Most people are latching on to the hilarious rhetoric found in the complaint, which was written by someone who obviously has quite the opinion of himself. (Sources tell me–yes, I have sources!–that this associate exhibited a similarly high opinion of himself in law school, essentially declining to participate in the law journal he joined.) But what I find interesting is that the complaint captures many of the frustrating aspects of life as a young associate in a law firm. Of course, ordinary people don’t sue over these frustrations. But the complaint reminds me that many people enter law firms completely oblivious to the reality of life within them. And given that many young associates will be starting their new jobs in the coming weeks, it might be helpful to give some warnings. So, using Mr. Berry’s complaint [PDF] as my guide, here are five basic truths that future associates need to know:

1. Everything your law firm told you during your interview (and during the summer associate program) could be, and probably is, a lie.

Mr. Berry quickly discovered, however, that virtually every representation the firm had made about itself was false. It had told Mr. Berry it eschews artificial hierarchical structure, then refused Mr. Berry an assignment because it would be “unfair to the other associates.” It told Mr. Berry it valued intelligence and creativity, then reprimanded and ultimately fired him for exhibiting those traits. It claimed that the amount of responsibility an associate shoulders is dependent only on his willingness and ability, then reprimanded and ultimately fired him for demonstrating that willingness and ability to shoulder more responsibility.

Firms tell their new associates lots of great things. You’re going to get lots of training. Lots of responsibility. Lots of “mentoring.” Firms often talk about how each little associate is a unique snowflake to be cherished and loved individually.

Forget all that. Particularly at older firms–and even at most newer ones–things have been done a certain way for a very long time. That certain way generally does not include offering you special opportunities. It generally does include luring in the best associates they can find by any means necessary and then using them to leverage earnings. Recognize that early and you might not feel so wronged when the promises start coming apart.

2. Your opinion does not matter.

Document review is a cash cow for KBTF. On this particular project, any procedure Mr. Berry suggested to improve efficiency was eschewed. For example, among the documents were pictures of various employees of the client, or images of the company logo. They could not possibly have any relevance to the contract performance and fraudulent inducement case. Mr. Berry suggested they separate out these garbage files so they are not reviewed more than once. This suggestion was rejected by the managing attorney, who insisted that the team would be going through the documents several times during the course of the litigation, and it was better to re-view even those logo images every time. This small example again cost the client hundreds if not thousands of dollars in wasted effort.

Almost without exception, your firm does not want to hear how you think things could be done better. It doesn’t matter who you are or what you’ve done; you’ve now worked your way up to the bottom of the food chain. Embrace that reality. If you’re really ambitious, you might offer the gentlest of suggestions in the most compelling case, but don’t expect anything to come of it.

3. At least at first, you can’t say “no.”

In or around December 2010, Mr. Berry was given three large assignments in close succession, a document review project demanding full time, a research and writing project requiring additional significant time, and another document review project demanding full time. The third project was managed by Kim Conroy.

Mr. Berry had already started on the other two projects when it became known how much time Ms. Conroy’s project would require, and Mr. Berry realized he would not have the time to devote to Ms. Conroy’s project that she needed.

Upon information and belief, KBTF policy is that an associate is responsible for managing his own time, and that if he has been assigned too many projects at the moment, he may inform the managing attorney that he cannot take on the new project. … Mr. Berry replied again that he was happy to help, but that his other duties would prevent him from “owning” the project. … [R]efusing her project nonetheless angered Ms. Conroy and she lashed out by maliciously “reporting” Mr. Berry’s e-mail to Mr. Marks.

Some people will argue with me on this one. But from what I little I’ve seen, you’re taking a decided risk in saying “no” to any request within the first year of your employment. You have no credibility and partners are often inherently distrustful of young whipper snappers. As you get to know them better, you might be able to explain that you’re overloaded and ask off an assignment. But in the pupa stage of your career, too much work is what late nights are made for.

Even as you “mature” in your career, saying no will be tough in many firms. I’ve heard more than a few stories of firms that (a) encourage associates to communicate work conflicts to partners (allowing them to supposedly resolve it), but (b) respond harshly when an associate actually does so.

4. Common rules of civility do not apply.

In the other guest chair was a man wearing a suit that Mr. Berry had never seen before (“John Doe”). He stayed for the entire meeting, listening as Mr. Marks reprimanded Mr. Berry. Mr. Marks never introduced him to Mr. Berry nor acknowledged his presence, and the man never introduced himself. … The man’s unexplained presence was intimidating and distressing to Mr. Berry. It is outside all bounds of civility to subject an employee to a dressing-down while a stranger watches.

Law is often a high-stakes business. Perhaps because of the stress, perhaps because of the ego, or perhaps for some reason I haven’t figured out yet, civility and respect often fly out the window. That doesn’t mean you can stop being extraordinarily respectful and deferential to those around you. But it does mean that you might be spoken to in a way you haven’t been since a much earlier time. My first experience with an unpredictably angry partner was disorienting to say the least, but I guess one gets used to it.

5. You are not too good for any task. Your only role is to make money for the firm and make the partner’s life easier.

[A partner] said that Mr. Berry had “burned bridges” at the firm by asking for more responsibility, that because of the e-mail some partners now did not want to work with him, and that he was not allowed to ask for work that was above his position in the hierarchy.

I never thought of myself as arrogant. Entering a firm, I figured I would have no problem doing whatever needed to be done. Trouble is, after all that education, work, training, blood, and sweat, even the humblest folks can be frustrated when treated as a partner’s copy boy. Unfortunately, that’s part of the business. Some of this is likely institutional inertia, but some of it is also that someone needs to do the menial jobs that just have to get done, and you’re the cheapest. Understand that, continue trying to find ways to develop professionally during even the most mind-numbing times, and pray that you’ll move up the ladder in time.

*One note: I recognize in reading these over again that they sound a bit negative. In some ways, that’s intentional, as I think it’s important to share what little bits I’ve learned in my short period of practicing in the most direct manner possible. But I don’t mean to imply that private practice entirely sucks. You might get a shot at working on a cool case with a cool partner. At the very least, you are being paid and can afford a home and some comida. Most importantly, though, recognize that the job is just a job that does not define you. The young associates that seemed to do the best were the ones that just didn’t seem to take the damn thing so seriously. … Easier said than done, right?

-Michael

Update: Above the Law has more about the talented Mr. Berry.

1. Denial: “Well, I guess this is what unemployment feels like! It’s not so bad… And it won’t last long. Besides, after just taking the bar exam, I’d probably want to take a week off anyway, so I’ll just enjoy things for now. I’m going to organize all my files and catch up on every book I wanted to read the past three years but couldn’t find time for during law school! Yay!”
2. Anger: “#@$%*&$@%! Did you hear about that chick who sued her college because she couldn’t find a job? Maybe I’ll try that. No, wait, I won’t sue GW… I’ll sue the Career Development Office!! Fracking useless good-for-nothing CDO! This is all your fault! And also the fault of all those stupid experienced lawyers who got laid off and are now rudely taking my jobs!!! You know what would be a fair way of deciding who gets a job? From now on, all hiring decisions should be made by a barehanded fight to the death, last lawyer standing gets hired! I WILL DEFEAT ALL CHALLENGERS.”
3. Bargaining: “Dear law firm: Please hire me. I promise I am a decent lawyer. Also I have other useful skills, such as coffee-fetching, supply closet organizing, and shameless sycophancy. You don’t even have to pay me. All I ask in return is for a janitor’s closet to sleep in and full access to any food left over in the break room.”
4. Depression: “Rejection letters? Meh. Rejection phone calls? Meh. No big deal… I already knew they were going to reject me. I think today I am going to sit here and count how many times these job listings contain the phrase ‘must have 52-weeks post-JD experience to be considered.’ While eating this entire box of Oreos. By myself.”
5. Acceptance: You must not accept unemployment. Acceptance is the mind-killer. Acceptance is the little death that obliterates any chance of being a lawyer. The only acceptance permissible is the acceptance of a job offer. If no job offer is forthcoming, skip Stage 5 and start again at Step 1.

Currently, I am at Stage 3, for the fourth or fifth time. However, my theme song never fails to cheer me up. You can listen to it here.

-Susan

1. Denial: “Oh, this isn’t the way the job is really going to be. Sure, my partners apparently don’t have any feelings resembling human compassion and I haven’t slept for the past week. But this is just an anomaly.  I remember being a summer associate!  That was so awesome!  It’s going to be that way again soon!  When is the firm taking me to Oceanaire again?”
2. Anger: “My boss is such a !#$!@!  All my fellow associates are soulless drones!  I hate this job!  I hate everyone!“
3. Bargaining:  “Ok, I’ll just work this job for a few months, just to get some money to pay back my loans.  Then I’ll go work for the Peace Corps in Zambia.  Or maybe if I ask them to cut my salary, they’ll work me few hours.”
4. Depression: “*sigh*  Yet another day.”
5. Acceptance: “I guess I can do this.  I’m sort of doing important work; I mean, Giant Corp. deserves a fair trial, too!  And besides, now I can afford fancy shoes.”

*Now, I understand that any complaint about one’s job is pretty obnoxious in this economy.  Fair enough.  At the same time, it’s also important to recognize a more subtle consequence of the bad economy: firms may feel they can mistreat associates and get away with it.  (After all, where are the associates going to go?)  In some ways then, it’s more important than ever to note firm mistreatment. 

-Michael

Looks like young lawyers aren’t the only youthful people losing faith in the market.

-Michael

Honestly, I’m not sure if I agree.  I simply don’t understand how further educating law students about the problems they might face as professionals will make those students feel better, particularly when law students tend to be a rather angsty and risk averse (some might say paranoid) bunch.  See, e.g., these worries about clerkships.  A full semester course about everything that can go wrong wouldn’t exactly calm my nerves.  Any law students care to comment? 

(via ABA)

-Michael