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Law in Contemporary Society
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The Source of My Fear (and Courage)-- By HoDongChyung - 19 May 2023The Usual Decisive QuestionThe general question I ask myself before making a big decision is: “does the benefit of an endeavor outweigh the pain of a loss?” This was the question I asked before deciding to go to law school, as I weighed my hope for a more fulfilling career as a lawyer against the loss of a budding career at Meta; the question I asked before attending college in the States and leaving behind my family and all things familiar in Brazil; the question I ask before eating oysters, a delicacy I have a history of food poisoning with. Answering this question isn’t really one of rational calculus, it’s a verdict that my instinct renders after it roughly weighs my optimism against my fear. And, at the end of every decision, one sentiment is greater than the other. Thus, to the extent that my decision-making involves the weighing of potential gains and losses, I identify with Kahneman’s and Tversky’s loss aversion theory. However, I don’t think their simple proposition on the asymmetry between the fear of losses and the anticipation of gains completely explains my decision-making process behind my career aspirations. Let me begin by elaborating on the anatomy of my fear.My Indifference Breeds FearThe sources of my fear are pretty conventional but, generally, they are (1) the prospect of failure and (2) my lack of confidence in certain areas. For example, I fear that starting my own law practice will not be a lasting venture and I am not confident that I have the experience nor competence to run one right out of law school. I find such driving forces of fear to be inevitable and natural for me so eradicating them isn’t feasible. Instead, I think my response has been to rely on my passions to outweigh my fears. In other words, fear’s grip over my decisions is only as strong as my indifference allows it to be. Take my cold call experience as an example. I understand how trivial the consequences of bombing a cold call are – recite the wrong answer and face the momentary judgment of a handful of your classmates. The stakes are miniscule but I find myself getting flustered when I struggle to retrieve the answer to my professors’ questions. However, if the cold call is regarding a topic I feel passionately about, it’s quite easy for me to dismiss the eyes of my colleagues and professor. My focus on the topic trumps my concern for other things. In sum, the greater the indifference I hold towards a subject, the greater sway my fear has over my decisions. So I concluded that being less indifferent and more passionate was my antidote to fear. Unfortunately, detachment, a prerequisite for indifference, has been my defense mechanism for difficult times. This detachment ironically comes from my attempts at empathy. When bad things happen, my knee-jerk reaction is to “see the other side of it.” I tell myself there are justified and fair reasons for why that bad thing happened and why it happening is not a big deal. This was how I coped with heartbreak, embarrassments, and a few traumatic events. As an example, I coped with my deportation from the States when my work visa was denied an extension with this detachment mechanism. Denials for visa extension applications had increased during the Trump administration and I was not fortunate enough to beat the odds. So, in December 2018, my life in the States appeared to end abruptly. My company informed me that I had no legal basis to remain in the U.S. and they did not know if I would be able to return. So I packed and stored my stuff, shared heartfelt good-byes, and left for Brazil, all within one week. I coped with this by telling myself I had no right to be angry because I was not a U.S. citizen and that my ability to reside in the U.S. was possible only with the government’s reserved right to terminate my visa. Without this limited visa, I would never have had the opportunity to build a life in the U.S. so I instead reminded myself to be grateful that I had remained in the States for as long as I did. And, lastly, I assured myself that I would make do somehow in Brazil. All these self-messages regarding my deportation enabled me to neutralize any negative sentiment for it. Though this coping mechanism does provide me a balanced view, keeping me from getting too hot or cold, I realized that it also engenders indifference. My reaction to the January 6 attack is one example. My friends called it a significant threat to democracy but I didn’t find it that threatening, especially compared to Operation Car Wash in Brazil where several Brazilian government officials accepted bribes in exchange for favors for several businesses.Finding CourageProfessor Moglen remarked that he “cannot teach us courage” but I think he’s sprinkled a trail of readings and life stories that invite us to feel strongly enough for something in the legal profession to overpower the fears that hold us back. For me, that something lies in my upbringing and work experience. My proximity to poverty and violence in Brazil has led me to staunchly attribute unequal access to opportunities, basic rights, and even common decency for the underprivileged as the root disease to said poverty and violence. During my career before law school, I have deeply enjoyed using technology to accomplish tasks with efficiency and to scale impact across large numbers of people. These two spheres of experiences fuel me to look to a career in legal tech, which I believe can democratize access to legal services by making it more affordable and accessible. I feel strongly enough about democratizing legal services that it overrides my fear of foregoing the financial security that big law offers my parents and my future family.
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