I’m sick of being a lawyer — perhaps I should put some of my other skills to use?
Text: Expert Tetris Player wanted for 30 minutes — $10
-Michael
Posts Tagged ‘lawyers’
The First-Year Associate Fifteen: Why Does BigLaw Make Me Fat?
April 13, 2010Above the Law ran a piece this morning on a topic that triggered a pang of self-recognition: gaining weight in BigLaw. For some reason, in just a few short months of practice at a typical “BigLaw” firm, I’ve piled on a boatload of blubber. So where is it all coming from? One ATL writer thinks first-year fat like mine comes from associates who like to run up the bill on client-comped late-night meals:
Apparently, the rationale in a guy’s mind is that if some jerkhat client is going to make him sit around waiting for turned documents at 9 p.m. when he could otherwise have been sitting at home watching The Little Chocolatiers, the client would have to pay, and pay DEARLY for it. Punishing a client by padding hours is one form of “revenge,” but the other and ostensibly more common variety is to charge the client $30 – the absolute limit – for dinner every night. And so begins the “spiteful” $30 sushi orders, the seven extra Snapples, and the gratuitous bags of jelly beans “for later.” It all adds up to a half-assed Biggest Loser audition tape and a form rejection letter in the mail saying that you’re fat but didn’t have a compelling story.
Hmmm . . . an interesting theory. But my chub rub doesn’t come from getting back at the clients, because I’ve never actually charged a single dinner to my firm.
ATL’s Elie Mystal, a fellow prince of pudge, provides another explanation:
Was my aging metabolism just catching up with me?
No. I think it was the infinite sadness. I believe that happy people naturally get more exercise than sad people. You say “it’s a nice day, I think I’ll walk to work.” You say, “sure buddy, going to Chelsea Piers sounds like great fun.” You just do more things when you are in a good mood. And you eat less. When you are in a bad mood, you kind of sit there, angry, and waiting for the opportunity to go home and sleep. At the firm my lifestyle was wake up and sit down, travel in a moving chair to my office where I’d sit. Sit all day until it was time to call for another moving chair which would take me to my door. Go to my bedroom and sit for a bit, then eventually pass out. Shoveling food and drink into my mouth at every opportunity. It’s no way to live, and it puts on a lot of weight.
Ah ha! Now that sounds more like my lifestyle. The strange thing about law practice is how draining it can be; the often frustrating work, the boredom, the stress, and the time suck all congeal into one very blob-like associate. In law school, I found working out was a great release for my frustrations. After joining a firm, that work out time is just less time in my wonderful, comfy bed. When I’m awake and upright, I’m often sitting at a table at a mid-scale* restaurant. My colleagues often come to me for restaurant recommendations, suggesting I either (a) have good taste or (b) have “restaurant butt.” (Oddly, the Zagat guy once worked my firm.)
So what’s a young guy to do? Unfortunately, ATL offers lots of snark but no easy answers. Many of the commenters suggest the only way to smaller pants is a job at a smaller firm. Maybe I could buy myself a treadmill desk?
Whatever. I’m going to go have some cake.
-Michael
*I say mid-scale because they’re not quite upscale. I do have law school loans, after all.
The Problem of the “Al Qaeda 7″
March 10, 2010There’s been a lot of attention this week paid to a recent video released by Keep America Safe, a group led by (among others) Liz Cheney. The video attacks lawyers at the Justice Department who (prior to their time at Justice) volunteered to represent Guantanamo detainees. The video questions the “loyalties” of the lawyers, who have been branded the “Al Qaeda 7.”
I’ve been encouraged by the number of folks (liberal and conservative) who have come to the defense of these lawyers. Sadly, however, there are still those who essentially argue that the lawyers are guilty of treason. Take, for example, the views of Andrew McCarthy, a National Review editor (of course) and former federal prosecutor:
Here is the legal profession’s message for the American people: “We’re just more important than you are.” Members of any other profession or institution would be indicted for coming to the enemy’s aid during wartime. Lawyers not only demand immunity from the ordinary duties of citizenship, but they insist that you admire them, or, at the very least, regard them as above criticism for volunteering their services to those trying to kill Americans.
McCarthy contends that enemy combatants have no right to a lawyer — so pro bono lawyers are essentially going out of their way to provide comfort that is not required by the Constitution. But even assuming McCarthy’s premise is correct, when did the Constitution become the limit to human compassion? And why is the aid given by lawyers any different than the “aid” given by chaplains, nurses, cooks, and other “care” providers at Gitmo?
McCarthy tries to distinguish this aid by arguing lawyers “assist[] the enemy in lawsuits against the American people during wartime.” That necessarily assumes that long-term internment with no defensible legal justification is in the “American people’s” interest. We need defense of enemy combatants for the same reasons that we need defense of the more common criminal — that defense is the only obvious way to restrain an overly aggressive government.
Even some defenders of the “Al Qaeda 7″ seem to ignore that such a check is necessary in every circumstance. Stephen Gillers of NYU Law tries to distinguish what he perceives as acceptable forms of lawyer representation (e.g., representing detainees) from unacceptable representation:
I would criticize a law firm that chose to work for South Africa during apartheid and helped the regime stay in power. And I would criticize a lawyer who helped a drug company export to an impoverished nation products banned as unsafe in the United States.
But doesn’t the drug company need a defense, too? Lacking that defense, how do the facts of its malfeasance get challenged, tested, and then publicized? As an empirical-ist, I believe that something can only be true when it is tested and challenged (through experimentation or trial). Without the opposing view (drug company good), we can never test the view held by Gillers (drug company bad). The same is true in the terrorist context, as noted by one astute commenter at the NY Times:
I want accused terrorists and accused war criminals to have attorneys. How else will I be sure (at least more sure) that the true culprits have been apprehended and the government is not railroading someone while they try to hide the evidence of the truly guilty.
It would be nice if we could assume infallibility in our government, and trust that the right people are in Gitmo. If we had that, I might agree that there is no requirement for lawyers. Lacking that infallibility, we need the crucible of a counsel-based system.
-Michael
Update: The always awesome Orin Kerr agrees.
Armor for the Medieval Lawyer
December 14, 2009The Middle Ages were a rough time for everyone, but lawyers were especially vulnerable — the pen is not, it turns out, mightier than the zweihänder. Medieval lawyers were therefore dependent upon their expertly crafted chainmail armor in order to survive attacks from opposing counsel, unhappy clients, or people who had just watched productions of Henry VI.
The complete chainmail lawyer collection.
It’s all about the Abrahams. This lightweight, durable wallet comes complete with card holders and notepad. Try using the chainmail pen below to write in it.
This dragonscale tie is not just fashionable — made of steel and copper, and coming in at a total weight of 1.2 pounds, the tie easily doubles as a short range weapon, ideal for repelling any nun-chuck wielding ninjas that may attack a courtroom in the midst of oral arguments.
Guarding the pocketbook is a timeless concern. With this European style chainmail covered checkbook, your negotiable instruments are safe from stray bullets and/or meat cleaver strikes. Plus, in a pinch, when unfolded, this checkbook doubles as a 8″ x 7″ chainmail shield and/or bludgeon.
What corporate warrior would be complete without a set of business cards?
Not having any colored rings, my initial plan was to either use a sharpie on or paint individual rings and build the writing into the weave itself. I was deeply annoyed to discover how bloody hard it is to color aluminum rings yourself — the sharpy ink rubs off immediately, and if you paint it with enough coats for it to not be rubbed off, the rings become too warped for a snug weave like this business card uses.
My annoyance later evaporated, however, and I became deeply grateful for how easy paint comes off of chainmail, when I made an extremely unsuccessful attempt to paint “ViewfromLL2.com” on the card. And it turned into a gigantic painty mess. So I doused it in hot water, cleaned it up, and went with a simple “LL2″ written on it instead.
Finally, there are few things more precious to a lawyer than their blackberry. How else will they know at 11pm if an unhappy partner needs them to come back to the office immediately? Plus it is only one eighth as lame as all those other cellphone holsters on the market, so if you must advertise the fact you are a complete tool by carrying your phone about on your belt, at least switch to a chainmail pouch.
Here you can see the blogyer (blogger/wannabe-lawyer) in her native habitat — the desk where she applies to jobs from. With her sturdy lawyer armor, she can battle against any judge or tortfeasor that dares to get in her way.
Although lawyer chainmail armor is intended to intimidate legal opponents, as demonstrated by this photo and the previous one, it does carry the risk that you could be mistaken for a waitress who does not know how to center her tie, or else a parking enforcement officer that you really do not want to mess with.
Next: And for more chainmail, check out Chainmail for the Medieval Kitten.
-Susan
Update: Scott Rothstein Arrested
December 1, 2009In a follow-up to an earlier post, high-flying South Florida lawyer Scott Rothstein was arrested this morning on RICO charges. As the ABA Journal explains:
He is accused of operating a Ponzi scheme involving investments in legal settlements. Investors were asked to make an upfront payment, supposedly to a lawsuit plaintiff expected a series of payments over a period of months or years. Later, the investors were told, they would get back the full settlement amount. “But it was all a scam,” according to the Miami Herald. “Federal prosecutors said there were no plaintiffs, no defendants, no lawsuits.”
To get a sense of what a weirdo this guy is, check out this video tour of his office.
-Michael
P.S. What’s with all the Ponzi schemes lately?
Law Firm Sues To Dissolve Itself
November 2, 2009
In something that sounds like a line from a lawyer joke, South Florida firm Rothstein Rosenfeldt Adler filed suit in Broward County court today seeking to dissolve itself. The Complaint [PDF] explains that the firm’s managing partner, Scott Rothstein, has allegedly engaged in a scheme to defraud investors in a structured settlement scheme associated with the firm. When the firm learned that many of the structured settlement funds could not be accounted for this weekend, everybody wanted Rothstein gone. Unfortunately, he claims to own a 50% stake and, unsurprisingly, is unwilling to vote himself out.
This story could turn out to be one of the most bizarre of the increasingly frequent law firm dissolution stories lately.
-Michael
A Response To Scalia’s Blathering
October 5, 2009Although Susan has already covered Scalia’s recent ramblings, I was planning to do as well, so I’ll throw a few more thoughts in. Much of what Susan said addresses how law rightfully attracts intelligent individuals. She also takes a law and economics approach to explaining the social value that lawyering actually generates. Although law and economics is nothing new on this blog, I think it’s also useful to return to first principles for a moment. When returning to those principles, these types of comments from Scalia–a strong defender of personal freedom and respect for history–are even more incomprehensible.
When our nation was first created, we chose three essential principles to hold most dear: “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” Our forefathers created this nation because we felt that the bonds of an oppressive government stood in opposition to the achievement of those fundamental goals. Even though we may be free from the chains of the British crown, government and law are still potential tools of oppression. Therefore, it becomes the duty of those involved in our legal system to ensure that those values are preserved.
“The public defender from Podunk” is one example of one of the last lines of defense against the destruction of liberty. If that young woman “wasn’t really brilliant,” perhaps innocent men would be tried, jailed, and stamped with the badge of dishonor that a felony conviction is often taken to be. That young woman might go out and “invent the automobile,” but our country may face a horrible tradeoff for those four wheels: we may have more of our citizens unjustly stripped of their three most important possessions: life, liberty, and happiness. The criminal lawyer, therefore, is the protector of these personal rights from societal oppression.
I understand these arguments might seem most relevant in the criminal context, but I think civil lawyers do something terribly important as well. If we go back even further to the First Continental Congress’ Declaration of Colonial Rights, we find a different description of our most cherished national belongings: “life, liberty, and property.” The civil lawyer, therefore, guards against the unjust deprivation of the property that is rightfully his. The civil lawyer, therefore, is the protector of these property rights from societal oppression.
For any devoted constitutionalist to disavow these cardinal values is deplorable. For Scalia to use his position of power to espouse these views is just plain stupid.
-Michael
Update: Now folks over at Volokh are talking about this, too.
Does Scalia believe the world would be better off if he were a mathematician instead?
October 5, 2009I do love Scalia, but his thoughts on the wasted talents of brilliant legal minds strike me as uncharacteristically short sighted.
“I used to have just the opposite reaction,” Scalia said, according to the Law Blog account. “I used to be disappointed that so many of the best minds in the country were being devoted to this enterprise.
“I mean there’d be a … public defender from Podunk, you know, and this woman is really brilliant, you know. Why isn’t she out inventing the automobile or, you know, doing something productive for this society?
“I mean lawyers, after all, don’t produce anything. They enable other people to produce and to go on with their lives efficiently and in an atmosphere of freedom. That’s important, but it doesn’t put food on the table, and there have to be other people who are doing that. And I worry that we are devoting too many of our very best minds to this enterprise.”
The first objection is the obvious — I remain extremely skeptical that “so many of the best minds in the country” are truly inefficiently allocated to the study of law. People who are involved in the legal field will, unquestionably, encounter many brilliant people who are also in the legal field — because that’s mostly who they meet. This doesn’t mean there are somehow more of them there. And even though lawyers are the most likely profession to become prominent via politics and to achieve elected office, well, I’m pretty sure Scalia isn’t accusing our politicians of being the best minds in the country.
Second, even if it were true, it’s not clear to me that it would be a waste, per se, to have your best minds working as lawyers. Inasmuch as “law” can be said to have a purpose, its purpose is to reduce society’s transaction costs. That may not in itself be producing new goods or products, but it is increasing societal wealth.
Lawyers aren’t parasites, they’re route finders; the legal profession provides a highly specialized service that directs you in how to go from legal condition A to legal condition B. Sure, you’d probably be able to figure it out for yourself, eventually — but it would take you eons longer than someone who’s already spent a big chunk of their life learning that sort of thing. So having brilliant people focused on figuring out the best ways to bring down the inherent costs of human interactions doesn’t strike me as a bad thing.
Third and finally, even if our best and brightest were overrepresented in the legal field, that doesn’t mean society would necessarily be better off if they were directed to a different field instead. Although there are plenty of exceptions, I’d say that, for the most part, the good lawyers I’ve met are good because their talents and interests make them uniquely situated for legal work. They are good at rhetoric, good at logic and obfuscation, good at writing, good at wading through abstract chains of ideas. If they couldn’t be lawyers, they might make for great English professors or diplomats, but I don’t exactly see them going out and inventing the automobile.
-Susan
Susan Simpson
Michael Williams
