldn’t have loans, so he could afford to spend the whole day studying the lyrics to “Paranoid Android.”

I’d like to suggest a “third path” – an alternative both to the mindless lemming-march towards graduate school and complete burn-out. Continue Reading »

I was back on “The Alternative” with Terry LeGrand this week, after a short summer break.  This time we talked about the unique – and not so unique – challenges facing mixed HIV-status couples.  Here’s a link to hear the show.  I come on about 7 minutes in – check out the new taped intro Terry and his engineers put together for The People’s Therapist!

To find out more about Terry and “The Alternative” on LA Talk Radio, check out Terry’s website and the show’s website.

If you love his show, you can become a Terry LeGrand “fan” on Facebook here.

Thanks, Terry!  See you next month.

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At the end of Beyond the Pleasure Principle, there’s a moment where Sigmund Freud pauses to admit he’s gone out on a limb exploring his own ideas:

I do not know how far I believe in them…One may surely give oneself up to a line of thought, and follow it up as far as it leads…without, however, making a pact with the devil about it.

Hallelujah.  Not even Freud was a “strict Freudian.”

A new client showed up at my office a few weeks ago.  He said he was interviewing therapists.  His current therapist wasn’t working out, and he was going to several others to see if they were more what he needed.

I said sure.  And I sat Simon, my miniature wire-haired dachshund, in my lap and scratched his ears.

The patient stared at me.  I stared back.

“Would you like to hold Simon?”

It turned out this patient’s old therapist was very formal.  In fact, he wore a suit and tie and enforced strict rules.  Every session began the same way, with the therapist observing the patient in complete silence, waiting for him to begin.  This therapist would sooner wear a polka dot dress than have a fuzzy dog in his lap.  My patient admitted he found the whole set-up intimidating, like he’d been sent to the principal’s office.

I suppose there’s nothing wrong with doing things with a touch of formality – we all have our personal style.  The mistake is when you start to think your way of doing things is the only way.  That’s when you start making a pact with the devil.

Every patient needs a slightly different therapist.  That’s because every patient is a slightly different person.

I started out as a therapist using the couch.  My patients took off their shoes, lay down, and I sat on a chair behind their heads.  The idea was that they couldn’t see me, so they could free-associate without distraction.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a proper psychotherapy couch – I had a sofa, with arms.

One patient was too tall.  His feet had to be propped up on the arm of the sofa.  It was an awkward arrangement.

At some point he looked up at me and said, “would it be okay if we just sat up and faced each other?”

I was going to start on a speech about how important the couch was to free association, but I didn’t have the heart for it. Maybe the couch wasn’t all that important.  One of the reasons Freud used the couch, or so it’s been said, is that he hated having his patients stare at him for hours.  Maybe it made him nervous.

We ended up sitting cross-legged on the floor for the final year we worked together – and we did just fine.

My point is that a lot of the details don’t matter that much in psychotherapy.

I know a therapist colleague who began wearing a formal suit and tie to sessions – until his patients told him to knock it off.

I used to wear khakis and button-down shirts during therapy.  It seemed formal enough, but not too formal.  At this point I’m typically in jeans and a polo shirt.  Last year I took a leap into the unknown and started wearing shorts.  It was summer, and hot, and my patients were all showing up in cut-offs and flip-flops.  Fair’s fair.

The art in your therapist’s office doesn’t matter much either.  I’ve moved paintings around and fiddled with the decor only to realize my patients never noticed or cared.

If there’s anything that does matter, above all else – it is that you loosen up with a therapist, and he loosen up with you, so you can both be yourselves and explore someplace new.

I’m a relaxed guy who likes to have my dog in my lap.

At this point, my patients usually sit in a chair, or flop down on the couch, or occasionally sit on the floor.  Whatever feels comfortable is okay with me.

The greatest danger in psychotherapy is when you stop realizing that it is an on-going experiment – an improvisation – and begin believing your own dogma.  That’s when you risk driving right off the rails into who knows where.

There was a time during the last century when reputable therapists actually used psychotherapy to try to “cure” homosexuals.  It is hard to fathom how a therapy that is all about awareness and acceptance of the authentic self could be misused in a more malicious and stupid way.  But they thought they knew what they were doing and they had a lot of fancy-sounding theoretical mumbo-jumbo and books by psychoanalysts with impressive-sounding names.  They had impressive degrees hanging on their walls, too.  I’m sure they were very formal and “strictly Freudian” about it – although every single aspect of their work violated the essence of Freud’s thinking.

A pact with the devil.

Freud was an explorer.  He accomplished breakthroughs in how we understand the human mind.  That’s because he took risks, and was ready to admit when he’d driven up a blind alley.  One of the interesting and for some, frustrating aspects of Freud is that there is no one book of his that contains all his ideas.  In fact, some of the ideas in later books contradict things he says in earlier books.  That’s because Freud made mistakes, and changed his mind, and never stopped exploring.

For a while, he thought cocaine was a wonder drug.  That didn’t last long.

Many of his theories came from explorations of his own psyche – “self-analysis.”  When that process worked, it was brilliant.  Freud was capable of feats of honesty about himself, honesty that brought shattering insights.  On the other hand, some of his ideas, like the “Oedipus Complex” probably tell us more about Freud’s family history than any generalizable theory of human nature.

Sometimes you have to lose your way to find yourself someplace new.  Never assume where you happen to end up is the only possible destination.

And don’t make a pact with the devil.  Reserve the right to change your mind.

For the record, Simon and I are strict Freudians.  Freud kept a dog in his office during sessions, too.  According to Peter Gay:

…Freud and a succession of chows, especially his Jo-Fi, were inseparable.  The dog would sit quietly at the foot of the couch during the analytic hour.

Far be it from me to betray strict Freudian doctrine by performing dog-less psychotherapy!

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It turns out that A.M.’s question was a two-parter. Here’s part two:

What strategies can you suggest for dealing with passive-aggression, in both the workplace and in intimate relationships? Is there an effective way to set boundaries with a person who is setting out to undermine them? How can you best maintain your integrity and self-esteem when subjected to it, and avoid being a target in the future?

And here’s my answer:

To submit a question to Ask The People’s Therapist, please email it as text or a video to: wmeyerhofer@aquietroom.com

If I answer your question on the site, you’ll win a free session of psychotherapy with The People’s Therapist!

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Albert Einstein was puzzled by the mystery of his own fame.  He was forever pondering with friends and associates why he – a physicist whose work was a mystery to most non-scientists – should have become the recipient of full-blown Hollywood-style celebrity.  For whatever reason, Einstein chose not to discuss this issue with the father of psychoanalysis, Sigmund Freud, either when they met in person in 1927, or in their later correspondence.  As one of Einstein’s biographers, Denis Brian, put it:

Einstein…missed the chance for a Freudian explanation of why hordes of people incapable of understanding his ideas threated the quiet contemplation he craved to pursue his work by chasing after him.  Are they crazy or am I?  he wondered.

I suspect Einstein never asked Freud why people hounded him as a celebrity because it seemed a silly and self-indulgent question.  Most of Freud and Einstein’s correspondence concerned serious politics – the Nazi threat, Zionism and the like.  It was also a pretty obvious question.  People flocked to Einstein for the same reason they flock to any celebrity – because they want to be that celebrity. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be Einstein – by popular acclaim, the smartest person in the world – and have everyone associate your name with the very definition of genius?

Einstein might have been loathe to admit it, but he was rich and famous – and we all want to be rich and famous.  In fact, if you were asked what you wanted to be right now, more than anything else – and you didn’t stop to reflect – you might just answer “rich and famous.”

Why?  Because that’s what most people assume they want, until they stop and think, and maybe come up with an answer that’s a little more meaningful.

Even if they do stop and think about it, they still might want wealth and fame, without realizing it – like Einstein.

No one was more consciously self-effacing or less interested in money than Albert Einstein.  He was constantly reminding people that he was only one of many talented physicists, including many great predecessors who laid the groundwork for his theories.  He was also fiercely determined to live unostentatiously – giving much of his money away and using a good deal of it to help others, including fellow Jews who needed to be sponsored financially in order to escape Nazi persecution.

Deep down, though, Einstein sensed something was going on with his relationship to fame and fortune.  As Brian puts it:

Einstein half-seriously speculated that he himself was to blame;  that elements in his makeup of the charlatan, the hypnotist, or even the clown inadvertently attracted attention….He suspected that he might unconsciously be inviting the hunt…

Well, of course he was inviting the hunt.  That’s because, while Einstein’s adult self disdained wealth and fame, his child, given the chance, drank it up.

Your child craves it, too.

To understand why, let’s take a look at what “rich and famous” really means.

Rich means loved.  Famous means paid attention to.  The same things you have craved since the day you were born.

Money, in psychotherapy terms, is a surrogate for security in love.  A patient once told me if he won the lottery he would build a brick house that needed no maintenance and would stand for five hundred years, then he’d create a fund to guarantee that the taxes and every other possible expense would be paid for in perpetuity.  He’d have a place, a safe place, forever, that no one could ever take away.  He could finally feel safe and breathe free.

Of course, that’s a dream.  First, because you’re going to die, eventually, even if you’re hiding inside a brick house.  And second, because sitting alone in a house isn’t a satisfying way to spend your life.  Feeling secure boils down to more than money or a big house – it’s about feeling safe in someone’s affection, and it starts with learning to love yourself.

As a child, you can gauge your parents’ investment in you – their love – by whether they are paying attention.  You learn to do everything you can to keep their eyes on you as much as possible – like a kid at the playground, calling to his mother, making sure she watches each and every trick he performs on the jungle gym.  Attention is like food for a young child.

There’s evolutionary history behind our desire to be rich and famous.  It traces back to the fact that humans, with their gigantic brains, take a long time to reach maturity. An orangutan reaches adolescence at about age four.  He’s in contact with his mother’s skin almost without break for much of that time, then soon becomes independent.  A human doesn’t reach adolescence until thirteen.  He requires more than a decade of childcare – too many years to rely solely on the care of parents.  The human child senses instinctively that his life might depend upon summoning care and attention from others.

No wonder you work hard to become rich and famous.

The problem with chasing wealth and fame is that it’s a child’s mission, not an adult’s.  At some point you must step out of childhood – that long, helpless period of your life – and move onto the independence of maturity.  Instead of needing reassurance that you are loved, you can achieve independence by learning to love yourself.  That big step into adulthood is an affirmation that you deserve love, and deserve to receive it from those you call friends or partners.

You needn’t crave attention as an adult, either.  It feels nice, now and then, to receive praise for your work.  But if you have your own attention – you’ve done the job of living consciously as your best self and winning your own respect – you no longer have to cry for mommy to watch you perform on the jungle gym.  You can learn to feel safe and secure in your own abilities and achievements.

Security within yourself is worth more than being rich and famous.  The ultimate goal is security in the knowledge that you have friends who deserve you and care about you, meaningful work that you enjoy and a partner who is a true friend and ally.

That beats wealth and fame any day.

It’s interesting that one of the most famous photos of Albert Einstein features him sticking his tongue out.  You’ve probably seen it a million times on postcards or posters on dorm room walls.  It seems to speak volumes about Einstein’s naturalness and lack of pretension – his being in touch with his child. Perhaps that’s true.  It was photos like that – and his crazy hairdo – that helped make Einstein an icon of approachable, lovable brilliance.

On the other hand, that photo, which was taken in December 1948, captures Einstein shortly after he was operated on at Brooklyn Jewish Hospital for a large and potentially life-threatening aneurysm of the abdominal aorta.  Brian describes the circumstances of the photo:

After overhearing a doctor say that the hospital was short of private rooms, Einstein insisted he was “getting much better” and asked to be moved to the ward.  That way, his room could go to someone who needed it more.  He was talked out of it when told he would be more trouble in the ward.  Helen Dukas [his private secretary] came to collect him a few days later, and they left by the back entrance through a gauntlet of reporters, newsreel cameramen, and almost the entire hospital staff, who were there to wish him well.  On the way home, pestered by photographers, he was snapped by one of them, sticking his tongue out at him.

The original, un-cropped version of the photo gives a slightly different impression from the familiar cropped version.  The original includes the people around Einstein, who are trying to hurry a sick man home through a crowd of reporters.  Perhaps, when he stuck out his tongue, Einstein the adult was simply annoyed and exasperated at a mob harassing an aging, unwell physicist whose work none of them could even understand.

On the other hand, maybe Einstein’s child was having a bit of fun and enjoying the attention.

Probably both were true.  Einstein might not have been certain himself of exactly how he was feeling at that moment, or why. But however much he unconsciously basked in the glow of wealth and fame – or fled from it – the father of relativity devoted the majority of his later life to ignoring his wealth and avoiding attention while working hard to achieve nuclear disarmament and world peace.  Being rich and famous wasn’t enough.  Einstein the adult needed a more meaningful dream.

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A therapist colleague recently agreed with me that the funniest things we’d ever heard were told to us by our clients.  Summer break (and the week of the bar exam) seems like an appropriate time for a laugh.  So…without further ado…here are some of my clients’ funniest utterances from the past few years:

  • (An Arab client) “Don’t worry, Will – my name is Saif (pronounced “safe”), so all the sex I have is ‘Saif sex!'”
  • “My mother did everything around the house.  If my father asked her to do an extra chore she’d say ‘fine, and I’ll stick a broom up my ass so I can sweep the kitchen floor at the same time!'”
  • “I prefer the term ‘MoHo’ – Fag Hag is so last year.”
  • Diet coke and vodka.  It’s a dieter’s drink.  Just order a “skinny black bitch.”
  • “My best friend and I played a game called “MFK” – Marry, Fuck or Kill.  You pick three random people and decide which you’d marry, fuck and kill.  But that got boring.  The new variation is ‘Oral, Vaginal or Anal.'”

  • “My husband’s an investment banker and works in Abu Dhabi half the year.  I’m a ‘gulf widow’.”
  • (A gay man, about his ex) “I tried to detard him.  That’s when you un-tard a retard.  Needless to say, I failed.”
  • “I’m a ShoMo – a big Broadway musical queen.”
  • (An obstetrician) “Dr. Jones, at your cervix.  Dilated to meet you!”
  • “I thought my boyfriend was a guido, going to Atlantic City to party with his yo-bro’s.  It turned out he was a ‘mo.  Those yo-bro’s were his mo-bro’s.”
  • “My boyfriend is kind of kinky.  I call him a ‘BOB’.  A ‘bend-over boyfriend.'”
  • (A leather queen patiently correcting me): “The phrase ‘ass-less chaps’ is redundant, Will.”
  • (On a Skype session with a client in Japan) “I feel like I’m having an earthquake.” “You mean, from the session?”  “No, the house is shaking.” (Indeed, she’d been experiencing an earthquake during our call.)
  • “When I was 11 years old, a bully beat me up and I refused to go to school the next day.  My mother told me we were immigrants, and I had to be brave.  She gave me a $10 bill and said, find a big kid and pay him to beat up the bully.”
  • “He wasn’t really hot.  He was “lawyer-hot” – as in, I was stuck at work and horny.”
  • “My friends have a party game – match the most unlikely Asian surname to a Western given name.  My personal favorite is ‘Tyrone Ramachandran.'”
  • “So he came on her back while she was sleeping and stuck the sheet on it.  That’s called ‘superman-ing the bitch.'”
  • “He rolled his foreskin over my foreskin – that’s called ‘docking.'”
  • Told by a woman with a particularly wicked sense of humor: “What do 9 out of 10 people enjoy?  Gang rape.”
  • “He tried to omelet me.  That’s when he comes in my ear and folds it over.”
  • Told by an attractive young blonde: “This cab driver in Rome asked me the time.  He was about 70 years old, four feet tall and didn’t speak English.  I shook my head.  So he gestured like this (facing the palms of his hands over one another like two people in bed) and said ‘meesh-meesh?’  Now I say “meesh-meesh” instead of ‘have sex.’ (So, eventually, did the rest of her therapy group, after hearing that story.)
  • “I’m Filipino.  I don’t talk about sex.  But we did stuff.  That’s all I’ll say – we did stuff.”  (…which is how “did stuff” became the official euphemism for sex in my other therapy group.)
  • (Asian client) “Once you’ve had Asian – there’s no more Caucasian.”
  • (Black client) “Once you’ve had white – you go white back to black.”
  • Client in my HIV+ gay men’s group: “My thing is low-hangers.  I love low-hangers.” (This brought the group to a stand-still.)

  • “I went to a meeting of a nudist book club, but it was movie night.”
  • “She DIH-n’t!” (Said by a gay Latin client.)  “Yuh-huh she did!”  (I was coached to say this precisely in sync with him.)
  • (A Cameroonian client) “My mother’s family tried to bury my aunt on our property, so they could build their house there – but we chased them off.  It is our land still.”
  • (A drag queen) “A sidecar, in a wine glass, with three cherries.  That’s a drag queen drink.”
  • (A young woman experimenting with swinging and group sex.) “He ‘Houdini-ed’ her.  That’s when you do a girl from behind, against a big window.  Then you pull out, and your buddy takes over, while you run around the front of the window and wave at them.”
  • “I suppose my boyfriend might have been more aware of my feelings if he weren’t FUCK-TARDED.”
  • (A plus size woman making light of her predicament) How is a moped like a fat girl?  They’re both fun to ride until your friends see you.

That’s enough for now.  You get the idea.  Enjoy your summer and good luck on the bar!

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What is it about lawyers and vacations? Like the old saying about long-horn cattle and a Texas fence – they just don’t get along so good. It’s like a physical aversion.

I worked with a client recently who was planning, in utter frustration, to quit his medium-size firm in a medium-size American city. The partner was lecturing him about his billable hours, but business was dead slow so there was nothing to bill for. The lawyer found out later that all his peers were simply billing for work that hadn’t been done yet, on the theory that they’d be laid off by the time the proverbial cow-patty and the fan were joined in unison.

He couldn’t bring himself to fake his time records to that degree, so he was stomping mad, announcing in stentorian tones that this was it, he was quitting. I urged him to stick around and see if he couldn’t get laid off with everyone else, so he could at least receive unemployment. No, he insisted – he needed out now.

Well, I reasoned, then why not take some vacation, so you can cool off and kill time simultaneously?

That was unthinkable.

It turned out he hadn’t had a vacation in 8 months – and that vacation was for 3 days.

Yes. THREE DAYS. Actually five, he said, since he took the weekend, too.

He took the weekend.

His objection to taking a vacation now? He wasn’t going out like that, on a sour note. That wouldn’t be right.

So. Quitting in a huff was okay. But taking any of his accumulated vacation time when the firm was so slow there was nothing for anyone to do and everyone was faking their hours? Inconceivable.

Flash forward six weeks. He didn’t quit. Instead he managed to convince a partner to dump a bunch of work on him, and actually managed to approach the insane billable hours requirement for last month. Now he’s totally exhausted, and his fellow junior associates are complaining he’s hogging the work.

How about a vacation? I suggested.

No way. He’d just made his hours – how could he take a vacation now?

But isn’t that the whole idea? That you’ve earned some time off?

He looked at me like I’d gone mad. If he took vacation now, all the other associates would get his work and he wouldn’t be able to make his hours. Besides, if he took vacation, he’d have to work twice as hard.

Why? I asked. If you’re off for two weeks of the month, you’re only expected to work half as many hours, right?

Wrong. It doesn’t work that way. You still have to make your hours for that month, even if you take a vacation. You just have to pull double-shifts.

Doesn’t that defeat the whole point of taking a vacation?

He shrugged me off, exasperated. I didn’t get it.

In the twisted mind of a lawyer, taking a vacation is simply bad. To take a vacation when the firm is slow rubs the unthinkable in their face – that the firm is slow. When things are busy? Well, then you’re not pulling your weight, are you?

Of course, you can’t simply “take” a vacation at a law firm – you have to clear it with the partner. At my client’s firm, the standard response was: “this isn’t a good time.”

There is no good time.

Continue Reading »

Stuck.

This week’s question is from A.M.:

What strategies can you suggest for someone who is stuck when writing, say a thesis or a dissertation? Two people dear to me have essentially withdrawn from society, apparently unable to deal with the ego strain of finishing this last piece of the degree. Any thoughts?

And here’s my answer:

[Youtube=http://www.youtube.com/w?v=bjcf95c083E]

To submit a question to Ask The People’s Therapist, please email it as text or a video to: wmeyerhofer@aquietroom.com

If I answer your question on the site, you’ll win a free session of psychotherapy with The People’s Therapist!

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My patient was in a tizzy about a relationship:

“I don’t know if I can do this.  I mean – he’s talking about going on a vacation together.  What if we break up before then?”

I tried to calm her down.

“You guys have been dating for a month.  No one’s bought tickets.  He’s just talking.  And you two seemed to be having fun together.”

“But I don’t want to hurt his feelings.  Maybe I should break up with him now, before he gets too into me.”

“You barely know each other.  Give it a chance.”

“But what if I want to date someone else?  Wouldn’t that be cheating?”

“After a month?  It’s too soon for commitment.  Try to relax and have some fun.”

I encounter this type of anxiety in my patients all the time.  Relationships are scary because people make them scary.  Even during the first few weeks, they build up the pressure until they’re going nuts, then complain that they feel smothered, walled-in, overwhelmed, suffocated – it doesn’t make any sense.

When you climb a ladder, you shouldn’t look down because you’ll get scared.  The trick is to ignore how high you’re getting, and keep climbing.  At some point it doesn’t really matter how high you are – you’re high enough that if you fell, it would be bad.  So why bother looking and get freaked out – just keep climbing.

It’s the same with relationships.  Don’t look too far ahead or you’ll panic.  Try to relax, keep going, and have fun.  If you pay too much attention to how many weeks, or months, or even years have gone by, it will only spook you.  Take it day by day, moment by moment.  How long a relationship has been running doesn’t tell you anything about its quality in the moment, where it’s actually playing out.  Maybe you’ve been together 60 days or 60 years. They both probably seem like a long time, depending on where you are in your life.  The more important question is are you happy together right now?

The past is behind you and the future is unknown.  The present is where you live.  That’s where relationships take place.  The key question each day is:  am I having fun?  Do I want to continue to share experience with this person?

If the answer is yes, keep going.  If not, maybe wait a little while longer, and if the answer is still no – it might be time to move on.

I’m amazed at how quickly my patients begin to feel overwhelmed by relationships.  That happens because they rush things – stare out at the distant horizon instead of staying in the moment and concentrating on today, the time you’re sharing right now with another person.

Remember, it’s easy to break up.  It takes about two minutes.  Say “this isn’t working for me” and walk away.  Done.  You can end a relationship in the time it takes to brush your teeth.  No one is “trapped” in a relationship.

Starting a relationship is the time-consuming part:  meeting someone, connecting, finding out about one another and keeping it going.

The road ahead in every relationship is unknown.  And it doesn’t really matter all that much because you can’t control the future.

I’ve developed a few general time guidelines for relationships, just from watching my clients and seeing what works.  I think four months of dating is a symbolic milestone.  That’s the first time it would be remotely sensible to consider whatever you two have more than casual dating, and maybe even contemplate the idea of becoming exclusive.  I don’t know why I chose four months – maybe the idea of sharing an entire season of the year is symbolic.  You’ve gone one quarter of the way around the sun in one another’s company, from equinox to solstice (or vice versa.)

Six or eight months seems like a reasonable time before you consider yourselves a couple and present yourselves as such.  A year or 18 months seems like a reasonable amount of time before you think about moving in together.

These are not hard figures – everyone has their own way of doing things.  But if you’re going much faster than that, you’re probably rushing things – trying to get to the end of the road instead of letting things unfold organically, and stopping to enjoy the ride.

There’s no rush to get “established” in a relationship.  A relationship never has to be anything other than a choice you’re making because you’re enjoying it – something you want to do, today, for yourself.

Anyone who’s in a really good long-term relationship will tell you:  it’s best when every day feels like the first day, when you first met someone interesting and thought – hey, this is fun.

An editor at AboveTheLaw suggested some months back that I do a piece on the US News & World Report law school rankings. For whatever reason, this stodgy old weekly news magazine – which someone must still read – has created a sideline business publishing rankings of schools, including law schools. I’m not sure what the criteria are, but at least in theory, it’s a big deal for lawyers when the list comes out each year.

The rankings seem designed to make official what everyone knows anyway, i.e., that there are “prestige” schools that are harder to get into. But like any good opinion piece, they throw in a few twists – familiar names in unexpected places. It boils down to dissing one of the big places, or unexpectedly anointing a second-rank outfit. That way everyone can get riled up over the respective rankings of my school versus your school.

It sounded kind of boring, so I filed the idea away.

Then it started to gnaw at me. The US News list seemed like a good example of the amazing lengths lawyers go to in order to distinguish themselves from one another. The entire profession splits hairs like this because the career path is so conservative there isn’t much to distinguish one attorney from another. Every lawyer lines up to take the LSAT, then get processed and distributed to law schools based on hairline distinctions. In class you sit through identical lectures, take identical exams, and head off – for the most part – to identical firms to do nearly identical work.

You end up arguing over the details.

The law school curriculum is pretty much the same thing wherever you go – it’s standardized. I doubt the property law lecture at a “top” law school is much different, let along superior, to a property law lecture at a less “prestigious” place.

But, of course the students are “better” at the more prestigious school – because they did better on their LSAT. How much better? Some tiny fraction of a percentage, probably, representing a few questions that they got right and someone else got wrong.

I worked with one lawyer who went to a “second-tier” law school in New York, but rose to the top of his class and made law review. He said he still faces resistance at top firms because of snobbery over where he went to school – even though he’s been out and working for eight years. Those Yale and Harvard lawyers at the big firms, he says, turn their noses up at his top of the class record at a “lesser” school – as well as his federal clerkship and the years of hard work that followed.

I’m currently working with a couple of young lawyers who find themselves in the odd position of trying to decide how to appraise the “value” of a “top school.” One woman was accepted at a “top” place, but offered a full scholarship at a “second-tier” institution. Is it worth $150k to go to the prestige school? The education itself will be nearly identical. Is the snob value worth it? According to one of my clients, half the kids at Columbia Law are struggling to find jobs right now, so it doesn’t sound like the “top “ places are pulling their weight. On the other hand, maybe it’s even worse coming out of a “second tier” joint. Crucially, though – with no debt, she wouldn’t be as desperate as everyone else. I see plenty of young lawyers emerging from “top schools” (and every other kind of school) with shaky job prospects, huge debt and – worst of all – the sense that going to law school was a mistake. The debt reduces them to indentured servitude, making it impossible to do anything else, at least until they’ve paid the piper.

How about the law firms themselves? Surely some are “better” than others?

Continue Reading »

This week’s question comes from L, in New York City. She asks:

Do you think that personality “flaws” (e.g. shyness, lack of confidence/self-esteem, being an approval-seeker) are entirely learned behaviors, or do you think that to some extent you are born with these characteristics?  In other words, what do you think about nature vs. nurture when it comes to personality?

Here’s my answer:

To submit a question to Ask The People’s Therapist, please email it as text or a video to: wmeyerhofer@aquietroom.com

If I answer your question on the site, you’ll win a free session of psychotherapy with The People’s Therapist!

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I ♥ Law!

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?

Continue Reading »

My patient was clearly miserable in her job as a graduate student and laboratory scientist.  But she’d worked very hard to get into this position.  And she was only 3 years away from a PhD.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she said.  “I’m just not good enough, I guess.”

She was blaming herself for this career not working out.  I suggested an alternative.

Instead of viewing a job as a task, consider it is a role.  Not a thing, but a person.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t do this job – it was that the job didn’t represent her authentic self.  She wasn’t a laboratory scientist.

Initially, as a teenager, your career dreams hit a cruel reality when you discover that your talents and aptitudes are limited by nature, not by choice.  You probably had all the commitment it took to be a rock star…but none of the talent.

That’s a harsh, if commonplace realization.  You tend – especially as an adolescent – to imagine yourself as the protagonist in a heroic narrative, and it can be crushing to realize you are limited by banal realities like being too short to be a basketball star, or singing too out of tune to be the next Beyonce.

Once this life lesson is learned, though, you think you’ve found your groove.  You’ll just find something you’re good at, and do it.

Unfortunately, that’s when you hit yet another realization.

Even if you have the talent and aptitude for a certain job – you also have to “be” that job.  It has to represent who you are.

That’s why you have to know who you are before you can know what you want to do.

Think about work for a moment, and how it came into being.  Originally, when all humans were primitive hunter-gatherers, the break-down of labor must have been rather simple.  Mostly likely the men went hunting out in the field and the women took care of the kids and whatever other tasks could be handled close to the settlement area.

With the arrival of agriculture and domesticated livestock – and much greater population densities – greater specialization arrived.  The Middle Ages in Europe saw the rise of guilds – early unions for skilled laborers.  There was also more leisure time – at least for the wealthy classes – so artists and musicians began to appear.  A king or a duke might hire you simply to set gemstones on snuff boxes, so he could hand them out as keepsakes.

You can view this development in one of two ways – that there was a need for lavish snuffboxes and someone had to be found to make them – or sightly differently:  there was someone out there who had the idea and the inclination to make lavish snuffboxes, and he finally found his opportunity to follow a dream.

I think the second explanation makes more sense.  As roles in society became more specialized, people were more able to express who they were by finding a niche where they fit in.  Each “job” or “career” was really someone finding an outlet to express himself.

The real question, then, isn’t how you can find something you can do.  It’s who are you, and what is the job that reflects your authentic identity.

Years ago I spent a weekend at the home of a very wealthy man, the father of a friend from school.  This guy was a genuine titan of business – he sat on the board of a federal reserve bank and went fly-fishing with Paul Volcker.  He was a terrific guy and a wonderful host, and the first thing I noticed about him was that he loved to play games – board games, card games, any games.  The second thing I noticed was that he always won. Always.  Each and every time.  By a wide margin.

Clearly, there is a link between success in business and aptitude at games.  That is demonstrably true – Bill Gates and Warren Buffett are both expert poker players and so are dozens of other zillionaires.

But some people who are good at games simply become gaming enthusiasts, or mathematicians or computer scientists.  To become a titan of the business world, you have to be a titan of the business world.  It has to be who you are.

The quickest way to figure out if a career fits who you are is to go to the lunchroom where you work, or some other forum where a bunch of other people with that career are gathered, and ask yourself if you fit in with this crowd.  Now – of course – you could always decide to do things your own way – be that renegade accountant who doesn’t ride with the pack.  But, as a general rule, if you stick out like a sore thumb in the lunchroom, it might be a good indication that you don’t belong in this crowd – and this job doesn’t represent the essence of  who you are.

Sometimes we run from the truth of who we are.  My graduate student patient had ended up studying science mostly because it was practical.  She was an immigrant from China, and pretty good at math and science, and she needed something practical, that could get her to the United States, but didn’t require perfect English skills.

Deep in her heart, she confessed to me later, she longed to be a writer – a journalist.  That might be a lot tougher to arrange – but ultimately, it was her happiness at stake, and we both concluded she’d be better off struggling to be true to herself than continuing to pursue a career that felt false and unsatisfying.

I once worked with a man who was preparing to take the MCAT exam to enter medical school.  He, too, had the aptitude to be a doctor.  But deep in his heart, he confessed to me, he longed to be a hair-dresser.

My opinion was that the world needed an inspired hair-dresser more than it needed an uninspired doctor.

You might think you need to choose something practical for a career.  But at some point, you realize a career isn’t about what you choose – it’s about who you are.  It chooses you as much as you choose it.

I had a patient who went to law school and struggled to make a career as a corporate attorney, but he was miserable.  The odd thing was that his entire family worked as teachers.  I finally asked him why he hadn’t become a teacher like everyone else.  He thought about it and said he’d wanted to be different.  Being a teacher seemed like giving up and admitting he was like everyone else in his family.

Eventually, he ended up quitting law anyway, and – sure enough – pursuing teaching.  But he found his own way to be a teacher. In so doing, he found a way to be himself.

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My patient was telling me about his new job.

On the face of things, there was nothing to complain about. He’d hated his old firm — a Biglaw institution that he called “soulless.” The new place, a New York City-based securities boutique, was different. The people were smart – practically cosmopolitan by comparison. And for the first time, he wasn’t being treated like a junior. They respected his judgment – no one was correcting his work.

I offered congratulations.

He looked thoughtful, and I asked what was wrong.

“This is going to sound crazy.”

“Crazy is my business. Try me.”

“I didn’t want to get this job. I was hoping the old place would fire me.”

“Okay. Why?”

“I wanted to be free.”

He’d gone so far in pursuit of his secret fantasy of getting fired that he’d planned a trip to India and investigated moving to Oregon, where an old friend lives. He had money saved up, and was ready to apply for unemployment and sell his apartment. It was all worked out. He was going to escape – to chase a dream of living near the mountains and surrounding himself with laid-back, creative people.

Now – by a stroke of luck – he was sitting in another big city law firm, earning a large salary, continuing with his career.

He had nothing to complain about – but he was crushed.

The problem was simple. He was going nowhere – or, at least, nowhere he wanted to be.

This guy could stick around at this firm for twenty years and end up a senior securities attorney – maybe even a partner. He’d be wealthy. He’d attend bar association thingamabobs and sit on panels. He’d have his own clients and bring in business. That was where he was headed if he stayed on his current track, passively charting the course of least resistance.

But he didn’t want any of that. He didn’t like securities law. He didn’t really like law, period. He just fell into it because he needed something to do and stayed for the money.

Now he sat in my office, crying – talking about what might have been.

“My friend owns a restaurant, in Oregon, on an old wharf. They specialize in organic, locally-grown food. I was going to move to Oregon and manage the place for him. I wouldn’t earn much, but my friend says I have the personality and the talent to run a restaurant. And I love Oregon – living near the forest and the sea.”

I asked him what was stopping him from quitting right now to pursue his dream.

“I’d never have the balls. I couldn’t give up this money.”

“Not even for your dream?”

He shook his head. That was that. It was decided.

Stasis is a trap between anger and fear. Anger that you aren’t living the life you want. Fear that if you let go, you’ll lose everything.

Continue Reading »

This week’s question is from Laure, in Canada.  She writes:

Thank you for blogging about the various issues raised during your therapy sessions, I find it most interesting to read and learn from! I particularly appreciate your insight on lawyer patients, as I I will soon be entering law school, and all of your comments on trust (trusting others at the law firm, trusting one’s therapist and one’s partner, for example).

I was wondering if you could please develop and give examples on how to apply your advice given during your interview with Above the law (February 11, 2010) :

“I’d tell them to maintain a “self boundary” – a sort of emotional insulation from the toxic environment of law firms. There is work, and there is you, and there is a firm boundary between the two. You can do what is asked of you, and tolerate some brutal treatment at the office, but that toxicity doesn’t enter your soul; it doesn’t get in where it shouldn’t be, where you dwell, with the child that you were, the vulnerable you that needs love and care and appreciation.”

How would a law student go about shutting out the toxic environment and competitiveness of law school?

And here is my answer:

To submit a question to Ask The People’s Therapist, please email it as text or a video to: wmeyerhofer@aquietroom.com

If I answer your question on the site, you’ll win a free session of psychotherapy with The People’s Therapist!

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The phrase “addicted to oil” gets bandied about a lot with reference to the USA’s massive reliance upon – and consumption of – fossil fuels.

It’s worth taking a look at what drives an addiction, any addiction.

First, there is the physical element – the fact that, due to your genetic predisposition, you crave a substance, such as alcohol or drugs.  In the case of the USA and oil, that translates into some unique factors in our history and our geography.  Settlers from Europe “discovered” a vast, sparsely-populated continent.  They found oil there, invented the automobile, and the land grab already underway switched into high gear. Behind romanticized notions like “frontier” and “cowboy” lies a wasteful low-density settlement pattern that renders mass transit a virtual impossibility.  As a result, “the American Dream” always seems to involve owning a big house far away from everyone else, and driving hundreds of miles per day in a gas-guzzling car.

The second factor spurring addiction is aggression.  As the addict awakens to the cost of his behavior, it begins to take on a different tinge – it becomes about anger.  As one of my clients, a recovered alcoholic, told me – when you’re doing something so obviously self-destructive, there’s always a “to hell with it” attitude running things, an attitude of aggression.  You can wrap yourself up in excuses, but deep down every addict knows what he’s doing is not only self-destructive, but destructive, period.  Feeding the addiction becomes an outlet for aggression.

There are good evolutionary reasons why discharging aggression feels good.  The aggressive animal can intimidate his rivals and mate widely, producing the most off-spring.  The animal who most enjoys aggression, like the animal who most enjoys sex, is the animal who reproduces most successfully.

The problem with discharging aggression, at least in humans, is that it produces a hang-over.  You awaken to remorse.


It’s fun to chant “drill, baby, drill” with cheap demagogues like Sarah Palin and Michael Steele.  There’s a major “to hell with it” factor at play.  You don’t care about pollution – you just want to have fun, like Arnold Schwarzenegger storming LA in a Hummer or Palin blasting around a pristine forest in a snowmobile. You hate feeling deprived and controlled. You want what you want, when you want it.  Get out of my way and let me guzzle!  I’m going to get drunk tonight and Par-TAY!!!

Sounds like every alcoholic on a binge since the dawn of time.

Then comes the morning after.

It will take more than a single morning-after and one bad hang-over to wake this country up to its addiction.  At very least, it will require hitting a true bottom – like the environmental holocaust happening right now in the Gulf of Mexico.  After this calamity, there can be no more denying how far things have gone.  The USA is a sad case.  A wreck.  Let’s be realistic – we’re hard-core users.  If that oil weren’t swirling in deadly currents in the Gulf and the Atlantic right now, it would be burning in power plants and a million internal combustion engines, its deadly currents rising into our atmosphere to wreak a different kind of havoc.  We’re unleashing astonishing destruction each and every day.  We know that.

We are Americans and we are fossil fuel addicts.  We know it is bad for us.  We know it is bad for our neighbors and our family – the Earth and every species on it.  The question is whether this is it – we’ve hit bottom – or whether we’ll go right back to bingeing.  How bad does it have to get?  Can we get clean, or will we continue as we have been – following in the footsteps of so many addicts before us – killing ourselves and wrecking the lives of others.

It is a common trope in books and films about alcohol and drug addiction that to truly hit bottom you have to do something you regret for the rest of your life.  Typically, that involves causing harm or death to a helpless innocent, like a child.  The alcoholic who drives home drunk and hits a third-grader crossing the street usually sobers up, because that’s a pretty awful bottom to hit.

We’re there.  Take a look at the pictures of wildlife destroyed by this spill.

We did that, because of our addiction.

It’s time to own the situation – to get clean and sober.  Enough is enough.

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I summered at Shearman & Sterling way back in 1996. Judging from my clients’ feedback, the summer associate “experience” at big law firms hasn’t changed much over the years. With the recession, it’s harder to get a summer associate position – but once you’re in, it’s pretty much the same old thing – or maybe the same old thing on lysergic acid diethylamide. It was a pretty weird experience to begin with.

As a summer associate, you’re entering Bizarro World, and nothing makes sense in Bizarro World. Nothing ever has, and nothing ever will.

Here’s how it works:

You show up, dressed in the new suit you probably bought with your mom. You’re a little nervous and eager to impress. The first day starts out pretty much as you’d expect, with human resources spiels – “trainings” – on stuff like how to use the library, how to turn on your computer, how to find the word-processing department, whatever.

You are presented with your desk – your own desk in a law firm! You chat excitedly with the other summers, sizing one another up, seeking allies – someone you can trust, who seems to be thinking the same things you are. There are no obvious candidates.

What now?

Eventually you are introduced to a senior associate and given your first assignment. You rush off to finish it and promise yourself it will be the best summer associate assignment in the history of the firm. As you get down to work, it turns out to be some confusing research question that either has an obvious answer that you find in about twenty minutes, or it’s not really a question at all, it’s just a broad open-ended request to poke around for cases, so you’re not sure what they want. Or it’s an inquiry regarding the income taxation of irrevocable charitable annuity trust stand-by provisions in the State of Florida under provision b(7), and you’re feeling a little out of your depth.

Either:

You finish it in twenty minutes, with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that maybe you did something wrong. So you wait an hour or two, re-checking everything, then poke around the library trying to look serious and busy before you hand it in.

Or you struggle through dozens of cases, trying to find something relevant, with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that maybe you’re doing something wrong, but determined to produce a good heap of print-outs and some sort of summary even if you suspect you might be totally off-point.

Or you try to figure out what a charitable annuity trust is and stand gaping like an idiot while the punctilious and efficient law librarian produces state law documents that appear to be written in Klingon. A cold wave of panic rolls up your spine. You wonder if it’s worth the risk to ask the senior associate for more guidance.

Let’s say you actually go back to the senior associate. You brace yourself to look like an idiot. You knock on his office door, and he’s surprisingly friendly.

“Ummmm…I’m not sure I understood the parameters of the question. Do you think I could walk through it with you for a minute?”

He smiles, and too-quickly agrees that the question was a little unclear, but says it looks like you did a great job of “taking a stab at it.” He admits he’s busy at the moment, and suggests you put it down for now, but adds that you’ve “done a great job” and he’ll have another assignment for you soon.

That was your first assignment and you’re sure all you’ve accomplished is to make the one guy you needed to impress think you’re an idiot.

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